Teachers and Moms: what they need most

There is a huge difference between a teacher who doesn't have children and a teacher who does.
There is a difference between a teacher who has children and a teacher who has children who have struggled or still do (most parents have at least one) and are still raising them or they haven't been gone from home for too long.  There just is.  Personally, I prefer the latter, to the nth degree!

I have been a teacher without children.  I was a child who did not struggle in school academically.  Sure, I was a little socially awkward, but I had friends.  I could read social cues.  Sure, I had my disciplinary moments, but I never remember crying over homework until I was in at least middle school or high school, and even then, it was minor. 

I have a college degree in elementary education.  I feel that I got a really good education from a really reputable, good university.  I taught for three years, and by the end of the three years, I felt like I was finally starting to get a hang of it all.  I was in my element.   My abilities to teach the curriculum were improving, and my empathy for my students were growing.  It was hard to quit teaching because I felt myself improving and progressing so much, but I didn't realize that I was missing some very important qualities and skills -- the skills that are the difference in a good teacher and an excellent teacher.

Let me be honest and say that no matter how much you've worked with kids, if you are not a parent of one who has struggled, you're missing something in your teaching vision (unless you just have this skill, which I know of some who do).  You just are.  I speak from experience.  I did not know what I lacked until the past two years.

I call it "vision" because until you've lived with it and seen it every day, you don't see what parents see.  Try as you might, you don't have that empathy.  How do I know?  I didn't have it.  I wanted to have it.  I had sympathy and felt bad, but I still didn't get it.  I think back on specific children that I taught that I wish I'd had the vision then.  I wish I could feel what the parents were feeling.

J.R. has had some fabulous teachers and therapists, but I can tell you who obviously didn't get it and who did.  His current teacher GETS IT.  He is safe, secure and loved in her classroom.  I feel that he is safe, secure, and loved in her classroom.  She listens to me.  I don't have to plead my son's case very hard.  She's willing to try new things -- anything to help him succeed and feel successful.  I feel like we are a team, and this is what moms need most: teammates. Not a boss; not a know-it-all; not a professor, A TEAM.

I never feel like she is the teacher taking control, telling me what works best because she has the degree: because she is the teacher.  I KNOW I did that several times.  I never hear, "but LeMira . . ." unless it's "but he's doing so well, and I just think the world of him." 

For example, in recent weeks, I had been informed of a study* done a few years ago about the effectiveness of exercise balls replacing chairs in classrooms, especially for children with ADD, ADHD, and an ASD (autism spectrum disorder).  At the parent/teacher conference last week, I mentioned it to J.R.'s teacher, and asked how she felt about me bringing one in for him.  Not even hesitating she responded, "Absolutely.  Let's try it."  After one day of it, she wanted one for every student in her classroom.  J.R. takes the ball with him to math and to his special ed classroom.  Mrs. D. has the vision, and I love her for it.

Another teacher at my son's school who gets it is the librarian.  She and I hit it off when we discovered that her oldest son struggled with the same things that J.R. has been struggling.   Her son is twelve years older, but she has done so much.  When I vented to her about homework and trying to figure out something that works, she immediately volunteered her services.  For the last week, J.R. and I go to the library after school while she helps him with his homework.  He won't fight with her like he does with me (because I'm the mom), and he does better for her.  I help her daughter who is the same age as J.R. stay focused and answer her homework questions.  It's sort of a trade-off, although I think I'm getting a better deal (I think I need to make her some cookies or take her to lunch. . . hmm. . .).   This teacher has the vision.

I thank the Lord that He guided me to put my son in this charter school with teachers who get it.  One day, if I ever go back to be a classroom teacher, I know that my vision will be different.  I only hope that I will "get it," too.



*Here's a USA Today article written about one example:  No Chairs, Students get the "Wiggles Out" on Exercise Balls.   (If you want a copy of one of the research papers done on it, I can email it in PDF format to you, just let me know.)

Today's Fear

Today's the day.   Today my little guy sees the child psychologist for his multi-disciplinary assessment.  Basically, J.R. is being tested for anything and everything (ADD, ADHD, Autism, etc.).  I admit, I'm nervous, scared, anxious, and worried. What if the doctor doesn't see what I'm seeing?  What if I forget to tell him something?  What if the tests come back negative?

Okay, so I'm sure it's not going to be black or white/positive or negative, I mean, we're seeing a psychologist; but what if there aren't any "abnormalities" other than just the tentative diagnosis* (Cerebral Palsy) the neurologist gave us a month ago?  A million questions are running circles in my head, and you can imagine that for someone who gets motion sickness like me, that it's quite sickening.  Here are just a few that keep making laps around my brain:

If J.R.'s behaviors are normal, does that mean I'm just too impatient with him?
Is it just my fault?
Will he not get the help he needs in school?

Is there nothing I can do?

Sure, some of these sound selfish, but I don't mean them to be.  I'm really worried that what I'm doing as a parent is HURTING my child, enabling him to continue these poor behaviors.   Seriously, my biggest fear today is not that J.R. will throw a fit, get angry, or do nothing; my biggest fear is that the doctor will tell me that it was a waste of time and that there is nothing we can do to help my child. 
 

*It's a tentative diagnosis because it will only be definite if we decide to give J.R. an MRI to determine if there's brain damage.  We're still deciding what to do with that one.

Professionals' Opinions

I found some great videos (on an adoption support site of all places) from a conference that was held last year with a panel of professionals who speak on autism (and mention very little ADHD/ADD).  They were beneficial and educational to me as a parent. Maybe they will help you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-wbS5e9P81M
http://www.youtube.com/user/VistaDelMarCares#p/u/3/opxpnu8t3OQ
http://www.youtube.com/user/VistaDelMarCares#p/u/4/TuQqvSgznyA


My favorite quote:  "Once you've seen one child with autism, you've seen one child with autism."  ~ A parent of a child with autism

Grieving

Hi, all!  I'm LeMira, and Natalie asked me to contribute to this blog.  So, here is my first post, and you'll get to know more about me and my son as I write more.  

Last night I had a talk with a friend who teaches children with special needs at a school just for them.  When I learned this, I opened up about my concerns with my six year old son, Jackson.  You see, I am getting him tested for PDD-NOS in the next two months.  In our conversation last night, my friend Janet mentioned that it's okay to grieve over what you you thought you were going to have but aren't.  (Does that make sense?)  So many times we associate grief with death or a loss that we could touch, but grief goes deeper.    Grief is natural.  Grief is okay.  Grief is necessary.

Grief is natural.  Grief comes with any loss, even if it's the loss of that dream you had, that vision of having children with no special health care needs.  Most moms had a time in their lives when they were little girls and dreamed of being a mommy.  We held our dolls, sang to them, fed them, and changed their diapers.  We played "House" with our siblings and friends - taking turns being the parents and the kids.  When we were pregnant, we talked about the dreams we had for our kids.  We thought about that first day of school, and what their lives would be like. We had dreams and visions.  Those dreams and visions have had to change.  Perhaps they can still be, but we will get there via a different path than we had planned, and it hurts.  It's normal.  We grieve over the other path, the one less rocky (yeah, that one that you see cleeeeeeaaar over there).

Grief is okay.  Don't beat yourself up for missing that other path.  It doesn't mean that you don't love your kids.  It doesn't mean that you aren't grateful for the blessings in your life.  It doesn't mean that you would change it, but sometimes it just hurts.

Grief is necessary.  The only way to move ahead on this path is to grieve over the path you didn't get first.  Let it run its course - shock & denial, guilt&pain, anger & bargaining, depression/reflection/loneliness, the upward turn, reconstruction and working through, acceptance and hope (see this link for more information).  Where are you in your stage of grief right now?  Think about it.  When you first knew that something would be different with your child, how did you feel?

Did you deny it?  (I was in denial for much longer than I care to admit.)
Did you blame yourself (guilt/pain)?
Were you angry at the therapist or school teacher who informed you, or did you tell yourself that you could change it if you just did such and such (anger/bargaining)?
Did you fall into depression because you didn't know what to do; did you feel alone, like no one understands or that it's you alone bearing this burden?
Did you find resources to help you?
Are you learning to work through it all?
Have you accepted it?


There is no timeline in grief.  It is different for everyone, and it's possible to move through the stages at different rates, in a different order, and repetitively. I can tell you that I've gone through several stages multiple times.  For example, I've accepted some things, but I'm still depressed about others.   I personally believe that if you don't allow yourself to grieve, and you skip right to acceptance or  you get stuck in denial, you will eventually get stuck in depression, and you could possibly go wacko. Tell yourself that your feelings are normal and natural.  Then, you will move on when you are ready and start rebuilding your life for the way it can be, not the way you thought it was going to be.