Reality 101: CEC's blog for new teachers

Megan: A Final Goodbye

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”
 ~ From the movie Annie

It’s summer in Chicago! The weather’s warm and everyone’s outside. After months of cold and snow, Chicago comes alive in summertime.

Everyone always says that time flies, but this year it seems especially true. It feels like only weeks ago that I was applying to become a blogger for Reality 101. Just setting up my classroom, excited for the year to begin. Nervous as I started my master’s program. And here I am, a year later, and I feel like I’ve experienced so much in the past 12 months!

I’m very sad to say goodbye to this blog. I was so excited to become a part of something I felt was so worthwhile for new teachers. Thank you to everyone who read or commented on my blogs. Your thoughts have meant more than you know!

Melissa: Happy Summer!

Well, it’s that time of year again: School’s out for the summer! All of my teacher friends breathe a sigh of relief, and all of my non-teacher friends think I’m off to sip iced tea on the beach for the next three months. Ah, if only. . . .

The school year came to a great end. I think my boys are as ready as they can be for the move to ninth grade and a new school. I still need to finish moving all my gear to my new classroom. And since both of my wonderful paraeducators are themselves returning to school this fall, I will be looking for new help in my room. I will also be adding some more students to my caseload, including some girls (finally!).

This is a very busy summer for me. I am teaching summer school to elementary students with disabilities, but none of them have autism. It is a whole different world from what I am used to, but I am having a blast! I’m team-teaching with a truly awesome special educator and the time is really flying by. The time I spend teaching counts as hours toward my internship for the special education strategist master’s degree I will finish in December.

Brad: Songs of Summer

Shortly after the last day of school, I spent some time in the Midwest and managed to visit friends and family, get married, then drive north and relax for a few days — all before returning to Alaska to begin teaching summer school.

Teaching summer school is enjoyable because it’s an opportunity to work with a new set of co-workers while instructing students who are often at a very different educational level. Much of it is teaching the very important skills of basic communication, social interaction, and participation. So much of what we do in life depends on our skills in these areas and committing to improve any areas of weakness.

One tool I use to develop vital communication and participation skills is music. At its most basic level, music is a medium that allows us to choose the way we’d like to respond. Some of us hum along, some dance in their chairs, and others even sing (some in tune, some out of tune). Wherever there’s a crowd of people gathered, somebody inevitably chooses to communicate through song. Individual reactions vary, usually depending on who or where you are and what type of music you appreciate. At any rate, many of my students with severe intellectual disabilities connect to and respond well to music.

Each morning our students gather for circle time, where we review the day of the week, the weather, and the daily plan. I happen to play guitar and harmonica, so we also take a few minutes to sing songs and react to the music. I notice that when I talk and play guitar, most students are much more engaged and connected to the topic of conversation — and they’re also more likely to communicate with others when prompted.

Megan: End of the Year

So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend...
~ “Wicked”

The end of the year is approaching so quickly!

I cannot believe how the past 180 days have whizzed by (nor how, at other times, they have seemed so slow). My mind is consumed with all the successes of the year and how much more I wanted to get in. I have to say, I couldn't be any prouder of my team or my students.

This week, the final AIMSweb benchmarking report came out. My little guy with selective mutism who only knew two words and was "significantly below average” at the start of the year? His scores are now average! I have never been so proud of “average” in my entire life. During the benchmarking he made numerous vocalizations in the library, with many people around, and I almost started to cry.

Every new crop of students shows me something new about myself and helps me grow. So now I sit here thinking about whether I've made as big an impact on my students this year as they've made on me. Three of my students will move on next year, and I'd like to think they'll remember their time in my room fondly. Before I would have said “no way,” but now. . . .

The teacher across the hall from me is an ED/BD veteran—she's been teaching for almost as many years as I've been alive. Recently she shared a story that made me wonder how much my students really do remember about their teachers. A few weeks ago, this colleague of mine came home to a voicemail on her answering machine asking if she was so-and-so from such-and-such school in the ‘80s. The caller said she was a former student and left her number, saying she wanted to see what had happened to her former teacher.

Sheena: Our Passions as Our Professions

As the end of the school year quickly approaches, I realize that attending the CEC 2011 Convention & Expo was exactly what I needed at this stage in my career. Countless amazing, inspiring, and dedicated people were placed in my path, giving me the perspective I needed to move forward on my journey.

As I attended sessions and asked questions about the realities of co-teaching—my favorite subject, as you all know!—I was shocked to hear veteran special educators both acknowledge my professional concerns and encourage me to continue on the path. Their positive and supportive responses were just the consolation my young, passionate teacher’s heart needed.

Brad: Tips for Hosting a “Transition Night”

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has. ~ Margaret Mead

During my time at the CEC 2011 Convention & Expo, I was lucky to meet educators and researchers who are trying to find better ways to teach and serve exceptional children and their families. As I perused the many poster sessions, I was struck by the work of Lusa Lo of the University of Massachusetts, whose poster described a three-year parent community project between schools and immigrant families of children with disabilities. The demographic of our school here in Anchorage is one made up of immigrant, bilingual, and ethnically diverse families.

In my brief career, East High School has tried to improve its connection with students’ parents, families, and community. This year, a contingency of the special education department hosted two “Transition Nights” with the goal of connecting more students with disabilities to state and local services. Throughout the experience, I and my peers learned a few things about connecting with parents and hosting a “Transition Night” that I’d like to share with Reality 101 readers.

Megan: CEC in Action



Whoever ceases to be a student has never been a student. ~George Iles

It has been an interesting week back at school! My first day back after the CEC convention, it felt so odd to be driving to school. For a week, I had felt like a student myself, learning new ideas, interacting with higher-level academia, and digesting educational jargon. Now I was back to being the one imparting knowledge, not soaking it up.

I contemplated what my first day back to work would hold (as I do everyday) and came to a realization. As fabulous and enlightening as the past three days had been, everything I had learned was for one sole purpose: to educate the seven little faces that would be waiting for me that morning. I couldn’t wait to see them!

It is one thing to learn great ideas. That was far and away the best part of the CEC Convention & Expo, learning things I could actually use every day. But it is another thing to effectively implement those great ideas—a much more daunting task.

Melissa: FAQs

After talking to so many people at the CEC 2011 Convention & Expo, I thought I would compile a list of the most frequently asked questions about being a Reality 101 blogger and a new special educator.

I really enjoyed meeting and sharing the blog with everyone at the convention. I hope this is somewhat informative. :o)

What do you wish you would have learned in college that you didn’t?
When I finally had my first classroom, I felt like I knew enough about teaching to successfully get started. It’s the non-teaching stuff that I had never thought about before that caused the most issues. :o)

For example, I would have liked more instruction on working with general educators who did not have a positive attitude about being involved with special education. I think that was the hardest thing for me. I also would have liked to see IEPs from states other than one where I went to school. I started teaching in a neighboring state, and the IEP looked a lot different from the ones I completed in college.

The other stuff was more school-specific: I had no idea how to maneuver the lunch line. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do when I had bus duty. I didn’t know how to pick up line #2 on the phone.

How do you manage paraprofessionals who are older than you, or who think you should do things differently?
I’ve been very lucky in this area. I can point and grunt to my paraprofessional and he immediately knows what I want him to do, and most of the time he’s already on his way to doing it (Mr. C., if you’re reading this, you rock!).

If this isn’t the situation in your classroom, I would suggest writing a guide that states your classroom rules and expectations. Create an atmosphere where all the adults in the room are equal members of the team, with final decisions ultimately up to you, the lead teacher. I know that sounds like a contradiction, but while you (and your students) respect your paraprofessionals, the buck needs to stop somewhere, and that needs to be with the classroom teacher.

Sheena: Add CEC’s 2012 Convention to Your Calendar Now!

I am in awe and I don’t want to leave! The CEC 2011 Convention & Expo has truly been one of the best professional development opportunities that I have experienced in my two years as a special education teacher. Aside from the beautiful setting of National Harbor, Md., the sessions, presentations, speakers, and networking opportunities leave me feeling even more passionate about the career path that I have chosen.

Yesterday was a series of inspiring coincidences that ranged from meeting visionaries in the field who seemed to fall into my path and attending informative sessions with presenters whose words touched my heart, validated my new teacher experiences, and motivated me to continue to on my path by viewing each experience as an opportunity for growth.

My morning began with a session about new programs from California to support English language learners (ELLs) based on the Sheltered Instruction Observation Protocol (SIOP). I met countless teachers and graduate students in this field and learned about developing masters degree programs for ELL teachers in special education.

Megan: My Turn! Greetings from CEC!

“Oh, the places you will go…” ~ Dr. Seuss

Greetings from the CEC 2011 Convention & Expo!

A few years back, I had a professor who went to a CEC convention in Hawaii. She made it sound so fun and suggested we all go to the national convention the following year. When, I wondered, would I really attend a national convention? At the time, just completing papers and making it to student teaching seemed far more important than going to conferences in faraway places.

And now? I am like a teacher at special education Disney World! I have had so much fun learning new things and realizing that the special education world is so much bigger than it sometimes seems in my little classroom. Literally everywhere I turn, I am seeing something new. I am catching up with old friends, but even more importantly, making new ones. Meeting other educators alone is worth the experience of being here, but I have gotten some amazing tips about things to use every day in my classroom!

Melissa: Blast from the Past

Hello all!

I am totally blown away by the CEC Annual Convention! I am having an absolute blast!

First of all, it was amazing to meet my fellow bloggers Tuesday morning. I was worried I wouldn’t recognize them, but I knew each of them immediately. They are amazing people with a passion for special education, and I am so happy to have met them in person. It was so fun to be a part of the Student Forum and share our teaching experiences with soon-to-be teachers. It was an experience I will never forget.

The educational sessions are wonderful! I have walked out of them with pages of notes of applicable things I can try in my classroom as soon as I get back home. I am looking forward to walking through the Expo Hall tomorrow. Everyone has said it is so fun to go to, and they all have fun toys and samples -- I can’t wait!

Brad: Greetings from the CEC 2011 Convention & Expo!

When I joined the Council for Exceptional Children, I did so because I believed that the organization was consistent with my personal mission as a special educator. Like any member, I’ve read CEC literature by mail, clicked on articles within the CEC SmartBrief, and paged through the scholarly research articles presented within the journals. All those facets contribute to what I know CEC to be – but none of it has compared to the experience of attending the annual convention (this year, in National Harbor, Md.).

Throughout the first full day of the convention, I’ve had the opportunity to meet and interact with teachers, administrators, professionals, and scholars. I’ve participated in break-out groups that have included pre-service teachers, university-level emeritus-scholars, and every professional level in between. I’ve listened to the perspective of professionals in the field who have been publishing since before I was born. I’ve also shared some experiences of my own with students who have yet to teach in the classroom.

Brad: Flying Alaska with Students, and an Anthony Update

Last week, I had the opportunity to travel to Bethel, Alaska, with two other teachers and 11 students. This was our first experience traveling anywhere off Alaska’s road system and for a few of the students, it was their first time on an airplane. We were invited to Bethel by the local high school’s Partners Club, who hosted a Unified Track and Basketball Tournament.

Overall, it was an amazing experience. We practiced preparing and packing for the trip, checking-in at the airport, and navigating security. One of my life-skills students had his first experience with the TSA, which included a professional swab of his nervous and sweaty palm.

I realize not every class gets to leave the classroom often — much less fly somewhere 400 miles away — so I’d like to share how we found the support and fundraised the money to do it. In two words: espresso and community.

Melissa: Uncommon

As many of you know, my students and I have been on the same path together for two years. Now there is a possibility that my lane will end, while theirs continues on.

When I was offered my current job, I was given the choice of two positions. One was a permanent, mainly co-teaching position. The other one, the one they really wanted me to take, was the self-contained autism spectrum disorders teacher, a new position that was only guaranteed for two years because it was funded by economic stimulus dollars.

Being the crazy idealist that I am, I took the ASD teaching position because I truly felt (and continue to feel) that was what God wanted for me. Do I ever regret not taking the other position? Nope. Not even a little bit. I have had such a blast these past two school years, I wouldn’t trade it for the added security.

Also—not that I am even close to being the world’s best teacher—I think I am who my students needed. Our personalities just mesh. We like each other. Rarely a day goes by that I don’t have at least one episode of laugh-until-I-cry over something hilarious one of my students says, or an oh-my-gosh-they-are-SO-smart moment when I am just blown away by their deeply intelligent thoughts and questions. We’re just a match made in heaven.

But now there’s a chance we’ll have to break up. It makes me sad not just for myself, but for my students. I really do love these guys. Who’s going to take care of them next year if there’s no one in my position? Who will advocate for them to get what they need? Who will make sure their accommodations are being carried out and working for them in the general ed classrooms? Who will be their soft place to land when they need it, and who will push them out of the nest when that’s what they need? I want it to be me, darn it!

People ask me every day if I’ve heard whether I have a job next year. I’ve decided to stop worrying about it. Do I check the job listings in neighboring districts? Yes, and it makes me sad. I feel I am where I belong. I don’t want to start over somewhere else.

Megan: Let The Job Searches Begin…

“Real success is finding your lifework in the work that you love.” ~ David McCullough

It’s finally spring! A time when thoughts turn to sunshine, flowers, Cubs games, and . . . job searches?

I am a very blessed girl with an amazing job that I know I will have for at least the next school year. However, talking to friends and co-workers as the year winds down brings back memories of sleepless nights, tedious hours filling out job applications, and the stress of wondering where, and if, I’d have a job in the fall. I remember it all too well.

When I tell people how I found my first job, they look at me like I’m nuts. All throughout my undergraduate program, I’d been very vocal about my desire to work with children with emotional disorders. It was my passion and I connected any project I could to students with ED/BD. I was also fortunate to have incredible professors and advisors who listened to me and supported my endeavors. As my December graduation date approached, I assumed I may have to sub for the remainder of the school year, or perhaps continue my job as an educational sign language interpreter.

Then an alumna from my college e-mailed my advisor; she was now an assistant principal of an alternative school and they were looking for a mid-year teacher, as they were opening a brand-new classroom. Did my advisor know anyone who may be interested? My professor thought this position was exactly what I was looking for. I called the assistant principal, interviewed, and was hired within a week.

So if I have one piece of advice for new teachers, it would be to make sure you communicate what you’re looking for! You never know who is listening and who may end up connecting you with your dream job.

Sheena: Expectations vs. Realities

Where in the world have I been these last few weeks? I’ve been trying to survive in a bureaucratic world that doesn’t make sense for idealistic thinkers like me.

Although I have not yet received a letter or pink slip from my school, I anticipate that I will not be offered a renewed contract or tenure at the end of the year. This year has been an incredible mountain of obstacles as I’ve attempted to advocate for my special education students by taking a collaborative, engaged role during lesson planning meetings. The word “passion” has often been used to describe my actions, goals, and value system, but the same word is sometimes equated with “aggression” whenever I attempt to interject an opinion. I have been entrusted to help develop lifelong skills and successes for my students with learning challenges, and yet I feel I am often not given an equal opportunity to share my ideas for effective teaching strategies.

Tenured teachers with no incentive to change have been boulders and windstorms along my path, and I honestly have very few resources in which to seek shelter, other than my faith, my family, my friends, and even this blog, which has served as a great outlet.

Reading through past journal entries often helps me remember past journeys on which I once felt that I would be lost forever, but eventually found a way to make it through. In one entry, I read the words of a woman I interviewed with who worked for UNICEF in Niger at the time. I inquired about any advice she had to pass along, and I remember being stunned by her yogic wisdom. She said that our expectations in life almost never meet the reality of our experiences; thus, the only way to be successful, to feel fulfilled, is to constantly meditate on our intentions.

Brad: Confidentiality at the Expense of Connection?



Recently, I had an opportunity to share some of my school’s inclusive practices with a special educator from another district. I told him about using general education peer-tutors, inviting general education classes into self-contained classrooms for shared lessons, and helping typical and non-typical students change the school climate with respect to students with disabilities.

While my colleague was personally connected to the mission of inclusion, he was unsure that some of these practices could actually occur at his school, due to parental and administrative concerns over confidentiality. He cited a few incidences of parents who were quite protective of their child’s right to privacy within an education setting. I couldn’t help but wonder why I had never encountered this “right to privacy” issue at the school where I teach.

To be sure, the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act includes a number of definitions and legal requirements, especially with respect to evaluations, personally identifiable information, and access to records. But I’ve never interpreted these rights as contrary to the mission of inclusive practices within schools.

Melissa: Growing Pains

Normally it doesn’t bother me when my students ask a question to which I do not know the answer. It’s not unusual to hear me say, “I don’t know. Let’s look it up!” It’s an instant teachable moment; just add Google.

But last week a student asked me a question that neither I nor Google could answer. The question: Why is there going to be another vote for new schools in our district?

The school where I teach is packed to the gills. In fact, just about every school in my district is full or over capacity. This is not too surprising, considering that the city’s population has grown 73% over the past decade. In order to build more schools, voters need to pass a referendum that will increase property taxes. The city has voted against the referendum twice already, and chance number three is coming up for a vote in May. As both a teacher and a parent, I am praying it passes.

As a teacher, I find this very frustrating. Education is a NEED; it’s not some fancy indulgence. When the city needs a new road or additional police officers or fire fighters, there is no public vote — it just happens. But when schools need additional resources, everyone has to agree.

As a parent, I am concerned that my son might be in a very large class when he starts kindergarten. Will he need to be bussed to a far-away school, where there’s room? Will the district need to redraw school boundaries to finagle kids around?

Some people argue that the school board is asking for too much, that the schools are going overboard. I can assure you, I don’t have a jewel-encrusted throne at my desk, and there is no concierge that delivers lobster tails to the staff for lunch. In fact, teachers at my school struggle to get computer access for their classes, students have been bussed to other buildings for gym class because there simply isn’t enough space, and one hallway is actually used to hold classes. That’s right, we ran out of actual classrooms.

Megan: How Do You Measure a Good Teacher?

“A good teacher is like a candle — it consumes itself to light the way for others.” ~ Author Unknown

How do you measure a good teacher? Recently I have felt like I can’t turn on my TV, listen to the radio, or pick up a newspaper without seeing a story about the state of education today. It’s hard not to take it personally when commentators always seem to have an opinion on what teachers need to do to “change.”

In the past few weeks, I have stayed late at work on many occasions, particularly on Fridays (as I know countless other teachers do). I enjoy the quiet of the building as I listen to music in my room. I relish the chance to make copies without standing in line and the ability to run to and from the printers (yes, I run in the halls).

Last Friday, there were four teachers in the building after dark. It was like a little after-school club. I started talking to one of my school’s new teachers, and I was blown away by all the fabulous ideas she had. She was so creative!

So I began to wonder . . . She and I are very different teachers, yet I’d like to think we are both good at what we do. There is no cookie-cutter version of the “perfect” teacher — so what is it that makes certain teachers great? What qualities does the “perfect” teacher possess?

Brad: Plugging into Advocacy

Like most teachers, I usually try to spend school breaks “unplugging” from the world of structured academics. But during my most recent break, I am proud to say I was firmly “plugged in” to the Alaska Special Olympics Winter Games. I had a lot of fun while meeting some amazing people.

Special Olympics held a Youth Summit concurrent with the Winter Games in Anchorage. The Youth Summit was hosted by my school, East High School, and involved seven other schools. The goal of the Youth Summit was to foster leadership skills in high schoolers, as well as to share ideas about how Alaskan schools can start Partners Clubs and implement Alaska Special Olympics School Programs in their communities. Partners Clubs provide athletic, social, and recreational opportunities to students with disabilities (Athletes) paired with students without disabilities (Partners).

Teachers, Partners, and Athletes participated in team-building exercises, shared organizational ideas, brainstormed activities to increase inclusion in their schools, and attended Winter Games events like floor hockey, snowshoeing, and skiing. The students shared their perspectives on what the school and community climate is like for individuals with disabilities. It’s impressive to see students who are really dedicated to supporting people with disabilities—not just because it’s right, but because they recognize and appreciate what they’re learning in the process.

A key goal of Partners Club at East High School is to include students with disabilities into the school community to the greatest degree possible. It was interesting to learn about the location of special education classrooms and program protocol with respect to visits from general education students.

Reality 101 Bloggers to Appear at CEC Convention

Want to know what it’s REALLY like to be new to the classroom? Come see the Reality 101 bloggers in person at the CEC 2011 Convention & Expo as they share their experiences with the student community.

The Student Forum
Tuesday, April 26
1-4 p.m.
Gaylord National Hotel and Convention Center
Woodrow Wilson Room D

The CEC 2011 Convention & Expo is the largest professional development event dedicated to special and gifted education. To learn more and register, visit www.cec.sped.org/convention. See you there!

Melissa: 16 Things on a Stick

I am taking a class through my school district called “16 Things on a Stick.” It’s so much fun! By the end of it, we’ll learn about 16 new things using four computer applications. We’ve had two classes so far, and I’m sad there’s only two more left! I’m having a blast implementing the “things” in my classroom, and thought you guys might be interested, too.

(The title of the class, by the way, is a reference to how things “on a stick” at the fair are cool. Yeah, I don’t quite get it either.)

Diigo  (www.diigo.com)

This Web site lets you bookmark other sites and label them with tags. I’ve used it in a few different ways. My class was doing a unit on our home state, North Dakota, so I tagged some sites that would be useful for facts and research. My students could go to my Diigo account (just by knowing my user name, no registration required), click on the “North Dakota” tag, and then select the Web site of their choice within that category.

This had some major advantages: I knew they were on appropriate Web sites that contained the information they were looking for, and they didn’t get frustrated searching all over the Web for specific information. Also, they could just click on a link instead of having to type in a super-long URL.

Brad: “I Am Going to Drive You All Crazy”



It happens every year. Right about this time, I begin to hear about the new ninth graders our school will have next fall. Exasperated sighs are quickly followed by rumors and innuendo like “they’ll be adding 15 students to each of our caseloads” and “this one student drove two of the middle-school teachers into early retirement.”

No doubt, even in my short tenure teaching, I’ve seen some hardscrabble ninth graders, many with shaky academics and poor social skills. While I’ve nearly lost my faith a few times, I’m happy to say that I’ve always been willing to search for a seed of optimism.

For example: Last Wednesday, I lost it after a ninth-grade student in my classroom spent 90 minutes waving his hand in the air and making coughing noises to disrupt the class. I told him to go to the hallway, mostly just to give myself a moment to think of what to do next. Within 30 seconds, he rapped at the door, laughing and pointing his finger in the shape of a gun through the window. I fell back on the familiar, the only response I’d been able to quietly model and then teach others. I ignored him.

But as Anthony kicked the door with his sneakers, I admitted to myself that my method wasn’t working — what he was asking for was more attention, not less.

Megan: My Special Education Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who dreamed of being a teacher. . . .

This week I covered a unit on fairy tales. As my students brainstormed all the fairy tales they had ever read, I realized that sometimes my role is to be my classroom’s fairy godmother: perky, cheerful, bestowing little nuggets of knowledge into my students’ receptive (if not always eager) minds.

My room feels even more like a living fairy tale when one of my little friends refuses to answer a question unless we add “Princess” to her name — and I can’t even make up the fact that sometimes she wears a tiara to school (I might, too, if I could get away with it). And I conjure Cinderella as I frantically try to fit little gym shoes on little impatient feet before PE; one boy thought it was hilarious that I called him “Cinderfella.”

Some days I am so beloved that one student actually exclaimed, “Miss M, I love you more than chocolate cake!” That’s a serious compliment from a second grader. And other days . . . well, apparently I am meaner and nastier than any evil stepmother, warts and all.

My class has been settling into new routines, with new successes every day. I love the magic of the moment when a student does something new that I’ve taught them. I was so proud when my littlest guy, who only got one word right on that first spelling test in August, got all ten grade-level spelling words right on last week’s test. He was so proud to see this represented on his self-monitoring graph. When another student who typically cries before any daunting task said, “I love reading tests! I know I can do this!” I wanted to cry, too. If my student with selective mutism would only talk to me, I’d call it a day.

Sheena: Past and Present

My restless nights as a Peace Corps volunteer in Niger, West Africa, were spent with a pair of portable speakers and Nina Simone’s wisdom. Her songs became my ray of hope and comfort as I lay under the moon and a mosquito net, covered by the blanket of the night.

I joined the Peace Corps in 2006 because I needed a change from my comfortable, mundane life as an office assistant in the United States. As a young, Black college graduate, I knew I did not want to get stuck in a meaningless existence. I wanted to contribute to society in ways that really mattered.

Lurking in my subconscious was this lovely, precious dream that Nina Simone so desperately wanted the world to believe in. This was the American Dream that I, in my youthfulness, was fearless enough to pursue. I made the bold decision to travel, learn new languages, and gain experience in international development. It was exhilarating to announce that I would give up air conditioning and clean drinking water for two years to make my humble contribution to the world.

With Simone’s commanding, lyrical voice at my side, I “opened my heart.” However, on my journey through the harmattan sandstorms of West Africa, I would be forced to ponder how this dream differs for individuals depending on their cultural and personal needs.

Melissa: I Care, Part 2

Wow! I thought I would write a follow-up to all of the comments on my last post. Thank you all so much for taking the time to share your thoughts. Because of confidentiality issues, I can’t tell “the whole story,” but I will try to touch on as much as I can.  :o)

I do have a very positive relationship with this student. He has told me I am the best teacher he has ever had and that he loves talking to me. He tells me more things than I care to know (you know, middle-school boy stuff like socks and girlfriends and bloody video games). We’ve had lots of talks about how smart I KNOW he is.

My students and I have taken learning-style inventories, most recently about two weeks ago. I have a wide range of learning styles in my room and try to incorporate them as much as possible. This particular student scores high in the areas of visual and kinesthetic learning.

Students have lots of choices when it comes to showing me what they know. For example, right now in language arts we are doing a lesson I call “Choose Your Own Literary Adventure.” Each student read the book of his choice and then selected a related project from a menu of options. They could write a letter to a character, develop a test on the book, write an imaginary interview with a character, make posters to advertise the book or the genre, design new book covers, or write fortune cookie fortunes to characters based on what happened to them. So there’s lots of cool stuff going on with this project.

Brad: Teaching Youth with Emotional Disabilities: The Long and Winding Road



The Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) defines emotional disturbance as follows:

 “...a condition exhibiting one or more of the following characteristics over a long period of time and to a marked degree that adversely affects a child’s educational performance:

 (A) An inability to learn that cannot be explained by intellectual, sensory, or health factors.

 (B) An inability to build or maintain satisfactory interpersonal relationships with peers and teachers.

 (C) Inappropriate types of behavior or feelings under normal circumstances.
 
 (D) A general pervasive mood of unhappiness or depression.

 (E) A tendency to develop physical symptoms or fears associated with personal or school problems.”

I can remember a time not too long ago when I didn’t have a clue about what I would need to know in the future. I wasn’t worried about it. The future would come. And it did, along with many tough lessons about how not to handle certain situations.

When we’re young, most of us are capable of learning lessons through direct experience, even if we aren’t paying attention when our parents, teacher, school counselor, and Aunt Lydia try to tell us that it isn’t a good idea to play by the river in winter (just as an example).

Melissa: I Care

Lately I’ve been struggling with something in my classroom. I’d like to think there’s a magical answer out there that will somehow make its way into my brain, but in reality I’m not sure there is a black-and-white solution to this problem.

My question: How do you make a student care? You know, that genuine, intrinsic desire to do well — just to do well, not get something extra out of it? Is it even possible to make someone else care?

Most of my students do what is assigned, turn it in on time, and make corrections when asked. They care about doing a good job and getting a good grade. If they need more time than what was given for a particular assignment, no problem, as long as they have been working on it.

My students have a great range of writing speeds. One could write a novel over a weekend (in fact, he has), while others struggle to turn thoughts into words. You need an extra day or two? I’m cool with that. I care more that they are truly learning and can demonstrate that somehow (I’m pretty flexible with the “how”). But you gotta give me . . . something.

I’ve been a bit more experimental in my approach this year, trying to discover ways to motivate certain students. But at what point do I switch from accommodating needs to enabling apathy?

Megan: Blizzard

“Gray skies are gonna clear up, put on a happy face!” ~ Bye Bye Birdie

Brrr! Here in the lovely land of Chi-town, a blizzard has hit. It is the third-worst snow in Chicago history. The mounds of snow are piled chest high, and the temperature is 30 below with the wind chill. The only redemption is the shining sun and clear, blue skies!

As I navigated through snow piles as tall as my car, I reflected upon my current situation. There is a blizzard in my classroom -- a blustery storm of activity and adjustment. The white piles of paper rival the snow drifts outside. The remnant scraps on the floor from cutting out hundreds of Boardmaker pictures and file folder games look like the snowflakes blowing across the icy parking lot. And the mood of my classroom? Not nearly as sunny as the bright, but frigid, day outside.

My classroom has evolved once more (but then again, if things stayed the same, where would the fun be?). It seems as if every two months there is a major shift in my roster. We had only just gotten settled in when I received two new students within three days in October. The holidays passed with hustle and bustle, and now two more new students have started within a week of each other. So my classroom is in a state of flux again.

Brad: Mai’s Story: Education’s Enduring Support

Over time, I’ve found that when I’m called to a conversation in a quiet and empty hallway, it’s usually a situation I’m capable of handling. But last fall, I encountered one that I was sure I couldn’t handle.

Mai, a 17-year-old student in our life skills program, stood with her back to the blue ceramic tile wall. She stared at a point on the floor just beyond her tiny sandaled feet. Ms. Lynn, our classroom’s teacher assistant, put her hand on Mai’s shoulder: “Mai, go on and tell Mr. B what you told me.”

Lakes of tears welled in Mai’s eyes and as she turned her head toward the long emptiness of the hallway she said, “I think I’m pregnant and I’m scared.”

Once the words registered, I looked to Ms. Lynn. She drew a long breath and let it out with a sigh. Mai put her head back down and sniffled. Without really knowing it, in the moment I began to speak, I placed my faith in what our school would do to help and abandoned words like could or should. Could and should are words for political, philosophical, and hypothetical situations, not real ones like Mai’s.

Within the next few days, Mai’s pregnancy was confirmed and we learned that the father was her boyfriend, another student in our life skills classroom. We met with Mai’s family and her boyfriend’s family. We helped Mai set up the necessary pre-natal care appointments and helped arrange transportation supervision and training so she could attend them. A short time later, when Mai lost the support of her family, we helped arrange foster placement and began to teach Mai the basics of caring for herself and preparing for a baby. I also learned that our district has a school that offers a curriculum and community support for pregnant teens, so we began to think of ways we could tailor that program for a student who receives special education services, like Mai.

Melissa: Changes

I’ve always hated the expression “the more things change, the more they stay the same,” but that currently sums up my life at school.

When I show up Monday morning, things will be drastically different than they were just last week. One of my students moved over the weekend, so my group of six is now down to five. Losing a student in any class makes a difference, but when one student makes up about 17% of your class, it’s a pretty significant change. And because this was a particularly challenging student, the changes will be, um, pretty darn big.

Because I now have fewer students, I am also losing a paraprofessional during the morning. Administratively, I completely understand the move. Professionally, I know my class will be just fine with one para instead of two. But personally, it kinda stinks. When you work with someone every day for three semesters, especially when he is a very good someone, it’s hard to think about him not being there anymore. I am very glad he gets to stay with us for the part of the afternoon when my students split into two groups and go to two separate general ed classes during my planning time.

Melissa: Happy New Year! Anyone Know What a “Noob” Is?

Like my fellow blogger Megan wrote in her last post, one of the best things about being a teacher is that we get two New Year’s celebrations. We have our Happy Back-to-School New Year in the fall, as well as the “regular” Happy New Year celebration in January.

New beginnings are fun; each one is a fresh chance to try something different, take a chance, and just celebrate life. This year, as usual, I find myself making a shiny new list of resolutions. I have made the following resolutions to round out the remainder of the 2010-11 school year:

Brad: Getting Students to Go Beyond the Classroom

“The journey itself is delight.”— Rousseau

Last week Partners Club (a group I co-sponsor that connects students with and without disabilities through athletics and social activities) resumed its weekly ski outings. Although it had been uncharacteristically warm throughout the last week or so, there was still plenty of snow on the mountain.

As the kids climbed the hill in sets of twos and threes, I was genuinely moved by how our club really does impact every student beyond the classroom. In every sport, but especially in skiing, there’s a level of trust and care required to get students not only up the hill in cold weather, but also down again in a way that respects their level of athletic, psychological, and spiritual comfort. However, long before a student with a disability buckles into ski boots, he or she must hop over the first hurdle to getting involved with the club: getting out of the house.

Each Monday morning, my class discusses what they did that weekend, and the only response more common than watching television, playing video games, or sleeping is the ever-ubiquitous “nothing.” I often find that for some students this response is the ticket out of talking. But for a few of them, I realize that “nothing” is really an accurate summation of their weekend. And for a teacher who values student skills like connectedness, independence, and engagement, that realization is tough to make.

Megan: New Year, New Beginnings

“Here’s to a new year and another chance to get it right.” ~ Oprah Winfrey

As a teacher, I feel like I get two New Year’s. Of course, every August full of anticipation and excitement. But the calendar also gives me a second chance in January, when my engine is usually not running at full steam. I welcome the opportunity to reflect and make a fresh start half-way through the school year.

I’m not a fan of New Year’s resolutions. Rather than make a list of things I probably won’t follow through on past January 15 (like maintaining my gym membership or giving up “Jersey Shore”), I instead make a list of goals for myself. I don’t set start or end dates; I just hope to complete them by Dec. 31.

First up in 2011, I plan to heed some advice from my grandma. She once told me that you can spot a good mother when every one of her children thinks he or she is the favorite.

I am not a mother, but I think the same rule can be applied to teaching. So my goal this year is for all my students to think that they are my favorite. I’ll admit there are days I am at my wit’s end, but my job is to make sure they never sense that frustration. I’d like to never again hear them say, “No one loves me.” I want my students to feel loved and secure in my room, like they are indispensable to our classroom family.

Sheena: One Stroke at a Time

Happy new year! Students and teachers alike returned to school this week feeling relaxed and refreshed.

In one of my classes, we asked students to write about a new goal for their language arts course. The seventh graders’ resolutions included: Change my attitude. Do my homework. Finish my classwork. Pay attention. It was an uplifting way to start the week, having our kids share their commitments to change.

Speaking of which, I kept my resolution to join a swim team. I made it to the first practice of Masters Club this week and was so nervous about being out of shape compared to other swimmers. My mind was plagued with images of gripping the wall in fatigue after each drill and being passed repeatedly by swim-mates sharing my lane. But as it turned out, the coach was a gentle, jovial soul who paired me with another swimmer who, like myself, was returning to swimming after a seven-year hiatus. We immediately bonded and shared some time in the hot tub after our 90-minute practice.

Each lap was just a lap. The coach advised us to take it easy and work on our form. He told me I needed to bend my arm with each stroke in freestyle, and I tried to focus on that skill with each lap. Being a teacher, I immediately compared my physical actions—focusing on each movement to complete a full stroke—to student learning. Teachers, like coaches, support students by providing them with skills that they can practice until it become part of their metacognitive process. My getting back into shape is similar to a student’s becoming proficient in a standard. Each stroke is supported by a skill that must be actively developed, practiced, and eventually owned.

Brad: Finding Anchorage

Well, I’ve made it through another winter solstice here in Alaska. This means that we’ll finally be seeing an increase in light and eventually warmth over the next six months. During the last two months, the first periods of the school day typically passed in darkness. The sun didn’t begin to rise until between 9 and 10 a.m. And the last month or so, the sun regularly set around 4:30 p.m.

Not unexpectedly, many of us have a difficult time remaining alert and focused through such prolonged periods of morning darkness. I think I can speak for most Alaskans when I say that I’m truly looking forward to the growing light of the New Year.

Although I teach in urban Alaska, I’m still continually amazed by the beauty that I witness here -- and even the ways I sometimes take it for granted. For example, the first snow on the Chugach Mountain range is always momentous, both in its stark signaling of the end of summer and its pristine contrast to the mountain’s rugged face.

Megan: More than Just a Job

“Follow your bliss.” ~ Joseph Campbell
 
Maybe it’s just my perception, but lately when I’ve met new graduates or people thinking about going into education, more and more of them are considering special ed. I’m always excited to meet other potential special educators. But oftentimes, their answer as to why they chose this particular field troubles me: “It’s where the jobs are.”

I am so enthusiastic to get more people involved in special education. I’d recruit any good teacher I could by talking about all the perks: lots of hugs, moments where a student reads for the first time—I could go on and on.

But as many of us know, special education is not for the faint of heart. While I whole-heartedly feel I am in the best profession, it is not a job that one should go into simply because there is a shortage of positions in other areas of education. I often hear people say they are going to use their special education degree to get their foot in the door, then switch over when something else opens in their district. This boggles my mind. I don’t find special education to be a stepping stone; it’s a path unto itself.

Melissa: ’Twas the Week Before Christmas

’Twas the week before Christmas
and all through my brain
was a message on repeat:
“I think I’m going insane.”

The presents are wrapped,
my finals are done.
So what stands between now
and eleven days full of fun?

Ah, just three days of school
till our break will arrive;
not even a week...
but will I survive?

My lessons were planned
with the utmost of care
in hopes that my students’
attention I’d snare.

Brad: Leap of Faith

 A few years ago, I sat in a wooden chair and fielded job interview questions from an administrator of a rural Midwestern school district.

“How do you teach a child to read?” he asked. I recall telling him I’d start by finding out the child’s interest and by developing a rapport with him or her.

“How do you know a student’s made progress?” he said. “After all, sometimes it can be pretty hard to tell.” I wasn’t sure how to answer this, so I fell back to what I’d read about grade-level assessments, parent input, and comparing the pace of progress to that of a student’s peers. I rambled, then stammered. By the time I’d stopped speaking, I felt as though I was figuratively, in addition to literally, in the principal’s office . . . in trouble.

The administrator took a long moment to reflect on my answer. Finally, he said, “I taught special education for 15 years and I found that there were times I didn’t know, or couldn’t find out. But that didn’t keep me from trying.”

Throughout the last week, I’ve been inundated by paperwork, parent phone calls, and delivery-of-service questions with respect to my caseload of students and their schedules for next year. These are the times when I wonder how it’s possible to teach a student the breadth and depth of curriculum I’ve imagined for them—the one I truly believe they deserve.

Melissa: Another Holiday Project in the Bag

I’m excited to write this follow-up to my last blog post about the Mouse Project. (Glad you all enjoyed reading about it!)

My students did a great job on our second annual fundraiser project. We “adopted” a local family of three boys whose parents both have cancer. We decided to shake it up and make snowflake ornaments instead of the mice ornaments we made last year. And, silly me, I only got two bottles of tacky glue again, so my students had to share.

One of them asked if we could serve cookies to our “shoppers” this year. I thought that was an awesome idea, and a great way to sneak in some more social skills and life skills lessons. So we bundled up and headed off to the grocery store; each student had to find two or three items, and then go through the check-out themselves.

We returned to school, where the students had to quarter the original recipe (sneaky math!) and each mix up his own batch of dough, which he later rolled out and cut into cookies. I also discovered one of my students is a frosting-making whiz; he whipped up several shades of green frosting in about two minutes. I was very impressed—I even used his method when making cookies at home!

Megan: My Holiday Wish List

“And Mom and Dad can hardly wait for school to start again . . .”
~ “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas”

Dear Santa,

I know I am a grown woman, but I still believe in the magic of the holidays. I have my students write letters to you, while reminding them that you are always watching.

You know, back when I was a paraprofessional, the teacher I worked with said to me, “The day before winter break is the best day of the year.” And I wondered, “Isn’t the last day of school the best day of the year?”

She explained that in the world of students with emotional and behavioral disorders, the end of the year can actually be a rough time. Summer, and the accompanying long days without consistent structure, can be scary for them. Grades are due, IEPs need to be updated, rooms should be packed up, nerves are frazzled.

The day before winter break, however, is a day when everyone is in festive mood. There is a palpable excitement in the air. As a teacher, I can now agree that the day before break may just be the best day of the school year.

Sheena: Life is Reasonable Again

Hi everyone! I know it has been a while since I last posted. Thanksgiving was a much-needed time to relax, rejuvenate, and regain focus. It was just what the doctor ordered.

Since my last blog entry, I’ve survived a hectic month of deadlines, IEP meetings, and paperwork – not to mention completing another graduate school class. With just 10 more work days before our winter break, life finally feels reasonable again! I believe everyone looks forward to breaks this time of year. For me, it’s relief from mid-year worries about raising test scores and squeezing in all the standards before benchmarks.

Yesterday my seventh-grade team had a Taco Day, and each teacher contributed a dish to our 20-minute lunch feast. In between bites of spicy salsa and chips, I felt a certain level of solidarity. We were all exhausted. Not only was it Wednesday, the dreaded middle of the week, but it was the middle of our school year. We sat and ate and laughed and bonded over food in the teachers’ lounge. It was perfect timing for a get-together, but it also symbolized our need to support each other. We sat together—with different backgrounds, different personalities, and different interests—and shared our own “Thanksgiving” meal.

Reality 101 Tops List of Elementary Education Blogs

Reality 101 has been named one of the top 50 blogs written by elementary educators, this time by mastersinelementaryeducation.org (see the last section on teaching children with special needs).

Congrats to the Reality 101 bloggers!

Brad: Alternate Assessments, Alternate Ideas

Shortly behind its roll-out of the newly purchased Web-based curriculum comes our district’s revised training on alternate assessment protocol.

Chances are, if you’re living in a state other than Alaska, the alternate assessment you’ll deliver to your students this year looks different from the one I’ll deliver to mine. On top of that, the appearance, delivery protocol, participation guidelines, and scoring procedures of your state’s assessment have likely changed since last year.

It can be a frustrating but important realization that our field is prone to more procedural limbo, revision, and flux than any other in the realm of education. It’s enough to make you stop and think for a moment: How did we get here . . . and where are we going?
 
As I understand it, long before I entered the profession, students receiving special education services were excluded from statewide assessments. However, since 1997’s amended IDEA law, not only have students with significant cognitive disabilities been required to participate in testing, but schools have been required to develop alternate means of assessment for those students.

Melissa: The Mouse Project

It’s the most wonderful lesson plan of the year! Last year, my class participated in a trip where people with disabilities could shop for the holidays with a little extra assistance. Most of my students brought money to purchase items for their families, but not all were able to do so. So what was I going to have them do while the others shopped ‘til they dropped (that they would genuinely like and that would not cause a behavior problem in public)?

Thus was born what became known as The Mouse Project. I thought it would be fun for my students to buy holiday gifts for a local family in need. Where would we get the money for these gifts? Well, we would run a little business from our classroom, of course!

The class worked together to make holiday ornaments that looked like mice. And silly me, I didn’t get enough glue for each student to have their own bottle. They had to take turns, ask nicely, and say “please” and “thank you.” They did a wonderful job of making each mouse unique—and practiced lots of social skills along the way.

Megan: “I’m Thankful for You”

“If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, ‘thank you,’ that would suffice.” ~ Meister Eckhart

As the holidays approach, it’s time to take a break from the hustle and bustle of work and home and reflect on the things we are all blessed and thankful to have in our lives.

I’ve recently had a rough spell at work. I have five amazing students, and as individuals they are the coolest kids I know. As a group, however . . . Well, in the words of my social worker, “It is like putting Steven Tyler, John Lennon, and Michael Jackson in a band together. Great as individuals, but as a group, they might not make beautiful music.”

Kudos for Reality 101

We did it again! Reality 101 has been named one of the top 25 blogs about early childhood education, this time by guidetoonlineschools.com.

Just last year, CEC’s flagship blog TOPPED the list of 50 best blogs for special educators, as published by onlineuniversities.com.

Congrats to all those who make Reality 101 possible -- especially the CEC members who dedicate their time to sharing their teaching experiences with the special education community.

Brad: The Jury’s Still Out On Web-Based Curriculum

Last week I was called to jury duty. My two days inside the courthouse involved a little listening and a lot of sitting in hallways wondering what was going on in my classroom. All this waiting led to an uneventful dismissal from jury selection. I jaunted directly out into the freezing rain and took the city bus back to school.

As I rode through the run-down neighborhoods familiar to so many of my students, I even felt a little wistful about not being selected for the jury. After all, it’s comforting to think that in a world with as many complications as this one has, there remains a belief that 12 randomly selected citizens will collectively dole out an honorable justice. I stuck the yellow courthouse tour brochure inside the pocket of my bag and searched my mind for a future date to schedule a class visit.

Aren’t all teachers skeptical of what goes on in their classrooms when they aren’t there? Call me self-centered or student-centered, worried or dramatic, but I’m always glad to be back with the students and teacher assistants. And almost as soon as I returned, I was summoned to a case management meeting, followed by an IEP amendment meeting. While I caught up on attendance, behavior charts, and scheduling, the teacher assistants performed the most enjoyable part of special education – teaching.

Melissa: Invested

I just returned home from an amazing convention! A colleague and I were fortunate enough to attend the Geneva Centre for Autism’s International Symposium in Toronto. As a teacher to students on the autism spectrum, just about everyone I would want to hear speak was at this conference.

Even more fulfilling than what I learned there was the knowledge that my school district appreciates me enough to invest in this professional development experience. In a time when budgets are so tight, it really warms my heart that I am highly valued as a professional educator. This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience and I’m really excited to share the highlights with you.

We had one full-day session with social thinking expert Michelle Garcia Winner. She was so engaging and offered tons of ideas I can use the second I step back into my classroom. Lately my “bag of tricks” has felt a little empty, and she swooped in with Santa’s sack chock-full of goodies.

Megan: Special Education Rockstar

“Welcome to the jungle. We take it day by day.” ~ Guns N' Roses

I think there are days when every special education teacher feels like a rockstar. Everything falls into perfect harmony, just like a concert. The curriculum programs are in sync, the staff is all on the same page, the students are ready and willing to listen, and every intervention hits that perfect pitch. The “audience” leaves learning something new. You walk out of the room knowing you made a difference, feeling . . . well, like a rockstar!

And as every rockstar knows, there are slumps. I am in one of those slumps right now. If you had asked me six weeks ago what is the most essential characteristic of a special education teacher, I would have said flexibility. Now, I’m learning just how flexible I can be.