Professor Mother Blog

December 20, 2010

Losing Adam

Filed under: College information,Schools — profmother @ 9:58 am

Not only the worst of my sins, but the best of my duties speak me a child of Adam” – William Beveridge

This is the season of hecticness- of too much to do, and Christmas and the end of the semester and a New Year and… and… and…life- lived at a fast pace.

And I just found out that my friend, Adam got taken off of life support by his beloved wife.

I call Adam my friend, but really, we weren’t “friends”.  We didn’t exchange confidences; we didn’t talk about the latest things in our lives- heck we rarely even directly talked.  But we were two similarly-aged professors in the same department, and I understood where he was coming from.  We shared friends in common.  I got his humor.  But we weren’t peers.

For Adam, was, ultimately, my teacher.  Adam was a person with a vision.  He was an education revolutionary- who wanted to use education as a means of bringing about social justice.  A man whose hero, among others, was Paolo Friere- whose philosophy of “Liberation through Education” – that people who are poor and powerless can achieve the means to change the system through literacy.

Adam taught me that education is a tool- a tool for change, a tool for people bettering their lives, not by copying the lives of others, but by gaining their own power.  One can only redefine a system if one understands it.

What I most admired about Adam is that he lived, he truly lived his ideals.  His was no “airy-fairy, feel-good” philosophy.  Adam organized a bunch of students to live in a homeless “tent city” on the college campus for a week so that they might truly begin to understand the emotional and physical impacts of being homeless and powerless.  Adam led groups of students and faculty to Jamaica for three weeks to work in the schools and hospitals there- not to “do good”, but to empower the people there to do good for themselves through education.  Adam got our family involved in the “Santa Project” in which students and faculty brought food and presents to a homeless shelter in Louisville- where my children for the first time saw desperation close up and realized that these were not bad people- these were people who had made bad choices or had bad things happen to them- or who had been failed by a bad system- and that education was the way that they could find power for themselves.  Adam was a missionary- not for religion, but for individual strength and systemic change.  For the power of education.

Adam’s laugh would echo through the hallways of the college.  He sang and played guitar in a band, and I would feel a teeny crush on him as we watched him sing about injustice and lonliness and irony.  He was sarcastic and impatient at times-especially during faculty meetings- and while his ideas were bigger than a college could absorb at times, his vision and laugh endeared him- even to administrators and Foundation board members of a small Catholic college in the Midwest.  He once said that he was there because he needed to make a difference where he was a lone voice, not in a place where he was but one of many voices.  Adam… Adam was a changer.

And Adam changed me.  Even though we were not “friends”, even though I hovered around the periphery of his activities, he made me think.  He made me reconsider what I did for children with exceptionalities, why I was in education.  He made me see systemic injustice whereas before I had seen only individual struggle.  I read Merton; I read Friere; I read Adam.  He was a revolutionary.  And to my own students, I now can show a world where they can make a difference; where by educating others, they are the only hope of making a difference.  I admired him; I cared for him and I grieve that a good man of vision and love is gone.

He was in his late 30′s, early 40′s.  He played tennis, ran regularly, and drank occasionally.  He watched what he ate, and was almost gaunt at times with the power of his convictions.  If I had ever, in a morbid moment, imagined his death, it would have been an assassination, or being shot in a Freedom March, or being killed as he traversed the ghettos of Oakland or Louisville or Jamaica or some other home of desperation.  It would not have been as a heart attack, a week before Christmas.

His wife- whom he always introduced as his “partner”- who brought out a glow in his eyes like no one else- sent out an email yesterday that ended with one of his favorite quotes.

Nasa Proverb (Colombia)

The word without
action is empty,
action without the
word is blind,
and action and the word
outside the spirit of the community
is death.

Adam, indeed, formed a community- and one that spread far beyond his immediate touch.  One of our students wrote on his Facebook page: You really helped me to grow in my view of the world, and how it could be with my help.

The power of education, indeed.  Amongst these days of light, is grief.

Taken by Sonya Burton

December 6, 2010

Failing a Second Chance

Filed under: Autism,Schools — profmother @ 10:03 am

The County of St. Lucie in Florida, is $350,000 poorer because of one terrible teaching moment.  In 2008, Wendy Portillo, a kindergarten teacher, was annoyed at Alex Barton.  He had been uncooperative, lying on the floor, chewing up his crayons, and eating his boogers0 for months.  He did not talk nicely to other children, but yelled at them.  I do not know, but I believe that she was frustrated.  She was not receiving help, because he had no prior label.  The children were frustrated, and she did not feel that she was getting through to Alex when she kept trying to enforce consequences.  He did not seem to care about the consequences that she could give him.  Spanking was prohibited or ineffective as well, and so Ms. Portillo felt that she was out of options.  And so, she set out to teach him a lesson- a lesson in which he might learn that actions have consequences, and that what he did was not acceptable.  It was a lesson that most teachers repeat and repeat to their students.  It is a lesson that is particularly important in kindergarten where children are beginning to learn social norms, to learn how to cooperate together, how to learn together.  A child who does not learn such rules has to be taught what the “real world” demands.  It is equally frustrating to work with other children who are demanding that the adult “do something”- when a child cries that another child hurt him, hurt his feelings, and the grownups do nothing.  Everyone was tired of asking for help and getting none.  The feeling of powerlessness that comes about from not being able to stop a child’s behaviors, and not being able to protect the others can lead to incredible frustration and anger. 

And so, Ms. Wendy Portillo, in a teaching moment that is now a shining example of what NOT TO DO, chose to play a “Survivor-style” game in which the children voted someone from the class “off the island”, or in other words, out of her classroom.  And so, Alex Barton was sent to the principal’s office as a last-ditch means of teaching him to take control of his actions.

Of course, we all know that what she did was completely unacceptable.  We know that teaching 5-year olds that they can gang up on someone and exclude them is one of the worst possible lessons that one can teach.  We now know that Alex Barton had Asperger’s Syndrome and that he had no choice in this, either. 

But I also know that I have seen many, many teachers reach this point of “There’s nothing more I can do.”.  That teachers who are frustrated, and angry and do not have enough support get tired of asking for help that does not come.  That teachers who are doing the very best they know how to do don’t have enough training, experience or understanding to handle children with diverse needs.  Let us not forget that Alex had not yet been identified, and so Ms. Portillo did not have the support of a trained special education teacher.  She did not have the excuse of a label.  And so, she tried a teaching game- one in which Alex was supposed to learn that actions have consequences.  She didn’t know what else to do. 

And so, Ms. Portillo was suspended for a year.  Alex’s parents got a $350,000 settlement last week.  And Ms. Portillo did not lose her job.

There have been many, many, many people who called for her firing.  Who demanded to know “What kind of teacher would do that?”  Who were horrified that she would be allowed to continue to teach after teaching such a lesson.

But it in the very nature of education to turn a mistake into a learning moment.  Wendy Portillo was allowed to keep her job for two reasons:

  1. She had been a good teacher before- Over 13 fellow teachers and former students at a school board meeting attested to her caring, her teaching, and what they learned with her.  They painted a picture of a strong teacher who was fed up, frustrated, and at the end of her rope without resources.  She, of all people, could learn from this experience and learn how to never let it happen again.  She would be able to be more understanding, more sympathetic. 
  2. If Wendy Portillo were fired, there was no way of ensuring that the teacher hired to take her place would do any better.  If Wendy Portillo, an experienced teacher, had made such a terrible teaching choice, how much more damage could a rookie teacher make? 

Firing was not seen as the solution- rehabilitation and training were.  In other words, she should have the opportunity to make a mistake.  It’s the only way to learn.  And so, Ms. Portillo was hired as a sixth grade science teacher.  I can’t help but believe that the transition from teaching kindergarten to teaching sixth grade was at the same time very different and very similar. 

Clearly, there are problems in St. Lucie County.  Clearly, there is not enough training for teachers, not enough support for teachers with children with special needs.  And clearly, there has not been enough sensitization of general education teachers to the challenges that children with disabilities face.  Normally, I have tremendous respect for teachers- and defend them because so much of the poor education that children face in schools is a result of lack of teacher training, lack of time, lack of resources, and lack of support.

However, Ms. Portillo didn’t fully learn the lessons of how one works with children with special needs.  She got in trouble again this past fall when she asked if she could opt out of wearing a microphone system for a child with hearing problems, and asked the child if she could just speak louder.  She also wore her microphone incorrectly, where it was ineffective for the student.  In other words, she was asking the child if she could “opt out” of the requirements established by the IEP team- as if the requirements were arbitrarily determined.  There are very few sixth graders who have the conviction to deny a teacher’s request, and to own up to a problem- and so the student said “ok”.  Once again, Ms. Portillo was letting her own challenges dictate how she interacted with children with disabilities, rather than trying to understand, to learn, to change. 

I have to wonder.  If someone like Wendy Portillo- who has received a second chance, who has received additional training- hasn’t learn that children with special needs are children first and that they can’t describe, can’t understand and can’t advocate for themselves yet, then she should not be a teacher. And yet… she is still teaching.

Once is a mistake.  Twice is a trend… The first time, shame on St. Lucie and their lack of training and support.  The second time?  Shame on St. Lucie and their lack of backbone.

December 3, 2010

Tuwoo Luvvvv

Filed under: Autism,Home Things,Schools — profmother @ 11:35 am

I’m trying to join the “Blog Hop”, devoted to children with special needs and new and exciting developments. But it’s apparently beyond my technological abilities to add the html coding in right <a href=”">here… sigh.  So, here’s a link to Elvis Sightings, who got it right…

Elizabeth has her first sweetheart.  Well, perhaps not her very first… but her first sweetheart in fourth grade.

Her very first sweetheart was in preschool- at age 3 to be precise.  His name was Tyler and he was a “younger man” whose birthday was 4 months after hers.  We all remember Tyler for two things- his 4th birthday party that was Star Wars-themed- since my children had never heard of it and were boggled at the stuff- and for being responsible for Elizabeth discovering kissing.  She liked kissing Tyler and he liked kissing her.  A lot.  They got in trouble for kissing during almost every classroom party.  They were separated most of them, but over the course of that year, they kissed at every major holiday.  We all laughed and were glad that they enjoyed each other- because they really did.  Tyler was Elizabeth’s first friend- they played cars together, they ran around together and they gravitated towards each other on the playground.  Theirs was a relationship of few words.  Elizabeth was still struggling to learn to talk and tended to run when she was bored.  Tyler ran after her, which distracted her and provided a game.  The teacher, who was also Tyler’s mother,soon realized that this type of play allowed both of them a partner, distracted them both from negative emotions, and worked with them on appropriate boundaries.  And separated them at holiday parties.

Elizabeth and Tyler were best friends/sweethearts for an entire year- which at that point, was 1/4 of their lives!  When we were leaving at the end of the school year, Elizabeth cried, and Tyler (ok, Tyler’s mom) made her a card and gave her a necklace.  We moved- and Elizabeth continued to cry.  She cried for six months- and I have very distinct memories of holding my 4 1/2 year child in our rocking chair as she cried over a boy.

Until she met Theo.  She and Theo did group work together, ran around with each other, and played house together at her new preschool.  The day they played husband and wife, and yes… kissed, the teacher had to discuss boundaries with them.  Elizabeth was all ready to settle down with Theo after six months of togetherness, but we moved… again.

In Louisville, Elizabeth cried over Theo, but not as much, because she immediately met George in kindergarten.  What she had learned from her previous encounters was that teachers will stop you if you kiss, so you can kiss as long as you’re not caught.  However, the day that she and George kissed behind the school during recess, the other children were so agog with interest that the teachers immediately found out- and it was dealt with quietly.  Not a huge fuss- but a clear message of “Not appropriate”.    Elizabeth soon found out that her friends would rat her out, because George liked kissing her and they kissed a couple more times, when it was brought to my attention by the teachers.  She also decided that she didn’t really like George as much as she had thought- he wanted to play football and not just run.  He wanted to talk to his friends more than he wanted to talk to her- and so she stopped hanging out with George and found new friends- girls this time, and none of whom she kissed.

Until Jack.  Jack is Ray’s best friend- whom we love and whose family we’re very close to.  That Jack.  Elizabeth has always hung around the periphery of Ray and Jack’s friendship, playing their games as well and sharing in their conversations.  She started collecting Pokemon cards with them, and built Legos with them.  For Ray’s 6th birthday, Ray, Elizabeth and Jack and I went to the Newport Aquarium, and stayed late.  I was driving the three of them home- about an hour-long drive- and Ray started getting very… Ray.  Grumpy, tired, outbursts, etc.  Jack, who has learned how to handle Ray, simply turned his attention to Elizabeth and they started talking quietly and laughing together.  About halfway through the drive, Ray fell asleep.  All was quiet in the back seat, until I heard a little giggle from Elizabeth.  That kind of giggle.  I looked in the rear view mirror and saw Jack leaning in and Elizabeth leaning flirtaciously back.  Clearly, there had been kissing going on.  “Excuse me,” I interrupted.  “We don’t need to be kissing.  That is not appropriate.”  And I drove the rest of the way home inwardly gawking that I just busted my 7-year old daughter making out in the back seat.

Evidently, Jack’s parents spoke to him, or Elizabeth decided that Jack was better as a pseudo-brother than a sweetheart, because there has been no repeat of the kissing.  And there hasn’t been any sweetheart or male play partner since then.  Elizabeth has since learned that in 2nd and 3rd grades, the boys don’t really want to be friends with a- ewww! girl! and her play partners have been limited to girls.

And then 4th grade hit- and Emily.  Emily is much, much more mature than Elizabeth.  Emily, who has started the “So-and-so likes so-and-so” whisper campaigns.  Whose first comment after seeing the recent Harry Potter movie was “Did you see them KISSING?”, completely ignoring the scary plot line.  Emily is clearly ahead of my daughter.

I hope she’s ahead of my daughter.

Because last night, as I was tucking Elizabeth into bed last night, she shared that she “likes Jason”.  Jason who sits next to her.  Jason who helps her with her science.  Jason, whom Emily does not like because he blurts out the answers and talks too much.  Jason who is smart and funny and cute and likes her too- she thinks.  She’s planning on asking Molly to ask if he likes her too.

I watched my daughter with stars in her eyes describe a boy that she liked and my heart turned over.

Turned over because I remember 4th grade love- Ronny Jackson.  I remember not having the nerve to actually talk to him, but becoming a “couple” through the intricacies of 4th grade relationship-building that is done through proxy, where my friends talked to him about me, and his friends talked to me about him.  How we were a ”couple” until Tammy Sanchez- my “best friend”- who had been the go-between, decided that she liked him and informed him and me and the rest of the 4th grade that he was now her boyfriend.  4th grade is brutal.

As I listened to Elizabeth get starry-eyed last night, I worried about heartbreak.  If she could cry over Tyler for six months, what will she do over Jason?  Her little heart is very, very passionate and when she gets attached, she gets attached.  She doesn’t really understand the relationship games of 4th grade- the whimsical, gossipy, girl garbage that happens.  The stuff that hurts.

And I worry about the kissing.  I brought it up, since she has a history- and suggested that she might want to wait- that she wasn’t old enough to be kissing him.  With the logic of an experienced woman, she argued, “But Mommy- I’ve already kissed Tyler and Theo and George and Jack.  I liked them and I kissed them.  Why can’t I kiss Jason?”  And I was stuck in the quandary… How to describe the concept to my 9 year-old daughter who is very logical and very literal that kisses change as you get older?  That even though you like someone, you need to use discretion?  That there are words for girls who kiss too many boys?  That kisses should be withheld for the “right” boy?  That she’s too young?

It doesn’t help that James and I are quite affectionate with each other.  No Public Displays of Affection- nothing inappropriate at all.  But we kiss- a lot.  We laugh with each other and we snuggle with each other.  We touch each other.  We have tried to create a warm, loving environment in our house.  And Elizabeth has interpreted that, with perfect logic, as “When you like someone, you kiss them.”  And seeing the stars in her eyes last night, it is clear that I can’t tell her that this is not her last love- that she will love others- more, deeper- that love keeps getting better and better as you get older.  For her, right now, Jason is IT.

And so, I fell back on that old, useless, Mother-ese, of “Just trust me.  You’re not old enough.” And yes, I worry about middle school and hormones.  And yes, I worry about high school.  I worry about when kisses turn into… more than kisses.  I worry about Elizabeth’s complete and whole-hearted love.  I worry about heartbreak, and I worry about her reputation. But admist that worry, I watch the glow on my girl’s face, and I smile.

‘Cuz right now, she’s in love.

I do expect a phone call any day from the school, though… sigh.

November 11, 2010

Testing Pictures

Filed under: Exceptionality issues,Schools — profmother @ 4:23 pm

There’s an interesting conversation going on in the comments over on Diary of a Mom…   Go ahead- read them- but come on back, and I’ll tell you my view.

**************

First of all, I am NOT a psychologist.  I am a teacher of teachers- in other words, I teach folks how to take the RESULTS of assessments and translate them into effective learning experiences for a child.  But in order to do that, you have to understand assessments.  Whether the test results are from a school psychologist, a neuropsych, or even the classroom teacher who sits down to watch a kid, assessments have to be done in order to know what to do with a child.

There are two kinds of assessments- those that compare one child with a group of children, and those that compare a child with a pre-established set of knowledge or skills.  When I tell parents that their child is reading at a third grade reading level, there are two possible meanings to that phrase-

  1. It MIGHT mean that their child is reading at the fluency level, comprehension, decoding and analysis level as a level that the school system/the publisher of the text books/ system says is third grade level,  has mastered the skills that are called 2nd grade level, but not yet mastered the skills that are called 4th grade level, OR
  2. It may mean that their child is reading the same fluency rate, comprehension, decoding and analysis level of other children who are 8-9 years old.

These are not the same thing.  They are often similar, but they are not the same thing.

A child who is reading at a third grade level is expected to have already mastered the concepts, ideas, etc. of skills and knowledge at the 2nd grade level, but not have yet mastered the knowledge and skills that are at a 4th grade level.  The “criterion-referenced” assessment tells me, as an educator, where in a scope and sequence of specified skills a child is- what he or she has achieved and what he or she needs to work on next.  It tells me where there are holes in a child’s knowledge and what skills a child has mastered.

Criterion referenced tests are very, very useful for teaching.  The information can provide a road map of instruction.  It can give me the “What” for teaching- What do I need to work on with this child?  The words “third grade level” simply tell me that most of the time, that’s where this material is taught, but there is no hard and fast relationship to third grade.  In Montessori education, teachers often take away the grade level designations, and focus simply on a progression of skills- that are mapped in order and by a set of materials.  As a child finishes one set, they are moved onto the next set.  But the criterion assessment drives the instruction- what does a child know and what can he do?

What a criterion-referenced test does NOT do, though, is tell me how that child compares to other children.  If a publisher calls a book “3rd grade reading level” because it comes after the “2nd grade” reading materials in level of difficulty, but no one who is 8-9 years old in a school, in a district, in a state can do that material- then it’s not at a “typical 3rd grader level”.  Similarly, if everyone in a school, class, etc. can read it, then it’s not at a typical 3rd grader level.”.  Most publishers, when they present their grade level information, have set it up in a sequence of skills, and determined how well most kids at that age level do on those skills.

Normative tests tell us if there are “strengths” and if there are “challenges”- and these questions ALWAYS need comparisons.  If a 4-year old is reading the same materials of an 8-year old, then we say that the child is strong in reading.  If a child is 14 and reading at the level of an 8-year old, then we say that reading is a weaknesses.

Comparison to WHO is another question.  If I compare a child to other children, then I can get an idea of how that child compares to others of his or her age and I can get an idea of strengths and challenges.  If I compare a child to other assessments that the child has taken, then I can get an idea of relative strengths and challenges within that same child.  If a child has a “problem”, that determination is made using normative data.  ”A problem compared to what?” is the question that I ask.  Compared to others of his or her own age?  Or compared to other pieces of data within the child’s assessment picture?

There are lots and lots of areas that can be assessed to give us a “picture” of a child.  Children can be assessed in all areas of development and compared to their peers in some areas, and compared to themselves in others, and placed in a sequence of skills and knowledge in others.  Children can be assessed:

  • Physically- “ill” is a relative term compared to “well”.  ”Tall” is a normative comparison. “Can cross mid-line” is a criterion-referenced point.
  • Socially and Behaviorally- “Can maintain proper social distance” is a criterion referenced point.  ”Is acting like a typical 4th grade girl” is a normative point.
  • Academically- “Mastered phonics decoding” is a criterion-referenced point.  ”Is in the 50th percentile” is a normative point stating that 50% of scores of same-aged peers fall above, and 50% of peers score below
  • Cognition functioning and thinking skills- “Attention is age-appropriate” is normative, “Can focus on tasks for a maximum of 3-5 minutes” is criterion.
  • Language- “Can sustain a conversation for 12 minutes” is a criterion point.  ”Can maintain appropriate conversational length” is criterion
  • Emotionally- “Has difficulty maintaining control in crowded situations” is a criterion referenced point.  ”Has self-esteem issues” is probably a norm-referenced point, because it often means that compared to other aspects of the child- but can be compared to other people- self-esteem is the biggest “problem”.

…. and on and on.  The developmental aspect being measured is the key to a good test.  What information are you/a teacher/ a doctor / a therapist/ a parent looking for in order to work with the child better?

All of these assessments together provide me with a complete picture of a child.  I can get a picture of the “What” and the “How” of how I can best work with this child.  If I’m teaching specific content or a set of skills, I need criterion data to know what I can teach next.  If I’m teaching a child in the context of other children and I’m grouping in a way to be most efficient in my instructional approaches, I need normative data comparing the child to others.  If I’m trying to find the most effective method of providing information to a child in a way that he or she will learn best, or I’m trying to remediate areas of difficulty, I have to have normative data compared to the child overall.

My areas of expertise are with those kids whose assessment pictures are often very different compared to other children of their same age.  I work with parents and children who are gifted and have disabilities.  Needless to say, normative data that tells me that this child has “problems” in one area or another is not completely helpful.  When a 2nd grader is reading at the 99th percentile compared to other children their age, I have no idea how high they really are.  Are they reading material at the 5th grade level?  At the 9th grade level?  College?  I have no real idea where to start.  And the same holds true for children who are in the lower part of an assessment.  A child with autism may be in the 1st percentile of language.  Are they non-verbal?  Speaking like a toddler?  Able to provide grammatical structure?

Normative data provides labels and a profile of strengths and challenge.  Yup, you’re high enough/low enough that you need something different- you learn in different ways.  It can also show me how far I have to go- or how well I’ve done.  If I’m working with a child who is in general education curriculum, normative data can pinpoint the areas I have to work on- whether those areas are academic, language, social, whatever.  I can see how much work might be needed. If I’m working with a gifted child, I can see how much growth the child has made in a certain amount of time compared to his peers.

Criterion data can help me figure out what knowledge or skills I need to work on next- and how far I’ve come.  The child has mastered social distance, but needs help in self-control.  He’s mastered basic chemistry concepts and next comes in-depth work on the periodic table of elements.  He’s mastered two-digit addition, and next comes two-digit with carrying.  He’s learned to hold a fork, and next comes working with a knife.

Please notice that I have not once mentioned specific tests- the tests all measure something on the developmental aspect of a child.  Different tests will give different glimpses into the whole “picture” of a child.  Some tests are wonderful measures of cognitive functioning.  Some give comparisons of a child’s executive functioning.  Others do fabulous jobs at looking at a child’s math skills.  Some do broad reading skills; others do in-depth examinations of specific reading skills.

The selection of a test has everything to do with what you want to find out. Do you want an understanding of how this child’s attention compares to others of his or her age?  Do you want an idea of what language skills the child has mastered?  Do you want an understanding of what modality this child learns best in?  There’s a test for that.

As a teacher, as a parent, I love test data.  The data can help me better identify how to help a child; I waste less time trying to figure out the individual strengths of a child and going over skills that might either bore or frustrate the child.  As a parent, I stopped using words and started using pictures to give my child directions about how to clean her room, how to use the toilet.  I learned to give instructions one at a time.  Some of this I figured out the hard way.  But when I got the test data from a good doctor, it made sense- she has superior visual memory and very low sequential memory. “Oh… now that makes sense”.  The tests confirmed what I already had a hunch about, but wasn’t positive how it fit in.

And it’s important to have good test data.  One psychologist tested my son and got a “typical” reading on intelligence, but a 130 academically and had the gall to tell me that that was not an unexpected result.  I knew better- I know tests and I know my son.  I then went to a psychologist who understands twice-exceptional children and got test data that made more sense.  You can’t “buy” the right test score by shopping around psychologists, but you can make sure that you find one who will match the right tests to the child- and get answers to the right questions.

But… there is no one test or even series of tests that can provide a complete picture of a child.  The only thing that can do that?  Love.  Parents know their children best.  The tests just put into words what we already know.

November 10, 2010

True Grit

Filed under: Schools,Tourette's Syndrome — profmother @ 7:02 am

I was brought to tears last night at the incredible bravery of my son.

He volunteered for, auditioned for, and got a speaking part in his school’s 2nd and 3rd grade song performance for the parents that the wonderful music teacher, Mrs. J, puts on every year.  Last year he thrilled down to his toes as he sang patriotic songs for the  Veteran’s Day sing.  The enjoyment of that memory buoyed him up to speak up when the teacher was asking for volunteers for this year’s “Celebration of Music”.

He came home a month or so ago bursting with pride to tell me about it.  He was Speaker #8 and had three very long sentences that introduced the third song.  He read it a few times and then refused to practice.  ”Nah- I got it,” he would brush me off when I suggested that he practice with me.  Two days ago, I finally bribed him to read it through with the lure of cookies- two cookies for 10 times reading it through.  He garbled it, ran through it, and said it correctly maybe twice in those 10 minutes- when he had the paper right in front of him.  He said “wite” for “right”, and “thud” for “Third”.  I have learned not to pressure him, and I hoped that the visual memory would carry him through- that, and I’ve heard that Mrs. J stands off to the side to prompt them.  I gave him his cookies and resigned myself.

Last night, I watched him with my heart in my throat during the first two songs.  It was a crowded auditorium- well over 500 people.  The lights were bright on the stage.  The children filed in and he was on the side, next to his best friend.  He was ticcing- not really obviously, but he was tapping his arm- to the point that it interfered with the salute that they were to do during the second song. He didn’t swing and beebop with the other children- he stood there and wrung his hands.  He didn’t even sing- I could see his mouth was still- just every now and then popping with a verbal tic.  I hoped that everyone would be kind; that Mrs. J would be right there; that maybe the microphone would go out.  And we waited for Speaker #8.

He and a little girl- Speaker #9- strode out to the front of the stage, where he picked up his microphone.  I heard him take a deep breath.  And we in the audience heard every word- clearly, in the right order, and  with almost perfect pronunciation.  He hit every “l”, every “r” and paused between sentences.  He lost his place once, and quickly righted himself, finishing the sentence.  And then, he was done.  He waited for the little girl to finish, bowed and took his place.

When he looked triumphantly in our direction, I lifted my hands to clap for him so that he could see, but I could barely make him out through the blur of tears in my eyes.  The enormity of what he had just done just overwhelmed me and I… I sat in that audience and quiet, silent tears absolutely streamed down my face.   His speech teacher, who helped me fight for services last year, was sitting right behind me, and reached over to pat me and said “Nice work!”  I leaned back, and in a choked whisper said “Thank you.”.  She and I both knew that I was thanking her- for her instruction, for her insistence on giving service to a child who “wasn’t affected” academically, but was wobbling right on the edge of problems, and for her persistence.  And I was thanking God that Ray did it…  He could do it and he did do it.  Tonight, he did not let Tourette’s win, he did not let anxiety win, he did not let speech problems win.

As I was tucking him into bed, I shared with him…

Courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. Nelson Mandela

Ray got one of his perfect, rare smiles and snuggled down- silent now and proud.

My great-grandmother, in her imitable Texas way, would have called it “Grit” what he did tonight.  And she, too, would have been proud.

October 18, 2010

All About Me (Version Ray)

Filed under: Schools — profmother @ 11:12 am

A snapshot of Ray from a school paper he brought home…

Name: Ray

Grade: 3rd

My Favorites

Food: Steak Yum- I agree!  My children are both voracious meat-eaters…

Music: Rap sigh…

Sport: Soccer James is happy

Color: Black Not sure what to make of this… allegiance to Georgia or something darker?

Movie: Clash of the Titans The Greek Gods at war- we’re living a year of Greek Gods this year…

Book: Hairy Potter Just a misspelling- as far as I know.

Place: Chicago One of our favorite trips ever!

Subject: Math Which is interesting to me because he’s SO verbal and SO good at reading

My hobbies are: Watch TV, soccer Note to self- must reduce TV time…

If you could choose an animal that best represents your character, which would it be and why?: It would be a cat because I like to sleep. Then how come it’s so hard for him to GET to sleep?

Write about what you would like to do or become in the future: I would really be a infester- I THINK he means “investor” since that was we were talking about at the time… but then again, maybe he really does mean “one who infests”?

September 26, 2010

No Superman- But a Lot of Wonder Women (and Men)

Filed under: Schools — profmother @ 10:21 am

There is a new film out that has the support and backing of a number of folks, including my friend Steve, Oprah and Bill Gates, among others.  The film “Waiting for Superman” is the story of children around the country in low-income areas, who are trying to get into the “good” schools- the charter schools in which admission is often determined by lottery.  The title comes from the narrator who shares how, as a child, he kept waiting for Superman to come and fix all of his school’s problems- and how devastated he was when he realized that there was no Superman who would come swooping in and fix everything.

It’s a film that questions why, if these schools offer such a chance for kids, why can’t ALL schools be like them?  Why, when children and parents are flocking to get into a few select schools, why aren’t those options available to ALL students?  It takes on issues such as teacher tenure, financial limitations and the slowness of a system to respond to changing demographics.  It’s a call to action for parents and the public.  It wades right into the middle of many, many sticky issues- and it drives me crazy.

My first reaction was a remembered one as a parent.  We had asked to get into Brown, a public “School of Choice” when we lived in Louisville, Kentucky.  We toured the school, got on the waiting list and were told that since the school selected students from an equal distribution of zip codes around Louisville, we were unlikely to get in because of the proliferation of families from our area.  As we toured with many other parents from our part of town, we asked each other “What will you do if your child does not get in?”  “Go to a private school” was the unanimous statement.  My children did not get in, and we did, indeed, go to a private school.  We had that option.  We had that choice.  

 But I was struck- here were literally hundreds of families being turned away from the possibility of attending a particular public school, and many of us would rather go private than to go to another, more traditional public school.  The public school system was missing out on tens of thousands of dollars from the state that it could have received had my children, and all of those other children who opted for private been given a chance to go to Brown.  If Brown was too small to handle all of us, why the heck didn’t the school system develop another school- to be just like Brown?  You would think that the pressures of supply and demand would force a school system to develop another Brown.  And which school in the district had the highest test scores?  Brown.  There were literally dollars and learning being lost.

I was told by other families that Brown was “too progressive”, “too different” for the school system to develop another one.  That the “system” would really prefer Brown to go away, but that parental pressures and long-time ties to the community kept it alive.  And I was floored… As a parent, I was appalled at a system that a) intentionally lost money and b) was too focused on their way of working to look at what WAS working.  At least, that was my perception.

My second reaction, as an educator, was to find out “why”.  Turns out that Brown is expensive to run.  Turns out that Brown has families that pay for extras through the PTA.  Turns out that Brown has teachers with experience and from training programs that no longer exist.   Turns out that Brown is hard to duplicate, and so the system was focusing on other “schools of choice” that were easier and cheaper to implement.  Schools such as the language immersion program at Hawthorne.  But the perception among the parents turned away from Brown was that of an intractible system.

That intractability of a large system is exactly the issue that the film addresses.  But what really gets me is that almost everyone highlighted in the film as “innovative” or “fixing the system” are from OUTSIDE “the” system.  There are “educational entrepreneurs” and people with Ivy League degrees who taught for a few years with no formal education training.  ALL of the highlighted schools are charter schools.  And that is such a slap in the face.

The research on charter schools- those schools that were highlighted in the film as giving a chance to the students?  The research shows that they are no better academically than “regular” public schools, and in many cases, worse.  They promise great things, but they do not deliver consistently.  Much of it depends, of course, on the individual school.  Variability of scores?  Wow- results that are just like public schools. Perhaps the “charter” part is not the important part.

How credible would it be for people with no training in business or engineering to walk into Apple or Microsoft and tell them how it should be done?  How far would someone with a business degree get if they tried to tell surgeons how to do their job?  After all, people buy computers, right?  People get operated on, right?  Does that make them experts, simply because they are a consumer?  How can people- very smart people, admittedly- but with no training and who worked for a few years or went to school themselves, or who worked on the fringes, really and truly understand the monumental task that changing schools involves?

Because schools are micocosms of society.  Let’s start with the teachers themselves.   It is a battle to even go into teaching today.  When I told my grandmother, an R.N. herself, that I was going into teaching, she told me, “There are three things a woman should never be: A nurse, a teacher and a prostitute.  They’re all under-paid and under-valued.”  While I can’t speak for the other two fields, I can certainly speak for teaching- and she’s right. Most men and women today have many, many other choices- choices that pay better with less stress- and so the ones that do go into teaching go into because of a genuine love for children- and a deep desire to make a difference. 

 When I, as a teacher of teachers, stand up in front of prospective educators, I’m selling them on aspects of the profession that will provide internal motivation- the love of children, the feeling of doing good, and the knowledge that they are making an everyday difference in children’s lives.  I do not tell them that few people will thank them for the job they’re doing.  I do not tell them that they’re going to be working 12-14 hours a day grading and preparing and worrying.  I do not tell them of the vast hole of neediness that their students have and how they will be unable to fill even a small portion of that neediness.  I do not tell them of the parents who will come in yelling at them or the parents who do not come in at all.  I do not tell them that due to public concerns and money whims, they will be asked to raise a child’s reading level 3 grade levels in one year, while increasing the numbers of students within the classroom and cutting the supply monies and reducing professional development.  I do not tell them that 50% of them will quit within 5 years — and if they teach special education, within 3 years.

I do tell them that I can empower them. I tell them that we know what works in education — this is not some secret that we’re holding on to. We know that involved parents, time, interactive learning and healthy lunch programs all help to raise test scores, increase student graduation and make for happier teachers.

It is wonderful that the film asks parents to take responsibility for their child’s learning.  Test scores go up when parents — at any school– become involved.  But as families becomes more and more impoverished, as the structures of society begin to crumble, when parents and families are dealing with so much stuff in their own lives, that they can’t even take care of themselves, much less their children– it is the teachers who are the last bulwark, who are expected to “turn them around”.  When children are so hurt and angry and betrayed at a family, a society, a system that has forgotten them, they are difficult to teach.  Not impossible- just difficult. And we do.

And when school boards, governed by “ordinary” people, reduce the number of days that students will be in schools, and when “innovative” practices, such as year-round schooling, are shot down by a local school board because schooling cuts into summer vacation plans, and when after-school programs are cut for lack of funding, there is not much time to do what we need to do.  But we do.

And when students come to school hungry because they have not eaten, or their families only buy food from fast-food places because it’s the cheapest food available, and children are obese from lack of exercise because their streets are dangerous, and the school food is the poorest quality from the producers, but the healthiest that children are going to get, it’s hard to get their attention for learning triple-digit multiplication.  But we do.

And when the system is scared and powerless from a public that demands high test scores, but is unwilling to do those things that raise test scores, it’s hard to teach in ways that are less than “traditional”.  Let’s look at just math.  In almost every international test, we are dramatically outscored by Singapore.  According to a friend of mine in the Ministry of Education in Singapore, they spend all of first grade on nothing but place value.  No addition, no subtraction, just place value.  And they GET place value. The children LEARN place value. When they move  to second and third grades, they do nothing all year except addition and subtraction.  No multiplication, no percents, just a deep and true understanding of math. Multiplication doesn’t really start until the latter part of third grade. There is no surprise that we are more competitive at the fourth grade level compared to other countries.  They haven’t covered what we’ve covered.  But once they get to fifth grade, they don’t have to spend six, nine, twelve weeks reviewing.  They don’t have to cover fractions in four weeks in fourth grade, and again for four weeks in fifth grade and once again, for five weeks in sixth grade.  There is no surprise that we sink to the bottom by twelfth grade- they understand in depth much more than we do.

Try telling a school system, one that is aware of the pressures faced by our graduates in an international marketplace, that we aren’t going to be teaching our children multiplication until fourth grade, and you will hear screams.  There isn’t a school board in the country that would see the delay of content as a step ahead — and so we keep cramming more and more into our curriculum, hoping that it will stick.  Our curriculum, according to friends of mine at the US Department of Education, is a “mile wide and an inch deep”.   And the more we have to teach, the more challenges we face in schools, the more teachers need ongoing training- training is that being cut as well.  There’s no surprise that we’re losing in math scores and almost every other kind of score — we don’t spend the time to teach it.

I applaud the movie for bringing the topic of education to the forefront.  The struggles that we face on a day-to-day basis can be helped with the actions the film is calling for — more involved parents, greater flexibility to respond to student needs- things that are happening at so many schools- public and charter- but not at enough.  But it doesn’t call for those things that really and truly make a difference in all schools- teachers who are paid well, respected by the society and the parents, and training.  Leaders who are trained and are not just promoted because they’re the winning coach.  School boards who focus on what is best for children and not what we’ve always done.  And curriculum that focuses on the development of a few skills well. 

Schools aren’t bad because they want to be.  Schools aren’t bad because we don’t know what we’re doing.  Schools aren’t necessarily bad because of “bad teachers”, or “bad principals”.  Those reasons are too simplistic for a very, very complex issue.   Schools are failing because too many people think that they know how to fix them and schools are pulled apart in the ensuing struggle.   Polls consistently show that families support their local schools, but are worried about “schools” in general.  In other words, the perception is that education in this country is terrible, but my local school is doing the best it can.  Schools are struggling because our society is struggling. There is no easy fix.  Familiarity breeds, not contempt, but understanding of the struggles that educators face every day.  Familiarity breeds respect for what teachers can accomplish, given what they have to face. 

I only wish that the movie had shown the same respect and the same familiarity with schools.  I applaud the efforts of Bill Gates and Oprah to fix things.  I applaud Dave Guggenheim who directed the film.  But they might ask the schools and the teachers, too – they’re working from the inside.  They know.  We’re all on the same side.  Let’s work together to move education forward, and people from within the system understand the complexities- and want to fix it, too.  Just ask us.  After all, we chose it for our life’s work- to make a difference.

September 3, 2010

All Stars Fixation

Filed under: Autism,Schools — profmother @ 7:26 am

Hey now you’re an All Star get your game on, go play
Hey now you’re a Rock Star get the show on get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold

Smashmouth- All Star

Elizabeth is convinced that Converse All-Stars are the key to school and social success.  My husband is also deeply tickled that he’s cool again. 

“All” of the girls in Elizabeth’s class are wearing Converse sneakers- or at least Emily is.  And since Emily is all that Elizabeth aspires to be (ie. popular, pretty, more developed, and did I mention popular?), Elizabeth has decided that it’s because Emily is wearing really cool shoes. 

At the same time as this flawed perception, Elizabeth’s feet have grown, so it really and truly is time for new shoes.  Which means that for the last week, she has been fixated on going shopping for Converse All Stars.  The first words out of her mouth, every single morning this week, have been, “Are we going?  Is it Friday?  I need Converse, Mommy!” 

To make matters worse, our schedule has been shifting- we have been trying to determine when soccer practices, gymnastics practice and- ahem- my hair cut fit into this week.  First, we were going shopping on Monday, and then Friday, and then Wednesday.  Elizabeth has been in a tizzy.

To make matters worse, she wanted Emily to go with her to share in her glory, and Emily has been a brat this week.  Emily is going through “Fourth Grade Girl Syndrome” and playing emotional games.  Elizabeth bugs her, so she says something mean.  Then, Elizabeth has something she wants, so she’s nice.  She says she’s “busy” and then has a sleep-over at Tracy’s house.  And poor Elizabeth is caught in the shifting sands of Emily’s currents of friendship and so holds on even tighter.  I don’t believe that this is a serious character flaw of Emily- Emily is generally a sweet kid, who truly cares about Elizabeth and I think that some of this is sibling-like.  We’ve weathered this storm before with Emily.  I’ve taught fourth grade girls and they can be mean.  It hurts, though, to have my baby caught in the rip tide of growing up. 

Elizabeth is convinced that the way to Emily’s heart is by having the right shoes.  And so… the need for Converse.

I have to admire Elizabeth’s pluckiness.  On Monday, she asked Emily yet again if she could come with us shopping and yet again, Emily said “No/yes/no”.  Elizabeth was crying to me and I suggested that we bring another friend.  On Tuesday, Elizabeth broke the pattern and said “Never mind, Emily- We’ve invited Serena.”  It was a clear attempt to make Emily jealous, but it allowed Elizabeth an “out”, another friend to share the joy with.  (Serena is a friend at school who has some differences herself.  Her mom and I are friendly, and Serena adores Elizabeth.  It’s time to cultivate that friendship) 

And so on Wednesday, Serena got pink Converse sneakers and Elizabeth got black hightops.  Serena’s mom and I laughed and relaxed in the comfort that only being with another mother of a child with differences can bring.  When the inevitable meltdown came, we parted ways, knowing that we would get together again.  The girls talked, if a bit parallel-y, and Elizabeth was beautiful in her own eyes. 

And best of all?  She ran over to Emily’s house to show her the new shoes and Emily came back over to our house, saying “Those are really cute!” 

I know- that would have been a perfect ending- sunset, girls hand-in-hand skipping off- only it didn’t quite happen that way.  Elizabeth continued to focus on her shoes- extoll their virtues, how they went with everything- to the exclusion of what Emily wanted to talk about, and eventually Emily left, looking bored.  I know that Elizabeth was hoping to rebuild that bond and convinced that discussing the shoes was the way to do it.  She was anxious, and so the sneakers became the only thing she could focus on as a way of getting past that anxiety. 

After Emily left, I snuggled my girl, and suggested that perhaps next time, she could ask Emily how her day was, or ask a question, rather than doing the talking.  “Will she come back?” whispered Elizabeth.

“Of course she will!” I said.  “Now that you have the shoes, you can move on.” 

‘The time has come,’ the walrus said, ‘to talk of many things: of shoes and ships – and sealing wax – of cabbages and kings.’
Lewis Carroll

August 24, 2010

Different- But the Same

Filed under: Autism,Schools — profmother @ 7:44 pm

I have this wonderful and unique opportunity to talk to teachers of children with autism about working with parents of children with autism- how to talk with them, help them, and work through being caught between the large school system bureaucracy and the needs of the child.  I’m going to start with the “official” language- that is found in textbooks, and talk about how that translates into reality- for parents and for them. 

Professional- Delayed and impaired language acquisition and usage

  • Parent – Hearing “I love you, Mommy,” once and not again for two years
  • Teacher – Multiple children screaming in class

Professional- Impaired social interactions

  • Parent –  Not having your child go to birthday parties, or if she does, being the only parent who can’t leave because your child needs you
  • Teacher–  Physical altercations- or teaching them why punching is not a way to say “Hello”

Professional- A spectrum disorder

  • Parent – Meeting another child with autism who is ahead of  grade level and your child cannot even talk
  • Teacher– Having 15 children all on individual plans all with different goals- all at the same time

Professional- A neurological disorder

  • Parent – Results that involve multiple doctors who never talk to each other, nor translate, but you’re still expected to make instant decisions- and good luck to you if you make a decision that conflicts with their professional opinion
  • Teacher– Results that involve multiple doctors who never talk to you, nor translate, but you’re still expected to know everything about their field of specialty and apply it to the classroom- with no money.

Professional- May exhibit sensory-seeking or sensory-defensive behaviors

  • Parent – Not being able to hold your child’s hand without a major meltdown, but having to stop and smell every seashell on the beach
  • Teacher– 15 children who are all putting pencils in their mouths or one who needs it quiet while another one needs rhythmic rocking

Professional- Exhibits a range of abilities

  • Parent – Hearing so many times, “Oh, like Rainman?”
  • Teacher–Trying to teach one child algebra while teaching another the letter “A”

Professional- Irritable and impulsive

  • Parent – Having your child scream at the top of their lungs in a rage that is so severe that words cannot find them, or a cold shower stop them- for 2.5 hours
  • Teacher– Never having a day be calm; watching the door like a hawk, so that your runner doesn’t leave and then having your “Sweet one” start throwing chairs

Professional- Exhibits repetitive behaviors

  • Parent - Watching “Matilda” 18 times in 10 days
  • Teacher– Having a child ask you- every single day- “What time is lunch?”

Professional- Fascination with self

  • Parent – Not being potty-trained at the age of 6 because she is so interested in her own poop
  • Teacher– Trying to keep 15 children to keep their hands to themselves, but not on themselves

Professional- Delayed Development

  • Parent –  Celebrating a child’s use of “more” sign language- at the age of 5.
  • Teacher– Having social stories using Clifford the Big Red Dog for 7th graders

Professional-Misunderstood or mysterious

  • Parent –  Having strangers back away and speak to your child in shorter, louder sentences when you tell them she has autism; loving him and you want to understand
  • Teacher – Having other teachers whisper around you- that you’re the “autistic teacher” and refuse to let your kids into their classes; loving him and you want to understand

Professional-Restricted in their interests

  • Parent – Talking about nothing but Legos, even during a funeral
  • Teacher – Talking about nothing but Legos during a fire drill or an assembly

Professional-Difficulty understanding nonverbal communication

  • Parent – Does not look you in the face, blank look when you smile at him
  • Teacher – Not understanding the finger to the lips of the lunchroom assistant and getting in trouble every single day

Professional- Typical physical development

  • Parent – Discovering masturbation as a pleasure-seeking strategy at the age of 12 ; not fitting on the playground equipment or in diapers
  • Teacher – Wanting to play with the little kids when they’re 12

Professional- Unknown in causation

  • Parent – Blaming yourself, your mother-in-law, the tuna you ate during pregnancy, the immunizations you approved; Trying something- anything- diet, vitamins, magnets…. Not knowing if what you’re doing is going to help, but believing that it has to.
  • Teacher–  Having three kids on three different diets;  Not knowing if what you’re doing is going to help, but believing that it has to.

Professional- May requires special education

  • Parent – Please help my child be the very best that they can be; please help them cope with this… Please do everything
  • Teacher–I know a lot of strategies, but I need your help.  I can’t do everything

August 23, 2010

Keep Your Hands to Yourself

Filed under: Autism,Schools — profmother @ 4:32 pm

I meant to blog about other things today, but this news drove it all out of my mind…

Kim Stagliano, mother of a child with autism, who is well-known as an activist, an advocate and a blogger, is working with the school district of Bridgeport, CT to investigate the {alleged} abuse of her daughter with autism, all caught on video, of a paraprofessional pinching her and spraining her fingers.  If this could happen to Kim’s child, it could happen to anyone’s child.

There are several things that I find particularly horrifying about this.  The first is that this woman was hired, paid, given money, to take care of this child.  This child was in her care for her to protect and she abused that trust- that trust that is given to all people to whom we hand over our children.  The video captures the child being placed on the bus, kissing her mother, saying (SAYING!) “Bye, Mom”, and then the parapro moving in.  That poor, poor child- feeling abandoned.   If someone chooses to go into education, there is an implicit understanding that that person cares for children.  Is worthy of trust.

Being a paraprofessional is an incredibly tough job.  They are paid less than store clerks, less than secretaries, and often less than maintenance workers.  They have little to no education.  They are given the most fragile and challenging of children to help, to guide and to monitor.  They have no training for this, and certainly no respect.  But… they chose a job in which children depend on them.  My child.  Perhaps your child.  Whether they’re superintendent or a para, children are depending on them.

The second thing that sends shivers down my back is that I wonder if she thinks she was doing the right thing- if she was “teaching” this child.  Reaching and communicating with a child who is non-verbal is hard- very, very hard.  I wonder if she was trying to “send a message” to this child to stop- stop touching, stop poking, stop… Intentional abuse is frightening. Evil lurks in the world.  But ignorant abuse is even more insidious because the perpetrator doesn’t even know that they’re doing wrong.  You turn your child over, not to a liar, but to someone who thinks they’re doing right.

The third thing that gives me the creeps is that the paraprofessional was captured on tape hurting the child when the para’s mother was driving the bus.  That implies, to me, a very, very wrong relationship between the para and her mother.  I tend to behave better when my mother is around, when my friend is around, when anyone I care about is around.  I’m a much calmer, much more focused parent when I have another grownup there to help, to balance, to watch me on my best behavior.  I never shriek at my children- around other people.  It makes me wonder what the parent/child dynamics are with the para and her mother. It also makes me wonder about the bus driver who is not correcting her own child- adult, true, but still a child.

Which leads to my final thought- that as a parents, ALL parents, we HAVE to teach our children to touch only in love- to keep our hands to ourselves if we are angry.  There have been days when Ray has driven me past my last nerve, that I have had to sit on my hands not to lash out at him.  There have been days where I understand child abuse.   There are days where thoughts like “I brought you into this world and I can take you right back out of it” are in my mind.  But that is where they stay- in my head.  I place the child in a room and I walk away.  I sit on my hands.  I teach with words- or hugs.  The idea of a child, any child, having her fingers hurt and her body pinched out of either evil or misguided teaching, by someone in a position of trust is horrifying.  And for child who cannot even tell of her own hurt- well, that is deeper than words.

I ask that you do two things-

1) Go to Huffington Post and make a comment.  Huff Po operates on a “more is better” philosophy and the more comments a story gets, the more publicity it gets.  This form of abuse has to become public and the outrage has to be out there- or it continues.

2) Send this news link to the Transportation Director of your local school district.  Every Director needs to a) educate their parapros about how to properly communicate with their children and b) consider how they will NEVER allow this to happen in their district.

Because this CANNOT happen to ANY child.  EVER.

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