Special Ed Teacher: Are we looking disheveled on purpose today?
*Long pause*
Me: Um, what do you mean?
SPED Teacher: What's your costume supposed to be?
Me: I'm not in a costume...are you saying I look disheveled?
*Long, very awkward silence*
SPED Teacher: You just um, look, well, um, different.
Me: I got my haircut. I guess this means it looks horrible. Thanks.
Happy Halloween to me.
*UPDATE*
This has since caused several teachers who overheard the comment to come in and look at me, to see if I do in fact look disheveled (they claim I don't, but the ego is still bruised). Ouch.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
ASDs
From the day I started my internship, I began collecting several delightful stories to share involving one of my favorite students who has autism. I've been postponing sharing said stories as I don't know if those who read this blog know much about Autism Spectrum Disorders (ASDs). If you don't, the stories are hard to appreciate, and if you do, I'd never want to offend by sounding patronizing. So - here are a few things to know about ASDs:
1. The most noticeable characteristic of ASDs is an impairment in social interaction. People with ASDs may avoid contact, have trouble initiating conversations with peers (children on the spectrum often prefer adult interactions), may have difficulty recognizing facial cues, and struggle with empathy (see for more info on Autism, Empathy, & Theory of Mind).
2. Repetitive movements such as hand-flapping, rocking, head-banging, etc. are common.
3. Individuals with ASDs often have an intense area of interest, and may perseverate on the topic. Examples of such topics include: trains, computers, dinosaurs, video games, etc. It may be hard to redirect them when fixated on the area of interest. This intense preoccupation can cause the individual difficulties with social situations, but may also lead the person to become an expert in their field.
4. Though this last characteristic has been heavily debated, language can, but doesn't have to be, affected. Many people with ASDs have a language delay during early childhood, and may have a formal way of speaking; others are completely non-verbal.
With all of these characteristics considered, it's important to remember that ASDs do indeed fall on a spectrum, so some individuals may display extreme variations of the aforementioned tendencies, while others may display mild versions of the characteristics.
I know a lot about ASDs not just from studying special education and school psychology, but because I've grown up with a brother who falls on the spectrum. He has Asperger's Syndrome, and is the primary reason that I found the field I did. He's incredibly intelligent, but has struggled academically and socially his whole life.
Growing up with a brother on the spectrum wasn't easy. His black and white thinking and volatile reactions to less than frustrating situations was tough. Despite that, I love that kid with all my heart and am his biggest defender. When he got made fun of in second grade by a well-known bully, I found the bully at recess, pulled him off the ground by his hair, and called him a bastard. I had NO idea what that word meant, but I knew it wasn't nice, and I knew that he deserved it.
Anyway, as a result of my life experience, I've found myself working in special education and adore the kids who remind me of my brother - those who have ASDs.
The whole reason I began this post was to share two of my delightful stories from internship that I've been itching to tell. So, I'll get to it. The student these stories come from is 14, has high-functioning Autism, a very formal way of talking, and an overall adorableness about him that is difficult to describe. He has trouble eating lunch in the cafeteria, as he has a lot of social anxiety and the noise level can be a bit overwhelming. In order to encourage him to eat lunch, we developed a contract that allows him to earn time to play (rather teach me how to play) chess. He's one of the coolest kids I know, but his peers would tell you differently. We'll call him Wyatt.
*Story One* When I first discovered that Wyatt was not eating lunch in the cafeteria, I went with him one day to see if I could determine what was causing him to avoid the lunch room. While we were standing in the very crowded and loud line (we have 2500 students at our school, and only two lunch periods), Wyatt asked if I could hold his tray. When I took it from him, I noticed that he needed his hands free in order hold up his pants. They were very loose, and fell far below his waist without free hands to hold them. As soon as lunch was over, I took him down to our SRO's office (campus security) who always have spare belts for the many gang bangers in our school. When I brought in Wyatt, one of the officers asked him how his pants had gotten so big. Wyatt's response: "Well you see, I used to be rather husky. But recently, I have lost a lot of diameter."
It was hard not to laugh out loud at his response. But I assure you, when asked about future weight gain or loss, I'll be sure to refer to it as diameter : )
*Story Two* This one is short and sweet. This morning, while walking with Wyatt in the hall, he shared with me his concern that he and his 10-year-old brother always fight. He said: "My brother and I fight a lot. The reason is still a bit unclear. I think it's because he's rather uncivilized. For instance, sometimes he farts and then yells 'FIRE IN THE HOLE!' He thinks it's funny but it's not. On the occasion that he says, 'excuse me,' I say, 'Welcome to the civilized world.'"
You can tell my time with him is always entertaining. Such a great kid. I just wish the rest of his peer group could see it. :\ Now that you know a little bit about ASDs, spread the word. I'm willing to bet that everyone knows someone who directly or indirectly struggles with this disorder. Actually, I don't have to bet...you know me. :)
1. The most noticeable characteristic of ASDs is an impairment in social interaction. People with ASDs may avoid contact, have trouble initiating conversations with peers (children on the spectrum often prefer adult interactions), may have difficulty recognizing facial cues, and struggle with empathy (see for more info on Autism, Empathy, & Theory of Mind).
2. Repetitive movements such as hand-flapping, rocking, head-banging, etc. are common.
3. Individuals with ASDs often have an intense area of interest, and may perseverate on the topic. Examples of such topics include: trains, computers, dinosaurs, video games, etc. It may be hard to redirect them when fixated on the area of interest. This intense preoccupation can cause the individual difficulties with social situations, but may also lead the person to become an expert in their field.
4. Though this last characteristic has been heavily debated, language can, but doesn't have to be, affected. Many people with ASDs have a language delay during early childhood, and may have a formal way of speaking; others are completely non-verbal.
With all of these characteristics considered, it's important to remember that ASDs do indeed fall on a spectrum, so some individuals may display extreme variations of the aforementioned tendencies, while others may display mild versions of the characteristics.
I know a lot about ASDs not just from studying special education and school psychology, but because I've grown up with a brother who falls on the spectrum. He has Asperger's Syndrome, and is the primary reason that I found the field I did. He's incredibly intelligent, but has struggled academically and socially his whole life.
Growing up with a brother on the spectrum wasn't easy. His black and white thinking and volatile reactions to less than frustrating situations was tough. Despite that, I love that kid with all my heart and am his biggest defender. When he got made fun of in second grade by a well-known bully, I found the bully at recess, pulled him off the ground by his hair, and called him a bastard. I had NO idea what that word meant, but I knew it wasn't nice, and I knew that he deserved it.
Anyway, as a result of my life experience, I've found myself working in special education and adore the kids who remind me of my brother - those who have ASDs.
The whole reason I began this post was to share two of my delightful stories from internship that I've been itching to tell. So, I'll get to it. The student these stories come from is 14, has high-functioning Autism, a very formal way of talking, and an overall adorableness about him that is difficult to describe. He has trouble eating lunch in the cafeteria, as he has a lot of social anxiety and the noise level can be a bit overwhelming. In order to encourage him to eat lunch, we developed a contract that allows him to earn time to play (rather teach me how to play) chess. He's one of the coolest kids I know, but his peers would tell you differently. We'll call him Wyatt.
*Story One* When I first discovered that Wyatt was not eating lunch in the cafeteria, I went with him one day to see if I could determine what was causing him to avoid the lunch room. While we were standing in the very crowded and loud line (we have 2500 students at our school, and only two lunch periods), Wyatt asked if I could hold his tray. When I took it from him, I noticed that he needed his hands free in order hold up his pants. They were very loose, and fell far below his waist without free hands to hold them. As soon as lunch was over, I took him down to our SRO's office (campus security) who always have spare belts for the many gang bangers in our school. When I brought in Wyatt, one of the officers asked him how his pants had gotten so big. Wyatt's response: "Well you see, I used to be rather husky. But recently, I have lost a lot of diameter."
It was hard not to laugh out loud at his response. But I assure you, when asked about future weight gain or loss, I'll be sure to refer to it as diameter : )
*Story Two* This one is short and sweet. This morning, while walking with Wyatt in the hall, he shared with me his concern that he and his 10-year-old brother always fight. He said: "My brother and I fight a lot. The reason is still a bit unclear. I think it's because he's rather uncivilized. For instance, sometimes he farts and then yells 'FIRE IN THE HOLE!' He thinks it's funny but it's not. On the occasion that he says, 'excuse me,' I say, 'Welcome to the civilized world.'"
You can tell my time with him is always entertaining. Such a great kid. I just wish the rest of his peer group could see it. :\ Now that you know a little bit about ASDs, spread the word. I'm willing to bet that everyone knows someone who directly or indirectly struggles with this disorder. Actually, I don't have to bet...you know me. :)
Monday, August 22, 2011
And so it begins...
After three LONG years of grueling coursework and several moments (days? months? ...years?) of wondering if grad school was worth it, I can officially say I’m working as a school psychologist. Ok, ok, so I’m not actually a school psychologist yet. I’m an intern. I owe one more year of school before I can call myself anything “officially”, but can you blame me for getting ahead of myself? It’s been a long time coming. Anyway, I started said internship on August 2nd at a high school in Colorado. Everyday I come home with another exciting/depressing/motivating story that I feel interweb-worthy, but everyday I am so utterly exhausted that formulating sentences to speak (much less write) sounds terrible. Instead, I turn on Criminal Minds, pour myself a glass of wine, and promise I’ll start a blog tomorrow.
I am really no more inclined to start that blog now, but know that if one of those “tomorrows” doesn’t become “today” these thoughts will all vanish into my memory and never be told. Personally, I find my job fascinating (the kids, their stories, and their resiliency) and would prefer that I share what I learn as I learn it, more for personal record than for anything else.
Since the list of stories I've wanted to remember is quickly growing, I'll just list a few of the events of my internship that have affected me most (thus far).
- Pointless Power Struggles. When a kid is on food stamps, I don’t think his primary concern should be buying a specific type of cereal so he can make a project for class with its box. I’d be more understanding if the teacher didn’t scream at him for it. When he skips your class from here on out, let’s not pretend to be surprised.
- Gang Violence. This weekend one student shot another student and nicked his femoral artery. He nearly bled out, but survived. Though my experiences with gang violence are growing (27 weeks in violence-afflicted schools = 3 kids in the hospital), it still breaks my heart and is one of the most foreboding things about working with the population I do. Not a single kid I’ve talked to wants to stay in their gang, but there’s no way out unless you move to another state. Little kids are handed deadly weapons and expected to play with the big boys. They have no idea what they’re doing. It needs to stop.
- Seizure disorders that lead to Traumatic Brain Injuries (TBIs). I can’t express this one in words. But to look into the eyes of a boy who was bright, motivated, and going places one year ago, and now see a young man who can’t even speak is one of the most heart-wrenching things I’ve done. He remembers who he used to be, and what he used to be capable of, but after multiple seizures a day and a resulting TBI, this kiddo has had to change his view of what the future holds.
- Parental abuse that leads to TBIs. This one speaks for itself. And makes you think Dexter chose the wrong profession.
- Starfish parable. While these stories can certainly hit a nerve, I rarely cry at work (I’d say never, but I also don’t want to rule anything out. There’s the distinct possibility that it could happen). That being said, we’re human after all, and humans with the capacity to love are humans with the capacity to hurt. Sometimes these stories can become too much, and the feeling that there are too many kids with too many needs and there’s no way to help them all can become overwhelming and make you want to run. My supervisor shared this with me last week, and it’s a parable every school psychologist, every social worker, and every person who’s ever helped anyone should know:
One day an old man was walking along the beach. It was low tide, and the sand was littered with thousands of stranded starfish that the water had carried in and then left behind.
Soon, the man came upon a small child on the beach who was frantically throwing one starfish after another back into the sea. The old man stopped and asked the child, "What are you doing?"
"I'm saving the starfish," the child replied.
"Why waste your time?... There are so many you can't save them all so why does it matter?", asked the man.
Without hesitation, the child picked up another starfish and tossed the starfish back into the water... "It matters to this one," the child said.
I am really no more inclined to start that blog now, but know that if one of those “tomorrows” doesn’t become “today” these thoughts will all vanish into my memory and never be told. Personally, I find my job fascinating (the kids, their stories, and their resiliency) and would prefer that I share what I learn as I learn it, more for personal record than for anything else.
Since the list of stories I've wanted to remember is quickly growing, I'll just list a few of the events of my internship that have affected me most (thus far).
- Pointless Power Struggles. When a kid is on food stamps, I don’t think his primary concern should be buying a specific type of cereal so he can make a project for class with its box. I’d be more understanding if the teacher didn’t scream at him for it. When he skips your class from here on out, let’s not pretend to be surprised.
- Gang Violence. This weekend one student shot another student and nicked his femoral artery. He nearly bled out, but survived. Though my experiences with gang violence are growing (27 weeks in violence-afflicted schools = 3 kids in the hospital), it still breaks my heart and is one of the most foreboding things about working with the population I do. Not a single kid I’ve talked to wants to stay in their gang, but there’s no way out unless you move to another state. Little kids are handed deadly weapons and expected to play with the big boys. They have no idea what they’re doing. It needs to stop.
- Seizure disorders that lead to Traumatic Brain Injuries (TBIs). I can’t express this one in words. But to look into the eyes of a boy who was bright, motivated, and going places one year ago, and now see a young man who can’t even speak is one of the most heart-wrenching things I’ve done. He remembers who he used to be, and what he used to be capable of, but after multiple seizures a day and a resulting TBI, this kiddo has had to change his view of what the future holds.
- Parental abuse that leads to TBIs. This one speaks for itself. And makes you think Dexter chose the wrong profession.
- Starfish parable. While these stories can certainly hit a nerve, I rarely cry at work (I’d say never, but I also don’t want to rule anything out. There’s the distinct possibility that it could happen). That being said, we’re human after all, and humans with the capacity to love are humans with the capacity to hurt. Sometimes these stories can become too much, and the feeling that there are too many kids with too many needs and there’s no way to help them all can become overwhelming and make you want to run. My supervisor shared this with me last week, and it’s a parable every school psychologist, every social worker, and every person who’s ever helped anyone should know:
One day an old man was walking along the beach. It was low tide, and the sand was littered with thousands of stranded starfish that the water had carried in and then left behind.
Soon, the man came upon a small child on the beach who was frantically throwing one starfish after another back into the sea. The old man stopped and asked the child, "What are you doing?"
"I'm saving the starfish," the child replied.
"Why waste your time?... There are so many you can't save them all so why does it matter?", asked the man.
Without hesitation, the child picked up another starfish and tossed the starfish back into the water... "It matters to this one," the child said.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)