Watching him grow!

My little autistic boy has come so far. Now that he's been full time in my classroom since January, he is growing and growing. His language skills are improving to the point where he walked in to the class yesterday morning, and when he got to the sign in table, he said hi to two students, addressing them both by name. Now keep in mind, he was almost non-verbal except when giving verbal choices last year, when he started, part time in my class.

The other day, we were playing a word building game, where students were at a table with a group of letter cards. So if I said the word "mud," a student at the tables with the 'm,' 'u,' and 'd' would come up. He had a vowel for a consonent-vowel-consonent word. (He is great speller.) So when he got up there, he saw that the student who was supposed to be on the end was standing next to the student with the first letter, so he yelled, (calling the student by name), "Move it!" so that he could get into the middle spot. The whole class burst out laughing, including me. He just stood there.

Yesterday, he and I were working together on a book report activity after he listened to a book on CD in the listening center. The book was Diary of a Worm. He had to write the title, circle one of the following "I liked this book a lot. I liked this book a little. I did not like this book," and he had to write his reason. So he was able to tell me "I did not like this book." We needed a reason. Not his strong suit. "Reason?" I said. "Reason." he repeated. So I tried a different route. I opened the book and asked him, "Did you like the worm?" "Yes," he said. "Did you like the spider?" I asked. "No, I did not like the spider," he told me. So he wrote that. That was awesome, that he was able to point out the exact thing that he didn't like!

Well yesterday, he forgot about these new communication techniques, apparently. During book buddies (where a class of 4th graders comes to our class and we read together and do activities together, in groups of two and three students), his book buddy and another student in my class came running up to me, "Mrs. Flynn, Mrs. Flynn, he has a bloody nose!" Sure enough, there was dried blood covering his nose, cheeks, arms, and hands. I almost threw up. "Ehhhh," he said, as I grabbed his nose with a tissue and held it tight. I spend the next 15 minutes more or less giving him a wet wipe bath to get off all the dried blood. It was by far the most disgusting thing I have experienced in quite some time. Well, we stopped the nose bleed, just in time for dismissal.

Luckily, the good stuff is far outweighing the bad with him. He has come so far, and he is simply adorable. At his parent-teacher conference several weeks ago, his dad held back tears, when he heard about how wonderfully he's doing and told me that he is experiencing the same, in his broken English. We are all so proud of him! He will make such a great first grader next year. What a great example of least restrictive environment working perfectly for a precious little boy with autism.

Only good reason to cry...

A couple of days ago, my little student I so lovingly refer to as "pipsqueek" in previous postings came in to my classroom in the morning telling me that his momma was picking him up to go to the dentist. (He usually rides the bus home.) Well, during centers, at about 10:45, I received a call from the office, letting me know that his mom was there to pick him up, and would I please send him down to the office for dismissal. I asked if he was coming back, and they said no. So, I told him to go gather his things because momma was here to get him for the dentist.

Well, when he got back over to me, he was hysterically sobbing. I mean, drooling, nose running, tears streaming, sobbing. I said, "What's wrong?" And he just kept heaving, and couldn't answer. Now, you should know that he does have a language impairment, so often it's hard for him to get out what he's thinking, so he just resorts to crying. "Stop crying and use your words. I can't help you if you just cry. What's wrong?" I said to him, "Are you scared to go to the dentist?" He shook his head no. "Then what's wrong?"

Between sobs, he was able to muster, "I.....[heave]...wanna...[heave]....come...[heave]...back!" While trying not to laugh, I walked him to the office and his mother who stared at me in shock when he walked toward her, still hysterical.

"He's crying because he wants to come back," I relayed.

"Okay, okay, I'll bring you back to school," she assured him.

Well, if any kid is going to cry, that is certainly the best reason I can think of!

Rice Balls and Sushi

Since we are studying community helpers right now, a grandfather came in to talk about his farm. He did a great job, and was super adorable. He started off by talking about favorite foods and where they come from, and where the grocery store gets them, etc. So he asked the kids, "What is your favorite food?" Well, most of my kids just copy each other, but you'll see where my little Asian child chimed in; the answers went something like this:
"Macaroni and cheese!"
"Pizza!"
"Macaroni and cheese!"
"Pizza!"
"Macaroni and cheese!"
"Macaroni and cheese!"
"Pizza!"
"Pizza!"
"Rice balls and sushi!"

How did my mom have me?

It's an innocent question, asked by any typical 5-year-old. They want to know where babies come from, right? Well, here's how it happened in my room.

"Mrs. Flynn! That brown girl just said 'sex!'" my new student yelled at me from across the room.

"First of all, we don't call other students 'that brown girl.' Please use her name. Second of all, stop yelling that across the room, and come to me." So she did.

"She said sex," she said (talking about my very special 7-year-old - my repeater who came in terribly behaved, but has since changed so so so much, and who I have a very special relationship with). Well I looked over at her, and she just looked at me, innocently, but with concern. Knowing that she did something wrong (she desperately wants to please me), but not quite knowing what. So I told her to come over to me, and tried to find out what happened.

"She [another student] just wanted to know how did her mom have her, so I told her from sex."

So that was the point where I had to explain to her that, while I know that she understands, some other kids don't know about that yet, so from now on, if another kid asks, just say that they came form their mommy's tummy. "Okay?"

"Okay." Just another day...

New Student!

I've lost two and gained one now, so I'm at 21. My new student came on Thursday. I met her mom and dad when she came in, during calendar. Cute family. And she's black, but from the neighborhood, not our project, so I'm hoping she might help with my segregation problem... :-)

She sat quietly and shyly for the first few minutes, but warmed up quickly and loudly. She is excited to be in our class. "I'm so happy you're my teacher," she said, as she hugged her arms around my neck after calendar. On our way back from lunch, she started testing boundaries, doing twirls down the hallway. "We walk in the hallway, probably just how you walked in your old school," I told her. She stood straight, hands behind her back, eyes looking forward. I thought so. Then at a later point she said again, "I'm glad you're my teacher." I said, "I'm glad you've joined our class!" Then she continued, "I'm glad you're young. My last teacher was so old and she was this big!" And she reached her arms out on either side of her as far as they could go.

From the mouths of babes.

Racist 5 year olds

Back in December, I ran out of time to share this story. So I will do so now, on my snowy weekend!

My class is segregated. It's been very difficult for me for figure out how to get my girls, specifically, to interact with students of another race. My caucasian girls and Asian girls interact, as they all tend to "count" as white. I think the problem stems from two issues.

1. Many of the black girls knew each other before coming to school, as they all live in the same project. (I even have cousins in my class, but then again, I've never heard the word cousin used so loosely, as I have this year. That one pair is legitimate, though.) Since they all came knowing each other, the white girls then formed their own bond, which they then had trouble letting others into.

2. I have no middle or upperclass black kids in my class this year. I only have middle and upperclass white kids, and black kids from the project. I think having middle class black kids would have helped to bridge that gap or the difference that they feel is between them.

I've been thinking and working on the problem, without much success. It escalated at indoor recess in December. Here's what happened. I watched as my white girls formed a circle and ran around singing and laughing, and then the black girls did the same, in their own space. From across the room, I could see an Asian girl, who is typically a ring leader, being left out of the "white circle." I stood back and watched, to see how the girls would work it out. Then, they started to open the circle to let her in. As they did, a little black girl running around the room grabbed their hands to join in the fun. They froze, stared at her, and one of the little white girls yelled, "NO! You can't play with us. Only people with white skin can play, and your's is brown."

Well, I snapped. I ran over them and got down on my knees next to the girl who said it and we had a stern talk. A very stern one. "You do not EVER tell someone that they cannot play with you," (which I've said 1000 times to them already) "for any reason!"

I went and spoke with my principal about the issue after school because I'll tell you what, I've been really lost about how to proceed and teach these girls about the value of others and the equality of everyone. The realization we came to is that the clash is more about socioeconomic status than it is about race, I just happen to have the problem of having no middle class black kids in my class. We realized that what my white girls feel on the inside is that, "all of them are different. They speak different than me. They play rougher than me. They get in trouble more than me. They say words that I don't know/like/understand." The problem is, as a five-year-old, all they can really identify as the difference is, "they look different than me." Hence, "kids with brown skin can't play with us."

It's been a struggle, but helped open my eyes to what is important to me. Even if your kids grow up, as I think they should, being exposed to differences, and poverty, and outside their comfort zone, exposing them isn't enough. It really has to be part of their lives and the lives of their parents, to accept and love differences. Just going to a school where they see kids who are "different" is a good start, but it needs to be a bigger part of their lives. Parents need to be seen loving kids who are different, serving people who are different, giving to people who are different, and interacting with friends who are different. It's a hard bridge to make, though, because society doesn't really encourage bridging of that gap. I just bought a book on Friday, The Price of Privilege, and I'm excited to get reading. I want to be sure that when I have children, my kids don't think that they are any more deserving of material things (toys, books, good education, house, etc.) or nonmaterial things (love, comfort, safety) than kids who are "different." Actually, what I really hope, is that they don't notice that certain kids are "different" at all, because they'll be so exposed to so many differences, that everyone will be different, which will therefore be the norm.

I understand that it's a hard goal, but I think it's a good one, as B and I start to talk about our family and how we want to go about making one (biological, adoption, fostering - hopefully all!). It's an important goal to me, as I work to show love to each of my All Stars, no matter of their differences. Even when one comes in dirty and reaking of urine each day. And another cannot yet be understood by adults or peers because of poor language skills. And several who have sensory needs and are learning to express feelings through means other than grabbing/ pinching/ punching those around. And another who is so gifted that his behavior and social skills suffer. And another who gets fixated on thoughts for weeks at a time, wanting to learn and know everything about it. And another who throws tantrums and whose main way of communicating is by repeating nouns I've said, but who knows that after he gets in trouble, he wants to see a "happy face" from his teacher. I will love all these kids, blind to their race or socioeconomic status or academic achievement, and hope that I teach the kids in my classroom and one day my own children, to do the same.

NIKE (Long "i" silent "e")

My very bright little Asian boy came up to me on Tuesday to show me his new shoes. "Mrs. Flynn," he said, "Last night, we went to the Nike store." Now, when you read that sentence, recognize that he did not say, "Nike," pronouncing the "e" as we know we are supposed to. No, he knows his long middle vowel, silent e rule, and he followed it to a tee. "Nike?" I said, saying it correctly. "No, Nike," he said again, with a long i, silent e. He told me the entire story of going to the store, picking out the shoes, and wearing them for PE today, and each time he said, "Nike" (long i, silent e), I said it correctly, over whatever else he was saying. And he continued. Hilarious. He would not give in. He knows his rules.