"GET OUT 'CHA HOUSE!"

I know, it's been a long time since I've posted...sorry about that. To sum up the year thus far, my class is awesome. I love 'em. So great.

I am up to 22 kids. I have 20 full time and 2 who join us part time for calendar, math, science, social studies, sight word exploration, and play time. They are both in the deaf and hard of hearing class. It's so awesome to have them in my class. I am loving getting to use my sign language again - I had pretty much forgotten all of it - and my kids are picking up on lots of it as well. It's really awesome.

We went on a great trip to the fire station last week (check out the picture!). It was a fantastic trip. The fireman leading the tour sat my kids down and started talking to them about what to do if there's a fire in your house. "What's the first thing you should do if there's a fire in your house?" he asked.

One of my girls raised her hand, "Get out 'cha house!" she exclaimed.

"Yes!" he said, "So everyone, what's the first thing you should do?"

And the whole class yelled, "GET OUT 'CHA HOUSE!" Oh what good English we have...

He proceeded to be very impressed because, he said, most often, kids don't say this. They usually say, "Call 911" or "stop, drop, and roll." I felt very proud of my smart kiddos.

Later, we got a chance to ask questions, and the fire fighters got a chance to be impressed again. The captain noted, after we finished our questioning, that he'd never seen kids ask such good questions. Typically they just tell you about how their uncle's sister's friend's brother saw a fire once. They did a great job, though. One said, "I wonder what's in a fire extinguisher that puts out a fire, because it's not water." They all looked shocked. Then the captain stepped forward to answer that one. Later, when we were back in the classroom that afternoon, I asked the kids what they learned. He raised his hand and said, "I learned that inside a fire extinguisher is a chemical that takes the oxygen out of a fire."

I'm telling you, my class is SMART.

So at the end of the trip, I asked the fire fighter if he would put on the gear for us. He looked at me all sly and said, "Why don't YOU put on the gear for us?" My face turned a nice deep shade of red, and I started sweating, while trying to explain my germaphobia. He promised that it had just been washed, so they helped me into the gear, all the while sweating and continuing to turn all colors of the rainbow. "I don't have cooties!" he tried to convince me.

"Everyone has cooties when you're germaphobic." I explained. But man, I love 'em, so I put it on, [unwashed] helmet and all.

New Year, New Students, Up and Runnin'!

Well, I had my first full day of school today, and it was fantastic. I love my kids so much. I had such an amazing summer, and it was perfectly-kid-free. I loved getting to travel with B all summer and see him play, and it was the perfect amount of time, because I came back refreshed and ready to go. And good thing, because this class is going to be a handful, and I am PUMPED.

After the first half day, I said to Brenton, I really hope I get a more challenging kid, because right now, uh, I'm, uh..."
"Going to be bored?" he finished.
"Yes."

I need my neglected, behaviorally challenged kids, who look at you like, "And you're telling me what to do why?" when you give them a direction. And today, I got two of them. One, who, as an example, walked down the hallway poking the butt of the child in front of him. "I didn't do nothing!" he said, as he continued to put his hands on the other child. I spent time reading "The Story of Mrs. Flynn" with the two of them during rest time, since I read it with the rest of the class on Monday, and they weren't there yet. They cuddled up, got so excited to see me as a baby, and asked questions and pointed. They were thrilled, and I was in heaven. This is what I live for.

I have a kid this year, that is beyond gifted. He's crazy gifted. And he hasn't been tested yet. But he's quirky, and a very kinesthetic learner. I am so excited about him. I explained that I make my skin with a peachy color crayon. When he started working on his, he picked up the crayon and said, "Mrs. Flynn, this one says apricot. Can I still use it?" This kid is reading the word "apricot." That's not normal.
"Well, aren't apricots sort of a peachy color?" I asked.
"Yes," he agreed, and used it.
On the next day, during one of his perfectionism spurts when he cannot get past something, we were working on drawing our faces. He ended up scribbling all over the face in a fit of frustration, and we worked through the next one together. "Okay," I said, "What does a face need?" And I pointed to his eyes.
"Eyes!" he said.
"And what shape are they?" I asked, all the while, silently begging for his answer to be 'round.'
"Well, they're sort of a deep oval," he said, thoughtfully, while feeling his eyes. After we finally got those drawn, I pointed him towards a nose.
"What shape do you want to make your nose?"
"Nose-shaped," he replied. Duh. I pointed him toward his mouth, to which he picked up the pink crayon and noticed that it didn't just say pink. "Can I make my mouth with carnation pink?" he asked, concerned.
"Well do you think it is your lip color?" I asked.
"I think my lips are carnation pink."

I certainly have my hands full, and I am so excited to see what adventures lie ahead!!! Can't wait for tomorrow. :-)

Field Day Fun

We had field day this week. What fun! Well, here's the thing. I'm sorta competitive when it comes to winning against the other kindergarten classes. I've been talking a big talk this whole year, about us winning, although deep down, I think I've always known that we had no chance this year. You see, last year we got really close, and lost in the end, and I had more testosterone in my class than in a room full of grown men, I'm pretty sure. My boys were psychotic and they were "boys" in every way. When they lost to the girls in one of the games, I had more than one kid, literally, in tears. It was ridiculous. Sportsmanship was not even an afterthought. Well this year, my boys are the gifted/ quirky type. All of them are super smart, love math, building with blocks and legos, and Star Wars. And they are all athletically challenged. I have one boy who is athletic, and he's tiny. So although I've been talking the big talk, well, I was all talk.

The week before, when I picked my kids up from PE after practicing some of the events, I asked them, "Are we going to win?!" Here's what I was told by one of my kids:

"It doesn't matter if we win or lose as long as we have fun."

Yea. Great. Gooood.

During Field Day, here were some of the comments:

Me: "Okay, so here's the game plan for tug of war..." (I was very into it; a parent got me on video and everything...)
A group of students, in response to my game plan: "Look Mrs. Flynn! We're being cats! MEOW!" (while crawling on all fours)

After a game where we were in two teams and everyone either got 1st or 2nd:
"Mrs. Flynn! We got second place!!!!!!!!" (Sincerely thrilled)
"Mrs. Flynn! Now EVERYONE has a ribbon!!!!!"

As I told the other teachers after we lost both of our chances at tug of war, "This year we have the brains, not the muscles."

A few autism stories

I have loved seeing the growth in my child with autism. It speaks wildly of what a general education experience can do for a child, if given the chance. Now, that doesn't mean the chance to be "normal" because there will always need to be accommodations. But with those accommodations, my student will achieve great things. Just Friday, for the first time, after 1 1/2 years with me, he asked for the first time, "Mrs. Flynn, where's Gabe?" "Right there," I said, and pointed. "Oh, Gabe, come play with me." He had gotten out a toy that they had played together the day before, and for the first time ever, he asked a student to engage in play with him. What an amazing accomplishment. These are the boundaries that can be broken. Here are a few other funny stories about him from the last few weeks:

1. S was playing a sentence building game. He put words together to build the sentence,
"The furry donkey jumped over the kangaroo."

Then he dragged me over to see what he made. I read it aloud. Then he thought and sat for a second and said, "SWITCH!" He moved it around so that it said,
"The furry kangaroo jumped over the donkey."
"There." He said.




2. When I tested S on coins, I pointed to the quarter and said, “What’s this?” and he said, “penny.” And I said, “No.” So then he said, “quarter.” I said, “How much is it worth?” And he looked at me for a second, then said, “George.” So I changed my plan. I went and got the names and how much each is worth, and gave them to him to match to the coins, and he did it perfectly! He had all the info in there, including who was on each of the coins, just couldn't get it out! :-)






3. Guns... Recently, he has been obsessed with guns. Here is an example of a self portrait that he completed. (They are supposed to draw and write their favorite thing they did that month.)

Nice, huh?

So, after he continues to "shoot" people and draw people shooting others (and their heads blown off...), I finally sent a note home to his parents, hoping to get some information. We'll call him S for the remainder of this entry.

"S has been making pretend guns, "shooting" classmates, and drawing guns a lot recently. I'm wondering if he watched a movie or something with guns recently. I remind him very firmly "no guns" when he does it, but he seems very fixated on them right now. Thanks for your help in this! - Hilary Flynn"

Here is the note I got back. "Hi Mrs. Flynn: We also noticed this at home recently. We bought S a joybox 2 months ago and the first game on the list is a gun game. He played it from time to time. Some times he pretended to shoot his dad or me, we pretended to fall on the ground. He likes that. Maybe it is not a good game to play with him. He might expect to play this in school with his classmates. We are sorry about this. The good news is that the joybox was broken. We'll pay attention to anything he might access from the web. Thanks a lot!"

Best Part of Kindergarten

I know it's been a really long time since I've posted. I've had so many stories, but I've been SO EXHAUSTED and some were too hard to write. But here's a heartbreaker for you...

Today, my kids wrote their class book about the best part of kindergarten. Each day, I give "my baby" food to bring home, because she used to steal it. So we solved that when I told her that all she has to do is ask. Now, every day, I send her home with food. Below find her favorite part of kindergarten.

"My favorite part of kindergarten was when Mrs. Flynn sends food."

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.

Full Blown Austistic Tantrum

Today, my autistic student had the biggest tantrum I've ever heard or seen. And I've seen some good ones. After being placed in time out for refusing to follow my directions and continuing to yell, he was very angry at me. When I let him up, instead of going back to him center, he fell on the floor, starting screaming at the top of his lungs, in a high pitched squeal, and kicking anything he could reach. Then, he kicked his shin right into a bench in the library area, and screamed even more. My entire class stood in shock, covering their ears, staring. "Stop watching. Cover your ears if you need to, but go back to your centers and ignore him, please." I told them. They tried very hard to follow that direction. Eventually, after having a good scream, and pointing at me and yelling in what appeared to be gibberish, he found a spot to hide for a few minutes, yelled at anyone who came near, then calmed down enough to go back and stand, arms folded across his chest and still "cry-breathing" (as I like to refer to deep, short breaths you get after a good cry) at his center, watching the other students play.

"Mad face," he said later, as he pointed at my teacher look. "Yes," I said. "No more yelling."

I love my job. :-)

Sweet CeCe's Date

So yesterday, I had a date with my buddy from last year. Here's a quick blurb for those of you who don't know him. He came to me in the beginning of kindergarten not knowing a single letter of his name. His behavior can be characterized as extremely defiant. He was aggressive, hateful, and rude, had no language skills (could hardly speak; his older siblings are selective mutes), and let me tell you, I fell in love. He was my baby. He grew so much in my classroom, and I loved the challenges he presented me with, daily. And sometimes I hated him just as much, because he knew how to try my patience and get under my skin, and I learned a lot about teaching and about myself, learning how to not react. Whoo. It was hard. I considered having him in my classroom again this year, and decided I better not, because we learned so much from each other, and love each other, and I didn't want to ruin that with another year. And he is thriving this year. It's so fantastic. I am so thrilled.

So, anyway, when we see each other this year, he smiles (this smile that can melt your heart), and we talk, and he is so sweet. So I asked his mom last week if I could take him for hot chocolate or something after school one day, so that we could catch up and have some time together. She was excited, but he was PUMPED. It's all he would talk about for the last week. "Mrs. Flynn, I never had hot chocolate before. Where do we get it? Is is hot?" etc. etc. etc. Then he was sick on Friday, which was supposed to be our day. So we replanned for Tuesday.

Tuesday, at recess, he was still super excited. "Mrs. Flynn! Come here!" he said as his class lined up. "My mom said we could just go right now." he told me. I somehow convinced him that we were going to wait until after school.

Well, after school came, and he was so freaked out that it was finally there, and we were going to hang out together outside of school, that he refused to speak to me or come near me. Hilarious. He finally warmed up to me, after about 45 minutes. By the time his mom got there, he was starting to talk to me again. (Oh, and we ended up getting Fro-Yo, since the temperature went up significantly this week.)

Today, he brought me flowers. Then, when he saw me at dismissal, he said for the first time this year, "Mrs. Flynn, I love you."

First Full Week Back

Okay, this was the longest week that has ever been. Last week, we had two snow days, and it was our first week back. In December, we only had 2 full weeks, and they were full of holiday activities and special events, so they all flew by. So it really seems like I haven't had a full week of uninterrupted teaching since November. So this week was looooooong. It's felt like Thursday since Monday. And I'm not exaggerating. But thank G-dawg, we made it to Friday, and I am sitting on my couch. Whewww.

My kids were so sweet and I was so excited to be back and see them. I loved the break, but I did miss their sweet faces and their love. It's so cool to see how they've progressed over the break. So many of them came back seeming to be writing and reading even better, which is fantastic. Of course there are also the ones that came back digressed, but to keep moving forward, I have to focus on the positive.

I've started small leveled groups that I meet with daily. I have six groups of 2 to 4 kids, depending on reading level, then I have one kid reading way above everyone else, who doesn't really fit in any of the groups. So seven different lessons for leveled work each day. One of my brighter kids said to his mom, "Mrs. Flynn has grouped us according to our talents." She said, "Oh. I see. How do you know?" He wasn't able to explain how he knew that, he could just tell. "And are you in a talented group?" she asked him. "I don't know." he replied. Hilarious. Smart little cookies.

I'm also trying to start a new program in my classroom over the next couple of weeks. My lowest kids, who clearly just don't get any attention and who don't get read to, are going to be paired with "parent reading buddies" who come once a week for a 1/2 hour, and meet with the same child each time, and just read with them, to give them some positive adult attention and expose them to good English and fluent reading. I'm excited about the opportunity it will give both the parents and the kids.

Anyway, those were the highlights of week one. Should continue to be interesting and exciting, as we get into these critical kindergarten weeks. In the next couple months, several of the kids will be writing and reading pretty fluently, and hopefully some of my struggling ones will start to pick up on some crucial skills to avoid retention.....only time will tell.