Hi again,
So part of my thoughts in creating this blog is to write about the funny things that happen in my classroom as well as to be of assistance to those who made need help navigating the crazy world of special ed.
One thing I do in my classroom, about once a week, is bring in my Senegal parrot. I have found especially with children who do not wish to speak, they will speak to my parrot, rather than me. It is also a special treat for good behavior. Little did I know how intelligent my little parrot is, and how much my children would enjoy her.
Her name is Mango and I bought her for myself when I graduated with my secondary credential in special education k-12. She was darling and learned quickly, but I didn't think I would get away with bringing her to school. I explained my theory, that kids my want to talk more to an animal who has no judgement, than to an adult. My principal was all for it.
However, Mango had her own games in mind. Daily, our first job in the morning is to read a book and take an accelerated reader test if they are able. However, Fridays are special, because the kids get to read to Mango instead. I have a class veterinarian that gets Mango fresh water, and helps me get her food. Then we paper clip her doors close. While the kids are getting their books and chairs, Mango soaks herself in her fresh water. She rolls in it, and peeps and sings. Then when she notices the kids are getting ready, she waits patiently. As soon as she sees all the children are sitting down, she flaps and squeaks and drenches them all. Then she laughs and preens herself. The kids swear I taught her to do it, but that was all on her own!
Another thing she does is check every door to see if she can get out. She has three small doors and
Monday, April 27, 2015
How my past experiences led me to love teaching special education now.
Hi,
My name is Heather. I have taught special education for the last 12 1/2 years. Before that I taught kindergarten. However, my story is unique and only God could have made this come together as well as it all did.
When I was two I spoke in full sentences, baby sentences I am sure, but my mother says people understood me. Near my home their was a program for deaf toddlers. My mother says that they needed toddlers who could speak to model speech for children who could not yet speak. For instance, I would point to the airplane in the sky, and say "airplane!" The idea was that the children who were deaf would look up and also see the plane and try and say the word. As I was only two I do not know how well it worked. However, it was my first exposure to children who were not the same as me.
When I was five I had a 23 year old neighbor who was intellectually delayed (mentally retarded for those of you who do not know the knew term.) Though he was so much older he was mentally around my same age. We would play hide and seek, he would chase me while I rode my bike. I never really thought of him as different. His sister was my babysitter and he was my friend. I remember crying the night my mother came to me to tell me he had died in a seizure. I was both sad and scared.
You see I was born "normal" however around nine months I caught encephalitis. I was very ill and in a coma for a long while. My mother asked people to come and pray, I believe God saved my life. The only real injury from that I sustained was grand mal seizures. I feared that if my friend could die, so could I. I was also very sad that my friend had died.
At the age of 11 or 12 I met a friend named Kimberly. She had a brother around our age who was Intellectually Delayed. He was always around when Kim and I played. Not knowing any better, thank God, I had no pre-conceived judgements about him. I would talk with him, I realized he didn't always understand me, but I liked his smile and how he always said, "hello" to me and seemed excited to see me. His mother once called my mother to tell her how the only one of Kim's friends that was kind to him was me.
At 15 I had another friend, she had a brother with Down's syndrome. I think he was about 5 when I met him. I loved his personality. We were in the car one day talking, he kept saying, "It's my turn now, my turn to talk." I don't know what he wanted to say, but he definitely wanted some attention and didn't want to be left out. I thought he was darling. He liked to laugh and pull little pranks.
I soon graduated high school and started to work at Safeway. I hated it. I kept looking in the paper for some hope of a different job. I found it. I soon started to work for an after school program where all the children had some type of special need and in severities I had never seen before. I loved every minute of my shift. I believe it really gave me the motivation to go on and get my credentials in special education. However, it was not just that I got it and had to do my job. It became my passion.
What I realize now more than I ever did then was how God was opening the door for me to love, have compassion for and honestly enjoy every child I work with. In the beginning of each year, silly as it sounds, I panic. How can I teach four grades? All the children have different needs, what if I can't do it? Or what if I teach it, but don't do well enough?
Each year God calms me with the verse, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Philippians 4:13.
My name is Heather. I have taught special education for the last 12 1/2 years. Before that I taught kindergarten. However, my story is unique and only God could have made this come together as well as it all did.
When I was two I spoke in full sentences, baby sentences I am sure, but my mother says people understood me. Near my home their was a program for deaf toddlers. My mother says that they needed toddlers who could speak to model speech for children who could not yet speak. For instance, I would point to the airplane in the sky, and say "airplane!" The idea was that the children who were deaf would look up and also see the plane and try and say the word. As I was only two I do not know how well it worked. However, it was my first exposure to children who were not the same as me.
When I was five I had a 23 year old neighbor who was intellectually delayed (mentally retarded for those of you who do not know the knew term.) Though he was so much older he was mentally around my same age. We would play hide and seek, he would chase me while I rode my bike. I never really thought of him as different. His sister was my babysitter and he was my friend. I remember crying the night my mother came to me to tell me he had died in a seizure. I was both sad and scared.
You see I was born "normal" however around nine months I caught encephalitis. I was very ill and in a coma for a long while. My mother asked people to come and pray, I believe God saved my life. The only real injury from that I sustained was grand mal seizures. I feared that if my friend could die, so could I. I was also very sad that my friend had died.
At the age of 11 or 12 I met a friend named Kimberly. She had a brother around our age who was Intellectually Delayed. He was always around when Kim and I played. Not knowing any better, thank God, I had no pre-conceived judgements about him. I would talk with him, I realized he didn't always understand me, but I liked his smile and how he always said, "hello" to me and seemed excited to see me. His mother once called my mother to tell her how the only one of Kim's friends that was kind to him was me.
At 15 I had another friend, she had a brother with Down's syndrome. I think he was about 5 when I met him. I loved his personality. We were in the car one day talking, he kept saying, "It's my turn now, my turn to talk." I don't know what he wanted to say, but he definitely wanted some attention and didn't want to be left out. I thought he was darling. He liked to laugh and pull little pranks.
I soon graduated high school and started to work at Safeway. I hated it. I kept looking in the paper for some hope of a different job. I found it. I soon started to work for an after school program where all the children had some type of special need and in severities I had never seen before. I loved every minute of my shift. I believe it really gave me the motivation to go on and get my credentials in special education. However, it was not just that I got it and had to do my job. It became my passion.
What I realize now more than I ever did then was how God was opening the door for me to love, have compassion for and honestly enjoy every child I work with. In the beginning of each year, silly as it sounds, I panic. How can I teach four grades? All the children have different needs, what if I can't do it? Or what if I teach it, but don't do well enough?
Each year God calms me with the verse, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Philippians 4:13.
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