Trying to help

Today one of the teacher aides brought one of my elementary school counseling students to me, saying the student was upset. He certainly looked upset. He sat at the table in the school psych office, not talking, his head in his hands. I asked if he was angry or sad. “Both,” he said emphatically. He was quiet for a few minutes, but after I asked him a few more questions it finally came out: the problem was HOMEWORK (“I have so much to do, and I don’t know how to do any of it!”). I was relieved – homework is one problem I definitely have the skills to help with! He seemed very organized and took out each assignment (one for English, one for math, one for social studies). The social studies one was very short, and he was able to do it right away. When he reread the directions for math, he realized that because he’s a resource room student, he only had one page to do (with only three questions), not two, and he looked visibly relieved. Then it was dismissal time and his bus arrived, so he had to leave. He said after he comes in to homeroom in the mornings he goes to the resource room if he has any questions about his homework, so I reminded him he should do that tomorrow if he had trouble finishing the math and English at home tonight. I was glad I could help, and VERY glad I’m interning in a school district that offers so much support for special education students. Even knowing he has the terrific resource room teacher to help him, he still had an overwhelmed, panicky moment – imagine if he were a student at the bad charter school where I taught for a year. That was such a depressing job because there was just not nearly enough support for kids who needed extra help. We were supposed to do “team teaching” and were not supposed to pull kids out of the regular class – the “push-in” model. But I’m sorry, when you have an 11-year-old kid who’s reading at a third grade level, so amount of “pushing in” is going to be enough to help him access material written at the sixth grade level. A kid like that needs major curriculum and homework modifications and adaptations (along with direct instruction in reading, of course). At this school we have teacher aides, multiple remedial reading and remedial math teachers, multiple staff members in general that we just didn’t have at that charter school. It frustrates me that every kid in the country doesn’t have access to all these extremely helpful services. I really appreciate interning in a good school where every day I see an excellent model of how things are SUPPOSED to work.

Two days ago I was scrolling through my daily Indeed.com e-mail that alerts me to school psychologist job openings when I stopped cold: there was an ad for a school psychologist needed at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut (“start date negotiable”). Mary Sherlach was the school psychologist who died in the massacre there on Dec. 14, 2012. I remember on the day it happened, I went to B.’s after work and we quietly watched CNN together. As soon as the CNN reporter started talking about Mary Sherlach, I said, “Wait – the school psychologist died??” B. looked down and admitted, “I didn’t want to tell you.” I was actually going to apply, but that night I had bad dreams – nothing graphic, nothing I can even remember, but I woke up with a distinct sense of uneasiness and fear. They definitely need a school psychologist with far more experience than I have, anyway. My only recent traumatic experience was this morning when Izzie (www.DemonKittyDoesGood.org) jumped off the windowsill onto my face. Now I have a scratch on my nose.

Tonight I’m going to a reading in Albany by Ann Hood (http://www.annhood.us/ ), one of my favorite fiction writers! *Excited*

I want to be a school psychologist!

My first blog post in a year and 5 months! What’s “gnu”? Well, I’m now more than halfway through my year-long school psychology internship in the Albany, NY area, and am already starting to apply for school psychologist jobs for this fall. I think I’ll really like being a school psychologist – I only wish I’d realized it ten years ago! Oh well – better late than never. Where am I applying for jobs? I’m hoping to stay here in the northeast (preferably near a Metro-North or NJ Transit train station so I can easily visit my beloved New York City), but this is where jobs are tightest. So far I’ve gotten two calls: one from a placement agency that’s looking for leave replacements right now but said to contact them again in June; and one from a school district in Wilmington, Delaware that needed someone immediately. It’s reassuring that at least my resume is getting read. Many of these jobs ads ask for two or even three letters of recommendation, which I dread asking for, but I e-mailed one of my professors last night to ask if she would write one for me. I haven’t heard back yet. I think letters of recommendation are kind of dumb – asking someone who you’re 99% sure will write nice things about you to write nice things about you.

Today I got out the Woodcock-Johnson cognitive assessment at my school for the first time, opened the book – and realized it was AUTOGRAPHED. Yes! My former supervisor apparently had gotten WOODCOCK HIMSELF to autograph our copy of the test! I love it! :)

I was on hold for it at the library for months, but Andrew Solomon’s new book, “Far From the Tree,” finally came in for me (here’s a review: http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/25/books/review/far-from-the-tree-by-andrew-solomon.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0). He spent years interviewing parents about what it’s like to raise children with significant differences -- everything from severe and profound disabilities, to Down Syndrome, to dwarfism, to prodigies, to criminals (he extensively interviewed the parents of Dylan Klebold, one of the Columbine killers). It’s FASCINATING. Which is why I stayed up until 1:30 AM last night (this morning) reading it.  I can’t help it if it’s that good!

I am typing this as my cat (she blogs at www.DemonKittyDoesGood.org , by the way) sleeps all comfy on my lap. Purr. <3 o:p="">

4 poems I wrote in the 6 months after Sept. 11, 2001

1) untitled

I didn’t dream for days
for weeks
the smoke drifted to my neighborhood
and I awoke thinking
my apartment was on fire
they said on the news
you can see it all the way from the moon
one of my first grade students announced
another drew the towers falling
drew his own home standing tall
my building is strong
he said
very strong
looking into my eyes
to make sure I believed
he was safe.

2) New York City, December 2001

It doesn’t feel like winter,
that’s the strange thing.
People peering at Christmas windows,
ice skating at Rockefeller Center,
walking through Central Park
have not even zipped their jackets,
don’t bother with gloves or scarves.
Flags wave across the city in a spring-like breeze.
Outside a firehouse, amidst the flowers and cards,
a red white and blue pumpkin still grins.
Emptying a drop box, the mailman
wearing short sleeves,
wearing plastic gloves,
turns his face to the sun.
Perhaps this year
winter has put itself on hold,
given us a reprieve
from the sleet and the snow,
the wind that slices through your skin
until you can’t stop shivering.
We already can’t stop,
we’ve been shaking for months,
eyeing every plane overhead,
waking in the middle of the night,
dreaming of bombs, of fire,
drinking more, taking more tranquilizers,
having more sex,
donating more money,
giving more time,
looking, really looking, into one another’s eyes.

3) Volunteering After September 11 (in early 2002)

I am hunched over a file cabinet,
checking lump sum payments to displaced residents.
Two employees behind me are laughing
about someone they both know.
“She’s gonna have some ugly-ass kids if she stays with him,”
one says.
“Ohhhhhh,” says the other, half-disapproving, half-giggling.
“Their kid’s gonna be so ugly, they’ll take him away,
put him in the Bronx Zoo.”
“Shut up!” her friend laughs.
The room smells like winter coats.
I am handling copies of leases,
unpaid bills, invoices
for apartment cleaning,
for valuables that have yet to be replaced.
“You better watch out or your kid’s gonna turn out ugly!”
“I don’t care,” she says, “as long as he can fight.”
The beautiful ceilings are so high.
Voices carry up, up, up.
All I can do is listen.
When the first woman walks away,
the second one murmurs,
“God’s gonna punish her.”
Then, more clearly,
“God is going to punish her,”
her voice low, and ominous.

4) Towers of Light (March 2002)

Standing at the edge
of Washington Square
staring
mothers stop, their babies in strollers,
wide-eyed
Lights even taller than the towers once were,
curve into the night sky,
a ghostly half-rainbow at the top
A helicopter flies through one
I hold my breath, but
nothing is left for it to hit

It doesn’t feel like half a year
more like two months, maybe three
and this is what I think about:
war in Afghanistan
the hungry and the weary
the job that I lost
blood, bones,
fire and smoke
last phone calls home
hands outstretched
the things we do for love,
or the promise of it.

ANOTHER principal fired

OMG. I just read on the Inside Schools web site that not only is that crazy charter school where I taught last year definitely closing for good as of June 30, 2011, but the new principal, who hadn't even been on the job for a whole school year, was "terminated for cause" in February!  Geez. That place just cannot hang on to a principal, can it?  No wonder it's closing.

an original 3-sentence play (in honor of tax day)

Bob: "It's too bad you can't claim your cat on your taxes."

Me: "I know! I wish I could claim her as a dependent."

Bob: "Dependent? I was thinking more along the lines of a hardship."

Poor Izzie! ;)

Shuttin' it down

Guess what? The city Department of Education is recommending that the terrible school where I taught last year should be closed at the end of this school year! I was shocked, only because the city rarely moves to close charter schools. But almost 80% of the teachers and 25% of the students who were there last year have left, and the test scores were terrible -- only 30% of the students actually passed the state math and reading exams last year. Of course, the rich founder of the school and her lawyers were quoted as saying things like, "The school is still new -- we've only been around for five years -- we just need more time!" More time to steal valuable learning time from kids' lives? I don't think so!

Autumn approaches

Ahhh, what a relaxing summer (at least after the statistics course I was taking mercifully finished on July 15th -- I passed!). The first day of school for kids around here is this Tuesday or Wednesday for most schools, and I'm so relieved not to have to worry about it. As my sister said, "Just think, the next time you're preparing for the first day of school, it will be as the school psychologist!" Yep, I started my graduate school courses in school psychology last week! One week down, 155 to go. But who's counting? ;)

In my old school's typical lack of attention to detail, my old work e-mail account was never shut down. I've been logging in from time to time over the summer just to see if anything interesting is going on. That's how I found out my supervisor (the special ed director) quit. My co-workers and I had a feeling in the spring that she was interviewing for another job. She kept being out for part of the day at very specific times, and once she couldn't even go with me to a professional development workshop we had signed up for. Now that she's left, they've literally had a complete turnover of all administrators since last year's first day of school: the principal, both the middle school and lower school vice principals, the special ed director, and the person who was the equivalent of the dean are all gone.

A few minutes ago I logged in for the first time in a few weeks, and found these reactions to the new schedule which was just shared with teachers a few days ago:

"It is difficult to integrate English/history with the arts every single week. It should be less frequently and for a single period instead of a double period.
We have been told for the last two weeks to write 45-minute lessons. Now our schedules are double-blocks every day. We were also never told about the constant integration periods we would need to plan for.
Some teachers have class all day without prep time.
It is completely unnecessary to have 80-minute blocks with each class almost every day.
160 - 240 minutes straight through makes us ineffective teachers. Students are completely unable to sit through 160 minutes of intense instruction in core classes.
Each core class should have single periods every day with only one double period a week.
I am double-booked with two classes for the same period on Thursdays.
This schedule is a complete disaster for all. We need to completely re-work it."

Yikes! I cannot imagine having the same sixth, seventh, or eighth grade class for 240 minutes straight. That's four hours! I wouldn't have liked that as a student, let alone as a middle school teacher.

Is it bad to admit that after reading all those comments, I promptly sprang up and did the dance of joy because I DON'T HAVE TO DEAL WITH ANY OF IT!?!? ;)