Just Follow My Directions Next Time

This morning I had a training on Autism at school from 8:30-11:00. The original plan had been that the teachers attending the training would get a half-day sub so that we could do the training, discuss together afterwards, and have time for lunch. But apparently our office manager forgot to put in for the subs. Yet the trainer was still coming, so the office had to scramble around, finding any available certified person to help cover classes. This included our principal and education assisstant.

Now, school ends next Tuesday. We aren't doing a whole lot in class. Kids are working on their "ABCs of Fifth Grade Memories" book, and they are also having fun doing Chinese paper cuts. These two things keep them busy. I also thought that a good activity students could do with the sub was to write letters to next year's fifth graders, telling them what they could look forward to in my class.

I got to school today to find out that both my principal and my education assisstant would be covering my class (the fact that it took two of them to fill my shoes did not go by unnoticed). So I explained to my principal that I had typed up a list of activities that the kids were to work on in the order that they were listed, and that it was already on the document camera, all set up. I knew my kids would be fine. I was happy, actually, to have the head honchos in my class.

So, I sit through my training. There are four labeled autistic kids in third grade, moving to fourth, then fifth, etc. Third grade was exhausted this year. This training was to give us more information and tools to cope. But we've had lectures on autism all ready; what we needed was for people to tell us how to deal with these kids in a room where we have 24-28 other students. The stiff presentation quickly turned to a more informal question and answer format which was more useful. Still, it was apparent to me that the district needs to step up more and provide support. But, it was an ok training.

I returned to my classroom. Mrs. Education Assisstant was in my room. Kids were glad to see, but they had obviously been having a wonderful time with Mrs. Education Assisstant. She looked almost disappointed that her time with my class was done. She told me that she was like the grandparent who comes in and just has fun, and then leaves. Then she said to the kids, "Let's tell Mrs. Teacher what we did with the letters!" Excited murmers break out amongst the kids as she proceeds to tell me that they decided to pretend that there is a secret to being in my classroom, and that if the kids only know the password, they can take part in all kinds of fabulous adventures, like our own swimming pool, trips to China and Australia, a candy store, and more. Kids were so excited! Yes they were! And it totally was not what I wanted them to do!

I'm sorry! I wanted them to write, "Dear Fifth Grade Student, You are so lucky to have Mrs. Teacher for fifth grade this year! We did so many great things, like Chinese papercuts, lots of science projects, and we made our own calendar each month..."

Boring, I know. But that's what I wanted. The truth. A letter that I can lay on each desk in the fall, so that when my new student comes in and finds his or her desk, there is something to do right away. Something that hopefully lets the new student know that it will be a good year. Not make believe. The truth.

Now, I have to do the whole thing again tomorrow. Because Grandma went home, and now Mom is back.