Well, it’s gonna be 70 degrees today… this has got to be the weirdest, warmest, winter I can recall. Not that I’m complaining, but it’s also very dry. We could use a lot of rain, or even a nice snow to help us catch up.
Today I’m working on writing a report for the first evaluation I’ve done “in the field”. Reports “marry” all the information together that you’ve collected on a kid - information gained through observation, interview, testing, review of school records - and hopefully, help explain why this child may or may not have a learning problem. Unless the school district has a standard report form, every psychologist does a report differently. Some are 20-30 pages long. Some are 2 pages long. Even different professors at school have different ways they want you to do reports. But whatever kind of report you do, the bottom line in any report is, does this kid have a problem, and does this problem affect the kid’s academic efforts.
A bright, engaging student I worked with recently has problems visually processing information. One of the consequences of that is that he’s a poor reader – but I know once we can help his very capable teacher figure out ways to help him adapt, he’ll shine. I thought about what might have happened to this child had he been in elementary school back in the 60’s when I was. Kids then were often labeled everything from lazy to mentally retarded, if not “officially”, then certainly unofficially by classmates. One student in my 3rd grade class was relegated to the back of the classroom by the coat closets for a whole year and socially ostracized because he was unable to read, and thus, unable to perform well in school. We assumed he was “stupid”. I’ve always wondered what happened to him.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Post Flu
I got the flu, I got over the flu, and I’m just now getting around to doing another blog entry- I’m getting gently “nagged” about it from my sis. “I go to your blog EVERY DAY,” she says. Ok, ok. I’m all over it.
I’ve been wrestling with “mysterious” things this week. As you may know if you live in this area, there have been several cases of rather horrific child abuse making the local news recently. This tends to bring about contemplation of God’s sovereignty and how He can allow what happens in the world. There’s another situation I’m aware of in which there is some intense suffering (this is not a child abuse situation) and, the appearance of God’s unwillingness to do anything to relieve it. In yet another situation, also this week I heard of someone whose grandchild died and now, this person has cut off all relationship with a Creator, and won’t allow anything having to do with God spoken of in their home.
I think every person since the dawn of time has struggled at some point with the question of evil and of God allowing it to exist. It’s a mystery, but in our humanness, we want answers. We want to get it figured out. If you’ve always wondered about these things, be cautious of those that would like to enlighten you. Chances are, they don’t know either. They’ve just found something that fits neatly into their framework of thinking and they may become frustrated with you if it doesn’t fit as neatly within yours.
Work is going well. I keep saying that I’m learning a lot, and really, that’s my number one goal in this job. This week I learned that different school buildings have different “personalities”, so to speak, mainly due to the decisions, goals, and even personality types of the top administrators within the building. I learned that not everyone plays by the same rules, and that some either ignore the rules, or invent their own. And the other thing I relearned, even though I’ve already had this lesson several times in my life, is that you learn more by listening than you ever do by talking. Just listen. Observe. Think. Question. Then listen some more.
I’ve been wrestling with “mysterious” things this week. As you may know if you live in this area, there have been several cases of rather horrific child abuse making the local news recently. This tends to bring about contemplation of God’s sovereignty and how He can allow what happens in the world. There’s another situation I’m aware of in which there is some intense suffering (this is not a child abuse situation) and, the appearance of God’s unwillingness to do anything to relieve it. In yet another situation, also this week I heard of someone whose grandchild died and now, this person has cut off all relationship with a Creator, and won’t allow anything having to do with God spoken of in their home.
I think every person since the dawn of time has struggled at some point with the question of evil and of God allowing it to exist. It’s a mystery, but in our humanness, we want answers. We want to get it figured out. If you’ve always wondered about these things, be cautious of those that would like to enlighten you. Chances are, they don’t know either. They’ve just found something that fits neatly into their framework of thinking and they may become frustrated with you if it doesn’t fit as neatly within yours.
Work is going well. I keep saying that I’m learning a lot, and really, that’s my number one goal in this job. This week I learned that different school buildings have different “personalities”, so to speak, mainly due to the decisions, goals, and even personality types of the top administrators within the building. I learned that not everyone plays by the same rules, and that some either ignore the rules, or invent their own. And the other thing I relearned, even though I’ve already had this lesson several times in my life, is that you learn more by listening than you ever do by talking. Just listen. Observe. Think. Question. Then listen some more.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Ta Dah!
I’m back among the living! Did ya miss me? I’ll spare you the gory details, but for the last 4 days I’ve been battling the effects of a stomach virus. I’ll tell ya, there’s nothing like a good old-fashioned stomach flu to help you find your priorities in life. At one point my priorities were focused on a single feat: to lay as perfectly still as I could, without moving not even an eyelid muscle, with the bedspread pulled over my head. I had hoped (in vain) that this meditative posture would help quell the rising tide of…
Well, I digress. After 3 days of water and broth, and one day of the BRAT diet, I am embarking on my first day of “real” food, and will go to work for half a day. (BRAT = bananas, rice, applesauce, and toast. It was great. Thanks for asking.) A complicating factor is getting used to a new regimen of diabetes meds, but I think I will survive that too. Ms. Pancreas should be extra happy. I haven’t really made her work very hard the last 4 days. It doesn’t take much insulin to digest water or broth - admit it, Ms. P!
Candice commented that I shouldn’t spend so much blog time yelling at a body part. She’s right! (If you just ignore the behavior of the alleged body part, it will “extinguish” itself. Whatever works…)
So it’s back to thinking more like a school psychologist and less like a flu victim. On my schedule this week, besides another funeral to attend, is to get some information about a “baffling” student no one can quite get a handle on, a little one on one counseling with a student from a situation you can’t imagine anyone surviving intact from, and some time spent learning to give a test I’ve not given before. Fortunately, my first victim of this new test is a young child – I have discovered they are most forgiving when it comes to working with adults who are unsure of themselves.
It’s good to be up and going today.
Well, I digress. After 3 days of water and broth, and one day of the BRAT diet, I am embarking on my first day of “real” food, and will go to work for half a day. (BRAT = bananas, rice, applesauce, and toast. It was great. Thanks for asking.) A complicating factor is getting used to a new regimen of diabetes meds, but I think I will survive that too. Ms. Pancreas should be extra happy. I haven’t really made her work very hard the last 4 days. It doesn’t take much insulin to digest water or broth - admit it, Ms. P!
Candice commented that I shouldn’t spend so much blog time yelling at a body part. She’s right! (If you just ignore the behavior of the alleged body part, it will “extinguish” itself. Whatever works…)
So it’s back to thinking more like a school psychologist and less like a flu victim. On my schedule this week, besides another funeral to attend, is to get some information about a “baffling” student no one can quite get a handle on, a little one on one counseling with a student from a situation you can’t imagine anyone surviving intact from, and some time spent learning to give a test I’ve not given before. Fortunately, my first victim of this new test is a young child – I have discovered they are most forgiving when it comes to working with adults who are unsure of themselves.
It’s good to be up and going today.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
A Public Apology to Miss Pancreas
Apparently, my pancreas reads my blog. It (she?) became upset about the entry where I expressed my frustration toward her, and, admittedly, I blamed her for not producing enough insulin for me. I believe I called her “lazy” and I did state (not on this blog, but at other times) that she hasn’t known a good day’s work in several years. I also insinuated that she put my metabolism in a wheelchair.
Well, I’m SORRY! SORRY SORRY SORRY! Little Miss Hoity Toity Pancreas informs me that it isn’t HER fault. It’s the cells of my body. She’s producing insulin, (she says, but how can I believe her), but that the cells are not accepting it. They are “resisting”. They are stubborn and rebellious. They are closed-minded and have their gates shut tight. They passed the Patriot Act a long time ago and not only are they keeping out the terrorists, but they are also keeping out the insulin good guys. It’s the cells’ problem, not hers. So, Miss Particular Prissy Pancreas would like an apology.
Well whatever. I still think it may be because she’s not producing a quality insulin. If it were Sterling Silver Grade A Prime Cut Quality Bar None insulin, they’d probably take it. So now we have an internal war - Miss Pancreas says she’s sending the troops, but the troops are unable to penetrate the borders. Great. I gotta make med changes. It is such a serious situation that I’m being told to increase it four fold. So now the reinforcements are coming in. They’re gonna kick down walls, penetrate barriers, storm gates, and open up those bunkers. And this war will never be over! Great!
Well, I’m SORRY! SORRY SORRY SORRY! Little Miss Hoity Toity Pancreas informs me that it isn’t HER fault. It’s the cells of my body. She’s producing insulin, (she says, but how can I believe her), but that the cells are not accepting it. They are “resisting”. They are stubborn and rebellious. They are closed-minded and have their gates shut tight. They passed the Patriot Act a long time ago and not only are they keeping out the terrorists, but they are also keeping out the insulin good guys. It’s the cells’ problem, not hers. So, Miss Particular Prissy Pancreas would like an apology.
Well whatever. I still think it may be because she’s not producing a quality insulin. If it were Sterling Silver Grade A Prime Cut Quality Bar None insulin, they’d probably take it. So now we have an internal war - Miss Pancreas says she’s sending the troops, but the troops are unable to penetrate the borders. Great. I gotta make med changes. It is such a serious situation that I’m being told to increase it four fold. So now the reinforcements are coming in. They’re gonna kick down walls, penetrate barriers, storm gates, and open up those bunkers. And this war will never be over! Great!
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Good Morning
Driving to work is always an exercise in appreciating Kansas sunrises. However, now that the day starts earlier, I can see the fulfillment of what the Painter is creating on His sky canvas And the last few days, the words to a hymn going all the way back to the 18th century come to mind. They are:
“When morning gilds the skies my heart awaking cries:May Jesus Christ be praised! Alike at work and prayer, to Jesus I repair: May Jesus Christ be praised!”
You might think the word “repair” is an odd word to use in the text, but one of the definitions of this word is “to go frequently or habitually”. I like that. But I also like thinking of it in a more modern way-to Jesus I go for repairs! Because, man, do I ever feel broken. And, you notice the hymn writer specifically mentions “at work”. They didn’t have school psychologists in the 18th century. So how did HE know I was going to need to think about this text while driving a machine down a highway at speeds he’d never gone in his life?
He didn’t. But I would imagine upon awakening in the mornings, he might have felt broken too. As he began his chores early in the day, he marveled at the sunrises of the Painter - and more than 200 years later, his words live on. They speak to someone who is experiencing a life he could never in his wildest dreams imagine.
There are 14 verses in all to this hymn. See them at: http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/w/h/e/whenmgts.htm
“When morning gilds the skies my heart awaking cries:May Jesus Christ be praised! Alike at work and prayer, to Jesus I repair: May Jesus Christ be praised!”
You might think the word “repair” is an odd word to use in the text, but one of the definitions of this word is “to go frequently or habitually”. I like that. But I also like thinking of it in a more modern way-to Jesus I go for repairs! Because, man, do I ever feel broken. And, you notice the hymn writer specifically mentions “at work”. They didn’t have school psychologists in the 18th century. So how did HE know I was going to need to think about this text while driving a machine down a highway at speeds he’d never gone in his life?
He didn’t. But I would imagine upon awakening in the mornings, he might have felt broken too. As he began his chores early in the day, he marveled at the sunrises of the Painter - and more than 200 years later, his words live on. They speak to someone who is experiencing a life he could never in his wildest dreams imagine.
There are 14 verses in all to this hymn. See them at: http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/w/h/e/whenmgts.htm
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Trying Times
What day is this? I feel like I’ve neglected this blog for several days now but it was a difficult week. A close family friend went to heaven and her service was last Saturday. It was my honor and privilege to play the piano for the service but a little stressful. There were more than 200 people crammed in our little church sanctuary.
Besides doing the work of a practicum student, I’m trying to clear up two incompletes, or else I won’t graduate in May. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the pants…I am making progress on reports I owe but it feels like a whole mountain of work is ahead of me yet. I have a test for licensing coming up on March 4 and haven’t begun to prepare for it. But what’s happening to me isn’t unusual - it’s just life. Everybody has stuff to take care, to deal with, to worry about.
I observed students of varying degrees of disability last Friday in a special education classroom. There was a student with Downs Syndrome, other students with MR diagnoses, and one student with severe multiple disabilities. I came to the swift conclusion that we do not pay our special ed teachers enough, and, we certainly do not pay the paraprofessionals commensurate with the responsibilities we give them.
I think every politician that talks about education reform should visit schools, and not only visit general education classrooms, but look in on classrooms where students with special needs are being served. I think they’d be amazed at the work that goes on in our schools.
Besides doing the work of a practicum student, I’m trying to clear up two incompletes, or else I won’t graduate in May. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the pants…I am making progress on reports I owe but it feels like a whole mountain of work is ahead of me yet. I have a test for licensing coming up on March 4 and haven’t begun to prepare for it. But what’s happening to me isn’t unusual - it’s just life. Everybody has stuff to take care, to deal with, to worry about.
I observed students of varying degrees of disability last Friday in a special education classroom. There was a student with Downs Syndrome, other students with MR diagnoses, and one student with severe multiple disabilities. I came to the swift conclusion that we do not pay our special ed teachers enough, and, we certainly do not pay the paraprofessionals commensurate with the responsibilities we give them.
I think every politician that talks about education reform should visit schools, and not only visit general education classrooms, but look in on classrooms where students with special needs are being served. I think they’d be amazed at the work that goes on in our schools.
Monday, February 06, 2006
Problems Everywhere
Problems Everywhere
I work in a small town, in a small school system. It seems that everyone in the office has grown up there, lived there many years, and knows everyone and everyone’s business. Even those that commute to work in the office and don’t live in that town know a lot of information about the residents and the political workings. I’m a real outsider, going there during the day to learn job skills which I hope will transfer to any school system I choose to work in when I do so for “real”.
I’m not naïve, but what I’m a little surprised at is that the children who live in this area have many of the same catastrophic problems that kids in large cities do. I knew I wasn’t going to experience a “Mayberry” culture but I truly wasn’t expecting to come across so many kids who have been exposed to horrific acts of violence. An eight year old girl, cute as a button, with freckles and an easy smile told me about her aunt’s boyfriend. “He shot her in cold blood” was her assessment of the situation. I’ve also learned of a couple of students who have witnessed parental suicides and others who have been the collateral victims of their parent’s domestic assaults. And because this is a rural area, the production of meth is a big problem. There are several children who have been exposed to this hallucinogen, compromising academic potential. Poverty is an issue there as well, with some single parents not making enough money to pay the rent.
It was said to me this week, “If I hear one more time about how we are doing this all for the kids, I won’t be able to stand it.” Maybe I’m truly naïve, but I thought that’s what I was doing this for. It sure isn’t for the paycheck, the prestige, or the Hollywood acclaim.
No matter where you live or work, there’s always a need for someone to be an advocate for children. Someone who can help give them the best chance they’re going to get in life to make it in this world. You don’t have to be a school psychologist to do that. You just need to be a concerned citizen with a 30 minute time frame during the day to volunteer at a school. Once a week. The same amount of time it takes to watch one rerun of “Everybody Loves Raymond.” And immensely more productive.
I work in a small town, in a small school system. It seems that everyone in the office has grown up there, lived there many years, and knows everyone and everyone’s business. Even those that commute to work in the office and don’t live in that town know a lot of information about the residents and the political workings. I’m a real outsider, going there during the day to learn job skills which I hope will transfer to any school system I choose to work in when I do so for “real”.
I’m not naïve, but what I’m a little surprised at is that the children who live in this area have many of the same catastrophic problems that kids in large cities do. I knew I wasn’t going to experience a “Mayberry” culture but I truly wasn’t expecting to come across so many kids who have been exposed to horrific acts of violence. An eight year old girl, cute as a button, with freckles and an easy smile told me about her aunt’s boyfriend. “He shot her in cold blood” was her assessment of the situation. I’ve also learned of a couple of students who have witnessed parental suicides and others who have been the collateral victims of their parent’s domestic assaults. And because this is a rural area, the production of meth is a big problem. There are several children who have been exposed to this hallucinogen, compromising academic potential. Poverty is an issue there as well, with some single parents not making enough money to pay the rent.
It was said to me this week, “If I hear one more time about how we are doing this all for the kids, I won’t be able to stand it.” Maybe I’m truly naïve, but I thought that’s what I was doing this for. It sure isn’t for the paycheck, the prestige, or the Hollywood acclaim.
No matter where you live or work, there’s always a need for someone to be an advocate for children. Someone who can help give them the best chance they’re going to get in life to make it in this world. You don’t have to be a school psychologist to do that. You just need to be a concerned citizen with a 30 minute time frame during the day to volunteer at a school. Once a week. The same amount of time it takes to watch one rerun of “Everybody Loves Raymond.” And immensely more productive.
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