4th Grade Reflection#202789

Fourth Grade Reflections Neema Gaisi Spring 2009

March 23, 2009 This is the day for me to start my second placement. I am going into the fourth grade class. I had introduced myself to Ms. T the previous week where she informed me that, “This is a whole different experience than where you are now. It’s a tough class.” One thing that proved to me how different or rather how odd this class really is, was how “normal” it was to have a student sitting facing the wall. He was the same boy whose back I had seen practically every time I walked to the staff lounge. On my first day, R varied his position from sitting up to tinker with his belongings, placing his head on the desk and sleeping parts of the day away, or turning his body to place his forehead on the wall. You had to pass him when entering or leaving the classroom, so he you couldn’t miss him, yet he remained invisible, tucked away from the rest of class during instruction time. Everyone carried on, people walked in, students engaged in discussion, worked their math problems on the board, and no one bothered to remember R. Life buzzed around him as he slept most of it away. During prep, Ms. T went on to inform me that since kindergarten, the school has tried to place him in an appropriate facility, but the mother who is “mental” refuses to sign. He went to a psych ward in January for three weeks, “tore up the place”, and was returned to her class. He was drawn pictures of him shooting her and others, has brought in scissors in the past, and would climb on the desks. He was placed in her class because she is a tough teacher. That she certainly is. I had heard of breaking in pair of new shoes, or people breaking in a wild horse, but for the first time today, Ms. T explains how she breaks in her students her way. I understand that setting rules and being firm are necessary for a class to have a sense of order, but I was taken aback by how she verbalizes doing so. For the remainder of the day, I took notes of the other students to familiarize myself with their names. I sketched the layout of the classroom, which appeared gloomier than my

last class. I wrote down their schedule, did a social studies lesson with them, and helped one student during recess with his math (adding fractions with uncommon denominators). Throughout the entire day, I had R on my mind. I woke him up for lunch, watched him get his coat, and observed him as we walked down to recess. He was sedated, calm, and walked in the line. What is going on in his head, what is he thinking, what is he feeling? I know that I couldn’t get him off of my mind even when I went home. Will I be taking home every “problem” home with me?

March 24, 2009 First class, they are at the library which is just down the hall. They walk in very quietly to their seats in the class and R sits in his alcove. The teacher is at a meeting and an aide is sent in. One of the student’s mother, who is a doctor, comes to speak about Women’s History Month. She engages the children in activities and R is brought into the class. It was nice seeing him IN the class. When she left, R went back to his seat. Things went back to “normal.” Later in the day, the teacher had them make thank you card. Everyone delved into writing and coloring their cards. I asked her, “What about R?” She said, “Oh, he’s sleeping.” I was upset. He could have written a letter, I’m sure. What do I do? Should I push it? Well, I wound up pushing it inside and carried on. Throughout the day, I’d take a glance over to find him slumped on the desk, reading a bit, and fidgeting with his things. I graded papers and did a language arts class. I am not so happy being here. Should I “suck it up”, focus on what I can get out of this class, and get the seven weeks over? Should I shrug my shoulders and say “That’s life and not feel badly for R and his situation? I tutor another girl on the math. I know all of their names and some of them wave as they come in the morning and when they leave. They seem SO much older than the second graders.

March 25, 2009 As I enter the classroom, R’s desk and chair are missing from their spot. He’s in the classroom! What prompted her to move his seat? I didn’t even ask. Literacy block is here and everyone takes out their textbooks except R. The teacher doesn’t instruct him to do so and he has nothing to do. He’s sleeping on the desk, playing with his pencils, and quietly flipping through a book. He takes out a juice box and takes a few sips. I do a few pages from the comprehension book and he opens to the page. “We’re on page 116, R,” I said. When I am done, the class works on writing a summary of Anne Frank. R is not involved because “ he didn’t buy the book”- another excuse to isolate him. The teacher tells them that they will be having a social studies test on Tuesday. Rather than have him sit there, I gave him the social studies textbook and told him to read chapter 4. He said in a hardly audible voice, “Ok.” Yes, at least he’s doing something productive. Five minutes later as I was checking the science packets, Ms. T takes the textbook away from him. She tells him to read a book that he had on his desk, some storybook by Silverstein. Why? Why won’t she let him read the textbook? I’m so mad. She tells him not to drink his juice. WHAT IS THIS BOY SUPPOSED TO BE DOING ALL DAY LONG?! He’s already isolated, next to being invisible. Then it’s the money issue. He was playing with some coins and she wasn’t going to let that happen. Talk about a control freak! He wasn’t bothering anyone, wasn’t disturbing the class in ANY way, but she wouldn’t let it go. She told him to give her the money, but he simply clutched his fist and wouldn’t let go. She pulled him up, put him in his little alcove and buzzed the office. Ms. T: I have a student that I want removed from my class. Office: Who? T: R. O: Who do you want? T: Pick a straw. I was boiling, my heart was beating, and I didn’t know what to do. Tears weld up and I tried to focus on the science papers.

A few minutes went by. R waited by the door looking out a few times, but remained calm. The psychologist comes up and I couldn’t hold my tears or emotions anymore. I said that I needed to speak with her. She followed me into the staff lounge. I told her that I felt badly for R and that he does nothing in the class. Something has got to be done because nothing good is going to come out of him being in that class. What is everyone waiting for, I asked her. Are they waiting for something tragic to happen? She went on to reiterate what the teacher had told me. Without the mother’s cooperation he will remain in this situation. I asked her why he can’t be taken away from her since she is negligent. Mental cases are very hard to prove to child protective services. There’s no physical or sexual abuse, therefore he remains with the mother. Essentially, the school’s hands are tied. He remains where he is and that is that! If he had a para to stay with him and at least became engaged in the classroom. If only he was spoken to more kindly by the teacher. If she didn’t have to pick on every little thing he did. If only. This is where I stopped short of telling the psychologist what I observe in the classroom. Do they know, do they agree with her handling, are they turning a blind eye and just hoping that it will go away?

March 26, 2009 I walked in to see R sitting in the classroom and the teacher and psychologist talking. Neither one of them looked up. I sheepishly looked for those science papers to finish, wishing I weren’t here. Things continued as if nothing had happened. Am I too sentimental, too emotional? Do I need to toughen up and grow a thick skin? Another mother comes in to talk about her job as a telephone repair woman. R seemed to be interested and was attentive while she spoke. We then went down to see a performance by “Bash the Trash”, a musical group that uses trash as musical instruments. I sat one seat away from R and it was great to see engage

and clapping to the performance. He turned to me and smiled. I smiled back and clapped along. It was fun while it lasted. The class went back to a math test. R was given a test as well. One question though, how is he supposed to take a test when his math book is untouched? When he is sent to school medicated, sleeps, and is not engaged by the teacher? And then he is given a test?! You’ve got to be kidding me. I leave for lunch and when I come back I see a note “R refused to take the math test” stapled on to the math test!!! What should I do? What can I do?

March 27, 2009 No School today, teachers are grading math assessments March 30, 2009 It’s Monday. R is absent today and in a way I am relieved. I get to look closer at the rest of the class and Ms T’s teaching styles and strategies. It is a well-run, organized 4th grade. The students all know what is expected of them and have learned the routines very well. The strong will of the teacher and the structure and guidance she has provided for her students makes for a smooth running environment. Whereas I may take a child aside and consult with him/her, she has no problem correcting them or criticizing them publicly. “Miss A, who forgot her glasses, needs to sit on the floor next to the board. Mr. B, don’t be talking to Miss C. At least she is not going to have to repeat 4th grade. Miss D, you’re dressed inappropriately again today.” I guess that’s what works for her and as I said, these children are on their best behavior, even though I’ve heard that they’re a tough group. She doesn’t take nonsense from anyone. She doesn’t send home “missing homework” slips. The same thing goes when she taught 3rd grade. They get a zero and that’s that. They had a reading test on a story they read two weeks ago then read their science chapter. They do a LOT of silent reading and answering questions at the back of the chapter.

After lunch, they practiced the skills needed for the science state exam. They measured, weighed, and compared their results. She reminded them to talk quietly but allowed for a healthy noise level of active discussions. The way she gave out the material and collected them was a very organized one. She selected a few students and each one was instructed to collect a specific item. She was clear about where to place these items. Students who she felt needed to study for social studies, she kept them from going to music.