Last week Frankenoid put up a diary talking about being tired from the parent perspective. When she first brought it up, I realized that I, too, could come up with a comparable diary from a special ed teacher's perspective, especially that of a sped teacher who's also been a sped parent.
I have been guilty of expecting the sped teacher to "cure" my child. I have been guilty of wanting the magic wand. I have been the one crying on the shoulder of a teacher.
And now I'm on the other side. And I do get tired, especially now that I realize what those teachers were going through--and that was pre-NCLB!
My caseload this year is smaller than it has been in the past, although it's growing and my school responsibilities are growing as well. And my caseload is more complex this year with more students requiring individual attention rather than small group work. But I'm tired.
This year, due to Federal requirements, the IEP forms look entirely different from what they have in the past. The eligibility forms look entirely different. Progress report expectations are different, and the state is demanding that we change our method of assessing eligibility for students with learning disabilities although they're not entirely sure that this form of intervention necessarily is effective, either. This means I spend more time writing these documents than I already do to make sure that everything is done correctly before I go into the meetings.
I work in a K-8 building, and my responsibilities are stretching more and more downward from my official middle school assignment as we scramble to deal with the reality that we have a large clot of first and second graders who--for whatever reason--have reading problems. And other problems, once we probe and look around deeper. My elementary colleague is only part time, and stretched to the max. My colleague is tired, and I'm tired, too, because I'm giving that person a LOT of support as well as managing my middle schoolers plus the 5th graders.
I have several parents who seem to believe that their child should be performing--reading, never writing, although writing is often worse--at grade level by this point in time. Yeah, sure, I'll fire up the magic wand and fix that. Next in line! Reality is, what I can do is ensure that the student acquires the content knowledge in a form that he (this year they're all boys) can absorb, and find accommodations that allow him to demonstrate his knowledge effectively. We try to work with kids in reading at this level, but the time I get with these kids is so limited that I don't have much of a chance away from general ed settings to work with them. Especially when the parents won't insist that the kid gives up an elective to come to me to work. Or, worse, that the kid shouldn't give up an elective. Then I get torn between parent and general ed teacher, because the general ed teacher doesn't want to give the kid pullout time, and, usually, sped kids don't want to do pullout by middle school. They fight it horribly unless general ed is so miserable for them that they prize that quiet individual time with the sped teacher.
I have four middle school students in various stages of eligibility who should have been identified before this school year. Obviously, though, the philosophy of "oh they'll catch up" or "oh that's just a phase" has ruled, along with giving a nice and cooperative kid a higher grade instead of pointing out that There Are Problems.
Last week I went to my most aggressive identifiers, the sixth grade team, and told them I wanted them to refer one child ASAP because I'd worked with that child in a general ed class and Something Has To Be Done...before the kid moves. I don't usually do that. That's how bad it was. But the grades from previous schools were good--in spite of standardized test scores and work samples that showed there was a problem. Grr.
Several kids have emotional issues which require intensive management and sometimes one-on-one time to get them past a loop to perform in class.
I have no clear idea which kids we're going to talk about in our weekly Student Study Team meeting because we've got the schedule run out into December, with kids that are Urgent Do Something Nows! and we need to schedule parents, teachers, and upper level administration to come to these meetings. Oh, I know some of it, but we get so many urgent meetings that it becomes crazy--and with two of us scheduling, it's not always clear. That's a management issue on my part, and I've got to fix it.
I'm tired, and that's just the beginning of my ratrace. I have educational service district test experts coming but no permissions to test from parents yet (what? do they think their child will be magically cured if they're not tested and made reeligible?). I have general ed teachers who've suddenly discovered a problem with a kid and They Want It Solved Now.
But, on the other hand, a young person who I made eligible back in sixth grade is now blossoming in 8th grade. This young person can accurately identify subjects and predicates, and even seems to be excited about grammar and understanding grammar. I got to talk to the parent and praise the kid in front of the kid. I should probably cut this one loose from my mandatory morning elective--but the kid is turning into a neat student, and I'm afraid to do that just yet.
Ah well. This is probably all just esoteric teacher grumbling that no one wants to hear. I doubt I've been able to completely express the dilemmas I face on a daily basis, or even explain why I am so tired, or why I groan when yet another e-mail comes across my computer with more changes to how I write eligibilities and IEPs.
I am the magic worker, the problem solver. I'm the building sped teacher, and I'm supposed to be the Queen of All Teaching Magic.
And right now, the Queen is tired.