Literacy Coach, The Milagro Center
Former LEND Trainee at Westchester Institute of Human Development
My beginnings were humble, survival; having adequate
food, clothing and shelter were always an effort. After high school, obtaining higher education
was not expected. My family needed me to locate a job and contribute
to my upkeep and their preservation. I was obedient, respectful, docile, even,
and knew I would do what was expected.
But I also wanted
a profession, not a job. As luck would have it, a local high school had a
nursing program. I applied and was accepted. In nursing school, I was dedicated and competent but family
responsibilities and burdens; as well as professional training was stressful. After graduating, I changed paths and obtained positions
in the corporate world.
Financially, I was helping my family and regularly buying
myself material things but professionally I was unfulfilled. My days, sitting
at a desk, answering phones, move papers about, attending meetings, and such was
unrewarding, and unimaginative.
Frequently, I was despondent and I pursued professional help.
In therapy I worked hard and ultimately started learning and
recognizing what was important to and special about me. I realized I had good writing skills, I kept
journals, I loved to read, had a wide-ranging record collection, an impressive art
collection, I was an excellent swimmer, a decent photography and had traveled considerable.
And I had an eclectic group of friends.
I wanted to attend college. And beyond all odds, I did. I
majored in psychology/sociology and took a few education courses as electives. Studying education, methods of teaching, and such
inspired me. And with my miscellaneous and eclectic background and experiences,
I though I had the qualities to become an excellent teacher.
I initially taught Social Studies, Common Branches,
grades 1-6, which I loved. I was not certified and had no influence as to what and
where I would teach. Therefore, I was transferred as needed, and found myself
teaching Social Studies in Junior High and High School. But in a teacher’s newsletter I saw a temporary, middle
of the school year, teaching position in an elementary school in a low
performing district.
I applied, was interviewed and hired to teach a third grade
class. Unbeknown, to me the class was a Special Education class. (I later
learned no qualified special education teacher applied for the job and in
desperation, I was hired.) The class consisted of 10 boys and 2 girls, who were
American Blacks, Hispanic and African. At least two were foster children, three lived
with extended family members, almost all presented with health issues; asthma,
allergies, all of the students were language delayed, none were reading on
grade level and several could not read at all.
For the first two weeks or so, teaching was touch and go.
The students were problematic, the workload grueling, and I had much to
learn. I did not know what an IEP,
Individual Education Plan was, and nothing, no course I took in college, had
adequately prepared me for the disrupted behavior, running in the hallways and
classroom, fighting and lying I encountered. But, I was not put off! An avid reader and life learner, I started reading books
about Pat Mora, Tom Feelings, Zora Neale Hurston, Malcolm X, Rosa Parks and Langston
Hughes to the students.
I wanted the students to see themselves, to start
learning about their cultural and hopefully develop an interest in reading and
language. From my collection I brought in records, jazz, folk
music, and such, to help enhance listening skills. And afterwards, I lead
discussions, encouraged the students to share their feelings and ideas about
what they had heard.
With student assisted relevant bulletin boards, about their
neighborhoods, families, friends and playgrounds were created. I included the
student’s words, names, ages and photos. Along the way, I taught the students, boys included, how
to crochet. A math lesson became the
opportunity to measure flour, salt, and sugar in order to bake cookies. Worry free Journal writing, students were encouraged to
write, and they were not penalized for spelling and such, was a daily activity.
Slowly, the students started to trust me and I knew they knew
that I respected them. I listened, encouraged, and I did not maligned them. Remarkable, I witnessed a slight decrease in some disrupted
behaviors. Students lined up when I
asked them to and pushing and shoving dwindled. I rewarded, every progress,
with stickers, certificates of merits and encouraging, motivating words and smiles.
My AP, Assistant
Principal, gave inspiring suggestions when he visited my classroom. The Principal
visited and took notes. After about two months, I was asked to attend a meeting
with the Principal and Assistant Principal.
Needless, to say I was terrified.
I wondered what had I done wrong, incorrect, poorly.
But in the meeting, I was stunned to learn that
apparently I had done things and was doing things well. And I was offered the
opportunity to participate in a special program. It turned out The District had established a
tuition free program to train teachers who were willing to commit to teaching
special education. Principal and Assistant Principal wanted to
know if I would participate. The answer
was a firm yes!!!
And so, with guidance, encouragement, and support, I
enrolled in a Master’s Program in Special Education.
I completed the program, became state certified and
started teaching special education students. And I embraced my profession and became clear
about my goals and purpose in life.
Gathering and hording things are not important aims for
me. Self-improvement, self-awareness and self-control are my primary
objectives. Teaching, communicating,
sharing and helping people, persons, especial children, notable children who
have and are confronting challenging’s are important to me and my purposes in
life.
But, sometimes, I become despondent, angry even when I
recall the emotional, physical, social and educational difficulties,
disadvantages and drawbacks that seemed to have been discarded on me, my life
and living! But then I remember the
words of Mark Twain “The best way to cheer yourself up is to cheer somebody
else up.” And I do just that!!!!
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