Sub-Sister: Adventures in Substitute Teaching

My Day In Special Ed

Actually "Special Ed" isn't used anymore. That's just what they called the learning disabled classes back in my day. *sigh* Yeah... back in a simpler time before I heard such terms as mainstreaming and inclusion.

Quick lesson in definitions:

Mainstreaming - Basically, taking a learning disabled student out of the secluded Special Education class, and placing them in a few "regular" classes. They can only stay in these classes if they can "keep up" with the rest of their classmates.

Inclusion - This is when the learning disabled student is present in all "regular" classes, but with a tutor who will help them along.

The reason for this impromptu mini-lecture, is that I was recently a sub for an Inclusion Tutor (I don't think that's actually the correct term, but there are so many freakin' titles and acronyms in school systems that I'm gonna start making up my own so I too can sound like a know-it-all beaurocrat). I had this cute middle schooler whom I sat with during the day to give hints to, prod and prompt, and praise and berate as needed. This all went well for the first half of the day. Although it was highly boring to me as I was only in charge of one kid, I definitely saw the positive effect that Inclusion can have. This student gets to hang out with his peers, he learns the same things they do (although at a different speed), and the classroom teacher gets to teach at their regular pace knowing that the Tutor is on hand to help the learning disabled student along. There's no class flow disruption as the teacher goes over to help the special students, and there's no odd looks from the rest of the class toward the kid with his special teacher... because they're used to it. Yay.

The problem is, since the child is supposed to be totally included in all "normal" activities, there's no place for the student to go when they start acting.. well, disabled. Let me 'splain. See, me and my Little Buddy, after a morning of good times, get in a class where the fun of the hour seems to be the students running their mouths off at the push-over teacher. Fun, eh? I thought it was just the group of kids until the teacher left for a moment, leaving me in charge. Total 180 in attitudes. All of the sudden it was "Yes Ma'am" and "May I?". They only spoke to the teacher with such disrespect because she allowed them to. My Little Buddy, following the example of his peers, joined in on the fun, and became irate when I wouldn't put up with the same backtalk that she did. In response to me being a "hard*ss", LB self-destructively refused to do any schoolwork as a sort of political protest. In the next classroom, his mouthiness and uncooperativeness continued, disrupting the class and that teacher's lesson.

Unfortunately, my Little Buddy had gotten off track, and as an Inclusion student his actions were to be handled in the same manner as the rest of his classmates. In other words, bad behavior=detention. This didn't seem fair to me. Yes, this kid is in the same classes as the rest of the students, but he also works at a different pace to accommodate his special needs. He gets a tutor to accommodate his special needs. He takes oral tests accommodate his special needs. So why doesn't he get a different punishment or time out to accommodate his special needs?!?

Now, will someone give me a hand down from this soapbox?

posted by Magpie Chick at 9:54 PM | 0 comment(s)

Big Yellow Bus

So, as you know, I've been doing lots of activity bus driving; taking various sports teams to and from games. (Side note: none of the teams I've driven have won their games. I think I'm bad luck... poor babies.) But this past week I got my first Substitute Bus Driving assignment. This means that I actually got to drive a big yellow bus, use the pretty lights, the nifty stop sign, and say fun things like, "Do I need to stop this bus?!". Great fun!

But as you might expect, things didn't exactly go perfect on my first day. Of course not, that would be too easy, and not nearly as interesting as what actually happened.

First, I couldn't get the bus to move. Here I am at the school all alone in the pitch-black, deathly silent pre-dawn and the darned thing Will Not Budge. The parking brake seems to be stuck. So I fiddle and fiddle with it, push every button and knob I can find just in case, until I finally just floor the gas. The Beast jumps like I've just flown over a small vehicle and jerks forward about ten feet at full speed. So we have movement, but I spend the rest of the trip wondering whether there is a real problem with the braking system, or if I've done some sort of irreparable damage to the Beast.

The morning run went smoothly. I mean, I didn't leave any kids behind. Not that I know of. Of course, they weren't on the bus to let me know, but you understand.

The afternoon run was different. First, there were many many more kids to keep an eye on. I'm not sure how this happened. Where did they come from? Most likely, a bunch of the kiddies decided to ride home with their friends. Since I didn't know any of the kids anyway, I certainly wouldn't be able to tell if I had some stowaways onboard.

Then I had all the kindergarteners right behind me. These children were apparently asleep on the morning run, because I was not prepared for the unholy racket they made in the afternoon. At that age, kinders are still at the "squeal like a stuck pig when so excited that words will not do this joy justice" stage. So every time one of them saw a cute bunny on the roadside, or a bug on their seat, or their seatmate tried to kiss them, I would be shocked out of my seat by an ear-piercing high-pitched blood-curdling wail of death.

My bus swerved over the yellow line alot.

And since I attract nauseous children from miles around, I of course had a sick little girl on the bus. I hear "Miss Bus Driver, Sara's sick!" and look up to see a tear-stained little face peeking out from over a seat. Crap. all I could think was that this child was going to throw up on the bus, and I didn't know how to clean the thing out. Poor kid was looking to me for help, and all I can do is worry, move her to the seat behind me, and listen to her sob. Bless her heart, she made it home.

But the best, and most disturbing, thing was that the older kids all looked like they were behaving from the shoulders up, but behind the seats there was utter anarchy. Anarchy!! Now, I didn't find out about all this until much later, but my seemingly well-behaved dearies were back there cussing each other out, flipping each other off, and goodness knows what else. Heathens. I felt responsible, but really how is a driver supposed to catch these things? They're in their seats, they're not throwing things, they're not mooning passing traffic, and they're quieter than the kinders... *sigh*

To make up for it, I had one of the itty-bitties run up to me clutching a sweaty handful of dandelions. "Miss Bus Driver Lady! These are for you." Awww...

I'm all ferklempt.

posted by Magpie Chick at 10:36 PM | 1 comment(s)