Over the summer I wrote several times (maybe not here but certainly on Facebook) about my frustrations and failings in life- specifically in the arena of employment Really, though, it was all-around a difficult summer. A difficult summer coming directly off the heels of a previous difficult summer, fraught with opportunity after opportunity falling through and... well, to say there wasn't a lot of hope would be like saying the Tigers kind of swept the Yankees to advance to the World Series (possibly a shameless ploy to justify labels to increase blog traffic).
So I feel like now, after a whirlwind month that has witnessed some changes and what I feel are significant steps forward, I owe it to those who stood beside me and held me up, hoped for me, prayed for me, encouraged me, and believed in me- I owe it to them to write about the good stuff, too.
One month and one day ago, I was sitting home sick and watching some television when I got a call to come in for an interview. One thing led to another, and one month and one day later I have a honest-to-goodness job in social work. Score! Oh yeah, and also after spending five months of living under someone elses roof, Sara and I signed a year lease for a mobile home (with 3 bedrooms to boot!). For the first time in years, life doesn't feel like a piece of Saran wrap stretched tight over my face.
It's been quite a journey over the past couple of years. Right after graduation, I took a job (ironically enough, at the same place that I work now although the experience is already 100% completely different) that drove me into the most pervasive and destructive pit of emotional despair that I have ever been in. I spent about three months hating life and feeling like I could never be whole again.
It's taken a few years, but things are heading in the right direction. I'm enjoying my job so far. It's been challenging- but it's a good challenging, the type of challenge that brings growth and development. As opposed to the challenging of the last few years, which was more about the challenge of trying to survive.
I'm not naive enough to think that my entry level social work position and trailer park living signify any sort of "arrival". But after a couple years of questioning whether I could fulfill the promise that my education seemed to tease and wondering if we'd spend forever cashing in bottles to prevent bounced checks and using loose change to buy a Hot-N-Ready for dinner, we've found stability. A little stability. But it's stability, and for us, a little stability feels like heaven.
Even if that heaven exists in a trailer park.
Showing posts with label Education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Education. Show all posts
Friday, October 19, 2012
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
The indecisive can never have everything they ever wanted
While I would never claim to be the Word Guy or some sort of mystical word-wielding warrior poet call me Conan the Verbarian or even Bill Simmons, there aren't many times where I am unable to piece together a timely or appropriate introduction or conclusion. Now they may not be Pulitzer Prize winning components, but they generally flow easily and tie in with the greater thrust of what I'm trying to accomplish in my writing.
Sometimes, those words don't come so easily to me, and I have to dig and dig and dig some more...and usually I'm able to come up with something that might not be structurally beautiful but is at least functional.
And then, once in a great, great while, I simply can't think of what the heck to say and I have to fudge something. Like I am now. So then I have to apologize for the long-winded nothingness- I just couldn't figure out how to start off what I wanted to say (other than just coming right out and saying it...but how boring is that?).
Yesterday, I was formally offered a social work position at a social work agency. Yesterday, I formally accepted said position. Today, I started to process what that change is going to mean in our lives a little bit. Today...I'm just chock full of all sorts of emotions.
I wrote last week about my mixed feelings- and they're still there. Probably will be for awhile. To be clear- I'm very excited about my new position. It pays more. Full-time employment throughout the summer. A professional position in my field- that long anticipated, oft-bemoaned, first foot in the door, a notch in the belt for future stability and security. Stability and security. We aren't there yet, but after seven years of scratching and clawing (and being scratched and clawed) to make a living, I've finally landed a job that should carry me upwards and onwards wherever life may take us.
But this is also one of those moments where you realize when you have some pretty green grass right where you are, and how sometimes, that patch of green grass is maybe everything you ever wanted also, the grass is metaphorical. Real grass is sort of boring. These last nine months were so tremendous. Yeah, there were ups and downs and when you're leaving a job it's probably a lot easier to wax nostalgic about the good times/forget about the bad- but when you're an aide (or a direct care worker or something like that), those bad times can (and often do) serve to forge solid, airtight bonds of friendship. You're in the trenches with these people, wading through the muck and mire and mucus and...well, it doesn't pay the bills- but you can't buy it with money either. I'm going to miss my FSPeeps. I'm going to miss all of the wonderful human beings that roam the halls of 401 North Sixth Street. Not everybody gets to love their job, but these past few months I got to live that out, and it makes me sad that I can only take it with me in a non-corporeal sense.
Next week I'll be taking that first step into the world of post-college professionalism. It's simultaneously frightening and exhilarating, and many shades in between. I don't know what the next steps will be, or where they will land. But I do know that those steps will bear shoe prints emblazoned with an 'SK' rocket ship.
Man, there is so much I want to say, and so few ways that I'm coming up with to say it. So this is what I got- thanks for the memories, Sandy Knoll. I miss you already.
This is the part where I'd have a nice, hopefully witty conclusion that referenced my introduction and hit on several of the themes contained within the body of my work. Again, words are failing me. Thanks a lot, words.
PIC: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtsCjoT5vyt7xir8PBjNk3F3GOETQxB7yzo1O9UoS6uniyEQg5VDnXyJJffzDytMdiE_8rKdy9JN-F5uMHCfAMM1wiP2CdpJzZnik5ORSmGe6-3yFKqFT6MvccS4mubrVfQC-ccEg_L0/s1600/STEVE_BUSCEMI_MR_DEEDS.jpg
Sometimes, those words don't come so easily to me, and I have to dig and dig and dig some more...and usually I'm able to come up with something that might not be structurally beautiful but is at least functional.
 |
| I call those ones "Steve" |
And then, once in a great, great while, I simply can't think of what the heck to say and I have to fudge something. Like I am now. So then I have to apologize for the long-winded nothingness- I just couldn't figure out how to start off what I wanted to say (other than just coming right out and saying it...but how boring is that?).
Yesterday, I was formally offered a social work position at a social work agency. Yesterday, I formally accepted said position. Today, I started to process what that change is going to mean in our lives a little bit. Today...I'm just chock full of all sorts of emotions.
I wrote last week about my mixed feelings- and they're still there. Probably will be for awhile. To be clear- I'm very excited about my new position. It pays more. Full-time employment throughout the summer. A professional position in my field- that long anticipated, oft-bemoaned, first foot in the door, a notch in the belt for future stability and security. Stability and security. We aren't there yet, but after seven years of scratching and clawing (and being scratched and clawed) to make a living, I've finally landed a job that should carry me upwards and onwards wherever life may take us.
But this is also one of those moments where you realize when you have some pretty green grass right where you are, and how sometimes, that patch of green grass is maybe everything you ever wanted also, the grass is metaphorical. Real grass is sort of boring. These last nine months were so tremendous. Yeah, there were ups and downs and when you're leaving a job it's probably a lot easier to wax nostalgic about the good times/forget about the bad- but when you're an aide (or a direct care worker or something like that), those bad times can (and often do) serve to forge solid, airtight bonds of friendship. You're in the trenches with these people, wading through the muck and mire and mucus and...well, it doesn't pay the bills- but you can't buy it with money either. I'm going to miss my FSPeeps. I'm going to miss all of the wonderful human beings that roam the halls of 401 North Sixth Street. Not everybody gets to love their job, but these past few months I got to live that out, and it makes me sad that I can only take it with me in a non-corporeal sense.
Next week I'll be taking that first step into the world of post-college professionalism. It's simultaneously frightening and exhilarating, and many shades in between. I don't know what the next steps will be, or where they will land. But I do know that those steps will bear shoe prints emblazoned with an 'SK' rocket ship.
Man, there is so much I want to say, and so few ways that I'm coming up with to say it. So this is what I got- thanks for the memories, Sandy Knoll. I miss you already.
This is the part where I'd have a nice, hopefully witty conclusion that referenced my introduction and hit on several of the themes contained within the body of my work. Again, words are failing me. Thanks a lot, words.
PIC: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCtsCjoT5vyt7xir8PBjNk3F3GOETQxB7yzo1O9UoS6uniyEQg5VDnXyJJffzDytMdiE_8rKdy9JN-F5uMHCfAMM1wiP2CdpJzZnik5ORSmGe6-3yFKqFT6MvccS4mubrVfQC-ccEg_L0/s1600/STEVE_BUSCEMI_MR_DEEDS.jpg
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Moment of clarity, moment of truth
From now on, do yourself a favor- whenever I make any sort of definitive statement about my life, assume that it's going to change sometime in the near future. Because over the past year or so I've been railing against my lot in life, and how I was woefully under-employed in my current position and how it was stupid that the only jobs I could find were ones that required a high school diploma when I was a Summa Cum Laude college graduate.
And now, a couple days after the latest interview and waiting to hear back on another potential job (eighth times a charm!), I find myself not knowing whether I really want to move on.
Without trying to paint myself into too much of a corner (lest I get the job offer and decide to take it), I'll say that there are at least a few reasons why I find myself waffling right before this quasi-huge moment that may not actually even come. Probably some insecurity in there, I'll admit. But perhaps one of the biggest reasons is that I've come to realize that I really love where I'm at right now.
I can't pinpoint exactly when it happened. But I do know that last week I was going for a walk, contemplating applying for new digs and thinking about the idea of leaving it....and I started to cry. Not just once- three times, this happened. I'm not even joking. Three times brah. I realized, then and there, that I really, REALLY like what I do.
Plus (and you can call me Little Boy Blue because I'm about to toot my own horn here) I'm really freaking good at it. I'm definitely the best male aide in the whole school. This year has given me ample opportunity to step up my game- and let's just say you can consider my game Stepped Up. We had some (difficult) new students start with very short notice, and a new aide hire quit with even shorter notice. To say it was very challenging would have been a contender for the understatement of the century.
The thing was- I liked it. I think it made me sort of retreat into this "survival" mode, quit kvetching about what lost opportunities were out there, roll up my sleeves and get in there to make it happen. And make it happen we have. Because as awesome as I am, I also happen to work with tremendous people who work just as hard along side of me. I'm not just an asset being stockpiled for the slow days- I'm an integral part of a well-oiled machine. And that's pretty freaking sweet.
To suavely point out the elephant in the room, I'm not so naive to think that having my kids going to school in the same building I'm working in plays a minor role. I love working in the same place my children do. Do I love seeing my kids randomly passing in the halls and being able to stop in their rooms on break and getting the chance to interact with their teachers in the lounge? Pardon the French, but you bet your ass I do. It may be the frosting on top of the Last Cake Standing- but it's frosting that you'd scale a donut mountain that was riding a skateboard for.
While it may sound like a slam dunk to stay, it certainly isn't- we aren't exactly in a place where I can afford to be romantic with my occupational decisions. Money isn't the only thing- but it's A thing, and unfortunately for us, right now it's a pretty important thing. The new job would increase our income by about 200%, and more importantly it would be the same level of income in the summer months. I've worked in schools the last couple of years, and have found out the hard way that money doesn't just grow on trees.
But you know what? I realized that if the school would let me, I'd clean toilets over the summer to stay where I'm at.
The other thing is that I'm not merely making another hopscotch step on my resume, but rather trying to have the next step be THE step- the Rasheed Wallace to my Ted Mosby if you will. One thing my interview for New Job made pretty apparent to me is that the Professional World is very, very scary. Yet, it's what I spent over $30,000 to try and learn how to conquer, and as much as I may love what I'm doing now, eventually I'm either going to have to come to grips with the fact that I've failed to live up to my education or come up with some really, really good excuses for doing so.
If I was to leave, it would be perfect timing. Next week, half of our classroom population will be moving over to a different building for the re-institution of a middle school Functional Skills program. I'd have a week to help set up the classroom for the rest of the year. Of course, all of this is assuming that New Job offers me a position- which, as I painfully found out this summer is never, ever a slam dunk. All these thoughts are just me trying to be prepared for that second in time when the moment of clarity intersects with the moment of truth and I have a decision to make.
Right now, I'm not sure I'm ready. Right now, I don't know if I'll ever be ready.
PICS-
Cake- http://shewalks.blogspot.com/2011/03/ugliest-hair-on-television.html
Toilet- https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCjVnKW1BGcXxpAUvJldt-MoQLj5ouRlVieP6e3QREUIJ5yLjzcERCaBnbAiqXzmR_JextTxHor_E6QX_L93Dzt6MmN0347Z5CiAre9uPe6Fc0sf7GeLCX8gqC0pBkDd7Te2mf3UT0kqbC/s1600/dirty_toilet_001.jpg
And now, a couple days after the latest interview and waiting to hear back on another potential job (eighth times a charm!), I find myself not knowing whether I really want to move on.
Without trying to paint myself into too much of a corner (lest I get the job offer and decide to take it), I'll say that there are at least a few reasons why I find myself waffling right before this quasi-huge moment that may not actually even come. Probably some insecurity in there, I'll admit. But perhaps one of the biggest reasons is that I've come to realize that I really love where I'm at right now.
I can't pinpoint exactly when it happened. But I do know that last week I was going for a walk, contemplating applying for new digs and thinking about the idea of leaving it....and I started to cry. Not just once- three times, this happened. I'm not even joking. Three times brah. I realized, then and there, that I really, REALLY like what I do.
Plus (and you can call me Little Boy Blue because I'm about to toot my own horn here) I'm really freaking good at it. I'm definitely the best male aide in the whole school. This year has given me ample opportunity to step up my game- and let's just say you can consider my game Stepped Up. We had some (difficult) new students start with very short notice, and a new aide hire quit with even shorter notice. To say it was very challenging would have been a contender for the understatement of the century.
The thing was- I liked it. I think it made me sort of retreat into this "survival" mode, quit kvetching about what lost opportunities were out there, roll up my sleeves and get in there to make it happen. And make it happen we have. Because as awesome as I am, I also happen to work with tremendous people who work just as hard along side of me. I'm not just an asset being stockpiled for the slow days- I'm an integral part of a well-oiled machine. And that's pretty freaking sweet.
To suavely point out the elephant in the room, I'm not so naive to think that having my kids going to school in the same building I'm working in plays a minor role. I love working in the same place my children do. Do I love seeing my kids randomly passing in the halls and being able to stop in their rooms on break and getting the chance to interact with their teachers in the lounge? Pardon the French, but you bet your ass I do. It may be the frosting on top of the Last Cake Standing- but it's frosting that you'd scale a donut mountain that was riding a skateboard for.
 |
| Oh, and also, you're Marge Simpson |
But you know what? I realized that if the school would let me, I'd clean toilets over the summer to stay where I'm at.
 |
| On second thought, 200% is a lotta dough... |
If I was to leave, it would be perfect timing. Next week, half of our classroom population will be moving over to a different building for the re-institution of a middle school Functional Skills program. I'd have a week to help set up the classroom for the rest of the year. Of course, all of this is assuming that New Job offers me a position- which, as I painfully found out this summer is never, ever a slam dunk. All these thoughts are just me trying to be prepared for that second in time when the moment of clarity intersects with the moment of truth and I have a decision to make.
Right now, I'm not sure I'm ready. Right now, I don't know if I'll ever be ready.
PICS-
Cake- http://shewalks.blogspot.com/2011/03/ugliest-hair-on-television.html
Toilet- https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCjVnKW1BGcXxpAUvJldt-MoQLj5ouRlVieP6e3QREUIJ5yLjzcERCaBnbAiqXzmR_JextTxHor_E6QX_L93Dzt6MmN0347Z5CiAre9uPe6Fc0sf7GeLCX8gqC0pBkDd7Te2mf3UT0kqbC/s1600/dirty_toilet_001.jpg
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Comic sans and the art of trying to manipulate heart strings (but with all sorts of backfiring)
The other day I was checking my e-mail, when I found THIS in my inbox. And when I say THIS, I want you to get swept up in the moment, like I was about to unveil some get-rich quick scheme or great deal on Amazon.com, or something much, much more awesome than what I am actually going to share with you.
Because what I am going to share with you is a forward that tells a possibly pretend simple story and tries to light a fire inside of you to make you want to solve all of the world's problems without actually giving you the tools to solve anything. Here it is:
Any time I get an e-forward dealing with some vague story in the cheesy forward font (that I have so painstakingly preserved for you...but seriously, what is up with that font?), with the CAPS and the colors- I tend to just delete it or ignore it. But something about this one rubbed me the wrong way. And so I'm devoting a whole flipping blog to it.
First of all, I should acknowledge that there is some good stuff here. The premise is solid, and not just for special education. I do believe that education should be more pragmatic in many regards. There's all these 'academic pursuits' that on the surface don't really have any real-life application at all. Why should kids have to learn their times tables, and memorize state capitals, and how to do all that other crap we had to do in school that I honestly don't remember? So they can all grow up and get the good factory jobs that we're now outsourcing?
As a parent, I have to say that I'm...well, I'm in 'wait-and-see' mode when it comes to public education. I'm not super cynical, but I am also afraid that my kids will end up missing out on something awesome. Both my kids are smart. And they love to learn, so I'm not worried about them failing in the system. My fear is that they won't develop the ability to think critically until they're in college (which is what happened to yours truly) because the system is set up to produce a bunch of times-table knowing, state-capital spouting drones. And yes, that's pretty much truth I just spit.
Back to our story. The problem I have with this forward (and others of similar ilk) is the whole 'Bumper Sticker Philosophy' behind it. These forwards, as I alluded to earlier, try to use some vague and mysterious and shameful anecdote to spur people on to action without really taking a meaningful look at the issue that they're trying to solve. So you end up with a bunch of frothing mad villagers with fire and sharp objects that are just standing around looking confused while whatever pet cause you were trying to promote is still in the same place of non-solvedness that it was before.
That's where I come in. I'm like the Michael Clayton of e-mail forwards. Let's look at a few things that bother me about this particular forward.
1) We don't know anything about the socio-economics of this situation. Are we talking a rural or urban area? Is there lots of money- or is it dirt poor? What about the family? Are they scraping by, trying to do the best they can with the hand they were dealt, or do they have a lot of resources at their disposal? These are not trivial questions, either- they determine the gap between where the child is and where they want him to be. Lots of money=travesty, No money=lower your expectations.
But our author wants us to completely look the other way and just blame the Evil Education System for this kid walking into the ladies room at McDonalds and dumping his trash on the floor at McDonalds and holding up the other customers in line at McDonalds and...wait a minute...I just figured out what the problem is.
STOP GOING TO MCDONALDS.
Seriously though, it's easy to blame the education system without knowing what exactly the education system is able to provide. Do they have enough aide support? Do they have access to auxiliary services, such as speech and OT/PT? Do they even have the appropriate placement? I bet that not every district has a 'middle-school'-type program, and in some areas they might not even have a high school program.
Unfortunately there are districts that can't afford to provide the services that would help this kid to be successful. They can't afford to pay another teacher or two more aides or a speech pathologist and they don't have extra space for such a program, let alone the space they would need for the population they would be providing services for. Thus, you end up with an elementary schooler who is 18 years old. So while it's easy to blame the school for being incompetent (without the pertinent information) maybe, mystery person, your brother is an 18 year old in an elementary school BECAUSE THERE IS LITERALLY NO PLACE ELSE FOR HIM TO GO.
2) It sounds like the problem isn't so much that this kid wasn't taught anything- he just wasn't taught specific skills that you're looking for, or at least he wasn't taught how to generalize the skills he did learn. On that point, I will concede that part of that blame could fall on the school. Many of the areas he seems to be experience deficits in are ones that could be worked on in a classroom setting. It shouldn't be too hard to find time to fold clothes or put coins in a vending machine or even operate a CD player. Those skills could be taught in class, so checkmate. You win.
NOT.
A couple things could get overlooked here. First off, we know a little bit of his academic level, but we don't know how long it took to reach the point where he is at. We don't know how many hundreds of hours were spent trying to get this kid to be able to just put the cube inside the box. The forward makes it sound like these people were just twiddling their thumbs every day for twelve years while little 'Bro was stringing beads and doing Big Bird puzzles like some poor lost ship without a rudder. Even though I have only worked in special education for four months, I can assure you that is not (usually) the case. To get to those levels from the initial baseline is a long, slow, painstaking and arduous process. Sure, it's easy to look at that list and think 'Why the heck would they work on that? That's pointless', without realizing that it can take years of determined effort to achieve those specific skills. Skills which, when generalized, have very broad applicability in the lives of our young protagonist.
It's too bad that the school failed to help him broaden the scope of his efforts. If only there was someone who was with this child even more than the school- someone who could work with them during the summer...and on weekends! Someone who knew how this child functioned outside of the walls of the school and knew which things they needed to work on and could communicate that to the school and maybe...just maybe...work on those things after school hours!
Too bad nothing like that exists. Oh wait, it does. It's called FAMILY.
3) Before I get run away with here, I should say that I can't even imagine how difficult it must be to raise a child with severe special needs. I have been fortunate enough to have been blessed with two healthy children who are certainly a chip off the old block in the smarts department (desmartment?), so I really have no idea how difficult it can be. At most, I get about a seven hour glimpse five days a week, and sometimes that is more than I can take. So I don't mean to be too smarmy and condescending. You..do know what condescending means, right?
Because what I am going to share with you is a forward that tells a possibly pretend simple story and tries to light a fire inside of you to make you want to solve all of the world's problems without actually giving you the tools to solve anything. Here it is:
My brother is 18 years old. He has an IQ of 30-40 and has been in school for 12 years. My brother has always attended an elementary school. He has had a number of years of individualized instruction and has learned to do a lot of things!
My brother can now do lots of things he couldn't do before!
He can put 100 pegs in a board in less than 10 minutes while in his seat with 95% accuracy.
BUT, he can't put quarters in vending machines.
BUT, he can't put quarters in vending machines.
Upon command, he can touch his nose, shoulder, leg, foot, hair and ear. He's still working on wrist, ankle and hips.
BUT, he can't blow his nose when needed.
BUT, he can't blow his nose when needed.
He can now do a 12 piece Big Bird puzzle with 100% accuracy and color the Easter Bunny while staying in the lines.
BUT, he prefers music. However, he was never taught how to use a radio or record player.
BUT, he prefers music. However, he was never taught how to use a radio or record player.
He can now fold primary paper in halves and even quarters.
BUT, he can't fold his clothes.
BUT, he can't fold his clothes.
He can sort blocks by color; up to 10 different colors!
BUT, he can't sort clothes; whites from colors for washing.
BUT, he can't sort clothes; whites from colors for washing.
He can roll Play-Doh and make wonderful clay snakes.
BUT, he can't roll bread dough and cut out biscuits.
BUT, he can't roll bread dough and cut out biscuits.
He can string beads in alternating colors and match it to a pattern on a DLM card.
BUT, he can't lace his shoes.
BUT, he can't lace his shoes.
He can sing his ABCs and tell me names of all the letters of the alphabet when presented on a card in upper case with 80% accuracy.
BUT, he can't tell the men's room from the ladies room when we go to McDonald's.
BUT, he can't tell the men's room from the ladies room when we go to McDonald's.
He can be told it's cloudy/rainy and take a black felt cloud and put it on the day of the week on an enlarged calendar(with assistance).
BUT, he still goes out in the rain without a raincoat.
BUT, he still goes out in the rain without a raincoat.
He can point to 100 different Peabody Picture Cards with 100% accuracy.
BUT, he can't order a hamburger by pointing to a picture or gesturing.
BUT, he can't order a hamburger by pointing to a picture or gesturing.
He can walk a balance beam, side ways and backwards.
BUT, he can't walk up the steps or bleachers unassisted in the gym to go to a basketball game.
BUT, he can't walk up the steps or bleachers unassisted in the gym to go to a basketball game.
He can count to 100 by rote memory.
BUT, he doesn't know how many dollars to pay the cashier for a $2.59 McDonald's coupon special.
BUT, he doesn't know how many dollars to pay the cashier for a $2.59 McDonald's coupon special.
He can put the cube in the box, under the box, beside the box and behind the box.
BUT, he can't find the trash bin in McDonald's and empty his trash in it.
BUT, he can't find the trash bin in McDonald's and empty his trash in it.
He can sit in a circle with appropriate behavior and sing songs and play "Duck, Duck, Goose"
But, nobody else his age in his neighborhood seems to want to do that.
But, nobody else his age in his neighborhood seems to want to do that.
I GUESS HE'S JUST NOT READY YET!
Awww, that's so cute and cuddly and it just makes me want to GET OUT MY FREAKING TORCH AND PITCHFORK AND FREAKING THE FREAKING....oh, sorry. Sometimes I get carried away with myself when I read stories like that. Stories that are, you know, BS.Any time I get an e-forward dealing with some vague story in the cheesy forward font (that I have so painstakingly preserved for you...but seriously, what is up with that font?), with the CAPS and the colors- I tend to just delete it or ignore it. But something about this one rubbed me the wrong way. And so I'm devoting a whole flipping blog to it.
First of all, I should acknowledge that there is some good stuff here. The premise is solid, and not just for special education. I do believe that education should be more pragmatic in many regards. There's all these 'academic pursuits' that on the surface don't really have any real-life application at all. Why should kids have to learn their times tables, and memorize state capitals, and how to do all that other crap we had to do in school that I honestly don't remember? So they can all grow up and get the good factory jobs that we're now outsourcing?
As a parent, I have to say that I'm...well, I'm in 'wait-and-see' mode when it comes to public education. I'm not super cynical, but I am also afraid that my kids will end up missing out on something awesome. Both my kids are smart. And they love to learn, so I'm not worried about them failing in the system. My fear is that they won't develop the ability to think critically until they're in college (which is what happened to yours truly) because the system is set up to produce a bunch of times-table knowing, state-capital spouting drones. And yes, that's pretty much truth I just spit.
 |
| Word |
That's where I come in. I'm like the Michael Clayton of e-mail forwards. Let's look at a few things that bother me about this particular forward.
1) We don't know anything about the socio-economics of this situation. Are we talking a rural or urban area? Is there lots of money- or is it dirt poor? What about the family? Are they scraping by, trying to do the best they can with the hand they were dealt, or do they have a lot of resources at their disposal? These are not trivial questions, either- they determine the gap between where the child is and where they want him to be. Lots of money=travesty, No money=lower your expectations.
But our author wants us to completely look the other way and just blame the Evil Education System for this kid walking into the ladies room at McDonalds and dumping his trash on the floor at McDonalds and holding up the other customers in line at McDonalds and...wait a minute...I just figured out what the problem is.
STOP GOING TO MCDONALDS.
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| Won't somebody please think of the chickens? |
Unfortunately there are districts that can't afford to provide the services that would help this kid to be successful. They can't afford to pay another teacher or two more aides or a speech pathologist and they don't have extra space for such a program, let alone the space they would need for the population they would be providing services for. Thus, you end up with an elementary schooler who is 18 years old. So while it's easy to blame the school for being incompetent (without the pertinent information) maybe, mystery person, your brother is an 18 year old in an elementary school BECAUSE THERE IS LITERALLY NO PLACE ELSE FOR HIM TO GO.
2) It sounds like the problem isn't so much that this kid wasn't taught anything- he just wasn't taught specific skills that you're looking for, or at least he wasn't taught how to generalize the skills he did learn. On that point, I will concede that part of that blame could fall on the school. Many of the areas he seems to be experience deficits in are ones that could be worked on in a classroom setting. It shouldn't be too hard to find time to fold clothes or put coins in a vending machine or even operate a CD player. Those skills could be taught in class, so checkmate. You win.
NOT.
A couple things could get overlooked here. First off, we know a little bit of his academic level, but we don't know how long it took to reach the point where he is at. We don't know how many hundreds of hours were spent trying to get this kid to be able to just put the cube inside the box. The forward makes it sound like these people were just twiddling their thumbs every day for twelve years while little 'Bro was stringing beads and doing Big Bird puzzles like some poor lost ship without a rudder. Even though I have only worked in special education for four months, I can assure you that is not (usually) the case. To get to those levels from the initial baseline is a long, slow, painstaking and arduous process. Sure, it's easy to look at that list and think 'Why the heck would they work on that? That's pointless', without realizing that it can take years of determined effort to achieve those specific skills. Skills which, when generalized, have very broad applicability in the lives of our young protagonist.
It's too bad that the school failed to help him broaden the scope of his efforts. If only there was someone who was with this child even more than the school- someone who could work with them during the summer...and on weekends! Someone who knew how this child functioned outside of the walls of the school and knew which things they needed to work on and could communicate that to the school and maybe...just maybe...work on those things after school hours!
Too bad nothing like that exists. Oh wait, it does. It's called FAMILY.
3) Before I get run away with here, I should say that I can't even imagine how difficult it must be to raise a child with severe special needs. I have been fortunate enough to have been blessed with two healthy children who are certainly a chip off the old block in the smarts department (desmartment?), so I really have no idea how difficult it can be. At most, I get about a seven hour glimpse five days a week, and sometimes that is more than I can take. So I don't mean to be too smarmy and condescending. You..do know what condescending means, right?
That said, what probably pisses me off the most about this forward is the latent idea behind all of those red lines- that the shortcomings, the 'failures' are the fault of the poorly run, insufficiently planned, educational process that this poor child was subjected to his entire life while the poor family stood helplessly by, unable to stop the juggernaut that was too busy carrying their child towards another payday to get wrapped up in actually helping him.
Wait a minute...just what was the family doing for those twelve years?
Wait a minute...just what was the family doing for those twelve years?
I'm not going to entertain the possibility that this family (unlike some) is uncaring and non-involved in the education process. After all, a mere sibling is able to spout off achievements with nearly 100% recollection- that's impressive. And they're taking him out into the community- to McDonalds, to basketball games, out in the rain- so kudos to them. It seems that they're putting forth some effort to make this work.
And we won't talk about how a number of parents (and this goes for the general populous, too) are willing to sit back and let the education system foot the education-of-our-children bill while they stand by pointing fingers. We won't lump these parents in with those that just send their kid to school, hope that they learn something, and then plop them in front of the computer/TV/X-box all night so the house can finally have some peace and quiet. Freaking kids.
And we won't talk about how a number of parents (and this goes for the general populous, too) are willing to sit back and let the education system foot the education-of-our-children bill while they stand by pointing fingers. We won't lump these parents in with those that just send their kid to school, hope that they learn something, and then plop them in front of the computer/TV/X-box all night so the house can finally have some peace and quiet. Freaking kids.
No, instead we're going to take this route- did they ever voice these concerns in a staffing or IEP meeting? Did they ever go, 'You know, George is simply lights out on that DLM card...but, he can't exactly tie his shoes. We should talk to his teacher and treatment team and see if we can have George start working on that'? Maybe they did, but that doesn't seem to be the case- otherwise our finger-pointer surely would have brought it up.
We constantly brought up these issues. Every IEP meeting, every staffing, we even started to document the phone calls we made to the teacher and school administrators, as well as comments made in passing to the aides. All we wanted was for them to actually start working with my brother on skills that would help him in real life.
BUT, nope-they just kept working on that stupid s***.
Not that an IEP is a miracle cure. It's not like sitting down and having some dialogue is going to automatically make things all better. It is, however, a communicative process where the family can ask about progress, and express things that they'd like to see accomplished, after which the team of educators come up with some sort of curriculum/plan to help the student to achieve those objectives. BUT, nope-they just kept working on that stupid s***.
If the family isn't happy with the level of services, they bring that to the attention of the team at the next meeting, the IEP gets tweaked, and they try, try again. Maybe tangible progress is made, maybe not- but at least everybody moves forward having had an open exchange and knowing that everyone was trying to get to the same point.
Instead, some sibling who is probably jealous due to lack of attention decided to type up a cutesy little forward and sent it around to special education departments everywhere, in the hopes that the soft-hearted special education department people would be galvanized into action. Nothing like putting some grease on the squeeky wheel while the car is about to drive off a cliff, right?
I leave with this- the intentions behind this forward, honorable as they might have been, are dangerously misleading. There are many hands in the cookie jar of education, and to think that all of those hands are not equally guilty of stealing the cookies is naive at best, damning at worst. Sure, the educational system is not nearly what it could be, but as long as the anonymous are willing to sit behind their computer screens and fire off passive-aggressive anecdotes and call for teachers' jobs instead of being willing to accept responsibility and look at the whole system (families included), then we're going to keep churning out generations of children that are JUST NOT READY YET!
.
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Pictures:
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Get a Bachelors Degree in Whatever It Was You Could Already Do
This Monday, I start my second job at the elementary school. For those of you not strategically tapped into my brain waves, I'm going to be working in a functional learning skills classroom with children with some pretty severe developmental disabilities. I know it's going to be hard work and there will be many challenging days. Plus I'll still be working at my current job, so I'll be working literally every day of the week (around 60 hours per week in total. Yup. I'm badass). Nonetheless, I'm very excited about this opportunity. Which, given the hopelessness in my job searching since graduation, is no small feat.
It's been a year and a half since I graduated, and the only jobs I've been able to secure are the ones that I could have got with a mere high school education. Don't get me wrong- I've enjoyed most of those jobs. I've had fun, got some nice experience, and met some great people. But it is slightly frustrating to have spent mucho mula to go to college to get jobs that I could have with my trusty high school diploma.
Not that I would give back my college experience for anything. I learned so much about the world I live in, I met a phenomenal group of women that taught me just as much as the professors did (a metric crap-ton), and I got some nice looking trophies to hang on my resume. I got to be the first person in my immediate family to graduate from college and that is an achievement that I do not take lightly. And my children got to see me walk across the stage to receive my degree, so they see that there is some value in hard work and perseverance.
Of course, it's a good thing I learned to persevere so that when I graduated I could find a series of part time jobs to work hard at so we could barely stay afloat. Post college life has been a struggle. Before I got this job at the school, I hadn't been able to find anyone willing to hire me for more than 24 hours a week or $8 an hour (I don't count my time as an AFT because that was like a paid three-month tour of duty in hell). Not from lack of effort- there's just not that much out here in the U.P. I even applied at Target and Wal-Mart! All I got was a 'Thanks but no thanks' e-mail from Target and no call back from Wal-Mart. I guess it was just as depressing for them to think about hiring a 32-year old college graduate as it was for me to think about working there.
I shouldn't take it so personally though. The fact is that more kids are graduating from college today than in the past, and so the field of potential employees for limited jobs is now a much more competitive one (for better and for worse). I didn't get a case manager position at the social service agency I work for now because a couple of other BSWs had applied for the same position. Sure, I have reason to believe that I was the better candidate based on my resume (and my self-affirmation bias) but the reality is that there are more and more people who look like me (just on paper, thank God) in the search for jobs.
The structure of the employment market is different too. Back in the day, you could afford to graduate from high school and get a nice factory job that would pay you good, middle-class money and you could work there for 30 years or whatever and then retire. BOOM. Sure, there were elite jobs that required college, but you could still make a good living without it.
Nowadays, the same hierarchical job structure is there, except that the factory-type job paying middle-class money with benefits has been outsourced to other countries. So the middle and lower jobs saw a shift downwards in the income level, but now you have to spend around $50,000 just to have a chance to get rejected from these lesser jobs. Unless you go to a rich school where you can make some meaningful ($$$) connections.
Even then, in this era of affirmative action and equal hiring policies you see the 'Old boys network' slowly eroding away. Sure, there are places that you can get a job just based on who you know (and the reality is that social networks do play a role in getting many jobs), but it's getting harder and harder to simply cash in a favor for such work. Trust me, I know. I now have a negative favor balance and a restraining order from Shop-ko.
And even though I've had some nice experiences, apparently they haven't been the right ones. In my quest to thrust myself into the upper-lower class, I have found a plethora of jobs that all seem to be looking for this one thing- experience. Unfortunately you need experience to get experience and they won't hire you without experience. It's like a circular logic merry-go-round, and I'm trying to jump on it...except the guy spinning it is the Incredible Hulk.
Say what you will about Occupy Wall Street (I guess really I should just say Occupy X, since prit-near every city has their own Occupy movement now), but the basic premise of the movement is sound. There is a disparity in our society. It's easy to point the finger at poor people and call them lazy or entitled or whatever, but there are people out there who are willing and able to work hard- there just aren't many opportunities to work hard and make a decent living. Yes, my life as an American in poverty is much, much better than most of the poor people (and even some non-poor people) elsewhere in the world. I'm thankful for what I have and for the opportunities that I've been afforded.
But the American Dream wasn't built on the idea that hard work and sacrifice will get you the exact same thing that just doing the bare minimum would. No, that's just what the latest version of it has become.
PS- Since I'll be working around 60 hours per week between my two jobs, I can't promise that my blog will receive the tender love and care that you've come to expect from me. I do hope to update it often enough for it to not fade into oblivion...but I don't know how much energy I'll have at the end of each day, either. Regardless of what happens in the short term, I at http://www.youshouldknowjasonparks.blogspot.com/ am not leaving and will continue to sporadically give you the same level of post quality as I did back when I was a underemployed stay-at-home dad/bum. Which I suppose could be taken as a sign to abandon ship, I don't know.
PIC- https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8a2R8quOv29yPI1rKBRuFk8hWLPhjcmv0BOuQwUmVUBVmc-QOC8lBKg8KKTak-nJQ-1xCKQnJvrGBzlAeoq2NZL8MEKUeh92kj1Ka1crRZbV6QA79x53P_OKh4CePgkTfcoC5gxEtFNsm/s1600/bixby_hulk5.jpg
It's been a year and a half since I graduated, and the only jobs I've been able to secure are the ones that I could have got with a mere high school education. Don't get me wrong- I've enjoyed most of those jobs. I've had fun, got some nice experience, and met some great people. But it is slightly frustrating to have spent mucho mula to go to college to get jobs that I could have with my trusty high school diploma.
Not that I would give back my college experience for anything. I learned so much about the world I live in, I met a phenomenal group of women that taught me just as much as the professors did (a metric crap-ton), and I got some nice looking trophies to hang on my resume. I got to be the first person in my immediate family to graduate from college and that is an achievement that I do not take lightly. And my children got to see me walk across the stage to receive my degree, so they see that there is some value in hard work and perseverance.
Of course, it's a good thing I learned to persevere so that when I graduated I could find a series of part time jobs to work hard at so we could barely stay afloat. Post college life has been a struggle. Before I got this job at the school, I hadn't been able to find anyone willing to hire me for more than 24 hours a week or $8 an hour (I don't count my time as an AFT because that was like a paid three-month tour of duty in hell). Not from lack of effort- there's just not that much out here in the U.P. I even applied at Target and Wal-Mart! All I got was a 'Thanks but no thanks' e-mail from Target and no call back from Wal-Mart. I guess it was just as depressing for them to think about hiring a 32-year old college graduate as it was for me to think about working there.
I shouldn't take it so personally though. The fact is that more kids are graduating from college today than in the past, and so the field of potential employees for limited jobs is now a much more competitive one (for better and for worse). I didn't get a case manager position at the social service agency I work for now because a couple of other BSWs had applied for the same position. Sure, I have reason to believe that I was the better candidate based on my resume (and my self-affirmation bias) but the reality is that there are more and more people who look like me (just on paper, thank God) in the search for jobs.
The structure of the employment market is different too. Back in the day, you could afford to graduate from high school and get a nice factory job that would pay you good, middle-class money and you could work there for 30 years or whatever and then retire. BOOM. Sure, there were elite jobs that required college, but you could still make a good living without it.
Nowadays, the same hierarchical job structure is there, except that the factory-type job paying middle-class money with benefits has been outsourced to other countries. So the middle and lower jobs saw a shift downwards in the income level, but now you have to spend around $50,000 just to have a chance to get rejected from these lesser jobs. Unless you go to a rich school where you can make some meaningful ($$$) connections.
Even then, in this era of affirmative action and equal hiring policies you see the 'Old boys network' slowly eroding away. Sure, there are places that you can get a job just based on who you know (and the reality is that social networks do play a role in getting many jobs), but it's getting harder and harder to simply cash in a favor for such work. Trust me, I know. I now have a negative favor balance and a restraining order from Shop-ko.
And even though I've had some nice experiences, apparently they haven't been the right ones. In my quest to thrust myself into the upper-lower class, I have found a plethora of jobs that all seem to be looking for this one thing- experience. Unfortunately you need experience to get experience and they won't hire you without experience. It's like a circular logic merry-go-round, and I'm trying to jump on it...except the guy spinning it is the Incredible Hulk.
 |
| And he's drinking what looks to be Campells Grape-flavored soup. Must have been a '70's thing... |
But the American Dream wasn't built on the idea that hard work and sacrifice will get you the exact same thing that just doing the bare minimum would. No, that's just what the latest version of it has become.
PS- Since I'll be working around 60 hours per week between my two jobs, I can't promise that my blog will receive the tender love and care that you've come to expect from me. I do hope to update it often enough for it to not fade into oblivion...but I don't know how much energy I'll have at the end of each day, either. Regardless of what happens in the short term, I at http://www.youshouldknowjasonparks.blogspot.com/ am not leaving and will continue to sporadically give you the same level of post quality as I did back when I was a underemployed stay-at-home dad/bum. Which I suppose could be taken as a sign to abandon ship, I don't know.
PIC- https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8a2R8quOv29yPI1rKBRuFk8hWLPhjcmv0BOuQwUmVUBVmc-QOC8lBKg8KKTak-nJQ-1xCKQnJvrGBzlAeoq2NZL8MEKUeh92kj1Ka1crRZbV6QA79x53P_OKh4CePgkTfcoC5gxEtFNsm/s1600/bixby_hulk5.jpg
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