So… yeah… the new job. Wow.
Having worked in middle school Special Education for three years, I kind of figured I’d seen a good portion of what happens in the “Adaptive” education classes. Screaming fits, thrown objects, outbursts of eyebrow singeing proportions, and simply genuine out-of-control behavior. These were special needs kids who didn’t have a better way to communicate. I get that, I’ve had days when I envied their ability to just let it all hang out.
I changed diapers, hand fed breakfast and lunch, and attempted to coax some kind of academics out of my students. I liked it, but after too many lifts from a wheelchair, my shoulder had had enough and I had to shuffle off to a different program. HR said, “we have something at an elementary school, are you interested?” Sounded good to me. Smaller kids, no lifting 120 lbs from wheelchair to changing table.
“I’m in,” I said.
“Ok, your new assignment is in the AB room.”
“Wait, not special ed?”
“No, this is a new program.” She told me the name of the teacher I’d be working with and I jumped at it.
“Awesome! I’ve worked with him briefly before and he’s wonderful. Thanks.”
AB stands for Adaptive Behavior. That’s not what I call it, but we’ll go with the official title, m’kay?
Three days of school. That’s all we’ve had so far, three days. In that time I’ve had a student accuse me of being a female canine of low intelligence, remind me that my derriere is on the large side, insinuate that I perform incestuous acts with my maternal parent, and my favorite, informing me and the rest of the people in the room (including my new principal) that my female genitalia move rapidly in a strong breeze. Either that or when I walk, I’m not sure. It was hard to listen after the first part because laughing is not an appropriate response to such behavior from a student. All I could say was, “Ok, but you still have to do your math.”
But damn, it was funny. So, it either flaps in the wind or when I walk. I never realized it, but then my hearing is so damaged from the previous assignment that I probably just never noticed it.
Well, if the first three days are any indication of what I’m in for, it’s going to be an interesting year. I have a feeling that by the end of my time at this job, on my last day, if any student calls me “bitch,” I’ll probably just look at them and say, “That’s Ms. Bitch to you, kiddo.”
I don't know how you do it, but thank you. These kids need this and it's cool that you can have a sense of humor about it.
ReplyDeleteI'll have to listen the next time I'm walking if mine flaps in the wind too.
@_@
ReplyDeleteUm, wow... You are either a saint or crazy as a shit-house rat... or maybe a bit of both? o_O
Seriously, though, you are an amazing person for being able to put up with that and do it with humor. ^-^ Those kids are lucky to have you. And at least the insults show there's a creative mind in that kid's head... for better or worse.
Good luck this year!
XOXO
Redhead, thanks. There are days it is difficult to find the humor, but then I just need to walk across the room and listen. I still can't hear it, but then my hearing isn't that great any more. :)
ReplyDeleteDuchess, I'm no saint. A saint would do this work for free, I'm totally in it for the paycheck and benefits. And to learn new insults. :) Thanks for the luck, I'm going to need it.
It's possible mine might flap in the wind too. LOL. One of the best ways to approach the work you do is with a sense of humour (probably true of any kind of work, actually...) and you have that in spades. Good on you for doing it - you are helping so many kids!
ReplyDeleteSelma... LOL!!! Yes, the sense of humor is the only thing to have in that class. My teacher has a GREAT one and the three of us get along really well. But the other para and I are still learning, which is hard when things get scary, and they get scary a lot.
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