Tuesday, January 23, 2018

On Bearing Down

Tuesday, January 23, 2018

7:54 p.m.

Now we all play
We’re the moth to the flame
We were aware of the danger
But we could not look away
My eyes are open

--Typhoon

Mental exhaustion can bring the body to a grinding halt; as I sat at the table and watched my hands slowly cradle my head, fingers caressing temples, I knew this to be true. I rose at 5:15 and the time clock whirred its digital clunk at 5:52. Fifteen minutes in silent meditation was all the morning would allow; students arrive at 9:30.


When working with people who experience life vastly different from you, one has two choices: give yourself over completely to their needs, or fail.  Some days, however, a teacher can let go of ego to the fullest extent of their ability and still not get deep enough inside the mind of a student. The pain of those days is akin to childbirth in that, those who experience the suffering quickly forget so they will continue the work which it wrought.   

Monday, January 22, 2018

On How to Kindle Passion in the Work

Monday, January 22, 2018

5:44 p.m.

By Dad, hope you have a good time writing. 

I'm beginning to stretch a bit at work, finally. The adjustments I asked for in November have been made and the 13 days of work since the new year have played out much as I envisioned, aside from the inherent unpredictability of the work. Students were arriving prior to the arrival of much of my staff, whose hours also called for them to leave before the students left for the day. Inherent pitfalls were twofold:  the ability of the staff to collaborate was severely impaired and team members were forced to jump onto a moving train of spastic behavior.  This was alright for my aides who understand the constantly evolving needs of our student, but for those new to the worlds of special needs and mental health the learning curve is long, slow, and likely daunting.   Training new staff, directly in the classroom, on the inner workings, shifting needs, nuances, communication styles, and learning modalities of people with Autism and Intellectual disabilities is, without question, one of the most challenging metal slaloms a teacher can perform. 

However, the most important thing a new team member can do to support students is watch a teacher’s nuances in communication with each student. Studies suggest that only 7% of communication is verbal.  That leaves a lot a room for nuance, which can only be learned after prolonged exposure to a person.  Assistants who emulate teachers who have spent this time with students are much more equipped to serve and more likely to view days not as “Good” or “Bad” but as days of learning in which more tools are added to the box. 

My new assistant (the first granted request) has proven extraordinary at noting nuance.  There is very little time during the day in which her student, with whom she works in a one-to-one capacity, does not require attention.  It is also the case that verbal communication is not this student’s most effective mode of communication.  As a result, nuance in the student’s communication style is vital in our work with him.  After spending weeks as the student’s one-to-one aide, I was prepared to share all I had learned with anyone who would listen; my new aide has proven to be the right person.

The program’s new hours (one hour less at the beginning of the day) has been equally as powerful as obtaining a new aide.  During that hour, the team is able to debrief, share insight from the previous day, discuss any new protocols, and address student needs and behaviors. As the classroom teacher (there is only one teacher in the district that serves this population), this hour also grants the opportunity to educate the staff on methods of working with young people in a class that has the widest disparity of needs I have ever seen.  Understanding that a workday cannot be filled with only talk of work, I am beginning to also use this time to learn two minutes more about their lives; I enjoy hearing their stories. 

Those two components, one hour of collaborative time with staff and an aide for my neediest student, have altered my outlook on and approach to the work.  The staff enjoys the time spent adjusting today based our understanding of yesterday, and I am afforded the flexibility to tend to an ever expanding and dynamic caseload. 


Asking for that which one needs to better do the work they want to do is a critical step in renewing a passion hindered by arbitrary boundaries erected by money and ignorance.  If the boundaries are not lifted the work is impeded and the passion loses its brilliance. 

On Recovery, Part II


Sunday, January 21, 2018

4:30 p.m.

Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea

Joy to you and me

--Three Dog Night


Mood is to disposition as weather is to climate.





Saturday, January 20, 2018

On Recovery


Saturday, January 20, 2018

12:29 p.m.



Dad, I had every single 10!

I didn't realize I wasn't well until very recently. While there was never a moment that went by in which I wasn't questioning what I had just done or said, I never directly connected those feelings with depression. Though I had, at times, used the word to describe a mood, the global nature of my condition was still unknown. Anxiety, depression's younger sibling, was a word that I more commonly understood.
The social settings that brought me the most acute perturbation were those in which small groups of people had already gathered, only moments ago strangers. As soon as the words would spew from my mouth I'd recoil, stomach and neck muscles constricting. The problem, from my present lens, was twofold but without hierarchy. I would attempt to impress my interlocutor with ideas and stories loosely based on what they had been talking about, then wildly direct the conversation into unexpected territories.  A spastic ejaculation of verbal, immature milt. Being aware of the uncomfortable place in which I had placed myself, I would then lose grip on the signals my brain would send to my mouth, and in place of words I would revert to exaggerated nods and look for a quick escape. Having a minor panic attack each time you open your mouth has a way of perpetuating the practice of negative self-talk.