Jingle Bells and Joy...

The week before Christmas was a great week in Room 10.  Caveat: This is not a blanket statement. We still had tantrums, the room got trashed on more than one occasion, we had staff injuries, student injuries, several destroyed books (my pet peeve!) and a near-disastrous incident with a Christmas tree in the hallway. Despite all that, this week had moments that simply glowed, and although it’s taken me some time to get to it, I wanted to share them...

One very cool thing that has happened is that back in November, I spoke at our staff meeting about my class, introducing the kids to everyone.  It was something that was way overdue, but nice to finally get done.  Because we are out and about in the hallways, integrated with other classes for outdoor play and such, I wanted the rest of the staff to be aware of my kids’ triggers, behaviours and personalities, so that they could share with their students, partly to keep everyone safe from some of the aggressive behaviours, but mostly so that they could greet and interact with my kids when they had the chance. Following the meeting, one of our Grade Two teachers invited me up to talk to her kids about my class, and the kids were fascinated – they had lots of great questions about my students, and almost all of them volunteered to be Play Buddies. Their teacher set up a rotation of volunteers, 2-3 at a time, to come down to my room during activity times and interact with my students – a great opportunity for all the kids involved.  Some of them are more natural at it than others, of course, but all of our buddies have been open and wonderful, and some of my kids are really enjoying the attention and interaction from their new friends.

Also, my amazing husband has been coming in every week to do “Guitar Time” with my kids. It’s not an understatement to say that they LOVE this – many of my kids have an affinity for music, and they eagerly gather and sit on the carpet to “sing along” with The ABC Song, The Ants Go Marching and The Hokey Pokey.  It’s a 20 minute slice of guaranteed calm and fun in an unpredictable week, and I think my staff and I enjoy it as much as the kids do!

As December rolled around, I decided that I wanted my class to participate in the school holiday concert. As with most things this year, it was going to be a complete gamble.  A change in routine, an unfamiliar location (the gym stage), and an audience full of people – strange noises, smells, sights – it could be a perfect recipe for disaster for my kids. Besides, I was pretty sure none of my kids had ever participated in a school concert, but I was determined – Room 10 is a place of opportunity, and as far as I could see, participating in the concert was another great step.

My plan was to try and make the concert as stress-free for my kids as possible – to try and create some familiarity despite the changes required to pull it off.  I decided on Frosty the Snowman and Jingle Bells – most of my kids don’t celebrate Christmas, but I figured those were two “festive” choices that everyone could enjoy. We added them to our regular guitar time, invited some of our Play Buddies to come and sing with us, and borrowed a bin full of jingle bells from the music room so that the kids could play along, even if they weren’t singing.

I met with the music teacher, and we juggled around details – where to put us in the program, what we would need onstage. I sent notes home to the parents, explaining what we were planning. When my husband turned out to have a gig on the night of the concert, I panicked briefly, and then asked another teacher who plays guitar if he could fill in for us – no problem! The day before the concert, he came down on his recess to play through the songs with us, and the kids didn’t miss a beat. I was incredibly grateful.

The day of the concert, we had an afternoon dress rehearsal. It was supposed to be at 1pm.  Then at 1:20.  Finally at 1:45, it got started. We moved ourselves into the change room to wait for our turn, all of our staff on high alert – needlessly. The kids were brilliant – they waited patiently, interacting with the other kids who were there waiting, and when our turn came, everyone made it onstage without a hitch – no panic, no meltdowns.  We got ourselves settled, our buddies joined us, and off we went – Jingle Bells first, followed by Frosty.  There was not a blip. Every one of my kids was engaged – sitting nicely, playing their jingle bells and looking out into the crowd.  I saw our custodian in the audience wiping her eyes, and when the entire school joined in singing with us, it was a darn good thing they did, because I was suddenly so choked up I could barely see, let alone sing. It could not have gone any better.

When the evening rolled around, I held my breath.  Could it possibly go just as well twice? It could. All of the kids showed up on time. They participated beautifully. The audience sang along, and the parents were thrilled to have their kids participate. I truly could not have asked for more out of the experience for them, or for myself – it was a gamble that paid off in every way!

As one final update for 2011 (even though it’s already gone!), the Sensory Room is still moving along. That $600 blacklight installation? It happened.  I must have an angel on the shoulder of the principal of Special Programs, because I arrived one morning to find it up. And then it came down, because the “safety cover” on the light diffused the blacklight so that it didn’t work.  And then, after weeks of back-and-forth, it went back up, using my original $100 fixture, with a cage over top.  Which is what we had asked for in the first place. Sigh... Who cares? It’s up, it works, and the neon carpet tiles have been ordered to go with it – yay! Thanks to the expensive installation done by Special Ed, it now turns on an off via a switch located outside the room... I’m sure that will come in handy at some point!

Finally, in the last week of school, my principal came running to find me... more angels afoot!  One of the superintendents at the field office had heard me on CBC back in the spring, and instead of buying Christmas gifts for all his office people, he wanted to make a donation in their honour to our room. Mirror ball kit and Aromatherapy set – check and check! I strongly suspect his head secretary, who was our school secretary for many years, had something to do with this, and I shake my head yet again at the amazing good fortune I have to be surrounded by such love and support from so many people – it is truly overwhelming.  We are within $3000 of our end goal for the room, and 2012 is sure hold new adventures for Room 10... Happy New Year, and stay tuned!

An Open Door Means Walk... and other discoveries

One of the things I've discovered in the past three weeks is that while the challenging moments may be long and the joyful moments may be short, their length does not necessarily equal their value.

My youngest little buddy is only 6, and is what we call "a wanderer". He doesn't show any particular interest in anything - his only "affinity", as we call them, is throwing things. Not in anger, he just likes to throw things. Enjoys the sensation of the throw, I suspect from watching him, and because he had no real sense of cause and effect, he doesn't really care what he throws - he's just as happy throwing a beanbag up in the air over and over as he is tossing books, toys and anything else left lying about. His first week with us, he wouldn't set foot in the sensory room. He'd peek in from the door, but that was it. Last week, one of my team managed to coax him in by encouraging him to push the buttons an change the colours on the bubble tube. This week, he'd wander in and out of the room, never staying long. Tuesday, he actually came over to where I was sitting and touched the bubble tube, repeatedly, and then suddenly sat beside me and leaned his forehead against mine and smiled, for about 5 seconds. I was beyond thrilled. It happened twice more, as he wandered in and out of the room through the open door. Fleeting, precious moments of connection.

On Wednesday, my new Speech and Language Pathologist stopped by for a visit in the afternoon, and somehow ended up in the sensory room with me, as we tried to entice this little guy to come in and engage with us while I described him to her. He had wandered in and out several times, until one of the other students shut the door to the room. Instead of trying to let himself out, this little guy proceeded to sit on the floor and "play" with us for the next 4 minutes or so - clapping, smiling, making funny noises back and forth and interacting beautifully. When someone again opened the door, he immediately stood up and left. We shrugged and figured that was the end of our playtime, but we pleased with the interaction we'd had, and we left the little room and headed back into the larger classroom to continue our discussion and observe the other students. Only a minute later, one of my team said in alarm "What's wrong with ***?" We looked over to the carpet and found our happy, smiling little friend rocking himself with tears running down his face. Confused, we pointed out that he had been fine a moment ago, and encouraged one of my team to take him back into the sensory room. She did, shutting the door, and when we peeked in moments later, we saw him happily interacting with her, as well. Weird...

Several minutes later, another student wandered into the sensory room, leaving the door open, and out popped our little friend once more, only to go immediately back to the carpet, sit down and start crying again. We quickly shooed him back into the room with an adult and shut the door, and my SLP looked at me in amazement. "Motor Planning", she said. Pardon?

“To him, an open door means move.  He likely doesn’t have the motor planning to see the door and think “No, I don’t want to leave where I am”, and to physically stay where he is. To him, an open door means go.  Which is also why he wanders.  No boundaries, no motor planning to stay put.” Would I EVER have figured that out on my own??? Holy moly...

The next day, we deliberately sent him into the room to play with someone, and opened the door after a few minutes.  Sure enough, he popped right up to leave, but I gently turned him around at the door and sent him back in, leaving the door open a few moments more before closing it again.  Three times we did this, and finally on the fourth, he DIDN’T GET UP WHEN THE DOOR OPENED.  It was like the heavens opened up and light streamed into the room – I had managed to accomplish something meaningful with this child! He continued to sit and play until I closed the door again, but when I opened it the fifth time, he popped up again and headed toward the door. Sigh...

This time, however, he vocalized and resisted my turning him back, indicating that he really DID want to leave the room, and when I let him out, he went happily to wander about the room, without any sadness this time.

Now, suffice to say I’m pretty sure this won’t magically eliminate his need to wander about, but it does give us valuable information for working with him. Work in a confined space if you want him to stay on task. Give him a chair with arms and a weighted lap mat if you want him to sit.  Theories, really, at this point, but theories are better than nothing to start from, which is where we were last week.

Other little miracles included playing a turn-taking card game with one of my girls, who doesn’t like toys and is hard to entertain during free time. The cards had fruits on them. And Dora.  Let’s not forget Dora, which was the only reason she agreed to sit with me in the first place. J  But she played the whole game, and asked to play again.  She also loves the finger song “Three Little Monkeys” – the one with the crocodile.  Thanks for that little gem, Mom – she asks for it every day.  And when I do cartwheels out on the playground, she giggles her brains out and asks for more.  I get dizzy, but it’s so worth it.

We had a dance party with another of my girls this week – there was some upbeat world beat playing and we all danced around and laughed at each other. Ok, it was mostly my team and I dancing and her laughing at us, but whatever...

On Thursday, I got my big boy to play math games on the computer with me.  Under duress, initially, because it wasn’t his Jimmy Neutron DVD being played and he wasn’t thrilled with that, but after a few clicks he caught on to the game and finished it willingly. He rarely does any work willingly. Score.

Finally, on Friday afternoon, we all worked. Together.  Every kid and every adult in the room were working on the same thing (a picture recipe for chocolate oatmeal cookies that we’re making Monday), at the same time, and everyone was enjoying themselves. Explaining the ingredients in the pictures, doing the sign language, talking about the cookies, glueing the pictures onto the shopping list.  It lasted for about 5 minutes.  It was amazing. It was joyful.  I looked up briefly and took a mental picture, to store away and pull out when the longer, harder moments are getting me down. THIS is what I had in mind when I took over this class.

We have amazing moments in Room 10 – every day.  The trick is to capture those moments, to hold onto them, to strive for them, and to forgive ourselves when they seem few and far between.  Just because they’re small doesn’t mean they’re not mighty as hell... J