SOLSC #4: How much do we need one another?

I am participating in the
March 2018 Slice of Life Story Challenge (SOLSC).
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, every day for thirty-one days.

A big thank you to Two Writing Teachers for providing this unique opportunity

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

I am thinking about how much we need one another as teachers, how essential it is to have colleagues who can let you vent, let you share about something, give you another set of hands or eyes, offer a new perspective. Just this past week, a quick conversation in the staff room gave me fresh insight, a new technique, a whole new approach. 

This little girl, she is so so so challenging. She doesn't have words when things don't go her way. So, instead, big tantrums occur. Chairs are tossed. Toys are thrown. Pictures, signs, posters are torn down from the wall.

I'm pretty good at preventing. I'm pretty good at deciphering just what might set her off, and how we might adjust the routine and our interactions with her, so that she is more successful. I am working closely with the family; I have sought insight from speech professionals; and I have had folks in to observe her. The reality with a young child, the preschool year is often the start of interventions...this is a process that is just beginning. In the meanwhile, we love her dearly and are helping her find her words.

Even so, the tantrums have been ratcheting up.

My colleagues see me with her, know the challenges I am having, and often help me in the moment. This one morning, after I had soothed my little friend after another tantrum outburst, I slipped into the staff room to get more hot water for my tea, and said to a colleague, "Wow, it's only 10 am, and I am already worn. More tea needed!" She had just helped me the day before with this little girl and she said, "Does it seem like she is having tantrums for everything, whether big or small? It's as if she doesn't want you to speak for her." I said, "Oh, yes, she is having many more tantrums. You are right," and I walked away.

That phrase, "...she doesn't want you to speak for her" wove through the recesses of my mind all day long and into the night. First thing in the morning, my eyes opened wide.


She doesn't want us to speak for her.
She doesn't want us to THINK for her.
She realizes she doesn't have agency.
She doesn't want her friends to misunderstand her.
She doesn't want teachers to soothe her.
It's actually a sign that she is more engaged in the classroom.
It's actually a sign that she is determined to interact with her classmates and teachers.
SHE WANTS TO COMMUNICATE AND CANNOT.
SHE IS VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY FRUSTRATED.

Oh my goodness.

I have gotten so consumed by the work of her that I forgot to notice her hard work.

It is NOT "she has to stop having tantrums and learn to take five deep cleansing breaths," it is she has to learn how to say "I want...", "I need...", "I like...", "I have...", and know she is being heard and not simply directed.

When oral language is missing, let's give her sign language. That very day, our school therapist shared with me the hand motions for "I want!" and all that day I jumped to her side and said, "I want!" with the hand signs, as she struggled in relationships with her peers, filling in the noun as needed.

I saw her body relax.

The tantrums aren't gone,
but there is a softening, an understanding, a hopefulness.

Thanks to insight from a colleague.