The Good Calls

I got a phone call from a student this afternoon -- well, she's not quite a student. She was in my room during the California High School Exit Exam (CAHSEE) test back in February. She has otherwise completed her graduation requirements (I'm not sure if this is her 5th year or if she finished everything else up early), and just needed to pass the ELA CAHSEE. She showed up late (since she isn't enrolled in school), but I talked to her a little bit, gave her some encouragement, and then sat in the room until she finished her test.

Afterwards, she came up to me and asked if she could come talk to me about what she should study in order to pass. I had her come by my room the next day after school, and I went over her previous test's results and told her what she should work on. Then, I got her phone number so I could call and remind her about the next test administration.

I called her a week before the next test date, but I didn't hear back from her and I didn't see her in my testing room. (I have so few students left to take the test, I usually get all the overflow students like her.)

Well, she called me today about the message I left her more than a month ago. She had been in Mexico, and so she wasn't around to take the test. I asked her if she had gotten her score report, and she told me she hadn't. I told her I was pretty sure that she had passed. She was incredulous.

"No, really," I told her. "I'm pretty sure I saw you passed, but let me double-check."

"Ms. Scott, don't say that if you don't mean it. You mean I'll be able to graduate?"

"Yes. I'm looking at the score report right now. You scored a 357. You passed."

I love that moment. I love especially when I get to be the one to tell them. Their joy and sense of accomplishment is palpable. She kept on thanking me for helping her. I reminded her that she did the work and earned it herself. But she passed, and I can't wait to see her at graduation.

Let It Happen, Boys

I was spending some quality time with one of my worst blocks in the computer lab, working on our research papers. "Why worst?" you ask? Well, because as a whole they have the lowest rates of attendance, achievement, and desire. Add on top of that a really high rate of Sped students (which does nothing to bring up the non-sped, but chronically lazy or thoughtfully-challenged students -- by "thoughtfully-challenged" I mean a chronic resistance to independent thinking, not an inability) and you get a challenging blocks.

Well, a (sped) student from another class came in to tell me he was going to the library to work on his paper. And then he came back, because all the library computers were in use. This particular student is capable, but definitely has behavior issues -- and he knows it. He's spazzy, sure, but he also has some anger management issues. This morning he said he just felt like punching someone. Just because.

But, since I'm a sweetie, when he asked if he could use a computer with my class, I agreed. Of course, he spent a lot of time chatting with his friends. He was getting some work done, although not as much as I might have wished. And then.

And then.

He looked at what his friend was doing. "What?" he exclaimed! "Where are your papers? Where are your notes? What are you working on?" I just sat back and listened and smiled. He then started to walk his friend through the process of writing a research paper. (If this student has issues, he also has supports from the awesome sped department. The Friend has issues, but doesn't qualify for any support; Friend has poor attendance and low interest and probably a lot more going on.) I couldn't do or say anything better than what my interloper is doing. He's taking over my role. I love it!

Interloper came over and asked me for the handouts that Friend didn't have. Then came back over and asked me to please explain them in more detail because he forgot.

I can't buy that kind of advertising. And I just loved listening to it. For all the goofing off that Interloper did, I think he contributed a lot to class today.

Blankie

My students have to write a research paper. A six-page research paper. Needless to say, they are petrified and dragging their feet and making their lives even more miserable. In an attempt to help them out, I hold an after-school "tutorial" in the computer lab on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

The thing is, they don't really need me. Most of them come in and ask me one question, and then work on their own. They don't even need me there to use the lab -- they can use it without a teacher sitting there. But, it seems, they like knowing that I'm there, just in case. Just in case the computer explodes or the Internet crashes or they can't remember their names. It's cute.

They would never admit it, but I am their research-paper security blanket.

It's the Small Things

The rumors are flying that my school will be changing up its Sped policy next year. Instead of resource classes and pull-out/push-in services, they're talking about going full-on co-teaching. Of course, there is no plan in place, no one has talked about training, and no one has talked about funding. It all might be a wash when the district hears about it or it could be a big disaster because (like so many well-intentioned educational initiatives *coughNCLBcough*) is will not be properly planned or supported.

And of course, there has been no official word. I only know about it because I make a habit of talking to my Special Ed teachers -- Lord knows they help me out.

Today, I got a phone call from one of my Spedlies. She asked if I had heard anything in a department meeting about it all. She was trying to figure out who she would like to teach teach with if English is going to be one of the classes on the list.

In case the implication isn't obvious, she thought I would be a great person to team teach with.

I've said it before, but I'll say it again: I appreciate the support and props I get from my colleagues far more than anything an administrator writes down on a piece of paper. It's the opinion of the people on the front lines there with me that I truly value.