saving that one kid

This year I have at least 4-8 students with special needs in each class. The numbers have drastically risen over the last few years. We have what we call personal plans in place that the Inclusive Education department make available to teachers. These plans have various information such as diagnosis/es and recommendations for aiding the student in learning such as extra time to complete tasks, visual tools to accompany teaching, repeated instructions, chunking information etc.

But it takes time to get to know kids. By the time we have assessment due in weeks 6-8, and have a chance to actually evaluate the level of the student, much time has passed. With the pressure of curriculum requirements, teachers have little time to ‘waste’ other than on ensuring that the outcomes are met and necessary scaffolding information and skill sets taught to ensure students have a fair chance of accessing the curriculum and passing.

In every class, there are also students who are not diagnosed and therefore have no personal plan in place. Somehow we’re getting students in these higher years, that can’t even read (we had 2 last year in year 10). Our wonderful IE department as well as the ‘junior’ teachers are doing all they can but uncooperative parents who don’t wish to admit their child has learning difficulties are impeding not just our efforts, but the very future of their own children. These kids then of course act out. They hold beliefs that they’re stupid because they can’t keep up with the other students in their cohort. In turn they have no option but to either stay away from school (avoiders- aided by parental consent) or behavioural problem children who play the class clown and try to disrupt the learning of others. They see no value in education because ejucashun ain’t doin’ them no good.

These students take up valuable class time. They disrupt the rhythm of lesson teaching, distract other students and often press every button available to infuriate the teacher. Of course we have an arsenal of disciplinary tactics but have to run the gamut with each child before hitting on the right procedure for this particular kid. And we’re only human. Sometimes our compassion and professionalism is in short supply- sometimes we don’t get enough sleep, have personal problems, feel overwhelmed… and don’t reach the bar to which we aspire in all five lessons of every day.

While it’s the most rewarding of jobs, it’s also one of the most taxing. After the advent of Covid and home schooling, the world is finally beginning to see that educator is one of the most stressful jobs. It’s fast paced, unpredictable, highly variable (from a year 7 to 12 class, maths to Humanities lesson…) and requires something in the region of 1000 decisions a day to be made. And don’t forget we do it not for the money, but because we care. Like most undervalued vocations, people will always be attracted to the profession because it draws people who have high compassion and drive to help. These attributes are also stressors because we are driven to go above and beyond. And children’s lives MATTER.

Add into the mix that every year, there’s a couple of kids that we all know are in dire danger of not just falling through the cracks, but failing in life altogether. Those kids with highly challenging home lives and physical and mental disabilities or difficulties. Together with the onset of hormones, it becomes the perfect storm – a plunge into extreme behaviours and negative thinking.

All teachers want to ‘save’ this kid. We all do our best. You see these emotionally charged movies where some brave teacher goes out of their way to ‘save’ this troubled kid and moments of enlightenment hit the kid as the teacher imparts great wisdom that finally hits home and they walk off into the sunset with the kids future looking rosy and the teacher satisfied by a life saved… cue fade out.

They’re great movies no doubt, some based on true stories and really, that’s fantastic. But do you realise the reality of this endeavour? The long hours required of spending time with this kid, building trust and mutual respect, the dedication to consistency… The reality is that teachers are so time challenged that we have little time to spend on this one kid. We are teaching up to six classes with 25 or so kids in each. We have administrative obligations (ad nauseum), programs to formulate, evaluations to do, marking, reading, our own study and refining- it’s a highly cerebral job- and it’s not just that one kid in our class, but sometimes 8 that need our special attention. Not that all 8 are at risk but they do add to our workload and reservoir of concern.

It’s a fine balance too- we have obligations to our profession and protocols to adhere to. We are constantly under scrutiny (particularly if you’re a male) and are discouraged in spending ‘alone’ time with a student. Of course that’s right, but when else do you have time to talk to the troubled teenager, other than during out of class time? We have these talks in glassed rooms with the door open for all to see. We sometimes have to bring a witness into the room for our own protection. We become spur of the moment counsellors when a student admits thoughts of suicide or depression. Of course we hand it on to appropriate authorities, but in that moment of personal revelation, you hold the power to reinforce or reverse their thoughts by your fumbled words of solace and encouragement to see the world differently than they’re currently entertaining.

At the extreme, we hear whispered words of ‘we locked the cat in a cage for a few days because he was naughty’ and ‘I stood on the chicken’s neck and it stopped moving’. We smell cigarette smoke on children’s clothing (not their smoking) and know they’re being tirelessly ridiculed by classmates because they stink. We feed the kids who come to school with a hastily grabbed brown paper bag of chips for lunch, having had no breakfast either. We watch in horror as mum smacked out of her head drives her children home and mandatory reporting seems to have done nothing to help out these kids. And we quietly wait for our own school shooting from the kids we tried to help but the system and parents failed.

And when everything manages to come together, we miraculously do find time enough to ‘save’ that kid and let them know it’s not them, that they’re loved and lovable and when we all work together, something wonderful happens and the kid finds some sort of niche in the world. We all breathe a sigh of relief and remember all the lousy hours in class and at home, doing battle with that kid, worrying about that kid, networking for that kid, counselling that kid, hours spent talking to mum/dad about that kid. And they have finally made it through. Cue tears.

It does indeed take a village to raise a child.

And sometimes that one teacher to start the ball rolling.