Crash!
The chair flew across the room - followed by a stream of
expletives.
“I hate this @$%@#$%$% school!”
Smash!
Books and papers were swept to the floor.
“I $%@%$#$ hate this place!”
The teacher was surprised. Such outbursts, once common, had
become rare and had trailed away to almost never. Until today.
Once such behaviours had been common – almost daily
events. “Matty” was known to have issues
– but not a diagnosis. His unwillingness
to co-operate in the school setting had become legendary and his refusal to
co-operate with the school psychologists and support staff had resulted in the
lack of even a label to describe his behaviours. His physical issues were also
obvious – but he would not co-operate with the optometrists either so the
glasses he clearly needed could not be obtained. He was on the case list of many departmental
officials – but on the case load of none.
That changed when he met this year’s teacher. She made contact – more than that – she
established a relationship with his parents. She tactically ignored the “small
stuff”. She differentiated his
experiences in the classroom – and ensured that other staff did too. When
things went wrong – and they did, frequently – she was unblinking in her
defence of him. She disregarded rumours
and insisted of facts. When he did wrong he got the same consequence as anyone
else – but no worse. She insisted that departmental staff revisit and find
other ways to help this child. She did
not want a diagnosis, or a label, she just wanted techniques that would help
him. She even provided him with food when he was hungry.
Slowly, step by pain
staking step, progress was made. “Matty”
learned first the letters of his name and then how to write them – a massive
step that had not been achieved in the previous years of his schooling. He
learnt to recognise the basic numerals and then how they indicated numbers –
which he began to learn to manipulate. He learnt to recognise money – and how
to use it. He still did not have a meaningful score on any recognised test or
assessment – but he was able to demonstrate that he was capable. In fact, he
occasionally stunned staff with some of his efforts – such as when he made a
cave in the classroom and angled a reflective surface precisely so that it
provided natural light inside his cave.
But thoughts of his progress were blown away by this latest
unexpected outburst. It was nearly the end of the school year and he had made
so much headway – and now this. What had
prompted it?
“I’m not going to $%$%@#$% grade 5!” he screamed. “I’m not @$%#@$% going!”
And then the answer became clear.
“Why not mate?” his teacher quietly asked. His answer brought a tear to her eye.
“No-one is going to love me there.”
I would have loved to have been present when he found out
who was going to teach him again the following year. A most perceptive
principal had recognised the relationship and the two – teacher and student –
would again share a classroom the following year. And I don’t know who was happier about it –
“Matty” or his teacher.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Matty” may never learn as much as his peers. He may never
even get a score on a formalised test. But it seems to me that he already knows
what is truly important in life. I just hope we have the wisdom to learn from
him.
~~~~~~~~~~
Post Script.
Some years later "Matty" met his teacher again in a supermarket. Now in High School, Matty pushed her shopping trolley around for her while and had a chat about what had happened in his life. There was more than one "Special" in the supermarket that day.
Credits:
Image via Google images - here.