Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Disability has made me a better teacher.

One of the most difficult times to think about revealing my disability to strangers is when I am trying to make a good first impression. These impressions are fleeting. Sometimes it's in the course of the conversation. Sometimes it's just in passing. I'm thinking about this now, because it is interview season for the coming school year. Someday soon I will be sitting across the table from complete strangers who want to know more about my strengths than my weaknesses. Fortunately, I'm not filling out applications by hand. Most of this can be done online, using my foot mouse and voice software. I will print out copies of my resume and letter of introduction, and various portfolio-type items. They are not going to ask me to demonstrate my penmanship writing on a whiteboard, or take a typing test to see how fast I type. In fact, it would be illegal for them to ask me if I have any disabilities. However, I also feel it would be unethical for me to go through the entire process of an interview without at least revealing a little bit about my unique situation. This is what I tell them. I'm better than average at incorporating technology into my teaching practice. Catalyzed by necessity, I've become adept at creating a portable classroom without papers. I use Evernote, Google drive and a digital recorder to keep my classroom supplies portable. I use flash drives for transporting documents sometimes, but I find it is easier in the long run to post them on the Internet. It's made it better for students who want to access these resources also. They can go to my website through the school district. They can listen to my podcast posted on Podomatic. They can view my slideshow on Slideshare. Other teachers in other classrooms and other schools and other countries are also able to benefit from what I have to share. My need to write as little as possible, drives me to plan things well in advance, and create lessons and materials that are explicit and thorough. I can never expect to jot a few extra instructions on the board, or on the top of the photocopy before I give them to the class. I am a planner to the extreme. I'm also eager to help my colleagues with just about everything I can, from collaborating on lesson planning to figuring out technological hurdles. I know that there are times that I need help, so I can sympathize and pay it forward for every time that someone else has helped me. Having thoracic outlet syndrome has unique challenges, but it has also prodded me to become a better teacher. I needed to.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

There's Always a Substitute

Instead of my regular classroom, I am spending the 2013-2014 school year substitute teaching. It's not my first time as a substitute teacher, but I'm certainly approaching differently than I have in the past. I used to struggle through, hiding my pain and trying my best to do everything a teacher should do on my own. Since then, I have learned to draw the line and tell people what I am not able to do.

However, I am discovering that a well executed day of substitute teaching often doesn't require any writing at all. Let's run through a sample day:

7:15 AM I arrive at school 30 minutes before class begins. This gives me an opportunity to review the teachers lesson plans and locate whatever materials and resources the class has to offer. (Teachers edition textbook, behavior chart, document camera projector, etc.)

7:45 AM Class begins, and I introduce myself. I sum up the students plans for the day, so they know what to expect. Then I say something like,

"In a moment we will begin lesson 3, but first I need someone to help me with attendance."

There are almost always three or more students eager for this role. I don't know why. They have no idea what I want them to do.

I asked them to have a pencil ready, and they will help me mark who is absent. I read through the roster, and as the students identify who is present and absent, my helper will write "A" in the box for any absent students or "T" for tardy students. I stamp the bottom of the page with a custom-made signature stamp, which includes my name printed. Then students either run the roster up to the office, or attach it to the door where an office aide will pick it up.

This works for almost all grade levels. Kindergarten and first grade are an exception. They want to help, but most can't write small enough in the boxes. Notice that I did not identify my handicap. I didn't need to. I simply got students involved in their own classroom management, and they rose to the opportunity. I think I did need to explain my handicap once to a tough group of high schoolers. They probably were suspicious of a sub who wanted them to do his work for him. This same method of asking students for help carries me through the whole day. Sometimes I will explain my condition to a reluctant helper, As I mentioned in a previous post, disclosure can be limited to an as needed basis.

As the day continues, I make notes into a digital recorder or into a document on my phone. I make note of helpful students and troubled students. Usually this is just notes for myself. When students see me recording notes, I explain my condition. I've never had anyone upset at me recording notes. In fact, many students are fascinated with the process, and ask if I can record them and play it back. Young students especially love hearing their own voice.

2:30 PM At the end of the school day, I send an email to the teacher describing the events of the day. I listen to my recorded notes and compile the essence of what the teacher really needs to know to move on with her next few days of lessons. I send it in the form of an email, or sometimes as a note document application (Keep or Evernote or Google docs will work well). On a few occasions, I have actually sent an audio file. For example, students running laps said their name as they passed, and I said the running time, so the teacher was able to identify which students achieved the goal for the day. It made a lot more sense than trying to write down everyone's names in the middle of the activity.

Occasionally, I will be asked to do something beyond my scope. A teacher or an administrator might ask me to "rip out enough workbook pages for a class set" or "troubleshoot this computer connectivity issue". I explain my condition, and it isn't a problem. After I declined several tasks one teacher offered me, she asked, "Well, what can you do?"

I can do a lot of things. Classroom management. Teaching. Supervision. Explanations. Encouragement. Inquiry. Assessment.

It may take some people some time to recognize that the job of the teacher is not in the hands. I think about this a lot when I am a substitute in an elementary school classroom where the teacher is clearly putting a lot of their own handwork into their practice.

Think about what value you are adding to the lesson by using your own hands instead of the students. Ripping out workbook pages. Writing names on the board. Moving clothespins for every student up and down a behavior chart. Writing the date on the board.

Students are capable of these tasks, and the more involved they are in their education, the better they will see the value of whatever task you have asked of them.