Aug 03 2008
Anthology Pieces
A Frantic Calm
I have much to do in so little time.
Why am I rushing?
I need to be still.
I am busying myself into a gut-wrenching state.
Why not do it tomorrow?
I need to be free.
I am working harder not smarter.
What’s the dilemma?
I need no worries.
I am obsessed with what-ifs.
Why distract the moment?
I need to embrace possibilities.
I have random thoughts in mind.
Why such longing to share?
I need to hear you.
I am always searching for answers.
Why are some not found?
I need to be conscious.
I am pulsing through the day.
Why not take the time?
I need to be patient.
I am at times unsure I see the best way.
Why not absorb it all?
I need to be confident.
I am creating chaos in my mind.
Why so many scattered images?
I need to focus.
I am frantic for no reason at all.
I need to be calm
Teresa Colón
My Name
Teresa Colón
Teresa Colón. I have never been crazy about it. According to my mother I was named after my great-grandmother. If I had been born on the due date of March 17th, it would have been Patricia. I’m glad I was three days early. There was also some controversy about my middle name. It was supposed to be Ruth after my Titi Ruthy. My family was not crazy about it and my mother didn’t think of another quick enough so I ended up with Teresa “Blank” Colón. What a push-over! I don’t have a middle name. I’m saddened by the emptiness between the two. I think maybe if I had one I would embrace my first one with greater affection. Teresa “Maria” Colón, or Teresa “Rosa” Colón, any of these would offer some amends. The Greek meaning of my name is ‘Harvester’. That doesn’t sound very romantic, biblical, or even honorable. Collecting crops? Why can’t it mean strength, compassion, wisdom, or love? I suppose one can think of crop collecting as being important to sustaining life!
When I was a child and my father would call me it would be “TERESA!” stated with such intent! During his moments of frustration with me I am quite sure he was lamenting over not having given me a middle name allowing him to roar out all three in an effort to frighten me! My mother was much gentler singing….. ♫ “Teeeerrrrrriiiii” ♪ a half dozen times in her multiple attempts to get me up for school. My older brother Mike did not like to use it much. He had other choice names I would rather not disclose. I bet to this day he would be able to recall each one. Daniel, my little brother would holler out my name over and over as he raced through our neighborhood on his bicycle trying to find me. My grandmother whispered “Teresita”, when calling me for a game of Parcheesi. My grandfather bellowed “Té-déh”, as he wobbled down the hall the meet me in the kitchen for fish and crackers to be eaten right on his lap! My Spanish teacher, “Teresita Chiquitita” with such rhythm, flare and passion; I thought for a moment it might be fitting for a middle name.
During early adolescence while scribbling in my notebooks during class, I often toyed with the nick name versions of my name. “T-e-r-r-i-e”, “T-e-r-r-y”, and finally felt contentment with “T-e-r-r-i”, with a heart drawn over the ‘i’ of course. Perhaps because I had some control over what I would be called. Now everyone calls me ‘Terri’, almost everyone. I reserve Teresa for those outside my intimate circle of friends or acquaintances. Strangers, telemarketers, and bill collectors can call me Teresa.
I have never revealed to my mother my true feelings about my name, mostly because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. After all she did like the name enough to give it to her only daughter. Shouldn’t that be enough for me? Maybe, but it’s not. I have grown accustomed to it. I often wonder if I could learn to love the name Teresa. Possibly. Perhaps I will grace my daughter with the name as well. Place it thoughtfully between her first and last. I will undeniably fall in love with it then!
Resisting Robert
Teresa Colón
During the first few days of school my fourth graders created and shared colossal “All about Me” posters as a getting to know each other activity. Many of my students needed additional paper reasoning it was not nearly enough room to capture all the important details of their favorite things or to share all the important details of their lives; and at that age everything is really important! Each morning I’d do my best to greet my class with an ample helping of enthusiasm and zest. As the year progressed I made a conscious effort to do so, even kicking it up a notch after spring break. Most of my students already seemed motivated to learn, to read, to tell me what they learned last year, who their Kindergarten teacher was, and even what activity was the most fun and why. For the most part these kids really seemed to enjoy school. That was one end of the spectrum of personalities in my class. And then there was Robert. Robert showed up for school every single day. He strolled in with his buttered hard roll and bottle of Gatorade his mother was sure to grab at the local Stewart’s Shop before she drove him to school each morning. Mondays were the worst. By 9:30 a.m. the pattern of his spiral notebook had left its impression in detail on his little pink cheek and a stream of drool was slowly spilling from the crack of his mouth onto his desk. Robert was my resistant learner. It wasn’t so much his resistance to learning as it was his resistance to ‘waking up’ to learning. When called on to participate he would reluctantly drag his body off his desk to a somewhat upright position while gurgling out loud, “I’m not sleeping, no, I’m not sleeping!”
Every year I seem to zero in on the underdog. To reach out to whom I refer to as the “invisible child”, the child who has mastered the art of trying to be invisible to the teacher and the rest of the class. Well, Robert was that child. He figured if he didn’t start any trouble, turned his homework in three out of five days a week, and came to school every day, he would get by. There are a lot of kids who strategize through the school year that way. Robert was good at strategizing. He loved video games. He could beat just about every game his father bought for him. And he played them often. So much so he barely had time to sleep at night or to eat breakfast before school. No worries – he always had that buttered hard roll! Robert was an average student in all subjects but only because he never did more than he needed to. Again – just enough to get by unnoticed. Little did he know I had my eye on him the whole time.
I guess I should have suspected there would be an issue with him when his mother told me at the beginning of the school year that he had trouble in third grade. Actually to be more specific “she” had trouble in third grade, trouble with his teacher. In her words she and the teacher, “just didn’t get along or see eye to eye.” I have never been one to discuss a student with a previous teacher for reasons other than academic purposes or for insight to what might impact learning. As far as I am concerned every child deserves a fresh start….a clean slate, no matter what! But as I became more familiar with Robert and his home life it became apparent to me the resistance I was getting from him was nothing compared to the resistance he faced at home. At first glance you would not suspect. He was a clean, well-dressed boy who was in attendance everyday. His parents were divorced and his mom was newly remarried. An older sister at home would be assigned the ‘task’ of assisting him in his homework endeavors as there were no adults present until late in the evening. Robert’s mother often complained of the amount of homework Robert received and how it took hours to get him to complete. She told me it was a ‘fight’ to get him to do it. Often times I would review Robert’s homework and would immediately see her frustration as she ended up completing the work for him. This in my opinion was unacceptable as Robert was more than capable. She never denied she acted as the scribe for Robert while he gave her the answers orally. I explained to her that homework was not designed to frustrate Robert or anyone else in the household, but as a reinforcement of the lessons that day. The homework situation baffled me considering Robert had plenty of time to complete it at the Y-Scoop Program he attended after school for students of late-working parents. Over the course of time, Robert began to sleep in class more frequently, be unprepared, showed no interest in participating, and continued to fidget with objects on his desk when he was not sleeping.
As Robert continued to snooze in class, I contacted the mother almost every week. We communicated through a ‘Homework Journal’ where daily assignments were recorded and it would also double as a means of communication between teacher and parent. I made it clear the journal needed to be signed to indicate someone had reviewed Robert’s homework and it was in fact complete. That worked for a few weeks. Robert would get back on track, turn his homework in, pay attention in class, then go right back to his poor habits. Sleeping on the desk, not turning in homework consistently, and when he was awake, flinging pencils across the room. The flinging of pencils was unintentional. He didn’t realize he was twirling them in between his fingers when suddenly they would just spring out of his hands into the air and onto someone’s desk. Most times I was able to prevent this from happening as the soft rhythm of his pencil tapping on his desk would come to my attention before distracting the rest of the class. I would quietly walk to his desk, continuing the lesson and gently pull them from his hand placing them in the pencil holder at the top of his desk. Robert always sat in the front of the room, close enough for me to give him a mild nudge when I noticed he was fading. The kids around him followed suit by doing it for me when I was across the room. I would make another attempt to contact home, but get no response. All communication between home and school would cease for a period of weeks.
There were moments Robert would shine. When I would see the merry-go-round in his mind start to turn I would do my best to jump on! Asking him questions and opinions about the lesson, inviting him to read aloud, and having him participate as much as possible. This was inconceivable to witness before 11:00 in the morning. Robert enjoyed math games, working in groups with his peers and he loved to read books, Goosebumps were his favorite. I suggested other mystery books but he seemed addicted to the horror fiction novels of R.L. Stine. Robert was in the highest reading group. Often I would facilitate in his group and watch as he read between the lines, made inferences and connections to the text, and use multiple reading strategies. When Robert was ‘on’ I would often use him to stimulate thought and discussion during lessons. Unfortunately, Robert would move in and out of this consciousness throughout the year. At times he would look at me with sheer astonishment when I had the nerve to ask him for his homework. I imagined he was saying to himself, “geeze lady would you give it up already?!” His disorganization became such a problem. His desk would ooze old tests that were never signed, blank dittos he claimed to have never received, multiple copies of permission slips never taken home, and progress reports with missing assignments attached to them.
When I needed to speak to his mother I would contact her by phone at her job because that was the best place to reach her. As Robert’s lack of effort perpetuated and I became increasingly more persistent, his mother became increasingly more defensive stating to me on several occasions; “I don’t know what to do with him – what do you want me to do?” She insisted she made him go to bed each night at 9:00 p.m. but in the middle of the night she would hear him get up and continue to stay up into the early morning hours. She demanded that he be tested. She believed he had Attention Deficit Disorder. Although I could not offer her a professional diagnosis, I felt his lack of sleep was affecting his ability to focus. I reminded her of the times when he was on track. Those were the times she and I were communicating on a regular basis. She still wanted him to be tested. Robert was brighter than he wanted anyone to know, but I already did.
The year I had Robert in my classroom, I also had many other students requiring significant consideration. There was a child with Down’s syndrome, two children with Individualized Education Programs, two other children who desperately needed 504 plans put into effect, and another student who was clearly learning disabled, and qualified for special education services but had none in place. I was not convinced Robert was a candidate for special education services. Nevertheless we would of course proceed ahead with appropriate testing. Prior to Robert being tested, all other options needed to be explored. The issues were identified, and an intervention plan was put into place. The plan was devised by the Child Study Team as a collaborative effort to help Robert focus and as a means to strengthen the connection between home and school. It looked something like this…
• Robert would have to raise his hand at least three times per day and ask a relevant question relating to the lesson. A record of this was to be made.
• He would have to tell me one thing he learned at the end of each day.
• His Homework Journal would be reviewed at home and signed each day. A sticker would then be placed in the journal at the end of a successful week for which he would receive a positive reward at home.
• A chart was created for Robert to post at home to remind him of the materials he needed for school, and the same chart was posted on his desk for him to review prior to leaving for the day.
• I would check Robert’s backpack each day to be sure he had what he needed to successfully complete his homework.
• Regular appointments with the school counselor were arranged with Robert.
• In an effort to increase Robert’s accountability of his work and actions, he was allotted free time at the beginning of the week, in which he would be in control of its loss. Time was taken away as he did not follow the plan.
• Robert’s mother would be contacted by phone each morning that he fell asleep.
Robert’s testing involved a battery of tests to be completed by the school psychologist. Classroom observations were made and everyone was on the job! Within thirty days the tests were complete and results were in. At the meeting the results were discussed at great length. As suspected Robert scored off the charts! He was an above average student who did not qualify for special services. The Special Education Committee suggested Robert visit his doctor to rule out a vitamin deficiency, sleep disorder or any other health issues that could be affecting his performance at school. At Robert’s mother’s request I wrote a letter to her doctor describing my observations of Robert in the classroom; i.e., lethargy, inattentiveness, sluggishness, and slurred-speech etc. At the end of the meeting, Robert’s mother and I walked to the parking lot, me heading back to school and her to work. Her next comment to me sent chills up my spine. “I almost wish they would have found something wrong with Robert, I don’t know what else to do with him!”
From that point on the problem seemed to exacerbate. The intervention plan put into place prior to testing fell by the wayside. I could not reach his mother by phone or through the journal. I was told by the nurse to just “write him up” if he slept in class because he was being defiant. I did not see this as an option. I would continue to have Robert run to the bathroom to wash his face with cold water. But in times of frustration I would have him simply stand at his desk, or go nap in the nurse’s office until he felt rejuvenated. Many times he would bump into people, fall off his seat or trip over his own two feet. He couldn’t even muster up enough energy to fling a pencil across the room. Having to stop a lesson three or four times in the morning to refocus him became tedious and exhausting. I found myself resisting Robert. Eventually I stopped looking for his mother’s signature in Robert’s Homework Journal. I stopped calling home. A disturbing feeling overwhelmed me. I felt like I was giving up.
June was embraced by all with exhilaration! Assemblies, field trips and Sports Week activities kept us out of the classroom much of the mornings. Amazingly a change of behavior was noted. So much activity in the mornings kept Robert busy, alert and fired up! He would sometimes come in freshly showered, his hair still wet and smelling like shampoo. I found myself spending more time having conversation with him, laughing and discovering a sense of humor I never knew he had! We talked a great deal about his family vacations, what he does with his father on the weekends, his favorite video games, his obsession with skateboarding and baseball. I observed the interactions he had with his classmates and watched as friendships formed. It was before 11:00 a.m. and Robert was awake! He became more responsible with his work, bringing it to me each morning and checking his own backpack in the afternoon. He would have his worked neatly piled on his desk for me to check, and he was seemingly more enthusiastic.
As I reflect on my experience with Robert, my resistant learner, I can’t help but think about things I could have done differently. Was it my focus on his resistance that hindered my ability to connect with him earlier in the year? Did I focus too much I what I was unable to control rather than concentrate on what I could do for him within the four walls of our classroom? How much time would I allow myself to beat my head up against the wall? I contemplate these ideas as I anticipate a resistant learner in the years to come.
Robert never showed up on the last day of school. His mother called me to tell me she would be signing him out of the district and placing him in a school closer to her job. She told me she would be in a better position to check on him more frequently. “I’ll be in that building every day, he won’t be able to get away with anything!” is what she stated. I am hopeful the move will be a good one for Robert and he’ll have many opportunities to shine in his new fifth grade class. I hope he will not be afraid to let people know just how intelligent and funny he really is! I am optimistic he will use strategies to learn and not in an effort to be invisible.
