How ridiculous is it that I am planning my course of action in case of an active shooter in my school? It's 2018. It's crazy. And yet, I am. I should be napping (haha not really) or planning super cool stuff to enrich my curriculum after break. And yet, I'm analyzing my proximity to both exits from the school, and access to the roof.
Because no kid of mine will die on my watch. And yes, I said kid- my students are MY KIDS from 8:15 am to 2:10 pm. I get called mom at least three times a day. While I teach grades 5-8, due to the myriad of disabilities they manage, present as more immature than typical grade age peers. They are smart as all get out, but we hug a lot, reassure a lot, and sometimes, just have to help navigate making Easy Mac. Wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
And yet, in this day and age where kids are legitimately NOT IMPORTANT to elected officials swimming in money from the NRA, I'm planning where we would go if we needed to shelter in place- what we would use if we needed to counteract- and most importantly, what exit I can get them to, to evacuate. I'm glad my state uses ALICE- because I'm not into being a sitting duck.
As a single mom, I have contingency plans for EVERYTHING. If my car breaks down with the kids, if I collapse at work and am unconscious (trust me that is a very long and involved contingency plan- which my boss and secretary have), if a kid starts puking right before I have a big meeting. I cover my bases, because I'm mom. That's my job.
And that translates to my kids at school. I have contingency plans that I will NEVER, EVER, EVER have to use. (RIGHT??? REPEAT AFTER ME- NEVER!) Yet, not outside the realm of possibility. I know that my son's teachers' have the same plans in their head because, yes, we have to think about this.
Isn't that fucking sad? March 14th. March 24th. MARCH. SPEAK. BE HEARD.
Follow the lead of the children- they're not afraid to speak up. Why are you?
Wednesday, February 21, 2018
Saturday, February 17, 2018
I am a TEACHER.
I'm fired up, friends, so be forewarned. I'm also a mom to a kindergartner and second grader. I also happen to teach at a therapeutic school where we provide an academically rigorous, therapeutically sound curriculum. My students have DBT groups, Social Thinking curriculum, art and music therapy. They have groups that focus on depression, anxiety, anger management, coping strategies. We use Zones of Regulation, and sensory activities. I work with kids that have encountered struggles in their public schools. Bottom line, I SHOULD have been Nikolas Cruz's teacher. And Adam Lanza's. Digest that for a minute. Both youths had serious warning signs through out their years in school. One was expelled- had he been in Massachusetts, Chapter 222 would have required his school to either tutor or find placement- in a school like mine.
I am ridiculously proud to work where I work- we have an incredible team that 100% puts our students first. Good days AND bad days. And there are bad days.
There are days where I have to slap a poster up over the window so my kiddos in class aren't aware of what is going on in the hallway.
There are days where I welcome random students into my classroom because they needed to leave theirs so a peer could get the support they needed in a difficult moment.
There is a reason I have a microwave in the classroom- so if the cafeteria isn't available my kiddos can still warm their lunch and enjoy a few moments of down time.
There is a reason why I spend my own money to make sure there are plenty of extra healthy snacks if kiddos are hungry- meeting basic needs is comforting for all. And I usually forget my lunch!
There is a reason I have weighted blankets, aromatherapy oils, ice cubes, and fidget toys.
There are times where I shove my kids into a corner, hurdling desks to get them there (and ripping my pants in the process- I mean c'mon, I am not athletically inclined), and hoist heavy cabinets in front of my door. Thankfully, in my almost twenty years of teaching, this has ALWAYS been a successful intervention.
There are reasons why we are all trained in ALICE, and do drills. I know how to keep my kids safe. I rehearse it in my head regularly, as I know my own sons' teachers do.
And arming me isn't a way I can do that. Metal detectors, armed guards- those are all serious triggers. For a population of students that already have a tremendous amount of anxiety and fear in their own lives- reporting to school and encountering that? Forget it. Think about it- what frame of mind does that put you in when you enter a courthouse? Report for jury duty? You are on edge. How can you be prepared to learn? Grow?
My job is to teach. To foster a warm and loving environment that is safe, not just physically, but emotionally. I want my students to throw out "What If's?", and become independent thinkers. I want them to challenge me, to challenge themselves. To push beyond what they though possible. And I do that, every single day, every school year. The kids know they are my "Baer cubs". They know they can ask me hard questions, get a big hug, and cry sometimes, and that's ok. I'm not judging them, I'm not evaluating their weaknesses- I'm focusing on their strengths, of which they have many.
And these days? I am reassuring their safety. I teach middle school- grades five through eight- and this week was long. The week before break, the week with Valentine's day- and a terrible week for Parkland, FL. They knew what had happened- there were more hugs Thursday than I think we had the whole first half of the year. And they also didn't talk about it- at least in class. They just hugged their peers, and me, and were ready to learn.
Except for one kiddo. A kiddo with a myriad of diagnoses, who would likely be overlooked in a public school setting. They said, as they left on Friday, "It's too bad money is more important that kid's lives". It took my breath away. They were so right. This was completely out of the blue- I ban talk of politics in class because it just turns into a hot mess- my kids are little, and regurgitate what they hear at home, and then it turns into a free for all.
And they are right. Money is more important than kids' lives. In regards to policy and change, and education. What would have happened if a shooter's school had laid out the money to get them the skills they needed? Could their path be altered?
I also had a student that said "I feel bad for that boy (Parkland shooter), why didn't anyone help him so he didn't have to get so angry and hurt people?" If a twelve year old can recognize that, why wasn't more done? I am furious that no steps were taken to prevent this horrific act. There are therapists, groups, schools- that could have changed his trajectory.
And it's not just about money- does someone's love of their guns usurp children arriving home from school each day alive? NO. It's a freaking gun people. LET GO!!! I will never side on the "ohhh I love me some guns" argument.
So I am a teacher. I am a mother. I am a mom DEMANDING action. I am already ashamed to be a citizen of the US under 45. I will NOT be ashamed of my lack of action. I will picket. I will go stand outside my town's chapter of the NRA and demand to be heard. I will write postcards. I will walk out on March 14th. I will donate to organizations of like mind.
This is bigger than the parties controlling the United States. This is about our children, and their right to an education. This is about breaking the horrific cycle of the NRA buying politicians.
I am a teacher. Let me teach.
I am ridiculously proud to work where I work- we have an incredible team that 100% puts our students first. Good days AND bad days. And there are bad days.
There are days where I have to slap a poster up over the window so my kiddos in class aren't aware of what is going on in the hallway.
There are days where I welcome random students into my classroom because they needed to leave theirs so a peer could get the support they needed in a difficult moment.
There is a reason I have a microwave in the classroom- so if the cafeteria isn't available my kiddos can still warm their lunch and enjoy a few moments of down time.
There is a reason why I spend my own money to make sure there are plenty of extra healthy snacks if kiddos are hungry- meeting basic needs is comforting for all. And I usually forget my lunch!
There is a reason I have weighted blankets, aromatherapy oils, ice cubes, and fidget toys.
There are times where I shove my kids into a corner, hurdling desks to get them there (and ripping my pants in the process- I mean c'mon, I am not athletically inclined), and hoist heavy cabinets in front of my door. Thankfully, in my almost twenty years of teaching, this has ALWAYS been a successful intervention.
There are reasons why we are all trained in ALICE, and do drills. I know how to keep my kids safe. I rehearse it in my head regularly, as I know my own sons' teachers do.
And arming me isn't a way I can do that. Metal detectors, armed guards- those are all serious triggers. For a population of students that already have a tremendous amount of anxiety and fear in their own lives- reporting to school and encountering that? Forget it. Think about it- what frame of mind does that put you in when you enter a courthouse? Report for jury duty? You are on edge. How can you be prepared to learn? Grow?
My job is to teach. To foster a warm and loving environment that is safe, not just physically, but emotionally. I want my students to throw out "What If's?", and become independent thinkers. I want them to challenge me, to challenge themselves. To push beyond what they though possible. And I do that, every single day, every school year. The kids know they are my "Baer cubs". They know they can ask me hard questions, get a big hug, and cry sometimes, and that's ok. I'm not judging them, I'm not evaluating their weaknesses- I'm focusing on their strengths, of which they have many.
And these days? I am reassuring their safety. I teach middle school- grades five through eight- and this week was long. The week before break, the week with Valentine's day- and a terrible week for Parkland, FL. They knew what had happened- there were more hugs Thursday than I think we had the whole first half of the year. And they also didn't talk about it- at least in class. They just hugged their peers, and me, and were ready to learn.
Except for one kiddo. A kiddo with a myriad of diagnoses, who would likely be overlooked in a public school setting. They said, as they left on Friday, "It's too bad money is more important that kid's lives". It took my breath away. They were so right. This was completely out of the blue- I ban talk of politics in class because it just turns into a hot mess- my kids are little, and regurgitate what they hear at home, and then it turns into a free for all.
And they are right. Money is more important than kids' lives. In regards to policy and change, and education. What would have happened if a shooter's school had laid out the money to get them the skills they needed? Could their path be altered?
I also had a student that said "I feel bad for that boy (Parkland shooter), why didn't anyone help him so he didn't have to get so angry and hurt people?" If a twelve year old can recognize that, why wasn't more done? I am furious that no steps were taken to prevent this horrific act. There are therapists, groups, schools- that could have changed his trajectory.
And it's not just about money- does someone's love of their guns usurp children arriving home from school each day alive? NO. It's a freaking gun people. LET GO!!! I will never side on the "ohhh I love me some guns" argument.
So I am a teacher. I am a mother. I am a mom DEMANDING action. I am already ashamed to be a citizen of the US under 45. I will NOT be ashamed of my lack of action. I will picket. I will go stand outside my town's chapter of the NRA and demand to be heard. I will write postcards. I will walk out on March 14th. I will donate to organizations of like mind.
This is bigger than the parties controlling the United States. This is about our children, and their right to an education. This is about breaking the horrific cycle of the NRA buying politicians.
I am a teacher. Let me teach.
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