Emotional Cost of SPED

For the last week and a half, I had the opportunity to spend 6 days in a resource room for exceptional students. I  had planned some other things for this week in light of Easter arriving next weekend but decided there were some things that I really wanted to say and share with all of you. For the next week, I will be sharing my thoughts and feeling with you regarding these students.

Special Education (SPED) or Exception Student Services (ESS)? What difference does it make in what we call something? I noticed a trend in my textbook, many people are looking for a politically correct way to label someone or something but does changing the name really make the stigma of the label less?

I was hoping that during my time with these students that I would see a change in attitudes toward them. That they would some how now be included as inclusion dictates. Instead, I saw the same thing I did when I was growing up, only it seemed worse to me somehow. 

Perhaps it is the fact that I am a mom of two special needs children, perhaps it is my own feelings of powerlessness as I prepare my one son to enter the world of special education, or maybe it was the fact that for a week, these were MY kids. And they were hurting.

I spent time with my kids in the general education room. I snuck into the back of the room and quietly blended into the walls. I asked the teacher not to announce me or to even acknowledge my presence. I wanted the class to continue as it normally would. I wanted to be a fly on the wall.

Then I wanted to cry.

I saw the teacher ask two normal kids to help one of my. They literally argued in front of her who was going to "deal with her now." I watched as her para did not to assist. She was so used to this treatment that she simply wandered away. She seemed lost in a crowd, included but separate.

In another class, I watched how my student literally broke down in tears because he couldn't get it. He was so hurt and embarrassed that he threw his book across the room and ran out growling.

In another class, I watched as one of my kids sat quietly copying a neighbor's work. He was allowed to be part of the group unlike my first student but he was simply their shadow, he was never fully engaged.

This is only the story of 3 of the 21 students I had the opportunity to work with. The anxiety and pressure on them is overwhelming. When they walk into the doors of the resource room they come alive. It is like a spring that has popped and they are bubbling over.

My lost little girl comes for a hug. She just needs to know she is loved and shares a story she told herself in class. She wanted to know if she used her new vocabulary I taught her well. She didn't but I told her it was a great story anyways.

My angry, crying kid comes in with a tough attitude. He acts as if nothing can get to him and is looking to fight. He is safe here, here he is excepted so he is locked and loaded. I come by and tell him I am proud of what he has done and rub his back as I walk by. He melts and a hint of a smile appears.

My shadow is alive and full of energy. He is standing on his chair to see if he can reach the ceiling. He is teasing his classmates, modeling the attention he receives in the general education room. He doesn't want to focus and work. He wants to talk and participate. He has a joke for everything he doesn't know. He is seeking attention and thinks this is the only way to get it. I put a plastic spider on his shoulder, a pet to keep him company. His new "pet" helps him pass today's spelling test. The next day, he appears in class with a spider sticker on his shoulder.

Every day is the same for these kids. They are so brave to come to school each day knowing that how they want to be treated and how they are treated will never be the same. The emotional costs are astronomical but the teachers seem unaware.

Do you have a child in your class who is paying too much to attend? How can you help him/her?