Had all the lyrics memorized to this as soon as I bought her first album.
And this was my favorite from that album.
And then I have to include this. (Add some Echo and the Bunnymen and some Buddy Holly and you've just stepped into my Smith College dorm room, circa 1987.)
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
Neo, and her start to school
How many meetings can Suisan go to?
1, 2, 3, 4, ....
It's as if I'm living in a jump rope rhyme.
Anyhooo, before school started, I took Neo to a meeting with the VP of the Middle School to address her anxiety about starting back. He wanted to set up a meeting with all of her teachers to discuss her needs and develop a means of enriching her curriculum. But then he decided that she needed a schedule shift so that she could be in classes with her friends. So the meeting was put off.
This week he called to set up the meeting with all of her teachers. 7:40 in the morning before school. Gah. Extreme need for coffee expected.
I decided to bring along one of her sketch pads to show off her art, and show the teachers where her true interest lies. They were all suitably impressed. And I was impressed with them. Good questions, like, "How can we tell when she's tuning out in class? Is she one of those kids who masks really well, or is there an obvious way to tell when she's getting frustrated or bored?" (Answer: I'm not sure. I think she masks well, but you might want to talk to her two favorite teachers from last year and find out what she's like in class when she's engaged.)
(Cool moment: the VP says, "Oh, I've already talked to them and they have given me some excellent insights." OK, then. Wow. Not used to someone being proactive.)
Another good question: "What's her opinion on group work?" (Answer: She hates it. It makes her crazy.) (Cool moment: One teacher says, "I never assign group work if I can help it. The good students look around the room and start thinking of the rest of the class as 'those jokers who are going to bring down my A.'" In fact, all of the teachers expressed their displeasure with group work, to a person.)
I spoke to them about her letter on Monday night, and how she's really not getting the attention she needs at home, but that we're working on it. Also, that we'd like to do extra projects, but if they can be tied into the curriculum, so much the better. Every teacher, all of them, had ideas of extra projects which would appeal to her. (Wow. Prepared for a meeting. I'm not used to someone being proactive.)
At the end of the meeting her Math teacher says, "I'm concerned that she's been placed in the wrong period. She has Math last period in the day, which is hard enough, but in that group of kids she really sticks out like a sore thumb."
The VP asks, "Do you have a period where you think she'd be a better fit?"
"I think Third Period. They're a quiet, focused group of kids."
"OK, she has PE third period. Can we switch her?" Everyone nods. "Right. I'll go put it into the computer when we're done, assuming there's room."
Ye gods. I'm falling off my chair here.
When Neo came home, I asked if anyone had told her about the proposed schedule change, and did she know if it was going to go into effect on Friday? Maybe Monday?
"Oh, no Mom. VP L came to my second period class with a new schedule and told me to go to Math."
"Man, he doesn't miss a beat, does he?"
"Nope."
"Do you like this Math better?"
"Oh YEAH! Third Period Rocks! There's no chattering. It's great!"
Well, then.
For all that I've fought with the school district for my son's needs, I'm sorta blown out of the water with the response at the Middle School. (Although, I have to say here, that I think it's because Neo made friends with this one VP. He's amazing, and I have gotten the run around before from other staffers there. But hey. He's in a position of power and he wants to make school work for Neo. Excellent. Yay!)
She also told me that almost all of her teachers spoke to her privately during the day to say that they were so impressed with her art work, and that they were so happy she was in their class. I wish MY teachers at Middle School had done that for me. Jeez, memories of seventh grade can still pull me awake in the middle of the night. ::Shudder::
I'm not sure that everything's A-100%-OK, as our insistence that she clean her room last night sent her into a sulk, but overall, I'm feeling really good that SHE has someone she can go to on campus when she needs help, and I have someone I can call if things start spiralling. Good feeling, that.
1, 2, 3, 4, ....
It's as if I'm living in a jump rope rhyme.
Anyhooo, before school started, I took Neo to a meeting with the VP of the Middle School to address her anxiety about starting back. He wanted to set up a meeting with all of her teachers to discuss her needs and develop a means of enriching her curriculum. But then he decided that she needed a schedule shift so that she could be in classes with her friends. So the meeting was put off.
This week he called to set up the meeting with all of her teachers. 7:40 in the morning before school. Gah. Extreme need for coffee expected.
I decided to bring along one of her sketch pads to show off her art, and show the teachers where her true interest lies. They were all suitably impressed. And I was impressed with them. Good questions, like, "How can we tell when she's tuning out in class? Is she one of those kids who masks really well, or is there an obvious way to tell when she's getting frustrated or bored?" (Answer: I'm not sure. I think she masks well, but you might want to talk to her two favorite teachers from last year and find out what she's like in class when she's engaged.)
(Cool moment: the VP says, "Oh, I've already talked to them and they have given me some excellent insights." OK, then. Wow. Not used to someone being proactive.)
Another good question: "What's her opinion on group work?" (Answer: She hates it. It makes her crazy.) (Cool moment: One teacher says, "I never assign group work if I can help it. The good students look around the room and start thinking of the rest of the class as 'those jokers who are going to bring down my A.'" In fact, all of the teachers expressed their displeasure with group work, to a person.)
I spoke to them about her letter on Monday night, and how she's really not getting the attention she needs at home, but that we're working on it. Also, that we'd like to do extra projects, but if they can be tied into the curriculum, so much the better. Every teacher, all of them, had ideas of extra projects which would appeal to her. (Wow. Prepared for a meeting. I'm not used to someone being proactive.)
At the end of the meeting her Math teacher says, "I'm concerned that she's been placed in the wrong period. She has Math last period in the day, which is hard enough, but in that group of kids she really sticks out like a sore thumb."
The VP asks, "Do you have a period where you think she'd be a better fit?"
"I think Third Period. They're a quiet, focused group of kids."
"OK, she has PE third period. Can we switch her?" Everyone nods. "Right. I'll go put it into the computer when we're done, assuming there's room."
Ye gods. I'm falling off my chair here.
When Neo came home, I asked if anyone had told her about the proposed schedule change, and did she know if it was going to go into effect on Friday? Maybe Monday?
"Oh, no Mom. VP L came to my second period class with a new schedule and told me to go to Math."
"Man, he doesn't miss a beat, does he?"
"Nope."
"Do you like this Math better?"
"Oh YEAH! Third Period Rocks! There's no chattering. It's great!"
Well, then.
For all that I've fought with the school district for my son's needs, I'm sorta blown out of the water with the response at the Middle School. (Although, I have to say here, that I think it's because Neo made friends with this one VP. He's amazing, and I have gotten the run around before from other staffers there. But hey. He's in a position of power and he wants to make school work for Neo. Excellent. Yay!)
She also told me that almost all of her teachers spoke to her privately during the day to say that they were so impressed with her art work, and that they were so happy she was in their class. I wish MY teachers at Middle School had done that for me. Jeez, memories of seventh grade can still pull me awake in the middle of the night. ::Shudder::
I'm not sure that everything's A-100%-OK, as our insistence that she clean her room last night sent her into a sulk, but overall, I'm feeling really good that SHE has someone she can go to on campus when she needs help, and I have someone I can call if things start spiralling. Good feeling, that.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
First week of School
Losing my mind.
Running around like a nut.
First week of school. Gah.
GREAT NEWS!!!
My son is staying in school. He likes his teacher. He likes his aide. They are letting him do his own work at his own pace and therefore he's not that anxious. Although, he did have one upset when the class went outdoors to do an exercises together. His IEP says no PE because large chaotic loud activities get him overstimulated, but I guess it didn't occur to anyone that it also applied to classroom stuff? I dunno. Bit of a head shaker there.
Littlest daughter is, of course, loving First Grade. She has homework and she's so proud. She stays the whole day, and she's so proud. She brings Lunch (or even better -- BUYS LUNCH) and loves, just loves, eating lunch in the big cafeteria.
Not so great news:
Neo was really upset on her first day of school. Tired. Anxious. Felt as if I spent too much time with the other kids after school. Really upset. She wrote a "cry for help" on her own blog that evening, which was disturbing enough that I took it down and had to call Dear Butcher to come home early to be with her on the second day of school. Now she says she's fine and it was all an overreaction. OK, but, uh, I have to take you seriously when you say serious things. Right? Jeez, welcome to the teenage years.
Last night a parent called -- a friend of littlest daughter said that she had been punched on the playground. What?
"Phebe, were you punched today?"
"Uh. No. Not really."
"Were you scared today on the playground?"
"Um, yeah."
"Was Grant scared on the playground?"
"Yeah."
"Did he get hurt?"
"Well, he didn't get punched. But this other kid came over to us and pulled his arm really hard."
"Did you tell anyone? An adult?"
"Well, we sorta talked about telling someone, and we were gong to, but then we forgot."
Got that all straightened out and had to go in early to talk to her teacher about the incident and maybe letting First Graders know that they had to talk to adults about stuff that happened so they wouldn't be scared on the playground. Her teacher was really upset. Poor Phebe -- she didn't want to get anyone else in trouble.
Last bit of odd news regards Saul. Why is this always so frustrating?
Last year we made it super clear that there was one staff member who was not to come near Saul ever again. This was the woman who assaulted him in the hallway. Now, he's worked with her after that incident in a small room with another adult nearby, and has never expressed fear of her nor has he ever been impolite to her. However, he still talks about her and this summer at camp he was screaming her name when he was being restrained by the counselors. Again at the beginning of the year, we said that we did not want him near her.
Problem is, she's an aide for another boy in Saul's grade. That's fine. Those two work well together, and I don't want to insert myself into that boy's education.
Except, that boy's mom is a teacher in the school and she requested that her son have the classroom teacher that Saul has. OK, that's fine. The principal told me in early August that she had already told the mother/teacher that she could have her choice of aide or her choice of teacher, but she couldn't have both. That aide was not to be in that teacher's class. She chose the teacher. OK, fine. So she understands that the aide will not be in the class. "Yes," says the principal. "Her son only gets the teacher, and we'll find another aide for her son." Ok, whatever. Don't really know why you told me then.
School starts. The other boy has NO aide. They never hired a replacement. The Spec Ed teacher comes to me and says that she's surprised to see the other boy in that class and could she place the aide with that boy?
"Look, I don't want to be putting myself in his IEP. But I've made it clear that Saul is not to interact with her at all."
"If she's in the class, she won't be working with Saul. She'll be working with her own boy. Saul only has to work with his teacher and his aide. That's it."
"I'm not going to tell you what to do for that boy. It's none of my business. But I've made my point of view really clear."
"But I've seen them together. He's fine with her."
"Yes, that may be true. He tries very hard to be polite, and I think he's probably OK with her in general. But you were in the room with them, and he feels safe with you. He's an unpredictable child. I can't predict how he'll treat or react to her. I know he's expressed fear of her over the summer, and I don't want him being with her at all. I will not set up an environment were he's more likely to blow." And from there the conversation veered off into other topics.
Monday, he brought home three math problems, 22 fewer than the rest of the class, since he had done so much work in school. Very proud of himself.
Yesterday he brings home his corrected Math. It's been torn in half, crumpled, and taped back together again. At the top of the paper the number of wrong answers (3) is written. Usually he gets the number of right answers written down. (Which would have been 22/25.) OK, I sigh to myself, someone hasn't been told what he's used to when correcting his work. So he got it back, saw the number of wrongs and tore it up in frustration. Damn. And he was so proud of it too. Oh, well. I'll talk to the teacher this afternoon about it, or ask the Spec Ed teacher to mention it to him. No big deal.
Come to find out that the teacher didn't correct the math homework. It was the aide whom I never wanted in the class who corrected the entire class's work. What? What's she doing there? And why isn't she Working With Her Own Assigned Kid?
Fuck Fuck Fuck. So she's the one who wrote the thing down wrong. And she's ONCE AGAIN stepped outside of her assigned work to do stuff that she's not supposed to do. This is why I didn't want her in the class. Dammit.
But, all sighing aside, all three of my kids are in school. It's shocking, really. Look at all the laundry I could get done. Umm, yeah.
Running around like a nut.
First week of school. Gah.
GREAT NEWS!!!
My son is staying in school. He likes his teacher. He likes his aide. They are letting him do his own work at his own pace and therefore he's not that anxious. Although, he did have one upset when the class went outdoors to do an exercises together. His IEP says no PE because large chaotic loud activities get him overstimulated, but I guess it didn't occur to anyone that it also applied to classroom stuff? I dunno. Bit of a head shaker there.
Littlest daughter is, of course, loving First Grade. She has homework and she's so proud. She stays the whole day, and she's so proud. She brings Lunch (or even better -- BUYS LUNCH) and loves, just loves, eating lunch in the big cafeteria.
Not so great news:
Neo was really upset on her first day of school. Tired. Anxious. Felt as if I spent too much time with the other kids after school. Really upset. She wrote a "cry for help" on her own blog that evening, which was disturbing enough that I took it down and had to call Dear Butcher to come home early to be with her on the second day of school. Now she says she's fine and it was all an overreaction. OK, but, uh, I have to take you seriously when you say serious things. Right? Jeez, welcome to the teenage years.
Last night a parent called -- a friend of littlest daughter said that she had been punched on the playground. What?
"Phebe, were you punched today?"
"Uh. No. Not really."
"Were you scared today on the playground?"
"Um, yeah."
"Was Grant scared on the playground?"
"Yeah."
"Did he get hurt?"
"Well, he didn't get punched. But this other kid came over to us and pulled his arm really hard."
"Did you tell anyone? An adult?"
"Well, we sorta talked about telling someone, and we were gong to, but then we forgot."
Got that all straightened out and had to go in early to talk to her teacher about the incident and maybe letting First Graders know that they had to talk to adults about stuff that happened so they wouldn't be scared on the playground. Her teacher was really upset. Poor Phebe -- she didn't want to get anyone else in trouble.
Last bit of odd news regards Saul. Why is this always so frustrating?
Last year we made it super clear that there was one staff member who was not to come near Saul ever again. This was the woman who assaulted him in the hallway. Now, he's worked with her after that incident in a small room with another adult nearby, and has never expressed fear of her nor has he ever been impolite to her. However, he still talks about her and this summer at camp he was screaming her name when he was being restrained by the counselors. Again at the beginning of the year, we said that we did not want him near her.
Problem is, she's an aide for another boy in Saul's grade. That's fine. Those two work well together, and I don't want to insert myself into that boy's education.
Except, that boy's mom is a teacher in the school and she requested that her son have the classroom teacher that Saul has. OK, that's fine. The principal told me in early August that she had already told the mother/teacher that she could have her choice of aide or her choice of teacher, but she couldn't have both. That aide was not to be in that teacher's class. She chose the teacher. OK, fine. So she understands that the aide will not be in the class. "Yes," says the principal. "Her son only gets the teacher, and we'll find another aide for her son." Ok, whatever. Don't really know why you told me then.
School starts. The other boy has NO aide. They never hired a replacement. The Spec Ed teacher comes to me and says that she's surprised to see the other boy in that class and could she place the aide with that boy?
"Look, I don't want to be putting myself in his IEP. But I've made it clear that Saul is not to interact with her at all."
"If she's in the class, she won't be working with Saul. She'll be working with her own boy. Saul only has to work with his teacher and his aide. That's it."
"I'm not going to tell you what to do for that boy. It's none of my business. But I've made my point of view really clear."
"But I've seen them together. He's fine with her."
"Yes, that may be true. He tries very hard to be polite, and I think he's probably OK with her in general. But you were in the room with them, and he feels safe with you. He's an unpredictable child. I can't predict how he'll treat or react to her. I know he's expressed fear of her over the summer, and I don't want him being with her at all. I will not set up an environment were he's more likely to blow." And from there the conversation veered off into other topics.
Monday, he brought home three math problems, 22 fewer than the rest of the class, since he had done so much work in school. Very proud of himself.
Yesterday he brings home his corrected Math. It's been torn in half, crumpled, and taped back together again. At the top of the paper the number of wrong answers (3) is written. Usually he gets the number of right answers written down. (Which would have been 22/25.) OK, I sigh to myself, someone hasn't been told what he's used to when correcting his work. So he got it back, saw the number of wrongs and tore it up in frustration. Damn. And he was so proud of it too. Oh, well. I'll talk to the teacher this afternoon about it, or ask the Spec Ed teacher to mention it to him. No big deal.
Come to find out that the teacher didn't correct the math homework. It was the aide whom I never wanted in the class who corrected the entire class's work. What? What's she doing there? And why isn't she Working With Her Own Assigned Kid?
Fuck Fuck Fuck. So she's the one who wrote the thing down wrong. And she's ONCE AGAIN stepped outside of her assigned work to do stuff that she's not supposed to do. This is why I didn't want her in the class. Dammit.
But, all sighing aside, all three of my kids are in school. It's shocking, really. Look at all the laundry I could get done. Umm, yeah.
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