“You’re stealing my learning”

Tonight in our after dinner-before before bed-school night shenanigans, my 5 year old was building an alphabet puzzle. She was struggling with the middle of the alphabet so I proceeded to do what I do- I “cued” or prompted her. I began singing the alphabet song with her. And this was her response

I posted it on Instagram because it struck me so. But quickly realized this quote from my 5 year old was taking me to a deeper place requiring more reflection and so I must blog.

So what if I haven't written a blog post in 6 months?!


"You're stealing my learning".

Perhaps it's because it was said in response to such a natural habit of mine. A learned skill even, the cueing, the prompting. It's what I do ALL day with my kiddos at work. Perhaps it was the tone in which the message was delivered. Like she was really PISSED that I wasn't letting her figure this out on her own. Perhaps it's an abundance of worry about new reading "programs" and abysmal MCAS scores.

I'm not quite sure why but this quote struck a nerve. So much so that I had to write about it. Because if I write about it then I can think about it and I can learn from it. It's just how my processing works...

"You're stealing my learning".

My goodness, how many times in a day do I "steal" a child's learning. How many times a day do I accommodate and modify to a point that I am actually depriving that child of the opportunity to grapple, to grow, to learn. How many times do I personally invite a child to follow directions when, in fact, they might learn to do it more independently and faster if I let them fail once in a while.

Working in Special Education is like walking a fine line. Meeting the child where they are while trying desperately to get them to where they "need to be" is a never ending battle.

But what I realized tonight, thanks to my daughter, is that every struggle is an opportunity to learn. Or at least, an invitation to try.

How many times have I fed a child a word they were decoding because we just had to get to answering the questions?  How many times have I taken the pencil and wrote a child's answer because the rest of the class was already finished and my 30 minutes were almost up?

This isn't to say I need to let go and watch my darlings drown in the turbulent waters of grade level curriculum expectations. This isn't to say I don't continue to provide them the accommodations they need to succeed.

But maybe, just maybe, I let their learning be their own instead of a reflection of my support. Maybe I let them grapple, let them miss the direction and watch how they struggle through that and figure out a way to do it differently next time. Maybe I let them....learn.

It's possible I'm being dramatic about the words of a frustrated 5 year old. The thing is, I know myself well enough to know that when you hear what sounds like such a profound message- then, girlfriend, that means you need to listen...

The Things I Have Now

Twice this school year I've been 100% ready for a career change- for at least a few hours. I've even gone so far as to vet this idea to friends and family and check out my licensure prospects on the DESE website. 

Upon mentioning this to a collegue- who happens to be 10 years my junior- amidst a conversation about career paths and prospects her reply to me was this "Laurie, everything you have is everything I want". 

That statement gave me pause. Pause enough to remember and realize that I, too, once wished and worked and prayed for all that I have now.

I spent countless years and hours and tens of thousands of dollars to become what I am.

And on top of that, I've worked and learned for the past 12 years to hone my craft and continue to learn every single  day. 

So why now, why this year am I so eager to move on? So restless? 

Perhaps it's too much personal development. Too many books and podcasts about designing your future.

Maybe I truly have "Life ADD" as my husband told me so many years ago. 

Possible that I'm still not sure what I want to be when I grow up.

Maybe it's feeling overwhelmed so often by paperwork and to do's, by meetings and needs despite my passion for my work.

Or the cold and dark of winter and the lack of vitamin D is bringing me down. 

I don't know where my unrest is coming from but this is what I learned today.

This is the life I prayed for. This is the life I worked for. This is the career I encourage others to persue for the many rewards and benefits that come along with it (Summer's off and early retirement, anyone?!). These are the letters I sign with pride after my name. 

And if a career change is in my future, then it will come; just like this one did. And I will trust my path without worry, or fear knowing prayers are answered and life will guide me where I need to be. 

And so it is....

"Today I did my best"

I'm struggling. I've been struggling for a bit but today the struggle felt real. 

Work is overwhelming. I am overwhelmed with paperwork and evaluations and the needs of children. My to-do list is long and complex. My days are non-stop. My time is fleeting.

I am overwhelmed with the lessons that need to be planned. The IEP's that need to be written. The phone calls that need to be made.

I am overwhelmed by 2 hour meetings and the amout of time with children I am missing.

I'm pretty sure this is how burn-out starts. When the tasks overwhelm the capacity. When the joy is gone and in its place is paperwork.

But here's the thing. I love my job! I am passionate about language and learning and children! I love the smell of a school and walking into classrooms. I love collaborating with teachers and being able to support student success. 

I'm not going down without a fight!

So I must defeat the burn out. Quell the voices of comparison and "not good enough ness". Put things in perspective and remember the joy. Ride my passions for all their worth. 

I'm attempting this by remembering that "Today I did my best". Some days my best may look different, but who can ask for more than your best? Not my administration, my co-workers, parents and not even myself. 

My best is good enough. Every day.