Fourth Grade Reflections

Neema Gaisi
Spring 2009

March 23, 2009

This is the day for me to start my second placement. I am going into the fourth grade
class. I had introduced myself to Ms. T the previous week where she informed me that,
“This is a whole different experience than where you are now. It’s a tough class.”
One thing that proved to me how different or rather how odd this class really is, was how
“normal” it was to have a student sitting facing the wall. He was the same boy whose
back I had seen practically every time I walked to the staff lounge.
On my first day, R varied his position from sitting up to tinker with his belongings,
placing his head on the desk and sleeping parts of the day away, or turning his body to
place his forehead on the wall. You had to pass him when entering or leaving the
classroom, so he you couldn’t miss him, yet he remained invisible, tucked away from the
rest of class during instruction time.
Everyone carried on, people walked in, students engaged in discussion, worked their
math problems on the board, and no one bothered to remember R. Life buzzed around
him as he slept most of it away.
During prep, Ms. T went on to inform me that since kindergarten, the school has tried to
place him in an appropriate facility, but the mother who is “mental” refuses to sign. He
went to a psych ward in January for three weeks, “tore up the place”, and was returned to
her class. He was drawn pictures of him shooting her and others, has brought in scissors
in the past, and would climb on the desks. He was placed in her class because she is a
tough teacher. That she certainly is.
I had heard of breaking in pair of new shoes, or people breaking in a wild horse, but for
the first time today, Ms. T explains how she breaks in her students her way. I understand
that setting rules and being firm are necessary for a class to have a sense of order, but I
was taken aback by how she verbalizes doing so.
For the remainder of the day, I took notes of the other students to familiarize myself with
their names. I sketched the layout of the classroom, which appeared gloomier than my
last class. I wrote down their schedule, did a social studies lesson with them, and helped
one student during recess with his math (adding fractions with uncommon denominators).
Throughout the entire day, I had R on my mind. I woke him up for lunch, watched him
get his coat, and observed him as we walked down to recess. He was sedated, calm, and
walked in the line. What is going on in his head, what is he thinking, what is he feeling? I
know that I couldn’t get him off of my mind even when I went home.
Will I be taking home every “problem” home with me?

March 24, 2009

First class, they are at the library which is just down the hall. They walk in very quietly to
their seats in the class and R sits in his alcove. The teacher is at a meeting and an aide is
sent in.
One of the student’s mother, who is a doctor, comes to speak about Women’s History
Month. She engages the children in activities and R is brought into the class. It was nice
seeing him IN the class. When she left, R went back to his seat. Things went back to
“normal.” Later in the day, the teacher had them make thank you card. Everyone delved
into writing and coloring their cards. I asked her, “What about R?” She said, “Oh, he’s
sleeping.” I was upset. He could have written a letter, I’m sure. What do I do? Should I
push it? Well, I wound up pushing it inside and carried on. Throughout the day, I’d take a
glance over to find him slumped on the desk, reading a bit, and fidgeting with his things.
I graded papers and did a language arts class.
I am not so happy being here. Should I “suck it up”, focus on what I can get out of this
class, and get the seven weeks over? Should I shrug my shoulders and say “That’s life
and not feel badly for R and his situation?
I tutor another girl on the math. I know all of their names and some of them wave as they
come in the morning and when they leave. They seem SO much older than the second
graders.
March 25, 2009
As I enter the classroom, R’s desk and chair are missing from their spot. He’s in the
classroom! What prompted her to move his seat? I didn’t even ask.
Literacy block is here and everyone takes out their textbooks except R. The teacher
doesn’t instruct him to do so and he has nothing to do. He’s sleeping on the desk, playing
with his pencils, and quietly flipping through a book. He takes out a juice box and takes a
few sips. I do a few pages from the comprehension book and he opens to the page.
“We’re on page 116, R,” I said. When I am done, the class works on writing a summary
of Anne Frank. R is not involved because “ he didn’t buy the book”- another excuse to
isolate him.
The teacher tells them that they will be having a social studies test on Tuesday. Rather
than have him sit there, I gave him the social studies textbook and told him to read
chapter 4. He said in a hardly audible voice, “Ok.” Yes, at least he’s doing something
productive. Five minutes later as I was checking the science packets, Ms. T takes the
textbook away from him. She tells him to read a book that he had on his desk, some
storybook by Silverstein. Why? Why won’t she let him read the textbook? I’m so mad.
She tells him not to drink his juice. WHAT IS THIS BOY SUPPOSED TO BE DOING
ALL DAY LONG?! He’s already isolated, next to being invisible. Then it’s the money
issue. He was playing with some coins and she wasn’t going to let that happen. Talk
about a control freak! He wasn’t bothering anyone, wasn’t disturbing the class in ANY
way, but she wouldn’t let it go. She told him to give her the money, but he simply
clutched his fist and wouldn’t let go. She pulled him up, put him in his little alcove and
buzzed the office.
Ms. T: I have a student that I want removed from my class.
Office: Who?
T: R.
O: Who do you want?
T: Pick a straw.
I was boiling, my heart was beating, and I didn’t know what to do. Tears weld up and I
tried to focus on the science papers.
A few minutes went by. R waited by the door looking out a few times, but remained calm.
The psychologist comes up and I couldn’t hold my tears or emotions anymore. I said that
I needed to speak with her. She followed me into the staff lounge.
I told her that I felt badly for R and that he does nothing in the class. Something has got
to be done because nothing good is going to come out of him being in that class. What is
everyone waiting for, I asked her. Are they waiting for something tragic to happen?
She went on to reiterate what the teacher had told me. Without the mother’s cooperation
he will remain in this situation.
I asked her why he can’t be taken away from her since she is negligent. Mental cases are
very hard to prove to child protective services. There’s no physical or sexual abuse,
therefore he remains with the mother. Essentially, the school’s hands are tied. He remains
where he is and that is that!
If he had a para to stay with him and at least became engaged in the classroom. If only he
was spoken to more kindly by the teacher. If she didn’t have to pick on every little thing
he did. If only.
This is where I stopped short of telling the psychologist what I observe in the classroom.
Do they know, do they agree with her handling, are they turning a blind eye and just
hoping that it will go away?

March 26, 2009

I walked in to see R sitting in the classroom and the teacher and psychologist talking.
Neither one of them looked up. I sheepishly looked for those science papers to finish,
wishing I weren’t here.
Things continued as if nothing had happened. Am I too sentimental, too emotional? Do I
need to toughen up and grow a thick skin?
Another mother comes in to talk about her job as a telephone repair woman. R seemed to
be interested and was attentive while she spoke.
We then went down to see a performance by “Bash the Trash”, a musical group that uses
trash as musical instruments. I sat one seat away from R and it was great to see engage
and clapping to the performance. He turned to me and smiled. I smiled back and clapped
along. It was fun while it lasted.
The class went back to a math test. R was given a test as well. One question though, how
is he supposed to take a test when his math book is untouched? When he is sent to school
medicated, sleeps, and is not engaged by the teacher? And then he is given a test?!
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I leave for lunch and when I come back I see a note “R refused to take the math test”
stapled on to the math test!!! What should I do? What can I do?

March 27, 2009

No School today, teachers are grading math assessments

March 30, 2009

It’s Monday. R is absent today and in a way I am relieved. I get to look closer at the rest
of the class and Ms T’s teaching styles and strategies. It is a well-run, organized 4th grade.
The students all know what is expected of them and have learned the routines very well.
The strong will of the teacher and the structure and guidance she has provided for her
students makes for a smooth running environment.
Whereas I may take a child aside and consult with him/her, she has no problem correcting
them or criticizing them publicly. “Miss A, who forgot her glasses, needs to sit on the
floor next to the board. Mr. B, don’t be talking to Miss C. At least she is not going to have
to repeat 4th grade. Miss D, you’re dressed inappropriately again today.” I guess that’s
what works for her and as I said, these children are on their best behavior, even though
I’ve heard that they’re a tough group. She doesn’t take nonsense from anyone.
She doesn’t send home “missing homework” slips. The same thing goes when she taught
3rd grade. They get a zero and that’s that.
They had a reading test on a story they read two weeks ago then read their science
chapter. They do a LOT of silent reading and answering questions at the back of the
chapter.
After lunch, they practiced the skills needed for the science state exam. They measured,
weighed, and compared their results. She reminded them to talk quietly but allowed for a
healthy noise level of active discussions. The way she gave out the material and collected
them was a very organized one. She selected a few students and each one was instructed
to collect a specific item. She was clear about where to place these items.
Students who she felt needed to study for social studies, she kept them from going to
music.