Showing posts with label Wright School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wright School. Show all posts

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Celebrate!Calm

You may have gathered it from reading this blog already, but if you haven't, daughter #2 is what educator Kirk Martin calls an "intense child." Eight months in NC's wonderful Wright School helped, but day-to-day maintenance is critical and exhausting. With a child like this, there is no margin for error.

Schools, any schools, have even less patience for intense kids. They present as defiant, oppositional and rude. It's hard to see how terrified they really are. Schools are incredibly user-unfriendly to these kids and new models for interacting are needed, both at home and school.

I attended one of Kirk Martin's Celebrate!Calm workshops last week, and was astounded to hear him describing my child and the interactions we have in our home. The school cafeteria we met in was half-full, and all the other parents were nodding along with me. Martin describes his organization:

Based in the suburbs of Washington, D.C., Celebrate!Calm is a world-renowned educational organization that provides science-based training for educators, parents and children. While the research-based interventions help all children learn more effectively, the organization specializes in working with children affected by Aspergers, Autism, Sensory Integration, Opposition Defiant Disorder, Anxiety Disorder, OCD, ADD, ADHD and other learning or emotional difficulties.

The two hours were packed with information, which I found trustworthy because it was so similar to Wright School's methodology. Martin sells his CD series for what he admits is an exorbitant amount of money, partially because he wants it to hurt enough that people will listen to and use them. I knew I couldn't afford it, but then he announced a special individual price for people in financial need. I approached him at the break and we agreed on a very reasonable amount that I promised him still hurt considerably.

His sessions are free to participants and there is no real pressure to buy the CD's, which are worth every penny I spent on them. There is a set for teachers, for dads, for married couples and some for everyone. Check out his website and see if he's coming to your area. If you parent or teach an intense child, put it on your calendar. You won't regret it.

Monday, December 7, 2009

What's our philosophy?

I'm on a training subcommittee for SNAC, the Special Needs Advisory Council, for Chapel Hill/Carrboro City Schools. We spent almost two hours talking about the myriad trainings, both state or federally mandated as well as ones that dealt with methodology, and how one goes about evaluating whether they are effective or not. We were floundering. And though the other committee members did not share my certainty on the matter, I felt strongly that it's impossible to evaluate programs if one does not know what the philosophy of the school system is.

I've heard the quote that Christianity (my tradition) can be distilled into one sentence: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself. All the rest is details. The details are often what gets us into trouble, what with fighting over gay marriage, ordaining women, or birth control. But I think all Christian faiths would agree with Jesus when he said this is the first law and commandment. So I wandered around the rest of the day asking questions about school philosophies, both public and private, looking for the statement that summed us up when the details are stripped away.

Because I work in so many different schools and see how they are different, this is something that is front and center to me. Two private schools, Carolina Friends School and Jordan Lake School of the Arts, have such a clearly defined philosophy that they can be summed up in a sentence or two each: For CFS, it's Quaker Values—truth, respect, peace, simplicity, nature, service. JLSA's is more informal—We believe quirky kids have much to offer the world and we create an environment where they can be accepted and successful. Both schools have longer mission statements, but this core philosophy can be found in every decision that is made, down to the kind of copy paper used, how teachers are addressed, how decisions are made, and who cleans the school. A culture is created in which all participants buy in and actively seek to further. This helps with discipline problems, teacher retention and definitely with evaluation. I will write more about these two schools in later posts.

What I found with the Lincoln Center staff I talked to is that although they may have a personal philosophy—and most of them did—they had trouble articulating what the district's philosophy was. "Well, we DO have a mission statement," was a common reaction, but most couldn't remember what it was when put on the spot. The words diversity, partnering, high expectations, and doing what's right for kids were things that were mentioned. I talked to staff at Glenwood Elementary, my daughter's school, and found a very enthusiastic philosophy, but when I asked if it were the district's or the school's, we agreed that it was probably the school's. It was when I talked to school board members that I realized that we did have a governing philosophy, and some of them could articulate it well. There is a page on the CHCCS website called "Keeping our Eye on the Ball: the Focus of CHCCS", which is is intended to clarify mission, goals, and priorities, particularly for instructional staff members. Board members use this when making budget and policy decisions and several spoke with great passion about specific parts of the philosophy that meant a lot to them.

When I spoke to parents I was somewhat surprised and disturbed. The philosophy that many have spent time working on is not trickling down to a lot of the parents. A link on a website is no substitute for the culture that is created when all participants understand and buy into a governing philosophy. The way people are greeted by a receptionist, having phone calls returned, how complaints are handled, how a child who wets his pants is treated, how easy it is to find out how one gets a struggling child tested—all these things work together to create a culture. At Glenwood, Mr. Battle, the chief custodian, is one of the main reasons that school has such a strong and caring culture. His obvious love for the children and strong work ethic make him both a role model and a hero to the kids. Glenwood's Gator Show Choir teaches the whole school about excellence. The annual three day Sound to Sea field trip to the beach builds community as well as academic skills outside the classroom. I have seen this culture maintained by three different principals, so it's more than just leadership. But not all schools have such a strong built-in culture and Glenwood's is by no means perfect.

When I talked to parents in an admittedly unscientific poll, the overwhelming perception of the district's philosophy was "Education for all, excellence for none." This included EC parents, parents of the gifted and parents of typically developing children. There were pockets of satisfaction with specific teachers or programs, but a lot of frustration about having their children's needs met. Many of my friends who can afford it have pulled their children out to homeschool, utilize charter schools, or go to private schools. And I must admit that I have often felt that all that was cared about was EOG scores and that good enough was good enough. When IDEA was first implemented and schools no longer used the discrepancy model to label a child, my 2E older daughter, who had a 60 point discrepancy on some of her subtests, lost her IEP just as she was entering middle school. When I talked to someone at Lincoln Center about this, I was told, "We no longer have to worry about potential. All we need is a C." In middle school she was faced with classes that were either too hard or too easy, accusations of laziness in the area of her disability, an abusive teacher, and an unresponsive administration. In December of her 6th grade year, at her request I pulled her to homeschool her. I don't know if my daughter will be a candidate for Harvard or not. That's her choice. But I would like her to have the option if she does choose. And I certainly would like more than mediocrity.

When comparing philosophies it is not entirely fair to compare private schools to public schools. In this case we are talking about a whole system with the further complication of federal and state "regs", EOG's, and ever-changing mandates from the legislature. Their job is much harder. But I have seen Wright School, a state-funded mental health institution and school, deal with the same regs (and more) in a positive and life-enhancing way—because they have created a culture around the 12 principles of reeducation (I wrote about Wright School in November, "Education at its best"). I, perhaps naively, believe that with the right leadership and involvement at all levels, we can develop a supportive culture that lives up to the CHCCS philosophy that sits largely unknown. We are more than the regs; we are collective guardians of one of the most precious commodities in the world, our children, and it is our job to know what we believe, create our culture and to pass it on to them.

I didn't get my pithy philosophy statement until today. When I asked my daughter's EC teacher what she perceived the district's philosophy to be, she immediately answered, "You mean, all children will learn?" That's it, and the rest is details.


Monday, November 23, 2009

Wazi-Wazi, part 2

Since I talked about wazi-wazi last week, I've tried to be more thoughtful about how to prevent it in my children, my students and myself. We are fast approaching a season that is especially stressful, and many of us will feel off-center and beside ourselves. How can we protect our true selves?

A prime cause of wazi-wazi is hurried transitions. The Christian Church, the tradition from which I come, has always recognized that transitional times are dangerous times, and thus many of their sacraments center around those: birth, marriage, and death primarily. Other religions and cultures also have rituals that celebrate those milestones, along with coming of age. Even losing teeth has rituals in cultures around the world. Think about the rituals you have around birthdays, adoption days, anniversaries, and holidays. Ritual gives us a way to make sense of transition. Perhaps we should look at the smaller transitions in our lives and create rituals for those. How many tantrums occur when leaving, arriving home, going to bed and getting up? A tantrum is a sign that a child is in a state of wazi-wazi. One of the principles of re-education, used at Wright School where D#2 attended, states "Ceremony and ritual give order, stability, and confidence to troubled children and adolescents, whose lives are often in considerable disarray." It's not just troubled children who need this.

For daughter #2, Sunday nights and Monday mornings are very hard. I didn't even recognize this until our upstairs neighbor mentioned it (she could hear it!). Once I saw how discombobulating this transition time was to my daughter, I created a small ritual: time alone with Mom while D#1 was at youth group, hot chocolate, and a scone. A more relaxed time talking about the week ahead has made Sunday nights much more pleasant. And since Sunday nights have gotten better, so have Monday mornings.

Giving up a crib for a "big kid bed", potty training, welcoming a new sibling, the death of a pet, starting or ending school, all of these deserve recognition in a ritualized way. This is more important for some children than others. There are kids for whom anything done more than once is a tradition. Those kids especially need the comfort of ritual. It could be as small as a song for getting in the car or putting on shoes, and as thought out and prolonged as a party for the older sibs before the new one arrives, helping to choose a name, going to doctor's appointments with mom, and a welcoming ceremony. New clothes, lunch box, backpack, and school supplies herald the beginning of school in our house, as it does in many. Many people have school ending rituals as well. I taught for seven years at a boarding school with a dress code; on the last day of classes, the kids raced to the campus pond and jumped in, coat, tie, and all. Kids will often create rituals if we don't and they aren't always helpful ones. Sunday night anxiety, having to have the TV on when falling asleep, and tantrums in the grocery store are all child-created rituals. If you see a difficult transitional time developing, beat them to it with a ritual of your own or one you both invent.

To most children, tutoring is a bit like torture, and so I ease most of mine in with at least two games of the card game Blink. It's a fast-moving game that takes about two minutes and most of my students beat me handily. We're both laughing at the end of it, and then tutoring begins. It's an enjoyable signal that it's time to get to work. For some of my kids, those on the autism spectrum especially, doing the lesson in the same order each time prevents anxiety. A Wilson lesson is highly ritualized; after the first few lessons, a child always knows what to expect. This is often a comfort when dealing with a difficult subject.

As the holidays arrive, think about the rituals you have in your family. Which ones cause stress and which ones bring comfort? It may be time to ditch the unhelpful ones. It may be time to pay attention to those you care for and figure out what they need to keep them centered and that impostor self away. And while you are at it, think about yourself as well. A parent or teacher in his own state of wazi-wazi is sure to create it in others.


Sunday, November 8, 2009

Which wolf?

Pete, D#2's unit coordinator at Wright School, realized I was a person who loved and needed stories, and at particularly low points in our time there would tell me a new one. Here is the most healing story he told me, one that guides my day-to-day interactions with my students, my children, and others I come into contact with:

An old Navajo grandfather was walking with his grandson. He looked down at the boy and said, "Son, inside you and every human there are two wolves. One is a good wolf and one is an evil wolf, and they are fighting to the death." They continued walking in silence until the boy cried, "But Grandfather, which wolf wins?" The grandfather replied simply, "the wolf you feed."

Here's hoping that every child has people in her life who feed the good wolf.


Sunday, November 1, 2009

Education at its best

I have two wonderful daughters, and my first was an easy child, leading me to the spurious belief that my superior parenting was responsible for her charming and easygoing personality. Then came daughter #2, who knocked me right off my high horse. I eventually discovered that she has mental health issues, primarily anxiety, ADHD, and executive function deficits. With severe anxiety and little impulse control, this normally sweet child can do the fight or flight reaction equally well. She was expelled from her first daycare at age two and regularly ended up in school situations that increased her anxiety and aggressive behavior. Mental health support for children is sketchy at best, and finally I made the decision to send her to Wright School. Sending my child to a state-run, residential mental health treatment center was one of the hardest decisions I have made in my life. It was also one of the best.

Wright School (www.wrightschool.org) is in Durham, NC, and works with 24 (at a time) of the state's most violent and troubled children, ages 6-12, for six to eight months. They go home every weekend to practice what they have learned during the week. The school is based on the principles of reeducation and their long-term success with a difficult demographic is nothing less than phenomenal. They serve about 55 kids a year at a low cost to the state and no cost to the parent, and they are a national model for a program that works. So how do they do it? Here is MY theory:

1) The staff is, across the board and without exception, both competent and passionate about their work. There are not only guiding principles, but a deep-rooted culture around those principles. For instance, they don't yell at children. Never. And they don't make those children or their parents feel like failures.

2) Following the principles of reeducation, the staff doesn't assume something is wrong with the child. The presumption is that the ecology of the child's environment is out of balance, and all elements have to change. I had to change, daughter #1 had to change, the structure of day to day living had to change, and the school had to change, all along with D#2. We had a parent-teacher liaison who worked with me in a very pragmatic way. I had SO much to learn and adjust, and she was there to help me do it. What worked with D#1 didn't with this child and I had to find new ways to parent. We also had a unit coordinator who inspired me by the stories he told me (which you will hear at some point) and who infused me with hope.

3) Structure and clear expectations are key. She got constant feedback about her behavior and constant praise for the things she did well. We continue to do these things at home. We now have schedules and posted expectations.

4) All kinds of competencies were addressed: tying shoes, table manners, hygiene, social skills, and academics. As a child became more confident in these areas, she became less anxious about her performance. She knew what was expected of her.

5) They address a troubled child's academic problems directly. I'll quote director Debbie Simmers on this:
Children in a clinical population, like those at Wright School, often have co-occurring learning and language delays and/or disorders, as well as significant deficits with processing speed and/or working memory. A thorough academic assessment for children with mental health needs can illuminate learning issues that suggest to trained educators needed positive academic supports, in addition to positive behavioral supports. Individual and small group remedial instruction that accommodates and supports learning needs with direct instruction and a reinforcement system that initially rewards effort, in addition to results, is an empowering formula to increase learner engagement. A pattern of celebrated success often brings the child sufficient confidence to use the strategies s/he has learned to take academic risks that they formerly refused. Successfully using a strategy to independently sound out an unknown word lights up a child's face with hope for the future!
Wright School uses the Wilson Reading System to teach reading and Saxon Math for the spiral drill that brings math proficiency. They follow the NC Standard Course of Study but in a way that is accessible for learners with special needs.

Many of the things done at Wright School are transferable to the home and other school settings. In fact, staff will do trainings for teachers and other groups. I wish that all children could have the chance to be taught by teachers who are this good.

D#2 graduated from Wright School in May, 2009. She is mainstreamed in our districted public school; it's the first time in three years she has not been in a self-contained classroom. She regularly points out kids who could be helped by Wright School, and she often asks to go back to visit the staff. Life is not perfect, but we all have strategies to deal with our difficulties. We have hope once again.