E.D. stands for emotionally disturbed in the world of special education. For the last four and the next eight days, this is my world. I'm subbing at a small charter school which serves emotionally disturbed junior high and high schoolers.
When I worked at Summit View in 2011, the line was basically that every day could be different; you never knew who would comply, who would crack up, who would defy, who would break down. This school is the same. I never know who will show up for school, where they will be on campus, or if they will ever enter my room, even if their name is on my roll sheet. Most of the kids are fine, but there are still some defiant, rude, foul-mouthed stinkers. One student I could only recognize by two square inches of his lower face; he's afraid of germs right now, so he keeps his hood tightly cinched around his head (strangely, he still let me near him to ask about his work, even though I had a bad cold). Another student got mad when I shushed him during class, and a third kid piped up during art and said that he wanted his teacher back, that he was tired of looking at me. These are just a few of the stories I could tell; it's draining, to say the least.
I'm thankful for it, though. The call for this long-term sub job came from God out of nowhere; He is caring for Amos and me.
If you think of me, please feel free to pray that I will be firm, wise, and kind with these broken, broken kids.
When I worked at Summit View in 2011, the line was basically that every day could be different; you never knew who would comply, who would crack up, who would defy, who would break down. This school is the same. I never know who will show up for school, where they will be on campus, or if they will ever enter my room, even if their name is on my roll sheet. Most of the kids are fine, but there are still some defiant, rude, foul-mouthed stinkers. One student I could only recognize by two square inches of his lower face; he's afraid of germs right now, so he keeps his hood tightly cinched around his head (strangely, he still let me near him to ask about his work, even though I had a bad cold). Another student got mad when I shushed him during class, and a third kid piped up during art and said that he wanted his teacher back, that he was tired of looking at me. These are just a few of the stories I could tell; it's draining, to say the least.
I'm thankful for it, though. The call for this long-term sub job came from God out of nowhere; He is caring for Amos and me.
If you think of me, please feel free to pray that I will be firm, wise, and kind with these broken, broken kids.
1 comment:
Will do, Jennica! I'm glad they have you. :) - Lizbeth
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