I believe the children are our future.
Jan. 15th, 2011 11:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apple_pathwaysI ran into one of my old students last night. I don't run into the kids I tutor outside of the center very often, because I don't live around where I work. But, last night I went out for a meal with a friend who lives on that side of town, and I bumped into Taylor, a girl I tutored last year.
What always strikes me about Taylor is how mature and poised she is! She's 14 years old and in high school this year. I hesitated to go up to her, as kids can be awkward when they see you out of context. (Miss Amy exists outside of her job? She has a life, and friends? Impossible!) However, Taylor came right up to me and gave me a hug, and we had a nice chat about how she's doing in school this year. Instead of going into algebra, she dropped back into pre-algebra. At first she was kind of shy about telling me that, but when I assured her I thought it was a great idea, and said it must feel really good to be where she needs to be and not be playing catch-up all the time, she was much more enthusiastic. She has an A in the class, and got 100% on their last test. It was great to see her so happy and confidant. (I marvel when I think of how awkward and insecure I was at her age!)
Another example of my kids doing me proud came from Kyle on Thursday.
I was trying to teach Rory, my little ADHD princess, how to add decimals. This was my second attempt, and so far it's still a disaster. I tried to demonstrate with the base ten blocks: nothing. (She was much more interested in playing with them than in listening to my demonstration.) I tried to demonstrate using coins: nothing. I tried fraction pieces and explaining how 1/10 and 0.1 related to each other and were the same: NOTHING!
Now, she could very well start adding decimals without understanding exactly what they are and how they work: all she'd have to do is follow my instructions about "lining up the decimal point" and then add as usual. But she refuses. She goes to one of those expensive, touchy-feely schools that encourage kids to 'use their words' and 'explore' and whatnot, and she doesn't want to even try to solve the problems before she understands them.
UGH. Anyway, there was lots of tears and flailing and an epic display of drama that only my little Rory can perform. I told her that she doesn't need to get this on the first try, and that she can take as long as she needs, and that I only want her to try the problems; sometimes you need to learn how to do a math problem before you can understand why you do it a certain way.
Finally, after about 15 minutes of temper tantrum, Kyle gets up from his seat and comes over to us. I don't know everything about Kyle, but I do know that he is deaf and has a Cochlear implant, and also that he takes ADHD medication. I am guessing there might be some other developmental deficits going on there, but his mother never told us, and I don't need to ask. He's about 10 years old.
He comes over to Rory and says (paraphrasing): "Hey, it's Ok! Don't be upset! You can do it. Look at me: I'm deaf, and sometimes things are hard for me, but I don't let it make me sad. You shouldn't be sad either, because you can do it!"
My heart melted. Not only did he help make Rory feel a little better (even though, drama queen she is, she never did try those problems!), but he helped to remind me to be patient. I was getting frustrated with her, and though I think I did a good job of hiding it, his little speech went a long way in reminding me that these are little kids: they don't come equipped with all the skills and maturity they need to manage their frustrations, and keep at a difficult task until it's done; that's something that has to be taught. And it's part of my job to teach it.
What always strikes me about Taylor is how mature and poised she is! She's 14 years old and in high school this year. I hesitated to go up to her, as kids can be awkward when they see you out of context. (Miss Amy exists outside of her job? She has a life, and friends? Impossible!) However, Taylor came right up to me and gave me a hug, and we had a nice chat about how she's doing in school this year. Instead of going into algebra, she dropped back into pre-algebra. At first she was kind of shy about telling me that, but when I assured her I thought it was a great idea, and said it must feel really good to be where she needs to be and not be playing catch-up all the time, she was much more enthusiastic. She has an A in the class, and got 100% on their last test. It was great to see her so happy and confidant. (I marvel when I think of how awkward and insecure I was at her age!)
Another example of my kids doing me proud came from Kyle on Thursday.
I was trying to teach Rory, my little ADHD princess, how to add decimals. This was my second attempt, and so far it's still a disaster. I tried to demonstrate with the base ten blocks: nothing. (She was much more interested in playing with them than in listening to my demonstration.) I tried to demonstrate using coins: nothing. I tried fraction pieces and explaining how 1/10 and 0.1 related to each other and were the same: NOTHING!
Now, she could very well start adding decimals without understanding exactly what they are and how they work: all she'd have to do is follow my instructions about "lining up the decimal point" and then add as usual. But she refuses. She goes to one of those expensive, touchy-feely schools that encourage kids to 'use their words' and 'explore' and whatnot, and she doesn't want to even try to solve the problems before she understands them.
UGH. Anyway, there was lots of tears and flailing and an epic display of drama that only my little Rory can perform. I told her that she doesn't need to get this on the first try, and that she can take as long as she needs, and that I only want her to try the problems; sometimes you need to learn how to do a math problem before you can understand why you do it a certain way.
Finally, after about 15 minutes of temper tantrum, Kyle gets up from his seat and comes over to us. I don't know everything about Kyle, but I do know that he is deaf and has a Cochlear implant, and also that he takes ADHD medication. I am guessing there might be some other developmental deficits going on there, but his mother never told us, and I don't need to ask. He's about 10 years old.
He comes over to Rory and says (paraphrasing): "Hey, it's Ok! Don't be upset! You can do it. Look at me: I'm deaf, and sometimes things are hard for me, but I don't let it make me sad. You shouldn't be sad either, because you can do it!"
My heart melted. Not only did he help make Rory feel a little better (even though, drama queen she is, she never did try those problems!), but he helped to remind me to be patient. I was getting frustrated with her, and though I think I did a good job of hiding it, his little speech went a long way in reminding me that these are little kids: they don't come equipped with all the skills and maturity they need to manage their frustrations, and keep at a difficult task until it's done; that's something that has to be taught. And it's part of my job to teach it.
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Date: 2011-01-16 05:40 pm (UTC)I don't know if I could recite a long string of numbers backwards either. But now I am determined to try! (Of course, I'll need to find someone to read them out to me!) I am fantastic with words and numbers, but fairly rubbish when it comes to making pictures in my head. I can read a map well, but I am ridiculously bad with directions. I can get turned around less than a mile from my house. Somehow, this deficit also translates into me being absolutely horrendous at checkers, to the point where I'm regularly beaten by five year olds.
It's funny how everyone's brain works differently! I'm good at coming up with visual examples to help my students solve math problems, but my visual memory sucks. I routinely walk up to the wrong car in parking lots; as long as it's the same color and general shape as my car, it looks close enough to me!
What drives me crazy is that I am terrible at doing things other people find relatively easy. And because I'm generally pretty good at stuff other people find difficult, sometimes they think it's OK to tease me and make me feel stupid about getting lost easily, or not being able to find my car in the parking lot. I would never make someone feel stupid just because they couldn't graph a quadratic equation or calculate 6% sales tax in their heads!
That's one thing I try to impress upon my students: that all our brains work differently, and we each have our own strengths and weaknesses. And that it is OK to make mistakes and need longer to figure out certain things. It's tempting to try to brush it off when I make a mistake in front of them, or give the wrong answer, in order to save my pride; but instead, I try to acknowledge it and let them know that it's OK to get things wrong sometimes.