Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Schools....





This is a poem that I wrote years ago, when I started to understand that for many children, school was a terrible place. My own school experience was dreadful enough at times, but I was one of the system's successes ( which also has its price!)  It seemed to me that the school system simply perpetuated the limitations and prejudices of the society, and did its job to keep things that way.

Learn Your Lessons

Schools
are jails
where we put our children
for the day

Sing! Children! Sing!

You should
be happy
for this opp-or-tun-ity
to lose
yourself.

So Laugh! Children! Laugh!

And if you 
study your lessons
well
in time you won't mind
too much 
that you've been killed.

Friday, September 24, 2010

hibiscus in orange. ( water colour) Sept. 24, 2010

I seem to be fascinated with this hibiscus. I have many other flowers and objects to paint, but this flower keeps coming back up!   So.. this is the hibiscus for today.  Still working on technique, but making progress I think. Trying to get the contrast that is there, 'in real'.



hibiscus in orange





Sunday, September 19, 2010

hibiscus up close. (watercolour), Sept. 19, 2010.

hibiscus close up 

I am happy with this painting!  things are being remembered, as the paint flows across the paper, and new things learned.

 ( the photograph shows the peach colours of the actual painting, as a darker orange than they really are. May have to invest in a new camera..lol.)



flowering of the hibiscus in our yard



I am also learning how to talk and eat and even get some work done.. and paint!  



Saturday, September 18, 2010

Boat at Black Rock, Tobago. Sept. 18, 2010.




With new paints, brushes and a new supply of paper, I forge ahead. Beautiful paints to work with!

The colours are brilliant when used correctly. I had a couple of misadventures with them, until I got the water/paint ratio right. Still experimenting, but the materials are superior.  It feels good to stop the cleaning and dusting, and trips down memory lane, and get back into painting again! I like the sky the best, and it was done the most quickly.

 Thanks to all who made this birthday present happen!!! It takes a whole family to raise a mother!
 ( flown in all the way from Toronto, you know!)




Tuesday, September 7, 2010

the art of teaching.. learning to trust again...

the school garden


Today a past student phoned the school, to talk to the teachers. Since she graduated to secondary school,   seven years ago, she has called us faithfully each year, to let us know how she is doing in secondary school. And we have always been happy to know that she was doing very well.

When she called today, it was to tell us of her wonderful  CXC results. She has achieved all 1's and 2's, with distinctions in two of her subjects. Amazing results for any student, but more than amazing for this particular student!

This child's mother had found us, in a last desperate attempt to place her child in a primary school.  Previously the child had attended a school, where beating children was the most common form of 'motivation' for learning, and for discipline.  And because of this, she had first developed a total hatred for, and then fear of, reading. As time went along, this developed into a full phobia for school.

When she was taken to any school, following this negative experience, this child would start to scream and scream, and would become hysterical. She would hold on to her mother so tightly that the mother could not pull away from her, literally. The child was a large child, a seven year old, and she was very strong. And with this hysterical energy, she could control almost any adult.

As a teacher with some experience with school phobia, I knew that the only effective approach  for this condition, is for the child to be enticed to stay at school, even in her terror, and by doing so, learn that nothing bad or frightening was going to happen to her there. School phobia, like any other phobia, no longer relates to the present  real situation. The situation which originally caused the fear, is re-created in the child's mind, and  it is magnified. The terror is real to the child, even if the situation that caused the fear,  no longer exists.

On her first day at our school, after lots of talking and reassuring, and some bribery from the mother               ( Kentucky fried chicken as I recall), she had allowed her mother to leave the school. She was holding my hand, and it was a moment of real trust. She let go of her mother that day, and let her leave the school. That was the first big break through.

But just as the taxi pulled away, with the child's mother inside it, the child changed her mind, and started pulling away from me. I talked to her, and tried to regain the previous moment of trust. But I allowed her to  let go of my hand. She stepped a few steps away from me, and looked as if she was going to be calm, and believe what I was saying.

But suddenly the terror returned to her eyes, and she started to scream, " I want my mother!  I want my mother!"  I told her that her mother's car had already gone, but that I would personally look after her for the day, until she came back. And that I wouldn't let anybody or anything harm her. She looked at me, almost believing, posed between trust and terror. And then terror won out. She ran screaming toward the gate, that led out to a busy main road.

Two things were in my mind. The first was that she must stay at the school, so she could begin to learn that her terror was not needed here. If she escaped that day, it would be a continuation of her old pattern, and would be yet another triumph for her terror, instead of step toward conquering this fear.

The second was that she could, in that hysterical state, run straight out into the middle of the busy road, that ran in front of the school. So I followed my instincts, which is your most useful tool at these times, and decided to run after her. I did manage to stop her from running out into the road, and was even able  to begin to calm her down again. But then again the terror won out, and she started again to pull away from me. I held her tightly, as she pulled and fought to get free of me.

When working with a hysterical child, one method that has been shown to work, is to hold the child, until the hysteria subsides. This tends to make the child feel secure, and it ensures that the child does not hurt herself or anyone else. You then let the child go free once they have calmed down enough to be more rational.

 But this child was very big, and very strong. And it was only determination on my part that had me still holding on.  She pulled and I held on, and in the end, as we struggled, with me using all of my strength, and that not being enough, this hysterical, chubby little girl was on her back on the grass lawn  in the front yard of the school, and I was sitting on top of her. She was so strong that I had to use my weight to assist me, to hold her. She would try to get me off, and I would hold on just as tightly, determined  not to let go. It was like a wild horse ride, with much at stake!  As a teacher, you do what you have to do, as there are no book answers to these situations.

(These are not uncommon moment , in Special Education, for those who may be reading this with astonishment.)

While this wild situation was unfolding, I thought of what people who might happen to drive, or walk past  the school and witness this scene, would think upon seeing this white, slim teacher,  literally sitting on this little Caribbean child.  I didn't think it would be looked upon favourably! And I wasn't sure who would gain more sympathy, the child or myself.  As luck would have it, no one passed on the road or the sidewalk, at that moment.

In time, one of my students noticed the two of us, playing bucking broncho in the front yard, and went to the other teacher to say that she thought I might need some help. That teacher had been heading the Assembly, attended by  all the other children of the school, and had just dismissed them to go to their classroms. She  had not noticed our absence from the larger group.

When she realized my predicament, she ran to my assistance.  I calmly asked  her to call the secretary too, for assistance, and she too came running. I asked the secretary to lock the gate of the school, for the child's safety, and with that done, and with  the teacher there to assist me, I let the child get up. The two of us were holding her.  By this time, the child's energies had been spent,(and mine too I might add!) and she had started to just cry. But the terror was gone.

At this point we were able to free her, and let her know that she was safe, and we started to walk, around the very large and lovely school yard.  The other teacher was able to draw her into a conversation about things that she liked in the school yard, while I went inside to recuperate.

 But what really caught the child's attention, was the school garden. When they  reached the large school garden, the child just started talking about gardening, and how she liked it, and about the food she could grow there, and what she liked to eat.  She talked about the foods that she had helped to cook. (She just loved food!)

The child stayed at the school that day, and was calm. She was given only the most pleasant things to do, and we talked to her throughout the day, any time we saw the fear rising up in  her. We had made a major breakthrough. Her mother was very surprised that we had not called her to come and get her child. So much so that the mother phoned to find out what was happening.

The next week, with a bag of Kentucky Fried Chicken in her hands each day, the child arrived at the school. Some days the look of terror would return, but it would be fleeting. And again, nothing was demanded of her, except that she stay at the school. It was a touch-and-go week, but we all made it through it. And the other students, sensing that this was a special situation, came to her assistance too. Everyone respected that her fear was real, but that is was not needed here.

After that first week, there was no return to the phobia.We gave the child only activities that she was guaranteed to succeed at. The child became stronger and more confident each day. And, as she was a very smart little girl, she soon joined in the school activities, and excelled in many of them.  Sometimes she needed a little special attention which she would get from one of the adults, or from the children themselves. Children, at their best, can be very sensitive and caring little people, and they showed this frightened student that care and sensitivity, as only children can.

But the garden remained this child's favourite place, and Agriculture remained her favourite subject. (Not surprising that one of her distinctions at the CXC level, was in Agriculture!)  She learned to read, and do all that was necessary to progress through the grades, and she succeeded at the dreaded Common Entrance Examination, at the age of eleven, and entered Secondary School. Only 43% of the children of  Tobago were allowed to 'pass' this exam at that time, because that was the number of places available . She left our school, a very confident student. She would let nothing hold her back!  She gave school her full attention, and had incredible focus.

So, today, when she called to tell us of her success, and her future plans, we all felt the shivers of pride! For we  shared the knowledge of the true story... of the bravery that was needed on that first day, by all of us.... the first step toward trusting again!


the said lawn!

Sunday, September 5, 2010

the art of teaching Sept. 2010


Today I got an e-mail from one of my students. She sent me some pictures of the trophy she had won
at a tennis competition in Trinbago. She is a Grade 4 student of our school.

  And with the letter she sent this message:

Love what you have and what you are....






you can't get better than that! 


 (encouragement for school opening tomorrow!  Makes me remember why I do this!)



Friday, September 3, 2010

the art of horse riding - a trip down memory lane. Sept. 3, 2010.

the daredevil in me



I was always a very physically agile child, and felt comfortable at the top of a tall tree, or swinging from a rope swing that we had in our barn loft.  In this picture, we are practising this little horse riding 'feat', for the annual parade in our town. We often rode horses in the parade, but this year we were going to do something surprising and spectacular.  ( I am the one standing at the back, and the others are my brothers and sisters.)

This work horse, which my dad did use at the time, for pulling hay racks and wagons, was a very gentle soul with children. He would step so carefully, to give you the best smooth ride.  He would go slowly and carefully. And because of the width of his back, it was a most comfortable ride, almost like being on a big and comfortable cushion.

But if an adult rode him, he became suddenly very obstinate and difficult to control. He would try to rub the rider off, by passing very near the trees or bushes. And he had other tricks, like giving you a 'hard and uncomfortable ride', by making it as rough as he could.  And his main aim, with an adult or older person, was to gallop straight back to the barn!   

His name was King.  The other member of the horse team was his mother, whose name was Silver.  And he always hated being separated from her, even for a short ride. In order to take him out for a ride, his mother had to be out on the ride too! Otherwise he would make the most awful sounds, and he would snort, and rear  up on his back legs  and paw the air., until  they were together again.

He weighed one tonne! (1 long (or gross) ton = 2240 pounds (UK). We were proud to say that it was the UK tonne and not the American ton .


 So he was not an animal to 'play with', unless of course you were a little child. Then his personality became so gentle and kind and he was always very reliable. That is why we were using him for our ultimate act!

  However, as fate would have it, this trick did not get past the practice phase, as suddenly the whole line of little children started to slide to one side, and we all ended up on the ground.  I don't know what caused that to happen that day, as we had done this before quite successfully.  So, that was the beginning and end of our acrobatic stage!  We never tried anything like that again, at least not on the back of a horse! ( We did enter the parade with all the same children on the horse, but I was sitting this time, too.)

Just as an extra detail, we liked to ride this horse, sitting backward,  just for fun. And he would continue nicely on his way, going around the familiar yard, quite obediently.  And when we wanted to guide him back to the barn, we would turn around again, this time facing the correct direction, and give him the command to go back to his beloved barn!

This all seemed perfectly normal and just plain fun to us, at that time. Looking back on it now,  I realize that as children we were given a lot of freedom!


( You can see that there have been no new paintings. Instead, I have been house cleaning, and going through drawers that contain a great deal of family history!)













Wednesday, September 1, 2010

'the rose' (a poem) 1976

The Rose

A rose
the perfect form
turned red by time
exists

Dew upon petals
formed into droplets
magnifies the delicacy
of this being

Rough winds shake
the delicate fragrance
from its petals
but time alone
will erode this innocence.

by Mary Hall