Sapping my strength


What do you do when you have one child who simply saps every bit of your energy?

One child who demands your constant attention, whose burning need to be special and different pulls you away from every other child all day long?

What do you do when you are faced with a vulnerable, needy, lost child whose parents have allowed her to think that she has the right and the power to control the actions, words, thoughts and opinions of every other child in your class?

I don’t know.

But I know that I am becoming increasingly angry and frustrated with this situation, and I know that my frustration and anger are fueling this child’s need to continually seek my assurance that she is, in fact, more special and deserving than anyone else in our community.

I am caught in a vicious cycle.  And I truly don’t know how to get out.

This little girl is so desperate for validation and attention that, quite literally, every time I call on her, she coughs/chokes/swallows her gum/trips on a word so that we are all left waiting for her to finally speak.  Every eye is trained on her, every ear is waiting for her words.

This girl manufactures injuries so that we can hold the door for her, get her some ice, ask if she is OK, dote on her. She drums up conflicts so that we can all process the differences of opinion.

She is the last to line up, pausing to tie her shoes and making the rest of the class wait for her. She asks if she can eat her lunch in the classroom because her head hurts. (“No, honey. You can go to the nurse, but you can’t stay in the classroom because I won’t be here the whole time to supervise you.”)

The entire grade is told that they must either choose one of the band instruments to play, or join the grade level chorus.

This child tells me that she plays the guitar, so she should be able to skip both band and chorus.  I repeat the school rules, and she answers, “Yes, but I play the guitar, so its different for me.”

I don’t mean to be harsh. I don’t mean to be heartless.  But every time this child finds a way to drain off my attention and my energy, I want to scream at her (and her equally entitled parents), “This class has a child with autism. It has a child from a third world country who has witnessed terrorism and war.  One of your classmates has a mental illness. One has witnessed violence in his own family.  You are so incredibly and overwhelmingly NOT special.  Not the way you want to be special.”   I resent the way she drains me. I resent the way that she tries to control every interaction in our classroom so that she is always cast in the very best light.

I resent her parents, and the time that they demand from me.

What do you do when one family just doesn’t understand that they are only one teeny tiny piece of the complex puzzle that makes up a school community?

 

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3 responses to this post.

  1. Maybe you could share this with them: http://youtu.be/fuBmSbiVXo0

    Reply

  2. Umm, thank you. Because sometimes a kid can completely clash with a teacher. That’s just the reality of people. And I so very much appreciate your honesty.

    Reply

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