When Behavior Plans Go Wild

Ones of tens of you spoke. I listened. Brought to you by the Facey Face fans, here are the behavior plans I have written that have fallen, well, flat on their facey faces. And just because I’m feel benevolent, I’ll throw in the learning point in a bold type, so if you are slammed with end of the year assessments like I am, you can get the tips and come back later in the summer for the deets when you have your Mai Tai and Calypso music playing in the background of your glorious, glorious summer off.

1) The Cat that Trained the Bounty Hunter

This is a tale I literally could not make up, so you know it is a true story. I had a teacher once ask me to make a behavior plan for “Doug.” She went on and on about how Doug’s behavior was escalating and she didn’t know what to do for him. Every morning: “Can we talk about Doug’s behavior plan?” One day, she had her hand all bandaged up and she pleaded for me to write the plan. The only problem? Doug was her FRIGGIN’ CAT. Yes, that’s right, she was harassing someone with a 1:2500 psychologist to student ratio to help her with her cat.

Doug was scratching and biting her all the time and she didn’t know what to do. I finally gave in and asked what was the antecedent to Doug scratching her (seriously, was I really using my Ph.D. for feline behavior plans?). And it went a li'l something like this:

Crazy Person: Well, every day I put Doug in his cat carrier and then I reach in to pet him and he scratches me. Even my vet said not put him in a carrier and don't to try to pet him in there. Then this morning, I reached in his cat carrier to pet him, and he mangled my arm.”

Me:

CP: So what should I do?

Me: Um, don’t put him in a carrier and don’t reach in to pet him?

And this part isn’t related to the behavior plan, but this woman was a BOUNTY HUNTER before she was teacher. I shudder.

Learning Point 1: Don’t do the same thing over and over again and expect a different outcome. You must change your behavior if you want the behavior of another to change (cat or otherwise).

Learning Point 2: Back awaaaaaay from the crazy person and try not to get too depressed that this woman is teaching children.*

2) Careful What You Wish For…

A few years back, I worked with this delightful 4th grade girl who had, shall we say, excellent verbal expression. However, it was much too colorful for prime time school hours and it was often expressed at inappropriate times and for very seemingly minor events. She was a girl who had a keen sense of justice and I think fancied herself a bit of an expert in…um…everything. True, she was a gifted little poppet, so she did know a lot. But she was the first to point out the teacher’s mistakes or classmates’ lack of understanding, and not in a polite way. She called kids names if they disagreed with her, and often insisted that she be heard by getting on her chair and screaming.

We decided to harness her desire for verbal expression and attention (the presumed function of her behavior) into another behavior that could meet the same need, but not disrupt, oh, EVERYTHING. We gave this little Poppet her very own Expression Journal and when she had a point that she wanted to make, she was to write it down and share it with her teacher during recess. This teacher was a secret psychologist at heart, because she sat down every recess with her and validated her thoughts while giving her an alternative (e.g. “You wrote, “Henry is a f***ing idiot.” How about we revise that by writing, “Henry has ideas I disagree with!”)

Well one fine day, this teacher conducted an experiment that required a little deception to illustrate her point. The rest of the class got it and thought it was funny. Well, Poppet FLIPPED OUT when she found out her teacher had "lied." She stormed off to the back of the class, in a corner, and wrote a five paragraph persuasive essay about why the teacher should be fired. It had great structure, with supporting evidence, and a friggin’ conclusion. “In summary, Mrs. X should be terminated because a) b) and c)...” And I heart this teacher because after reading a manifesto on how terrible she was, I heard her say to the girl, “Excellent use of your expression journal!”**

Lesson #3: Sometimes you have to settle for the next least inappropriate behavior before you get to the appropriate one. Celebrate small victories in the right direction instead of holding out for perfection.

3) Double Stuff THIS

I have read 8 hojillion behavior plans and behavior goals in my day. That’s a scientific fact. Some are excellent, specific, measurable, attainable, and revised frequently to sustain efficacy and I shed a tear of joy. Most I come across are mediocre, but not harmful. They tend to be too general (“Diego will do his work”), negatively worded “Anna will not curse”), or non measurable (“Curtis will improve his classroom behavior.”) They are easily fixable. Then, there are the ones I read that make me think the Cat Bounty Hunter was reemployed and got a job writing behavior plans.

I kid you not, I came across a behavior plan that had a goal for an Autistic child to eat the middle of an Oreo cookie to address his issues with sensory sensitivities. Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! On so many levels:

a) Not heart healthy
b) Not educationally relevant
c) Not cost effective
d) Not a functional adaptive skill
e) What’s next year’s goal: ability to tolerate frustration of Oreo crumbling when he dunks it in milk?

Lesson #4: Make the goal educationally relevant or at least teaching a life skill that is useful outside of the classroom, and

Lesson #5: For the love of Pete, consult with your school psychologist for help with writing behavior plans!



*Thankfully, she did not come back a second year to teach. Hopefully, she never taught again. She asked me for a letter of reference a few years later and I respectfully declined. Actually, she also didn’t really ask me, but rather sent me an email demanding I write one. I declined to answer the email.

**Follow up story: Poppet took it one step further. The next day, Mrs. X got a note from the "superintendent" approving her request and she put it in Mrs. X’s mailbox. The writing was suspiciously like Poppet's. Gotta give her props for her creativity. Luckily, Mrs. X was a secret psychologist and didn’t take it personally.

From the eMailbox: Top 5 Questions I Get as a School Psychologist

I love when peeps write me with their burning school psychologist questions. (Insert curmudgeon voice): In MY day, we didn’t HAVE bloggers to write burning questions to. We had to CALL them or have a gypsy explain what school psychology was in a chance meeting in a restaurant in Reno, Nevada. Ahem. I digress.

I do love getting inquiries about our fine profession. As my BFF teacher blogger friend, Mrs. Mimi says, getting an education degree is the biggest purchase she has made. It’s good to know if working in education is a good match for you. AGREED. I accidentally looked at my student loan balance the other day, saw the 2034 payoff date, and shed a little tear. It’s best to know if school psychology is right for you before you throw down years of your life and heaps of cash. So, without further ado, here you go:

1) Is it true that school psychologists mostly do only assessment, writing reports, and doing paperwork?

Yes. Doh! I bet you did not see that coming. My blog is mostly about the non-assessment times—the counseling, the teachable moments, the funny interactions and the curious ways I navigate Bureaucracy Monsters. That is because no one would read a blog about me writing psychoeducational assessments. “Hey gang! I just thought of a new way to describe the phonological segmentation subtest!” Zzzzzz.

That being said, I have two points.

First, psychoeducational assessment is fun. I enjoy it. I like figuring out the puzzle of how a kid learns best, having the one-on-one interaction with kids, helping them see their strengths, and weaving in sneaky social-emotional assessment along the way. I think the way kids approach tasks, how they react to success and failure, what they do when tasks become hard, and what they say during testing is more important than the score. Sure, giving the same test a zillion times can be boring, but each kid approaches it in a different way, so it makes it okay. It is an opportunity to have therapeutic moments in the context of kids’ most important job—learning and doing well in school.

Second, report writing can be fun. Okay, fun is a strong word. It is certainly time consuming and can be redundant. I would rather be with kids than writing about kids, but I see the report as a way to communicate all the gems of information I found out about a student with the teachers, parents, support staff, and even the student. If my report changes someone’s view on the student, then they are more likely to change how they interact or teach the student. It’s one of those subtle ways to make a difference in a kid’s life. It doesn’t make for good Hollywood movies or blog posts, but it can be powerful stuff.

Third, (fine, so I have more than two points—quelle surprise) I have a unique situation that I have crafted for myself so I don’t do just testing and report writing. I am in a fairly progressive district in that they have funding structures set up for increased counseling time at school sites. An even more progressive district would have Response to Intervention and there would be even less testing, more intervention. Also, I am part time in the school district and part time in private practice (see question 4 below) so I get a mix.

2) What are the things you like the most about your job?
The yoots! Obviously. That answer is way too easy. Some of the other things I enjoy: the variety, the action/drama, the collaboration with others, the school schedule (como se dice SPRING BREAK and summers off?), the challenge, seeing inspirational teaching, and talking with tons of different people every day. I’m an ENFJ, I thrive in social chaos.

3) What do you dislike?
Knock knock. Who’s there? The Bureaucracy MONSTER.



It’s always there. It always knocks on my door and has me fill out a piece of paper I already filled out 4 times. Like the little Weight Watchers Monster, it is lurking everywhere. Only instead of donuts (yum) it lurks with paperwork that I have to do. It steals away my time with the kids. It keeps me from having a working plug in my office which creates a trip wire situation when I plug in my laptop or baby space heater since there's no heat. It prevents a nice quiet space to work in with a working phone and voicemail. Oh, my kingdom to have voicemail…Boo on the Bureaucracy Monster.

Another hazard of our profession is that it’s a job that is very hard to employ traditional time management skills, even if you are a super organized nerdy nerd like myself. ** When you have a never-ending to-do list and no real way to prioritize one kid over another, you end up being frantically paralyzed on some days. And unlike a corporate job, the result of not getting to your action item has an effect not on a bottom line, but on kids lives. Not to get all hero complex on you, that’s just a perspective I have when I don’t get to all my students in a day. Truth is, they survive, but I find myself wanting to do more, Every. Single. Day. If you like a sense of completion, you will not like this job. Sorry, but there are few nice and neat therapy boxes. You do your best, plant the seeds, and hope they grow.

4)What is the difference between a masters/specialist-level and a Ph.D-level school psychologist? What are the advantages of having a Ph.D.?

We have established that I loved school so much I played it on the weekends. I get giddy when I see Target’s back to school ads. A Ph.D. was a clear choice for a school nerd like me. Now, if you are deciding between a Masters level or Ph.D. level program, here’s some things to consider:

Lemmie break it down, and people, do correct me if there are situations in your states that are different. In California, you do not need a Ph.D. to be a school psychologist, but some school psychologists have Ph.Ds. You DO need a Ph.D. to be a clinical psychologist (or commonly referred to just as “psychologist”). I realize this doesn’t make sense, semantically, that a psychologist is different from a school psychologist. But it is. I will put them in a hierarchy from least training/time to most training/time. More is not always better, mind you there are FAB masters level school psychologists, and Ph.D. level psychologists that I wonder if their license came out of a lucky cracker jack box.

a) Masters Level/Specialist School Psychologist: As the name implies, it requires a Masters degree. Usually it takes about 2 years coursework and 1 year internship. You are ready to go work in a school district.

b) Licensed Educational Psychologist: This exists only in California, as far as I know. This is a school psychologist (M.A. or Ph.D.) who has 3 or more years experience and can pass a state test to do private practice. They can do psychoeducational assessments and therapy as long as the therapy is for a school related issue.

c) Ph.D. Level School Psychologist: Ph.D. programs in school psychology usually take 5-7 years on average. You typically get your M.A. and credential along the way to getting your Ph.D. When you finish, you are ready to go to work in a school district with fancier business cards and possible a slightly higher pay scale. You can thrown down, “Um, that’s DOCTOR Branstetter, Ms. Annoying Advocate who doesn’t really understand how these things work.” Other advantages: You can teach at the University level to train future school psychologists, some districts may be more likely to hire you because you have more training.

d) Licensed Psychologist: This requires a Ph.D. and TONS of post-doctoral supervised clinical hours of experience. You also have to take a state and national test and pay a hojillion dollars for the privilege of taking them. Oh, did I say that outloud? I’m still a little bitter. Anyhoo, a licensed psychologist can do private practice, which includes psychoeducational assessment and counseling. They are not limited to only kids and school-related issues.

What’s important for people considering school psychology is that the job is exactly the same if you are employed by a school district, regardless if you have a M.A. or Ph.D. I do the same work as my friends without Ph.Ds. If you are content to work in the school in this role, no need to get a Ph.D.

Advantages of the Ph.D. include more training (usually in the area of research and clinical/counseling training), fancier business cards, and the ability to go on and do private practice. This is what I did. I got my school psychology M.A. and credential, began working in the schools and simultaneously did my dissertation while working part-time (oh! The painful memories!) A dissertation is no easy feat, my friends, especially while working in your first few years as a school psychologist. But I survived, and then did additional post-doctoral work to be a psychologist (again, a licensed psychologist credential is a whole new set of training, tests, and supervised professional experience).

Oh, and I don't know how Ed.Ds or PsyDs fit into all this. If anyone does, do explain.

5) Why are you so awesome?

Okay, fine, no one has ever asked me that.

* Of course, it wouldn’t be my blog if I didn’t offer a disclaimer. My advice is based (and biased toward) my own experiences. It’s probably pretty Californiocentric as well. Don’t go makin’ life changes on my word only. I don’t want to get hate Email down the road: You said you loved your job and I hate mine!
**What? You don’t use a label maker to label all your spice jars and put them in alphabetical order too? Huh.

The Therapy Box: You Can't Fire Me, I QUIT!

I have this fantasy every year that my students I counsel in the schools all suddenly become self-actualized on June 15th or so. On the last day of school, they all finally "get it" and together, we magically get to tie the bow on the therapy box together. Off they go, with their newly developed coping skills in their therapy box, always readily accessible for their summer plans and the next school year.

This is a fantasy.

Last year, I thought I made a breakthrough with a girl who was cutting herself. We had a beautiful session together in May in which she proudly admitted she didn't need to cut anymore. I started imagining her perfect therapy box tied up with a neat little ribbon. Oh, and then she ran away from home and I never saw or heard from her again. Around that same time, I had a boy leave a beautiful reflective session with me at the end of the year only to hear he punched out a kid the same day.

This year, around January, I had a breakthrough with one of my boys I'm trying to keep out of a gang, and then lo and behold, today, he was back to the mentality he had when I met him.

My final hope for a tidy end to therapy is a girl I work with who has basically refused to talk to me about anything remotely related to feelings all year. As in:

Me: How was your weekend?
Her: Weekend-ish.

Me: How would you like to spend our time together today?
Her:

Me: Perhaps you would like to pick something from this menu of activities?
Her:

Me: We can sit here in silence if you would prefer. I'm okay with that too.
Her:

AAAAAAAAAARRG. She finally opened up around February and we have been getting into some pretty serious conversations together. Ah, I can envision the therapy bow neatly wrapping up the....screeeeeeeeeeech...(record scratches). And we're back to square one today and she is radio silent again.

Fortunately, I have enough experience to know that the resurgence of the issues that originally brought the student to counseling at the end of the school year is a common process. As kids anticipate the "end" or "termination" of the school year and the therapeutic relationship, they begin to present the original symptoms. It's as if to say, "See? I still need you." Then there are others who have difficulties with transitions and goodbyes, and want to be in control of the situation, so they push back against my efforts. It's as if to say, "Hey! You can't fire me, I quit you!"

These "termination issues" are challenging if you don't realize they are coming. They happen sometimes on the classroom level as well. And not to be a Me-Monster, but check out this article about how to help kids with the last days of school.

And for the record, yes, therapists can experience termination issues too. I am already missing my students. But I won't be acting out...I promise.

You are My Fire, People.

I used cognitive behavior therapy techniques on myself this morning in order to get my “ssa backwards”* to the gym today. Sometimes, you have to light your own fire, so to speak. I told myself: “You never feel worse after going to the gym” and “You are stressed from end-of-year assessment panic season and you will feel better.” Those didn’t work to motivate so I tried, “Those vegan candy bars you have been eating every day are not actually healthy just because they are vegan, missy.” That one sealed the deal.

I arrived to find my favorite machine available**. I put in my headphones and shuffled my music. Music is amazing how it can trigger memories, isn’t it? When I hear Salt ‘N Pepa, I think of junior high, when I hear Frank Sinatra, I am transported back to my first dance with husband at our wedding. I have long thought that music is a great way to reach students as well. I know that I still sing a stupid skip-count song in my head when doing multiplication. Those jazzy "Skip Count Kid" songs are burned into every layer of my brain.

Anyhoo, when my heart rate was about 145, within my target heart rate, a song came on that reminded me of a class of middle school students with developmental disabilities. I just can’t escape work. But this particular song made me smile, and you will love that it is a Backstreet Boys song. Hello. My name is Rebecca, and I like the Backstreet Boys. Because I am apparently a 12 year old girl in the late 1990s. So I am totally going to date myself, but this song, I Want it That Way was enormously popular in my first year of graduate school when I was doing my first year placement in the schools. Allow me to refresh your memory. *warms up voice* Mi mi mi mi…

You are my fire
My one desire
Believe when I say
I want it that way

Is it coming back to you yet? If I was fancy, I would know how to put an MP3 file of the song on my blog entry. So why does this remind me of a class of developmentally delayed students? Because I met this teacher who had his class put together a music video to this song. I’m not sure what standard it was related to, but I’m sure some tech one. In any event, the teacher showed me the video and it was friggin’ awesome. It reminded me of a bad karaoke video. The kids were playing out the lyrics, but they were super literal about it.

You are my fire was met with an image of a flickering flame
My one desire: kid holds up a sign with the number 1 on it
Believe me when I say I want it that way: kid points to another kid and nods his head.

I mean, how awesome is that? Then it became a bit more “abstract” as the two kids held hands around the school and pretended they were in love and stuff. But nerdy me always thinks of this as a good example of how kids move from the concrete to the abstract in learning concepts. Literal analysis is expected of younger students and students with developmental delays. I once had a kid with autism freak out on me because I said, “Give me your hand” and he thought I literally wanted to take his hand, not hold it. I have had parents worry that their kids don’t understand idioms, don’t make inferences in reading or get the big idea, or only understand math algorithms and not the concept behind it.

So how do you help kids move from the concrete to the abstract? Teachers will know these things, but I thought I’d spell out some general ideas and let all y’all contribute more:

1) You must understand typical cognitive development in order to calibrate when difficulties with abstract thinking are normal or an area of difficulty. I think of one of the grandfathers of developmental psychology, Jean Piaget, who has a beautiful theory about when kids’ levels of abstraction develop.*** To oversimplify, kids are not “mini-adults” capable of reasoning like we do. They do not begin to grasp abstract concepts fully until around age 12, and even then, there is variability. Younger kids can make abstractions, but often need concrete materials to do so.

2) Use concrete aides to illustrate abstract concepts. For example, if you are working on helping early elementary kids categorize and think of the “big idea”, you could borrow from my favorite gal, Maria Montessori, and use materials. Get a bunch of objects/toys/pictures and have kids sort them into categories (e.g. transportation, food, things you use in school, things you use in the kitchen, fruits)

3) In math, use actual manipulatives to teach abstract concepts. For example, use a balance to teach equivalence, use base-10 blocks or money to teach place value, or use 3-D objects for geometry, etc.

4) For older students, creating meaningful, real-world examples is another way to help with abstraction. For example, use surveys to teach statistics, have a mock trial to teach civics, role-play a fake stock market to teach about the great depression (um, or about today's economic crisis), use gardening to teach science, measurement, and math, teach metacognitive reading strategies on how to connect text to other text, yourself, and your world. Make writing meaningful with these strategies.

5) Understand that having a disability can pose challenges for abstract thinking. For example, students with auditory processing problems or students on the autism spectrum may need assistance in non-literal language (e.g. idioms, nuance, inference). Students with developmental delays, like my video-making friends, may need real-world modeling, concrete aides, and explicit instructions/explanations (e.g. “you are my fire” is a term that some people use to say they love someone, because they feel warmth in their hearts).

6) So. Much. More. I have only touched the tip of the iceberg (not literally) on how to make abstract concepts concrete. Now it’s your turn to share your favs…be sure to include what age group you work with!

p.s. You are all my fire...for writing this blog, that is.

*Term courtesy of my mom. Love it.
**I wish there was a velvet rope around this machine. It is the only one that monitors heart rate and I just love data. Nerd alert.
***I am full of distractions today. But know that my old advisor from Berkeley met Jean Piaget in the 1960s and flew with him in a helicopter from Berkeley to San Francisco to catch a flight instead of driving the 15 miles to the airport. Who knew that generating a theory of development was so lucrative?

I Got Served Again...This Time by the Courts.

Friends, last week (or was it month?) I wrote about getting "served" by math, and it must be Serve-a-Pol-ooza month. You see, this week, I am on my spring break. The last day before the break I had an extra jaunt in my step because I knew I had a week of rest coming up.* I skipped over to my mailbox, which is usually filled with several day old notes about emergencies I can no longer address, and it was empty! YES! This was going to be a great day. Then the secretary said, "Tengo algo para ti" (I have instructed her I am in a self-inflicted immersion program and not to talk to me in English). But that's not the point. I turned on my heels slowly and gingerly took the envelope as if it possibly had anthrax in it. When I get paperwork, it's never, "Great job with that meeting!" or "We don't need anything else from you!"

It was a subpoena.

For those of you just joining NFTSP, I am a school psychologist working in the public schools and in private practice. They are two totally different worlds and I love both of them for different reasons. One thing I have learned as a school psychologist in the public schools is that part of our job is actually to be a paralegal. Turns out the world of special education and therapy is highly litigious. I hate to crush all the eager li'l peeps who email me about how excited they are to be a school psych, but you're going to get the whole picture here. I spent the first few years of my job at "professional development meetings" thinly disguised as "How to Not Get Our District Sued." It's just what happens when you are in a large, urban district. We waste millions of dollars on defending ourself from not having enough money to serve the kids properly. I will tell you about the time my pen cost the district $100,000, but that's another day. I never hold the pen anymore at meetings for that reason. ANYHOO.

The subpoena says to turn over all psychological records for a student within 5 days. The thing is dated 9 days ago. It is a student I have never worked with before and have no records on. NEEEEEEEAAAAT. So I look for my principal. She is at a funeral of a former student who got killed in a drive-by. SUUUUPER. I scan my "professional development" bank of knowledge for what to do, and a little bubble pops up over my head with my old boss saying "Never call the lawyer, call the legal department." I don't know where that number is. I stupidly call the lawyer. I tell him that I don't think I'm the "custodian of records" but I will look into it. He says I should be the custodian of psychological records. I tell him I need a raise if that is the case. Then, I hang up and try to continue my day, totally distracted. I see my principal--she hasn't left yet. After we talk about the horror of the other situation, she tells me legal is already looking into the subpoenas, and "The District"** is actually the custodian of records and we may not have to go to court.

Sigh of relief.

Then I start thinking about my own records of students I see in counseling and how sometimes they are slopped together in the 2 seconds between students. I was trained to take diligent notes about each session for this reason. Though my notes are technically privileged information, I am thinking they are probably in some cases also part of the school record if I see the kid at school and I'm a district employee. Guess I should have been paying more attention in those sessions rather than thinking about silly things like trying to help the kids.

SPRING BREAK 2010 WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!




*Never you mind that I am writing this post at 7:30am on my first day of break. Stupid internal body clock.
**Probably close relative of "The Man."

You Got Served.

I used to have a math phobia that continued to produce math anxiety dreams well into my 20s. Phobia is a strong word. I’d say more of a strong indifference coupled with a side of “when am I EVER going to have to use this crap?” In elementary school, I dreaded the math lessons where you were supposed to patiently use the math manipulatives to solve problems, like finding square root with beads and stuff. Once I found a calculator, I pressed that square root button to get the answer and never looked back.

In high school, my dad tried to help me with higher math. Much to my father’s dismay, I didn’t get along well with math, even though I was pretty good at it. As an engineer, my dad loves numbers and math and problem solving and whatnot. He tried to convince me that the process of math was fun (as I was in tears, shredding up my homework in frustration.) I insisted that the answer, not the process, was the fun part. I may or may not have screamed, "I don't care HOW you get the answer, just give me the answers!" His little engineer heart probably broke into 6 equal pieces (1/6ths).

My math teacher in college tried to “sell” math to me by turning my complaints into a snazzy “equation” he liked to call “Confusion minus frustration equals inquiry!” He even made me write a stupid essay on it. I didn’t do so well, because I wrote how the equation was not pertinent to me because I had more frustration than confusion, thus I had negative inquiry. Ha! He got served by my English writing skills! In return, I got served my only C in college (nerd alert).*

Anyhoo, recently I have been writing curriculum for new special education teachers on how to teach the core academic areas to students with disabilities. I was en fuego on the sessions on reading, writing, and oral language. When I got to the part where I had to write three professional development sessions on math for students with special needs, I tried to quit the project. Then, they gave me a raise. I calculated how much of my credit card I could pay off with it and stuck it out. I got served by math, once again.

Around the same time, I started working with a high school student with a math disability (dyscalcula) whose hatred for math made me look like Euclid’s lover. We started with the basics. How can you hate the basic math facts? It took two weeks to convince this kid to even attempt simple problems. We rated her anxiety on a scale of 1-10 when the math was simply in the room with us, and it was always a 9 or 10. There was no way we were going to improve her math skills without working on the anxiety piece of the equation first (pun intended). I asked her to verbalize all her thoughts and beliefs about math as she did the problems (e.g. “when am I EVER going to have to use this crap?” “I should be able to do these easy ones” “I hate math” “I’m going to get all these wrong etc etc). As I looked at high school mini-me, I realized that both she and I needed to reframe our thoughts about math. And girlie needed some confidence in her basic skills.

After a few weeks, the girl could finally bear to practice basic skills with me. We had to use metaphor to get her to not think she was doing “dummy math.” She was a skateboarder, and I told her that in math and skateboarding, she had to practice her basic moves before moving on to other tricks. And like any activity, you have to feel confident in the basics first. You can't do a flip trick without learning the ollie first (skateboarders--right? I was on the spot). We talked about how her learning disability made the basic facts more difficult and she was going to have to practice more than other students. She started attempting math, but then her negative beliefs were getting in the way.

After finishing a page of mixed basic facts:

Girl: I probably got most of them all wrong.
Me: Would you be willing to see if that’s true?
Girl: I guess.
Me: (counting items correct) one..two..three…well it looks like you got 19 out of 25 which is about 2/3 correct. So is it true that you got most of them wrong?
Girl: No...Dang! I got served!
Me: Yes, AND by MATH nonetheless.
Girl: That totally sucks.
Me: I know. I’ve been there.

We ended up laughing about it, and she continues to work with me. As I try to “sell” math to her each week, I hope that on some level, I not only help her through high school, but prevent her from having math anxiety nightmares in her 20s. And when I finish writing these math sessions of my curriculum project, I promise to post how to help students with math disabilities. Until then, your suggestions and resources are most welcome!

*79.89%. He wouldn’t round up. I got served by math.

Kittens, Sheep, and Wolves. Oh My.

As many of you who follow me on Facey Face know, I have been that poor kitten holding onto the branch. I have been swamped with my spring Testival and IEPooloza, in which I test kids for learning disabilities and hold Individual Education Plans (IEPs) to chart their course. Well, well, well, look at me now!



Only I’m not really sleeping because I know that round 2 is about to begin. This is the round of testing that happens right around spring break….

Dun. Dun Dun.

ED Testing. ED stands for “Emotional Disturbance” and it is one of the categories of disability in special education law. It is basically reserved for a small group of students who are exhibiting such severe emotional and behavioral problems that they cannot be taught in a general education setting. That being said, it is a very popular assessment because there are many students who by springtime, have worn out their teachers with their shenanigans, or many of the attempted interventions have not been sufficient.

To illustrate: I used to work at a school I called Haides Middle School, in which many of the students had emotional and behavioral challenges. Students threatened teachers, weapons were on campus frequently, and it was not uncommon for windows, doors, and walls to be punched. At times, fecal matter was left as a "present" for the Principal, and my vocabulary of offensive things one could say to others exploded (in several languages.) Now one might call this whole school ED, but it was not supposed to be. In fact, there was a group of students who were learning, but I never got to see them. Weird.

Anyhoo, the types of behavior I saw at this school were systemic because of the school’s location and demographic, and sadly poor leadership by administration, but the only intervention in town was special education. So I got ED referral after ED referral. These are pretty intensive assessments, so I was never the kitten on top of the paper at this school. My task was to figure out if the problem lied with the student (if he or she was emotionally disturbed enough to be “disabled”) or if the problem was circumstantial. I mean, I might be depressed and anxious and not able to focus on my work if I saw my dad murder my mom. I also might be acting out if I had chronic PTSD from witnessing violence in my community. Would I be “disabled?”

This is the job of the school psychologist—to sort through all the data, observations, history, observer reports, and individual assessment with the student to determine if the child is eligible as a student with an Emotional Disturbance. Yes, our job is to see if a student is disturbed enough to be disabled. It sounds crazy when you type it out. To complicate, there are a series of rule-outs and conditions that quite frankly, get second prize to the dumbest special education criteria (1st prize? I’m looking at you “significant discrepancy”).

For example, you must show that the unusual behavior is not a straight up behavior disorder (e.g. Oppositional Defiant Disorder, Conduct Disorder), but it comes from an emotional disturbance (e.g. depression, anxiety, psychosis). So, in essence you have to show that the kid isn’t just choosing to climb up a flagpole and wield a knife on his own free will, but it comes from an emotional place. (Um, how do you assess that?)

For me, I have framed it in a different way. I think it’s almost impossible to prove where unusual behavior is coming from, so I just focus on assessing for depression, anxiety, or psychosis first and worry about the explanation of the behavior later. I also look at what is the main reason the kid isn’t learning. If the child has cognitive limitations, that might be a better explanation for why the kid is not being able to manage emotions. As I write this, it just gets more and more complex. Each case is so unique, and you have to look at all the angles at once. There are few straightforward ED assessments. In general, I find it best to think of a few different types of students referred for ED.

Now I have compared kids (and husbands) to animals before, so here you go. I just love me a good metaphor. I know it’s oversimplifying, but blog posts aren’t supposed to be 8 hojillion pages long, I’m told.

Types of Students Referred for “Emotional Disturbance” Assessments

1) Sheep. These students are a slam-dunk when it comes to assessment, because their emotional disturbance is fairly obvious. These are vulnerable students who have crippling anxiety that keeps them from coming to school, deep depression that keeps them from being able to complete work, or psychosis that interferes with daily functioning. These students often have suicidal or homicidal ideation and have histories of hospitalization. Despite years of counseling and intervention support, they continue to be highly vulnerable and cannot manage a typical school environment. You could also call them “internalizing” students, meaning the manifestation of the disturbance is inward.

2) Wolves. These students tend to be highly disruptive and kinda predatory. I know, I know, wolves are shy in the wild and only prey on others for food or if frightened, but let’s pretend for a moment that wolves are aggressive. And pretend that they argue with teachers, break the rules just to see what will happen, defy authority, and generally run with packs of other similar students.* These students are also suffering, in their own way, since they likely have a high need for control, have poor role models, and in general have difficulties with true relationships that aren’t manipulative. They are charmers and you can show them a video of themselves tagging the school wall and they will still stay it wasn’t them. You could call this group “externalizing” students, meaning the manifestation of their school problems is acting out. This group, in the absence of an underlying emotional problem (anxiety, depression, psychosis) is typically not eligible for special education services under “Emotional Disturbance.” But they still need help to break the coercive and aggressive pattern of interacting with others so they can succeed in school.

3) Sheep in Wolves Clothing I would say these students represent the majority of my ED referrals and are the most difficult to assess. These are students who pretend to be super tough and act out, but when you get them one-on-one for assessment, you find a deep emotional problem that is likely causing them to act the way they are. These students have both internalizing and externalizing problems. In these cases, you have to also look at eligibility from a response to intervention perspective. Are they acting out because they had a recent emotional trauma? Then, it would not be “abnormal” or “pervasive” to say a child is disabled because they are acting out. It’s circumstantial. If there were few signs of problems prior to the trauma, then it’s probably not ED. Are they acting out because they have never had counseling or behavioral interventions? Then you can’t show that they need special education to be successful because you haven’t tried anything yet in the general education setting (suspending a kid doesn’t count as an intervention). I also feel for the Sheep in Wolves Clothing because they too need intervention and they may or may not qualify for services with the way the law is written.

The length of the post shows the complexity of assessment for ED. Part of me feels like rather than trying to sort out if a kid is “disabled enough” to qualify for special education, I should spend that time doing actual interventions. Whether kids be Sheep, Wolves, or Sheep in Wolves clothing, they still need psychological help, and the families and teachers need support.

To close, the other day, I saw a student at my school rip up and throw away a referral he got in the teacher’s face, screaming “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” To her credit, I’m sure she wanted to throw it back and say “HAPPY NEW YEAR! You’re suspended!” but she was calm and professional and redirected him to my office. If you don’t see blog posts for a while, you know why. It’s that time of year.

*How to deal with these students? Here you go, a video demonstration