Student Life

I have students. Some in Special Ed. Some in the math and English classes. I have students.

I have observations.

Like the special ed student who looks like a Weeble. Does he wobble? Yes. And he also wears nylon gym shorts pulled up to his armpits. Every now and then he gets in a mood. Of the affectionate sort. He gets a look on his face, something like the guy in the sports jacket with his shirt unbuttoned enough to show his chest hair and wears big gold chains. Okay, not really. But when he wants some lovin' he all but knocks you over. In the name of "hugging" me the other day, he totally copped a feel. For all to see. Needless to say, since then I try to stay on opposite sides of the classroom from him.

One of my favorite special ed students, a beautiful, petite black girl with a gorgeous smile, has problems with hygiene and often smells like B.O. Now in my second year of working with her, it appears that she is binding her chest. She wears layers upon layers of shirts and things are bunched up and just not right. I can only imagine why.

Along with the observations, I am surprised at what the students share with me.

One of my regular-ed students casually told me that her mom suffers from multiple personality disorder.

Another student's dad has Asperger syndrome.

These kids have so much to deal with, as if surviving high school isn't tough enough.

On the other hand, the girl that I hated after the first day of school is no longer in my class. I am part thrilled, but part not. Some obsessive side of me thought I could help her. Now I feel like I've given up.

But still part thrilled.