Second Week Adventures

This morning, I was going about my usual business teaching first year Spanish. It was second period - one of my larger and more unusual periods. There are 31 students, two have Individualized Education Plans (IEPs - it means they have a disability and need accomodations). Today was the first day one of the special ed teachers came in to be an aide for those kids. This teacher is super cool, but I don't know him really well. The students finished their entry tasks, and we had just started new vocabulary for the day. Señala la profesora. Señala las flores. Señala el dinosauro. The students are mostly doing what their supposed to be doing (pointing). One girl was not. She usually doesn't. I turn to write señala on the board. One of the kids with an IEP came in late, and the aide stood up to give him a paper.

And we both see the girl falling from her chair to the ground, seizing.

He yells, runs and moves chairs out of her way, I run to call the nurse.

I've always kind of wondered how I'd react in a crisis. In my daydreams, of course, I'm a hero. Calm, quick, intelligent, superhumanly strong and filled with remarkable insight. In real life, I was quick, but not calm. Definitely shaking. I called the nurse, but didn't think to send the other kids out to the hallway. Didn't check to see how coherent she was. That was a real personal letdown. I'm trying to have a little compassion on myself. The other teacher, as a coach, has to take first aid classes every year. I took my last one... six? seven years ago? And then it was one of those, "I know we're supposed to be here for 8 hours, but I'm going to summarize so y'all can leave in 2 hours" deals. At the time, I was glad to leave. Now I want my money back.

But the other students were sent into the hallway, the nurses came to save the day, the student is as ok as a girl can be after having her first seizure the second week of freshman year. Poor girl.

Of the 30 remaining students, only one girl asked if her classmate was going to be ok. I sent her parents a nice note telling them how I appreciated her compassion and empathy.

And now it's definitely time to go home. Thank you, Jesus, for sending that aide today.