Let's rewind a bit to give you some background. Last year I was informed that I would have a blind student (we'll call him "Jon") in my class this year. My initial stress was just to get all my books, worksheets, PowerPoints, and miscellaneous assignments sent in to be brailled. Never did I truly stop to think about the other possible hindrances that would confront me along the way. I have him twice a day and truly got to know him quickly once the school year began. I have made some rather embarrassing mistakes that I never thought to prepare myself for, such as....
During one of our first fire drills in school, I left "Jon" in the classroom. It never even crossed my mind. Lucky for me, a student was a lot more thoughtful than I. :) Close call on that one. I also often would refer to papers/worksheets by their color, which of course he couldn't see. My entire approach to teaching had to be molded into something slightly different because of my non-verbals, my "sight sensitive" speech, and my activities. He quickly warmed up to me and had quite the sense of humor about it.
Once, he came back to my desk to ask me a question. My other students were talking loudly, so I told them to quiet down because "Jon" was going to think I was yelling at him and run away from me. Well, "Jon" thought it would be funny to pretend like he was scared and actually run away. I mean, literally run away. Did I mention he's blind? So there he went, running away from my desk at a pretty decent speed. He got about 3 desks in before he hit one of his own bags and went tripping forward. He almost regained his composure until he ran into my stool in the front of my room, then continued into the wall, bounced off of the wall, and then landed on the floor. Fun fact: I have a TV with a VCR/DVD player underneath it right where he ran into my wall. He was literally inches from scrapping his head. When I approached him laying of the floor of my classroom, I found him crying because of how hard he was laughing. I cannot even express the relief I felt in that moment. This gave me an idea to let him run. I had my class line the hallway on both sides and put their hands straight out toward the center. "Jon" ran back and forth 'cane-free' by using their hands to guide him. It was incredible to see that bonding take place between my students in the class.
This past fall, I got a cold. It was, of course, during a time that I just couldn't take off work and call in sick. So instead, I fought losing my voice. That Monday morning after the cold really set in, I walked groggily into my classroom to greet students. I began instructing them when "Jon" raised his hand. I called on him casually, only for him to ask, "Where is Miss Mahr today? I didn't know she was having a substitute." I laughed and corrected him. He continued, "Are you serious? I thought you were a MAN!"
"Jon" also has a personal Braille machine that he is able to create worksheets, letters, etc. on. I thought it would be a good mixer for my homeroom class to all learn how to Braille. Like all good teachers do, I decided to precede my students and be a model for them. We had little post cards with the different Braille letters and combinations on them for the students to use as reference. As I sat down with "Jon" to learn, I got a little too comfortable and hurried through writing my name. When he read it back to me, it said "Miff Mahr" instead of "Miss Mahr." And of course, when mistakes like that are made in a middle school classroom, it stuck. I have been, and probably always will be to this class, "Miff Mahr." I wish that was the end to that story, but alas it is not. The embarrassment continues. Each student continued to Braille their name to be hung on the wall and show our bonding for the rest of the year. Watching "Jon" teach the students and be able to bring them into his world was incredible. Somehow, this was brought up at the board meeting and the local newspaper caught wind of the students learning to Braille from their blind classmate. Great story, right? The newspaper came to my room and saw the students' names up on my wall, along with the Braille word of the day that students can read, decipher, and then define for candy. The reporter's eyes didn't stop there, though. She saw--in quite large letters--the sign that read "Miff Mahr's Classroom." Of course, this peaked her interest and "Jon" was more than happy to explain his English teacher's ignorance and haste. The picture and article was front and center of the newspaper the next day. The article was an incredible depiction of "Jon" and what he is capable...even with his English teacher who can't seem to spell her own name.
This brings me to the present. Although we have had several moments of confusion, "Jon" has progressed and opened doors to opportunities 7th grade students would never even dream of. He has been involved with APH (American Printing House--for the blind) and working to bring tutorials on how to use their up and coming technology for the blind. He has made videos for his Braille Plus, playing the wii, and using everyday computer tasks. He went down this fall for a conference at APH in Louisville, Kentucky. Presenting at this conference was quite the ordeal and honor. Little did he know, more opportunities would soon flood his doors. We were just informed that he has been asked to go to Washington D.C. this summer and present at a banquet for the House of Representatives and their staff. What an amazing possibility for a 13 year old! I had him announce that to my homeroom class. Sadly, a few of them made similar mistakes I had earlier in the year. Their responses were classic:
president."
Another, "Tell me what the White House looks like when you come back."
We never learn. Luckily, he got quite the kick out of it. "Jon" came in early to school on Friday to talk to me about his speech. He was told that all good presenters start out with a joke or funny stories to capture their audience's attention. Of course, I endorsed this and was thrilled that he was coming for help on his speech. He quickly assured me he already knew how he would begin--by telling the exact stories I just told all of you. Never did I imagine some of my most embarrassing moments as a teacher would be presented in front of the House of Representatives. Yikes.
These are important stories to remember on the days where purpose is lacking, motivation is no where to be found, and patience is nonexistent in my room. I apologize for the lack of these redemptive, yet embarrassing, teaching stories that enable us to see the joy that can be tucked behind frustration. Sometimes all it takes is bringing it to light.
