[blparent] FW: [angelsonges] Puppy Therapy, chicken soup for the soul stories

[Eric Calhoun]

This is disability-related, not blindness-related, so as blind parents,
what can you learn from this?


Original Message: 
From: "Arlene" <arlenes71154 at earthlink.net>
To: <angelsonges at groups.io>
Subject: [angelsonges] Puppy Therapy, chicken soup for the soul stories
Date: 
Sun, 26 May 2019 04:41:38 -0500

37. Puppy Therapy
From
Chicken Soup for the Soul: Inspiration for Teachers
By Jeanne Kraus
book/198706/inspiration-for-teachers
Puppy Therapy
There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face.
Bernard Williams
I loved teaching fourth grade and I loved acting like a kid with the
students. I used
humor to reach them. Our class mascot was a rubber chicken in pajamas
that went everywhere
with us. Our days ended out on the playground doing the chicken dance
together. Learning
was accomplished through participation and teamwork, emphasizing
much-needed social
skills along the way. The kids loved our unique classroom style, and it
worked -
they were motivated and enthusiastic.
Then, one year, I was assigned a particularly unreachable student. Jeremy
had been
born with fetal alcohol syndrome, which probably accounted for his severe
learning
disabilities. He was impulsive and had no attention span. He also had few
social
skills and always seemed ready for a fight.
Jeremy didn't smile and he clearly didn't want to be in the classroom.
Getting him
to lighten up became my goal that year. Oh, sure, I wanted him to read,
write and
know his math facts. But more than that, I wanted him to experience
happiness and
excitement about learning.
I modified all his fourth grade work to make it easier for him. I let him
take many
of the tests orally. He needed encouragement or he would stop trying. I
needed to
boost his self-confidence.
I tried so many of my usual methods but I wasn't reaching him.
So I set up a conference with his mother. When I told Jeremy, he just
shrugged. Then,
without making eye contact, he said, "My mom won't come. She never comes
to conferences."
"Yes, she will," I said, more confidently than I felt.
"No, she won't," said Jeremy. "Wait and see."
Now this woman had
 to come, if only to show Jeremy that people could change. I added a
little note
to my conference request. "If you are unable to come, I will be glad to
drive over
to your house to meet with you there. Just let me know what day and time
is good
for you."
Lo and behold, I got my conference! In the first five minutes, I
understood a lot
about Jeremy. His mother turned her back on him while we were talking.
She never
once looked at him. She did not speak any words of encouragement. She
expected the
worst.
At other conferences, teachers had told her everything that was wrong
with Jeremy.
Instead, I told her about the effort he was making and that he was
trying. His mother
had never had a good conference before. She did not believe in her son.
I realized that Jeremy was on his own as far as his education. He had no
homework
help. No one checked his planner. So Jeremy's homework became morning
work. Each
morning, he rode his bike to school early and worked in my class before
school.
Yes, he still got in trouble in the cafeteria and in the halls. But while
he was
in my class, he knew the rules and followed them.
I continued to work with Jeremy on his academics. He had a long road
ahead of him
and always would. But I had more pressing matters: I still needed to make
him smile.
How I tried! I walked beside him in line and told him funny stories,
acted pretty
silly for a teacher, and even put him in charge of R.C., our rubber
chicken. No smile.
A permanent scowl wrinkled his brow.
My husband heard about Jeremy every night. We discussed how to get him to
lighten
up. He needed so much more than I could provide. And I only had until
June.
After the winter holiday break, my husband brought our brand-new
miniature Dachshund
puppy, Maggie, to school to show my students. I talked about her all the
time, and
the kids were looking forward to
meeting her. At the end of the day, George, my husband, was waiting
outside our classroom
door with Maggie in his arms. The kids could pet her, but not hold her,
just in case
she wiggled her way out of their arms.
George and Maggie were immediately engulfed in a sea of fourth grade
students all
wanting to pet her. Maggie was a kisser, so each child was repaid with
very wet doggy
love. Jeremy stood near the back of the group watching. I took a chance.
I offered to let him hold my beloved puppy. He agreed. I had him sit down,
and we
placed Maggie in his lap. Of course, within three seconds, she was all
over his face
and licking it from forehead to chin with her own brand of puppy love.
Jeremy exploded with giggles. The whole class stood and watched, knowing
that something
out of the ordinary had just happened. Jeremy lay back on the ground and
allowed
her to lick him all over his face until we took pity on him and pulled
her off. No
one else asked to hold her; everyone knew it was Jeremy's time. My
husband and I
were both in tears watching Jeremy get his puppy-love therapy.
Jeremy would be about thirty years old now. I hope he remembers that day
as vividly
as I do. I don't recall his reading score or his math progress from that
year, but
I remember the sound of his laughter. I still see the crooked little grin
that appeared
more frequently with each passing day after Maggie the puppy's visit.
I don't know if I affected Jeremy, but he most definitely affected me.
The memories
I have of Jeremy embody what teaching is truly about. Teaching is not
about test
scores and mastery of tons of information. Teaching is all about heart.
Jeanne Kraus
http://www.chickensoup.com/newsletter/222414/puppy-therapy


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