short stories:stories that teach: a heated meeting
a heated meeting
By Kelsey Gallant (2014)
It is a hot, sweltering Tuesday in April, and we are having Jonathan Mulberry’s annual IEP meeting. I, as Jonathan’s case manager, have presented Jonathan’s mother with an amazingly written (if I do say so myself) new revision of Jonathan’s IEP. He is a fourth grader this year, so this new revision will be his Individualized Education Program for the last couple months of this school year and the majority of fifth grade. I haven’t deviated too much from Jonathan’s old IEP—I’ve changed the writeup of his Present Levels, of course, and updated his goals because he has met all the old ones. The only other major change I’ve made has been in the Accommodations section of the IEP. His last IEP had a one-on-one aide listed as an accommodation. Jonathan’s classroom teacher and I have decided that Jonathan needs to be encouraged to work on his own as much as possible—after all, he will be going into middle school the year after next. We also believe that working in small groups with other students, as opposed to always working with his aide, would be beneficial in developing his social skills.
Our school has limited air conditioning, and the room is hot. But nothing is as hot right now as Mrs. Mulberry’s temper.
“Where’s the aide?” she practically shrieks, frantically flipping through the pages of Jonathan’s newly revised IEP. “I don’t see anything about an aide!”
“Here you go,” I say calmly, pointing to the accommodation I wrote in replacement of the old one. “It says, ‘Jonathan will be placed in a class with a classroom paraprofessional who is in the room for at least half the day.’ Jonathan’s current classroom has a class para, and we will make sure his fifth grade class does as well.”
“But what about his one-on-one aide?” Mrs. Mulberry says frantically. “He’s supposed to have a one-on-one aide. He needs a one-on-one aide. A classroom aide isn’t good enough. She has twenty-five other kids to deal with!”
I close my eyes. This is not going well. I think back to my college days, when I learned about a 4-step problem solving model. My professor told me to always consult the problem solving model when I got stuck. And stuck I am.
The first step was to identify the problem. Well, that’s done. The problem is that Jonathan’s mother thinks that Jonathan should still have a one-on-one para, while the rest of his educational team believes he no longer needs such individual support and should be working on his own. An IEP is law, so whatever ends up in the final copy must be implemented. However, an IEP is also supposed to be created with consent of the entire team, including the parents. We cannot finalize the IEP if Jonathan’s mother is set against it.
The second step of the problem solving method is to analyze the problem. I’ve observed Jonathan in his classroom a few times. He seems to function pretty well with behavior and on assignments, but I have noticed a strong reliance on the aide. He often has her read questions to him that he is fully capable of reading himself, and when it is time to start an assignment, he will sit and do nothing until she prompts him to start. If we proceed with taking the aide away, he may be lost at first, but I truly believe that with continued supports from his teacher and the classroom para, he will eventually learn to be independent. However, Mom seems fully convinced that the aide is completely necessary…
The third step in the process is intervention development and implementation. I need to develop a plan of action, and I need to do it quickly, before Mrs. Mulberry goes ballistic and starts flipping over tables and throwing chairs like that other kid’s mother did when we accidentally called her “Miss” instead of “Ms.”
“Mrs. Mulberry,” I say politely, and she kind of glares at me, as if daring me to say something to contradict her. “We believe that Jonathan is capable of functioning in the classroom without a one-on-one aide. In fact, in recent months, it seems that the aide has been acting as more of a crutch for him, because he is relying on her to help him with things that he is able to do himself. Here is what I propose. We do not continue providing him with a one-on one aide, but we do have the classroom aide check in on him several times throughout the day and make sure that he is keeping up. She can still help him if he needs it, but this will encourage him to be more independent with his schoolwork. If you’d like, we can add an accommodation of an assignment planner which has to be checked each morning and afternoon to make sure Jonathan is keeping track of what he needs to do. We can also require that somebody, maybe the classroom aide or maybe the teacher, helps him with the organization aspect since he seems to struggle with that. We just feel that, since he will not always have an individual aide to help him in life, he needs to start learning to work more independently. We also think that removing the aide will help him with the social aspect—and I know his social development was one of your concerns—because in group activities he will be working with other students instead of with his aide.”
Mrs. Mulberry does not look convinced, but she seems to have calmed down a little. “I just think that if you don’t put the one-on-one in the IEP, everyone will forget about him needing services and he won’t get what he needs,” she says. “Can’t you just make it that his aide makes him try to do the work by himself at first, and helps him only if he doesn’t get it? And as for groups and things, he can still work with other kids, and the aide can just follow him into the group to help him if he gets stuck.”
“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “We aren’t going to forget about Jonathan’s needs, and we’ll be paying close attention to how he’s doing at all times. We aren’t going to let him slip through the cracks. My issue with having the para follow him to the group is that he’ll still end up relying more on her than on the rest of the group. He would be able to get more involved with the other kids in the group if the para wasn’t sitting next to him the whole time, because he’d be forced to work together with them and develop his social skills. Also, the other kids might see him as more of ‘one of them’ without the aide, because having an adult working with him all the time could make him stand out.”
I think of one more thing to tell her. “In special education, all children are supposed to be in their Least Restrictive Environment. This means that they should be in the general classroom, provided with the general curriculum, as much as possible, and should have as many opportunities as possible to interact with their non-disabled peers. If the para is constantly helping him when he doesn’t need it, this is actually restricting Jonathan’s academic and social growth because he is not learning the self-discipline of working alone, and he is not being provided with as many opportunities as possible to interact with his non-disabled peers.”
“Hmmm,” she says. “Well, I still just don’t feel comfortable with the whole-class para idea. I feel like even if he can manage some assignments alone, he really does need that one-on-one support in math. He’s been complaining to me that he just doesn’t get math concepts, and no matter how many times I try to show him at home, whatever we practice one day, he’s completely forgotten by the next. And you know how Everyday Math is—they don’t seem to teach to mastery, and they always mix in old concepts with all the new. That’s confusing to Jonathan. I feel like he needs somebody there to remind him how to set up the problems and to walk him through the steps. I don’t think it would be fair to him or to the other students if a whole-class para had to help him with that, because she would either have to stay with him the whole time and not help the other students, or go around helping everybody and not give him the support he needs. And even if she did sit with him during math time, that would still leave just the one classroom teacher to walk around helping 25 other kids, and I used to be in education—I know what that’s like!”
I am beginning to finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, a compromise. “Okay,” I say. “How about this. We keep the accommodation about Jonathan having to be in a classroom with a whole-class para, and we add the one about having somebody check his planner and help him organize. But then we add another accommodation that says he has to have a one-on-one para for math. He doesn’t need a one-on-one for the rest of the day, because the classroom teacher and whole-class aide will be enough. But for math, since that’s where he really struggles, we can give him the one-on-one aide.”
I look around the table and see that Jonathan’s classroom teacher, the school psychologist, and the vice principal are all nodding in agreement. Mrs. Mulberry cocks her head to the side, thinking about it. “What if that doesn’t work?”
Ah, Step Four of the problem solving process. Intervention Evaluation. “We—Jonathan’s classroom teacher, the classroom para, his one-on-one math aide, and I—will monitor Jonathan’s progress over the course of the next few weeks. It will take a little while for Jonathan to adjust to not having the one-on-one aide for most of his day, so we will take that into account. We will encourage him to try working by himself, and give him plenty of positive reinforcement that he can do it. We’ll see how he does, if he starts stepping up to the plate and working independently, and how his academics are doing, and we’ll go from there. If it seems to be working, we will continue with what we’re doing, and if it seems not to be working, we’ll schedule another meeting and discuss alternate ways to proceed.”
Mrs. Mulberry finally agrees—“As long as we can still schedule another meeting and change stuff if it doesn’t work.” I doubt she has a lot of confidence in our plan, but that’s okay, because I do. I think providing Jonathan with a one-on-one para in math, his weakest subject, and letting him be more independent with everything else, is the right choice. And if it’s not, we’ll get together again and try to figure something else out. I’m sure I’d be able to do it. The four-step problem solving model never fails me.
I walk with Mrs. Mulberry to the main office so she can sign out, and then go back to my own office. We will implement the new intervention soon, once the new revision of the IEP is finalized, and we’ll evaluate it as we go along. But for now, the most immediate thing I need to do is go into Easy IEP and add those new accommodations.
And then get started on those 13 other IEPs I need to write.
Our school has limited air conditioning, and the room is hot. But nothing is as hot right now as Mrs. Mulberry’s temper.
“Where’s the aide?” she practically shrieks, frantically flipping through the pages of Jonathan’s newly revised IEP. “I don’t see anything about an aide!”
“Here you go,” I say calmly, pointing to the accommodation I wrote in replacement of the old one. “It says, ‘Jonathan will be placed in a class with a classroom paraprofessional who is in the room for at least half the day.’ Jonathan’s current classroom has a class para, and we will make sure his fifth grade class does as well.”
“But what about his one-on-one aide?” Mrs. Mulberry says frantically. “He’s supposed to have a one-on-one aide. He needs a one-on-one aide. A classroom aide isn’t good enough. She has twenty-five other kids to deal with!”
I close my eyes. This is not going well. I think back to my college days, when I learned about a 4-step problem solving model. My professor told me to always consult the problem solving model when I got stuck. And stuck I am.
The first step was to identify the problem. Well, that’s done. The problem is that Jonathan’s mother thinks that Jonathan should still have a one-on-one para, while the rest of his educational team believes he no longer needs such individual support and should be working on his own. An IEP is law, so whatever ends up in the final copy must be implemented. However, an IEP is also supposed to be created with consent of the entire team, including the parents. We cannot finalize the IEP if Jonathan’s mother is set against it.
The second step of the problem solving method is to analyze the problem. I’ve observed Jonathan in his classroom a few times. He seems to function pretty well with behavior and on assignments, but I have noticed a strong reliance on the aide. He often has her read questions to him that he is fully capable of reading himself, and when it is time to start an assignment, he will sit and do nothing until she prompts him to start. If we proceed with taking the aide away, he may be lost at first, but I truly believe that with continued supports from his teacher and the classroom para, he will eventually learn to be independent. However, Mom seems fully convinced that the aide is completely necessary…
The third step in the process is intervention development and implementation. I need to develop a plan of action, and I need to do it quickly, before Mrs. Mulberry goes ballistic and starts flipping over tables and throwing chairs like that other kid’s mother did when we accidentally called her “Miss” instead of “Ms.”
“Mrs. Mulberry,” I say politely, and she kind of glares at me, as if daring me to say something to contradict her. “We believe that Jonathan is capable of functioning in the classroom without a one-on-one aide. In fact, in recent months, it seems that the aide has been acting as more of a crutch for him, because he is relying on her to help him with things that he is able to do himself. Here is what I propose. We do not continue providing him with a one-on one aide, but we do have the classroom aide check in on him several times throughout the day and make sure that he is keeping up. She can still help him if he needs it, but this will encourage him to be more independent with his schoolwork. If you’d like, we can add an accommodation of an assignment planner which has to be checked each morning and afternoon to make sure Jonathan is keeping track of what he needs to do. We can also require that somebody, maybe the classroom aide or maybe the teacher, helps him with the organization aspect since he seems to struggle with that. We just feel that, since he will not always have an individual aide to help him in life, he needs to start learning to work more independently. We also think that removing the aide will help him with the social aspect—and I know his social development was one of your concerns—because in group activities he will be working with other students instead of with his aide.”
Mrs. Mulberry does not look convinced, but she seems to have calmed down a little. “I just think that if you don’t put the one-on-one in the IEP, everyone will forget about him needing services and he won’t get what he needs,” she says. “Can’t you just make it that his aide makes him try to do the work by himself at first, and helps him only if he doesn’t get it? And as for groups and things, he can still work with other kids, and the aide can just follow him into the group to help him if he gets stuck.”
“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “We aren’t going to forget about Jonathan’s needs, and we’ll be paying close attention to how he’s doing at all times. We aren’t going to let him slip through the cracks. My issue with having the para follow him to the group is that he’ll still end up relying more on her than on the rest of the group. He would be able to get more involved with the other kids in the group if the para wasn’t sitting next to him the whole time, because he’d be forced to work together with them and develop his social skills. Also, the other kids might see him as more of ‘one of them’ without the aide, because having an adult working with him all the time could make him stand out.”
I think of one more thing to tell her. “In special education, all children are supposed to be in their Least Restrictive Environment. This means that they should be in the general classroom, provided with the general curriculum, as much as possible, and should have as many opportunities as possible to interact with their non-disabled peers. If the para is constantly helping him when he doesn’t need it, this is actually restricting Jonathan’s academic and social growth because he is not learning the self-discipline of working alone, and he is not being provided with as many opportunities as possible to interact with his non-disabled peers.”
“Hmmm,” she says. “Well, I still just don’t feel comfortable with the whole-class para idea. I feel like even if he can manage some assignments alone, he really does need that one-on-one support in math. He’s been complaining to me that he just doesn’t get math concepts, and no matter how many times I try to show him at home, whatever we practice one day, he’s completely forgotten by the next. And you know how Everyday Math is—they don’t seem to teach to mastery, and they always mix in old concepts with all the new. That’s confusing to Jonathan. I feel like he needs somebody there to remind him how to set up the problems and to walk him through the steps. I don’t think it would be fair to him or to the other students if a whole-class para had to help him with that, because she would either have to stay with him the whole time and not help the other students, or go around helping everybody and not give him the support he needs. And even if she did sit with him during math time, that would still leave just the one classroom teacher to walk around helping 25 other kids, and I used to be in education—I know what that’s like!”
I am beginning to finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, a compromise. “Okay,” I say. “How about this. We keep the accommodation about Jonathan having to be in a classroom with a whole-class para, and we add the one about having somebody check his planner and help him organize. But then we add another accommodation that says he has to have a one-on-one para for math. He doesn’t need a one-on-one for the rest of the day, because the classroom teacher and whole-class aide will be enough. But for math, since that’s where he really struggles, we can give him the one-on-one aide.”
I look around the table and see that Jonathan’s classroom teacher, the school psychologist, and the vice principal are all nodding in agreement. Mrs. Mulberry cocks her head to the side, thinking about it. “What if that doesn’t work?”
Ah, Step Four of the problem solving process. Intervention Evaluation. “We—Jonathan’s classroom teacher, the classroom para, his one-on-one math aide, and I—will monitor Jonathan’s progress over the course of the next few weeks. It will take a little while for Jonathan to adjust to not having the one-on-one aide for most of his day, so we will take that into account. We will encourage him to try working by himself, and give him plenty of positive reinforcement that he can do it. We’ll see how he does, if he starts stepping up to the plate and working independently, and how his academics are doing, and we’ll go from there. If it seems to be working, we will continue with what we’re doing, and if it seems not to be working, we’ll schedule another meeting and discuss alternate ways to proceed.”
Mrs. Mulberry finally agrees—“As long as we can still schedule another meeting and change stuff if it doesn’t work.” I doubt she has a lot of confidence in our plan, but that’s okay, because I do. I think providing Jonathan with a one-on-one para in math, his weakest subject, and letting him be more independent with everything else, is the right choice. And if it’s not, we’ll get together again and try to figure something else out. I’m sure I’d be able to do it. The four-step problem solving model never fails me.
I walk with Mrs. Mulberry to the main office so she can sign out, and then go back to my own office. We will implement the new intervention soon, once the new revision of the IEP is finalized, and we’ll evaluate it as we go along. But for now, the most immediate thing I need to do is go into Easy IEP and add those new accommodations.
And then get started on those 13 other IEPs I need to write.
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The Story Behind The Story:
This story was part of my midterm for one of my graduate courses. I was given the scenario of Jonathan's mother wanting him to continue having a one-on-one aide, and me as the case manager believing that it would be better for him to just be in a class with a classroom aide. My task was to explain how I would handle the situation, using the four-step problem solving model my teacher gave us. |
"If kids come to us from strong, healthy functioning families, it makes our job easier. If they do not come to us from strong, healthy, functioning families, it makes our job more important."
- Robert Heinlein
