Last year the EMH teacher informed me, “You are getting two of my students next year.”
“Two EMH students? Are you sure?”
“Oh yeah, you will be good for them.”
That kind of statement always make me worried. I hate it when people assume that I can magically correct problems in students.
“They won’t be a problem.”
“What are their names and how are they at reading?”
“Tonya and Charles. Tonya can read lower level books but she has trouble with comprehension and Charles can recognize his name.”
“Sounds like Charles is pretty low, huh?”
“Yeah. You will have them in the morning, specials, and lunch. The rest of the time they will be with me.”
“Okay, I will do my best.” I tried not to sound skeptical.
“I think that I want to try them in AR time in your room too this year,” said the EMH teacher.
“I thought you said Charles recognizes his name, how is he going to read independently during AR time.”
“I said I was thinking about it.”
“Okay, let me know what you decide.”
To be honest with you, that conversation scared me. What was I going to do with these kids that where nowhere on level with the rest of my class. Sure they wouldn’t be in my room very long, but I still wanted their time in my room to be more than some kind of time for them to socialize with their peers.
So last summer I set out to talk to Charles’s former teachers. I wanted to learn as much as I could about him and what I could do with him in my class. The stories that I heard made me even more fearful. I heard stories of fits that Charles had thrown, violent ones. I just knew that this Charles kid was going to monopolize my time and not in a good way. I was dreading him in class. Despite my fears the EMH teacher tried to reassure me, he wasn’t that bad anymore. Those stories came from his kindergarten and first grade classes. They really didn’t have any of those outbursts since he has been in second grade… well at least not recently.
Open house last year was the first time I had met Charles. He came in with him Mom, shy at first. When he got more comfortable, he began to explore the room. Eventually I got him to put his name in some books. It looked like the handwriting of a kindergartener. Then he finally opened his mouth to speak to his mother. There was just one problem, I didn’t understand what in the world he said. His oral skills sounded even younger than a kindergartener. He rarely used complete sentences and when they were they were very simple and unsophisticated. One good thing. He didn’t throw a fit.
In those first weeks of school, I learned several things about Charles. He is very dependent on routine and schedule. Any break in that routine caused Charles to become very panicky. I think that many of the problems that they had with Charles in Kindergarten and first grade stemmed back to a break in his routine. I learned that if there was a change in routine, I could sit down and talk to him about the change and that would reduce his panic.I learned more and more about his speech patterns and became quite adept at understanding him. I learned about his likes, which were quite obvious since he would obsess about them. I learned that Charles spent most of his time in his imaginary world in his head. There he replays events from earlier in the week or battle the Decepticons to the death (more of the latter). I learned that Charles could slip in and out of his world at a moments notice. During a conversation with him, it wouldn’t be unusual for him to just start reciting a Transformers or Ed and Eddie episode and then just as quickly he would change back to the conversation at hand. I learned that he didn’t like physical contact and I learned about his unusual eating habits (only popcorn, POP tarts, or pringles for lunch and every Friday night he would eat Springfield Cashew Chicken with his family). Most importantly however, I learned to love Charles. Not really learned at all but it happened that first day of school. It seemed I had a real connection with him that very few other people did.
I have trouble even describing how much he has grown this year. He is reading very simple, repetitive books, decoding words and is the spelling champ of the EMH room. He no longer frets over schedule changes as long as he knows what is going on. He has learned to like Pringles and pizza without any toppings this year. His fear of physical contact with people seems to have diminished. Whenever Charles would be talking to me he would have his hand around my arm and if I had short sleeves on he would rub his hands up and down my arm. Every morning, Charles got in the habit of coming in the classroom and coming over to my desk to sit on my lap so he could ask what I was going to do after school and on Fridays he would excitedly announce that he was going to eat Cashew Chicken.
Over the course of the year Charles has proved to be a fountain of stories. You can read some here, here, here, here, and here. There are a million more where that came from.
For about a month now his EMH teacher and I have been trying to prepare Charles for the move to the fourth grade. This past Thursday was the last day of school and for the third and fourth grades, it was a day at the park. Charles decided that he was going to sit by me.
“Do you know this will be that last day that I will be your teacher?” I asked him.
He kind of nodded though I don’t think he understands the permanence of the statement.
“So are you going to come see me next year?”
“Sure,” Charles confidently replied. Then he paused. “But I no know where you live.”
“No at school. Are you going to come see me at school and visit me?”
“Sure,” He paused again. “In the treasure?”
“Not treasure, the trailer. Will you come and visit me in the trailer?”
“Yeah in the - trailer.”
“Good, I will be looking for you.” He ran around for a little while in his usual fashion, arms flailing about. Then he came back and sat down.
“So tell me everything about Godzilla (his most recent obsession. He frequently calls himself Charleszilla.)”
“Ooooo! I love that monster! First he was bad. And, and, and then (dramatic pause for effect) he became a HERO! Nununce! And he fought the evil monsters.”
That conversation continued for the next three minutes until he retreated into Charleszilla world in his head.
As we walked back to the school we got near to the EMH classroom where I would drop Charles off for the last time. That’s when it hit me. This huge lump in my throat that sprang out of nowhere as I myself began to realize the finality of the moment. Thankfully I still had my mirrored sunglasses on so no one could the moisture in my eyes. I managed to choke out “Charles and Tonya, here we are.”
They both happily ran into the room then Charles stopped turned around and ran back to me to give a big hug. “Bye Charles. Have a good summer.”
Now that I was a complete mess, I made a bee line for my room with my class nodding as people in the hall asked about how the park was. In the classroom, I pretended to mess around with the grade cards while I regained composure. I’m sure the kids thought I was odd for keeping my sunglasses on.
So my chapter in Charles’s story comes to a close. There have been many times where I have wondered about the future of his story. It will be different that most people’s stories, and that’s alright, there are very few things about his story that most people would consider normal.
I am so thankful for having been a part of his story for a very short 174 days. He has blessed in so many ways, I couldn’t even begin counting them. I hope that you have an opportunity to get to know a Charles. You will be a better person for knowing them.
Class dismissed!
