Why PBIS isn't BS...
It wasn’t until 3 years ago I discovered PBIS. Before then, our campus was a big proponent of Capturing Kid’s Hearts. I was always felt pretty stellar about building relationships with kids, but it was good to see there was finally a district push to get people on the happy train. I say this positively, but in all honesty, the during the days of the PBS training, I was less than jovial. I was a little over 2 months pregnant and green in the face. My big gulp of 7-UP and the giant stash of Preggo Pops and Saltines indicated I was not down with this and just needed to go home already. The fact that my other half/teaching partner/guardian angel/savior/bff already got me in the know with CHAMPs and this gig years before didn’t add to the excitement, because I felt I could teach the workshop.
Fast forward 3 years, and due to budget cuts, I have lost the instructional strategist who has keep me sane and feeling smart for the last nearly 5 years, and my teaching partner left me for to “take care of her family”, what. ev. Being a praying gal, I prayed incessantly for God to take care of me and to help me everyday, as I had lost my rocks. I wasn’t too confident I knew much, but He was going to show me just how much I DO know, and make me look real good at it. Well, that, and slapping me with a holy 2X4 to prep me for the hell I am jumping into this school year, but that is a different story in itself. There were several instances this last school year that really concreted for me just what PBIS means. It wasn’t really until they all slammed in my face the last 2 or so months of school.
In March, I take the walk of shame to snatch up my STAAR testing materials and my fearless leader, I mean, principal, tells me I am going to have a new darling in my testing group. She tells me, "We don’t know much about him, but this is the first time he has been in a public school in a while. He has been tossed around in foster care and has been in a residential facility for the last year or so. He needs some love, and I wanted him to be in your group.” When I meet Brandon, all 6’3” of him, he is being escorted to my room by our Focus director and our SRO. I am being told that he is going to be in our SLC, and that someone will be outside the door in case I need something. “Oooooook”, I say and pray that the day goes well. It’s true. That baby just needed some love. No one had smiled at him or showed him that they cared in his whole life. The second day of testing, he was with me and we got to talk for a while before the other kids came down. He told me that it freaked him out a little bit that all the teachers had been so nice to him. After those 2 days, I was told he was going to be in my class because we had done so well together. I never had a single problem with Brandon while I had him. PBIS did magic things for him. Being almost 16 and in the 7th grade did not give him much hopes in societies eyes by any means. By the end of the year, he was calling me Mom, and sometimes came to me instead of wanting help from Focus. He begged me to be his teacher next year, like they all do, and I saw in him a changed child. Coming from such horrid abuse, being tossed around like no one cared about him, and being written off by most of the world, Brandon wasn’t supposed to be successful. But he was.
In April, Justin, a former student of mine 3 years prior, passed away the day after a horrid battle with Leukemia. Upon attending his funeral, I saw the “who’s who” of previous students. Ones I adored with all of my heart, and ones I felt like strangling a time or two. It was hard to get into the foyer of the funeral home, as I kept getting wrapped up over and over again in the arms of crying students. Boys and girls alike. They all went on and on about how much it meant for them that I was there, and then they started begging for me to come teach at the High School. I was told by some how I was “still their favorite” and you know that when they say things like that 3 and 4 years after leaving your room, they mean it. At least… you hope. As I make it to the entrance of the service, I stop to sign the guest book. As I do, 2 large arms wrap me up and begin lifting me off the floor. I spin around to find the tear stained face of Nito, a 6 something 300 pound teddy bear I had taught the same year as I had Justin. “Mizz Dub! He said, “I can’t believe you are here! It means to much to us, and I know it would mean a lot to Justin if he only knew you were here. We miss you.” It really concreted to me that building relationships with kids makes a difference.
May rolls around, and Amber is in the office with the SRO, principal, nurse, CIS counselor and there are tears happening. Amber has tried without success to kill herself that morning by jumping out of the moving school bus window. She tells me this the next day along with her journey to Shoal Creek and being on suicide watch. The apologizes for not being at school, which I didn’t think much of because she had been in and out of homebound for one weird reason than another that school year. Then she tells me the one thing I won’t forget. She asks me if she can get her work from her other teachers because she is kind of in a bad place, and tells me she feels safe in my room and just wants to work in there for the rest of the day. Never being asked this before, I made it happen, gladly and she sat at my desk the rest of the day doing her work and taking breaks to do odd jobs for me. I made it a point after that to give her a hug and tell her how glad I was she was at school after that. By God, if she wasn’t in my class nearly every day the rest of the school year, more than I had seen her the whole semester.
There are countless others... I also think of sweet, sweet Juan who's dad died the previous year, won't work for me or anyone else, but says to another teacher I am the only teacher he feels cares about him because every day whether he likes it or not, I tell him I am glad he is in my class...
You may not catch them all, and while I DO think hands down I am good at what I do, regardless of what you think, YOU DO make a difference as a teacher in the lives of students. While it may not feel like it is your “job” to be their mom, dad, pastor, counselor, mentor, teacher, circus ring leader, etc. It really is. You may be the only positive part of their day, and having positive relationships with kids makes all the difference. If you aren’t aboard the train, you are gonna miss something. Big time.
What they don't know, is I feel really moved to share this story. Being a part of the PBIS "team" we are making a big presentation this week. Being the new kid in town, I didn't score voice time, but I think that may change after a powerful email gets sent I haven't written yet.
My porch is a place I can let it all out, and safe to say, there is gonna be a lotta lettin' this year.
