Chris always showed remorse when he caused a problem. And he caused a lot of problems. That first day of school he looked up
at me, pale eyes full of self-doubt, and asked me if he did OK on his first
paper. He hadn't. Chris wasn’t timid or
stupid, he just expected to disappoint the people he loved. Chris was ADHD.
Despite Chris’s heart of gold, he could not control his
attention problems or hyperactivity.
As a result, he entered my fifth grade fully expecting to be a bad boy,
yet yearning to please.
After the first day, I realized I had made more behavior
corrections for Chris than all other students combined. By the end of the first week, he
probably had many times the behavior corrections of all my other students. This wasn’t sustainable, either for
Chris or for me.
Talking with other teachers and reading up on the subject, I
came up with five strategies to make sure Chris and I had a great year.
I’m going to talk about one of the strategies in this blog
post and the other four in a future blog entry.
Strategy One: 5:1
My goal became to give Chris five positive affirmations for
every correction he received. This strategy would become the most important and
effective of anything Chris and I did to make his fifth grade year a good
one.
Since Chris was nearly powerless to control his impulsivity,
I had to become creative to make sure he was constantly successful in other
areas and try to figure out ways to lower the number of behavior corrections. I also spent a great deal of time
watching Chris to catch him being good. It’s a powerful thing when a teacher is looking for positive in a
student.
Put yourself in Chris’s place for a moment. How would you feel if, in the course of
a day, your supervisor told you dozens of times that you were making
mistakes, being rude or not paying attention? It would wear on you, right? Some teachers might be crushed with just one critical
comment. What could I do to make
sure Chris received lots of affirmations?
As often as Chris would interrupt someone, it would have
been easy to think he didn’t care about others’ feelings. In fact, the opposite was true. When I made him the “super buddy” of
Greg, the handicapped student, who came in for certain activities, Chris showed
a degree of empathy and tenderness that brought confidence to both himself and
Greg. I could use time-helping-in-Greg’s-class
as a reward for Chris.
I also put Chris in charge of our classroom fish tank. I trained him in the secret arts
of tank maintenance and fish care.
He became the fish boss, rising in social rank among his
less-knowledgeable peers. Keeping
the feeding and maintenance schedule might have also made Chris more aware of
dates and times. Like many ADHD sufferers, Chris was horribly disorganized. Also, fish bosses must
be out of their seat to check on the fish, so I didn't need to tell him to go back to his seat so often.
Chris and I came up with codes for me to tell him he was
doing well or if he needed to knock it off. If I touched his paper, book or desk, it that meant I liked what I was
seeing. If I shook my head at him,
he knew to stop doing something.
If I needed a student to model something, I tried to find was to use
Chris as a demonstrator or helper. This got
him out of his seat and often out of trouble.
Finding out that he was a valued member of the class gave
Chris a new confidence. His
classmates saw him as the loveable clown he had been in previous grades, but also as a
successful and respected class member.
With his classmates providing some of the positive encounters for Chris,
it boosted him even more.
Chris and I had our good days and bad. Sometimes, he seemed to need 10
positives for every correction, other times, he got along great with the 5:1
ratio. Overall, he and I developed
a close working relationship built on trust and respect based on the 5:1
plan. There were four other
strategies that helped Chris and me to have a great year, one which came from a completely unexpected source.