Time to change what I was doing...

I listened to the little voice in my head that said that I had not been serving Josh well, and that went for most of my other students with learning disabilities as well. It's not that I was shirking responsibility, and I wasn't a lazy teacher waiting for a big pension; I really was doing the best I could with what I knew. I was beginning to realize however, that there must be things about learners like Josh that I didn't know. Things that I should know if I was to continue in the job.

At about this time I was scheduled to take some inservice training in a program that was getting great reviews in the literature, but was notoriously difficulty to learn to do; The Lindamood Phoneme Sequencing Program, or LiPS as it is known as. It was exciting to learn a technique that I could see working for students like Josh, even if it was too late for him. I went with a woman who I had the privilege of sharing the special ed job with for 9 years, Lisa. We team taught for most of those years and our strengths and preferences complimented eachother's beautifully. It was the most rewarding working relationship I have ever had. She is a very dedicated and highly regarded special education teacher in her district.She is also one of my dearest friends. She felt the same frustration I did at not knowing how to help our students more effectively.

We came back to our school and immediately implemented this program. We worked together and had back to back groups of 8-12 learners at a time, each running for 4 months. While we got impressive results, better than any we had gotten previously- the groups were just too large.

Lisa and I went to visit a friend of hers, who happened to be the CEO of a world class private school for students with Learning Disabilities, the Calgary Academy. They were piloting a program that was getting similar results to the LiPS program, in half the time. The CEO invited us to take a very close look at the program, and to be involved in the revision process. We jumped at the chance. We went back for a week of training and then a weekend of picking it apart with other teachers.
We were so impressed that we we spent extra time with them.

Then the CEO offered Lisa and I a business proposition; the Calgary Academy ran a reading clinic business with the general public as part of it's funding scheme, and he was offering us a limited licensing agreement to set up the same thing in our province, BC. It was an exciting proposition, but one that required some careful consideration. We both had job security, and this venture would mean leaving the teaching profession as we knew it. After a week of hashing it around and thinking about it, we were prepared to do it. It was a risk- Alberta had rich oil families who would pay for private instruction- but what about BC?

We wrote a business plan and started plans for our first reading clinic, to take place in the summer. We were both excited and very nervous about it. While the program seemed extremely well written, based on current and solid research,and the Calgary Academy reported good results, neither Lisa nor I had actually run a session ourselves. Sadly, the partnership came to a sudden end one day, when due to a family crisis, Lisa had to back out. I decided to continue on my own.

I had my first reading clinic with 12 students, and trained and hired two colleagues to work with me that summer. And here is where the story comes full circle. Sometimes I think things happen for a reason- and this is one of them. In May, as what was to be my final public school year was winding down, I got a call from Josh's mother. I had not seen Josh for 3 years. I started with the usual small talk and asked how Josh was doing, and then his mom broke down in tears. Josh had had a miserable time, was doing poorly, and was severely depressed. He wanted to quit school. He said he had done all he could and it was just not good enough. The teachers at his high school thought he was stupid and lazy. One had embarassed him be asking him infront of the class, "What's wrong with you, can't you read? What am I supposed to do with you?" Another told him, "I have very high standards in my class. I'm not lowering them for you or anyone else!". He'd had enough. He wanted out. He also hinted that he thought life was just too hard and he might want off the big bus too. Josh's mom did not know, could not have known, what I was working on; Lisa and I had kept it very hush hush. We weren't at all sure what the union would say and we wanted to have things in place before we crossed that bridge. So when Josh's mom asked if I knew of anything that could help Josh- anything at all- I was taken aback. There was a very pregnant pause on the phone. His mom, thinking that she had crossed a line and was imposing on me, began to appologize. "I think I can help him". I blurted out. And then I prayed that I could.