She wasn’t in the best of health though. Like many children with Down syndrome, she was born with a congenital heart defect. When she was a baby, she underwent a major heart operation, which left a long scar that started from the front of her chest, across her shoulder and all the way to her back.

Learning wise, she was the slowest in the class. She didn’t know any of the alphabets and was not able to  differentiate between the different colors or shapes. With some help, she did managed to complete 8-piece puzzles. She was happy and slightly timid in class.

Occasionally, her dad gave me rides to and from the Center. It was in her car that I caught a glimpse of her very playful and cheeky self. She demanded her way with her maid and according to her dad, she’s the queen of the house.

When her parents took her to register for Standard 1 (1st grade) in a public school that has special education classes, her parents were told that because Ying-Ying was not fully toilet-trained, the school was considering not admitting her. So for the next few months, toilet-training for her was a top priority for both her parents and I.

I left the Center at the end of the school year (after one and a half years at the Center) to prepare to continue my studies in the US. One day, several months later, I received a text message from the assistant teacher at the Center. She informed me that Ying-ying passed away in her sleep. She was 7 years old.

It was sad. It was unexpected. It’s hard to explain what I felt. One of my young students just died.

Looking back, I hope I wasn’t too hard on her when she couldn’t tell “merah” (red) from “biru” (blue), even after several months of going through that. Most of all, I hope that she felt loved in my class.

Everything went smoothly on his first day. He was an independent child who did not cling to his mom when she dropped him off. I do not recall any significant problem behavior on his first day. When the class was over, his mom came to pick him up. As soon as he left, a mother of another student, with a rather terrified look, rushed into the room. She questioned me if Jamie was really joining the class and when I said yes, she told me the whole story. Apparently, Jamie had quite a reputation at the early intervention center that most of the kids in my classroom had attended or were still attending. According to her, Jamie would push or hit other children at the other place, and her daughter was scared of him. She requested that I keep Jamie a safe distance from her daughter. That was quite surprising to me since I did not observe any aggression while he was in the class.

Few days later, I had my first glimpse of him pushing another student. Later, I noticed that he only pushed or hit at the end of class when all the mothers came up to pick up their kids. And as soon as it happened, there would be a big commotion in the room: his mother would rush to reprimand him, the mother of the victim would rush to comfort her child, and the other mothers would watch in horror. As the mothers watched, they probably told themselves to remind this Cikgu (teacher) to keep a careful watch over their children.

It was tricky at first. When he pushed, everyone would watch to see how I would handle the situation. It was obvious that he only pushed the other children when the mothers were in the room, and he gained lots of attention from doing that. The expected course of action was for me to punish or reprimand him and then have him say “sorry” to the other child. Even at that time, I dislike doing that. It felt so contrived and I could see in his face, the triumphant grin of having gained all the attention in the room.

Eventually, Jamie stopped pushing. I do not remember if I did anything specific to reduce and eventually eliminate the pushing. It could be the positive attention that the assistant teacher and I poured on the students, so he did not have to misbehave to gain our attention. Aside from his end-of-class aggression, he was a sweet boy the rest of the time. He was attentive and very helpful. He loved to be the leader and be put in charge of keeping the toys and whatever tasks I gave him. He was also bossy with the other kids, but he got along well with them. Even the little girl, who was supposedly scared of him, was fine sitting next to him in class. He did not hit her and she showed no signs of fear.

When Jamie entered standard one (first grade), he stopped coming to the Center. One day I received a call from his mom. She told me that Jamie wanted to talk to me and she handed the phone to him and he proceeded to “talk” to me. Since he did not have good verbal skills, I had no idea what he was saying. But it was really sweet of him to remember his Cikgu.

Now that I know a little more, what could I have done differently or the same:
1. The positive attention (catch them being good) is a good move. Pay attention to the kids when they are being good instead of paying negative attention (e.g., scolding/reprimanding) only when they misbehave.
2. I would make sure that the other kids are a safe distance from Jamie at the end of the class. And I would request the other mothers that when they go in to pick up their kids, to first go over and say something nice to Jamie, even if it is just giving him a pat on his head. This way he gets the attention before he pushes, and that may prevent the pushing behavior.
3. If he does manage to push another child, I would also request the other mothers to not react to that but to just pick up their child and leave, while I would take him out of the classroom to another room till the other kids have left. This way he would not get any attention from the mothers when he misbehaved. I would only tell him once that what he did was wrong and we would sit quietly in another room.
4. I should also have social skills lessons during the class. The assistant teacher and I could model to the kids appropriate and inappropriate classroom behaviors. Teach them which is good and which is bad. Then we could model the behaviors again and have the kids judge the behaviors. Lastly, if they were able to, I would have the kids show me the good and the bad behavior. Hmmm, maybe not the bad behavior….

Buzzword for this intervention:
Antecedent intervention
Social skills training

I think of all the students that have crossed my path, Michael is probably the one who has taught me the most about respect and love for an individual with disability. The House then was using aversives to “teach” the students and after being there for some time, that got to me. One time when I was with Michael helping him put on his shoes, he was slow as usual, and I don’t know what came over me but I gave him a light slap on his face and he was shocked by that. At that time, I justified the act that the students need some stimulus to “awaken” them. But I knew what I did was wrong and that act still haunts me. Noone deserves to be treated that way, I would never do that to my nieces or nephews, I would not even do that to a cat or a dog, so why did I think I could do that to Michael?

That’s not the only lesson that Michael taught me. The teachers would take the students out to the community for lunch once a week. And there I was taking care of Michael and another student at a food court. Michael just had his lunch and he was quite a mess. All of a sudden a very smiley man came over with two of his friends and I was perplexed seeing this man approaching my table. Then he carried Michael in his arms and declared proudly to his friends,”This is my son!” and then he affectionately embraced his messy son. I realized then if an earthly father could love his disabled son with all his “imperfections” so very much, our Heavenly Father loves Michael and all my students with disabilities even more. And that has been my guide towards being a better special education teacher, and more importantly, a better person.

So that’s what Michael taught me.