Introduction to The Tard Blog Mirror

STORIES OF A SPECIAL ED TEACHER.

This is a mirror of the original www.tardblog.com written by Riti Sped and Tucker Max (www.tuckermax.com) which has since been taken down. This work remains their property.

The other mirror (http://www.fullduplex.org/tardblog/) is not laid out properly, and detracts from the overall quality of the work.


Nitty.


Monday, December 23, 2002

Riti's favorite tard




Last year I had the best tard ever, but sadly, she moved away over the summer. I always think about her. She was always so happy. She smiled, did whatever you said without question, and never, ever abused me. She was cute, too. She had cerebral palsy that caused her to sway randomly and bob her head around for no apparent reason. She also loved me. 

One day I got mad at her because during her typing time, she was messing around and pressing a bunch of keys down at once, going real fast, etc. I told her I was disappointed in her and she started to cry. I actually felt bad about it. The only thing that really bothered me about her was that she asked lots of random, pointless questions, and at unacceptable times.

This was the scenario one particular day last year:

I am working one-on-one with her doing sequencing activities. Her and I are the only people in the entire room. She is continuously asking me "Miss [Sped] what did you do over the weekend?" 

First of all, she is unable to comprehend anything complex. Complex includes past tense, future tense, and basic language recognition and association. Secondly, if I honestly told her about the debaucheries of my weekend, I would have been fired on the spot. 

Anyway, I am trying to do the lesson with her, and she keeps asking me about my weekend. I would make up a few simple activities, like going for a walk or brushing my teeth, and tell her I did them. She would then ask, "What else did you do over the weekend?," over and over. 

We were getting nothing done, it was a hot day outside, the classroom was hot because the a/c was not working properly, and I was getting angry. She then looks at me and asks, "Miss [Sped], What did you eat over the weekend?" 

After half an hour of her, this question put me over the edge. I look her straight in the eyes and say "Poop!" 

She gasped, totally in disbelief of what I had just said, and responded, "Miss [Sped] I’m going to tell your mom on you."

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