As a not-so-young teacher entering my first Language Arts classroom, I was ready to teach secondary skills. I had all the classes, all the methods. Imagine my surprise when a good seventy percent of my parochial school students were reading and writing well below grade level. So much for private school hype. I could have taught junior high skills regardless and left many of them at sea, but I chose to meet them where they were. It was a lot harder on me, but it was the right thing to do. As it turns out, that was one of the easier battles of my teaching career.
The other day I went to pick up my kindergarten student, and people started whispering and standing back from me. Turns out he had been sent home with lice. Live lice. According to the school nurse, his mom had been battling them for some weeks now. I shuddered. Then I went to the school nurse and had her check my head.
When I was growing up I had no experience with lice, and I didn't know anyone who did. My mom told stories. She had lice once, and after my grandmother doused her head with kerosene, she cut off Mom's long blonde curls. The point of this story? Don't wear other people's hats or hair ties. It really wasn't an issue, though, and I don't remember the school nurse ever coming in and doing head checks like they do now.
When my daughter and her head full of naturally curly hair were in third grade, she started scratching her head a lot. Since it was always a battle to get the brush through the curls, I thought she had dry scalp and her hair just needed a good brushing. Clueless, I had her bring her brush to me and bend her head over. I was going to start at the nape of her neck where she itched. Live lice fell out on my shirt and I freaked. Happily my mom was still alive, and she told me to wash everything my daughter had been in contact with, to check my son's head, and to ask the pharmacist what they recommended. He recommended calling the doctor and getting a prescription shampoo. We did that, and my daughter sat not so patiently on our front porch as I picked nits, both old and new, out of her hair. It took a couple of days to be sure I got them all, and I got a real appreciation for the term "nit-picking."
We did fine after that until I taught at the parochial school. My fourth year there, the junior high started first, and we had games and movies to welcome them back. Since I taught both seventh and eighth grades, I got hugs from my returning students. AND I got lice. Once the school nurse investigated, she ended up closing the school. Surprisingly, the infestation appeared to have started with the older students. Their parents shampooed, but they apparently didn't know about the cleaning and nit-picking they had to do. Our school made the city newspaper and the local news, much to the chagrin of the principal, but as it turns out the neighboring schools had infestations as well. They just didn't close down and draw attention to themselves.
Since then, I have been pretty careful. I have long hair,so I tie it back when I have to work closely with my younger and or handicapped students. They need hand-over-hand attention, and you have to work from behind them so the movements feel natural. Hence my apprehension with the kindergartener the other day.
Having said all that, though, if I am to do my job the way it needs to be done, I MUST get close to my students. Lice is just a risk of that. I had to get over the drooling of some of my other students,too. They can't help it, but since the medicine I take for rheumatoid arthritis suppresses my immune system, their drooling is a risk for me. Now finally, as an adult, I am almost obsessive about washing my hands. I scrub under my fingernails, and I go all the way through the ABC song to make sure I have washed long enough.
Some parents know about the continual schooling teachers need. Some realize that we take more flack from parents than your average citizen would consider humanly possible. But I wonder how many have even considered that their child's cough or their child's lice represents a hazard? I wonder how many would care.
The other day I went to pick up my kindergarten student, and people started whispering and standing back from me. Turns out he had been sent home with lice. Live lice. According to the school nurse, his mom had been battling them for some weeks now. I shuddered. Then I went to the school nurse and had her check my head.
When I was growing up I had no experience with lice, and I didn't know anyone who did. My mom told stories. She had lice once, and after my grandmother doused her head with kerosene, she cut off Mom's long blonde curls. The point of this story? Don't wear other people's hats or hair ties. It really wasn't an issue, though, and I don't remember the school nurse ever coming in and doing head checks like they do now.
When my daughter and her head full of naturally curly hair were in third grade, she started scratching her head a lot. Since it was always a battle to get the brush through the curls, I thought she had dry scalp and her hair just needed a good brushing. Clueless, I had her bring her brush to me and bend her head over. I was going to start at the nape of her neck where she itched. Live lice fell out on my shirt and I freaked. Happily my mom was still alive, and she told me to wash everything my daughter had been in contact with, to check my son's head, and to ask the pharmacist what they recommended. He recommended calling the doctor and getting a prescription shampoo. We did that, and my daughter sat not so patiently on our front porch as I picked nits, both old and new, out of her hair. It took a couple of days to be sure I got them all, and I got a real appreciation for the term "nit-picking."
We did fine after that until I taught at the parochial school. My fourth year there, the junior high started first, and we had games and movies to welcome them back. Since I taught both seventh and eighth grades, I got hugs from my returning students. AND I got lice. Once the school nurse investigated, she ended up closing the school. Surprisingly, the infestation appeared to have started with the older students. Their parents shampooed, but they apparently didn't know about the cleaning and nit-picking they had to do. Our school made the city newspaper and the local news, much to the chagrin of the principal, but as it turns out the neighboring schools had infestations as well. They just didn't close down and draw attention to themselves.
Since then, I have been pretty careful. I have long hair,so I tie it back when I have to work closely with my younger and or handicapped students. They need hand-over-hand attention, and you have to work from behind them so the movements feel natural. Hence my apprehension with the kindergartener the other day.
Having said all that, though, if I am to do my job the way it needs to be done, I MUST get close to my students. Lice is just a risk of that. I had to get over the drooling of some of my other students,too. They can't help it, but since the medicine I take for rheumatoid arthritis suppresses my immune system, their drooling is a risk for me. Now finally, as an adult, I am almost obsessive about washing my hands. I scrub under my fingernails, and I go all the way through the ABC song to make sure I have washed long enough.
Some parents know about the continual schooling teachers need. Some realize that we take more flack from parents than your average citizen would consider humanly possible. But I wonder how many have even considered that their child's cough or their child's lice represents a hazard? I wonder how many would care.
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