As of yesterday morning, Wendy Portillo still had a listed phone number. I'm guessing that will change, lest others decide to let her know what being 'voted off the island' entails.
You know, I can understand how someone could get to that point. I've worked with challenging kids. But actually having the poor kid stand at the front of the class and humiliate him? He's FIVE! For crying out loud, that woman shouldn't work with dogs, let alone children.
The age does make her actions extraordinarily egregious. But also he has Asperger's, which is no fault of his; it's not like he maliciously acts (or reacts) the way he does.
Briefly, I had an abusive 2nd grade teacher who would drag me back to my desk from latchkey by my hair or ear if I forgot my cut and paste ditto on my desk. My mom then changed her mind and allowed me to jump into 3rd grade for the rest of the year (not much left anyway), and in 4th grade (at another school), my teacher was emotionally abusive.
According to my mom, she was resentful of all the children who made it into the STRIVE program that went to another school one day a week to learn advanced things. She treated us all poorly enough that the parents sent a petition around, and those parents told my mom she treated me worst of all. I do remember hiding behind the door while they talked to her.
The teacher used to frequently stand me in front of the class and say things to make me cry. I had serious bullies that year, partly because the teacher instructed the other students not to play with me.
The only two solid memories I have of being in the class are these:
1. I remember standing in front of the class, tucking my chin to my chest, arms wrapped around my head, trying desperately not to cry.
2. I remember standing up to my bullies in the classroom for the first time ever. This guy and his cronies were waiting for me to leave the classroom for free play, and I was the only one left in the room. I grabbed a pair of (safety, I think) scissors and told them if they ever touched me again, I'd kill them.
As you may imagine, rather than it being seen as heroic, the principal tried to tell my mom I had to go on drugs before he'd let me back. She refused, though I did see a few psychiatrists after that (some okay, some horrifyingly bad).
From that year on, I went from an easy A student to a C or worse student. By the time I figured out why I absolutely despised school and didn't want anything to do with it, it was my junior year in high school, and it was all I could do to pull up my grades enough to graduate.
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Date: 2008-05-26 11:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-26 01:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-27 05:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-28 07:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-28 07:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-28 08:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-28 08:46 pm (UTC)According to my mom, she was resentful of all the children who made it into the STRIVE program that went to another school one day a week to learn advanced things. She treated us all poorly enough that the parents sent a petition around, and those parents told my mom she treated me worst of all. I do remember hiding behind the door while they talked to her.
The teacher used to frequently stand me in front of the class and say things to make me cry. I had serious bullies that year, partly because the teacher instructed the other students not to play with me.
The only two solid memories I have of being in the class are these:
1. I remember standing in front of the class, tucking my chin to my chest, arms wrapped around my head, trying desperately not to cry.
2. I remember standing up to my bullies in the classroom for the first time ever. This guy and his cronies were waiting for me to leave the classroom for free play, and I was the only one left in the room. I grabbed a pair of (safety, I think) scissors and told them if they ever touched me again, I'd kill them.
As you may imagine, rather than it being seen as heroic, the principal tried to tell my mom I had to go on drugs before he'd let me back. She refused, though I did see a few psychiatrists after that (some okay, some horrifyingly bad).
From that year on, I went from an easy A student to a C or worse student. By the time I figured out why I absolutely despised school and didn't want anything to do with it, it was my junior year in high school, and it was all I could do to pull up my grades enough to graduate.