Read an Excerpt
Hi. My name is Izzy. I started first grade 32 days ago. I hate to tell you, but it has not been as great as my kindergarten teacher said it would be.
I cried a lot of the first 20 days or so. And I spent a lot of time looking for a safe place to get away from all the craziness that was going on.
When everything became too much for me, I hid under the computer table.
Center time was one of the things I hated the most. They should call it something else, like “crazy loud time.” Grace was
always in my group; we sat at the blue table with Ben. Grace could draw trees that don’t look like lollipops. Her trees look like real trees. And she can make a rhyme with any word you say. But she has a voice that hurts my ears. It makes my insides rattle. I felt like pushing her away from my ears to make her stop talking “into” me when she was playing her rhyming game.
But I know that hands are not for hitting, so instead I usually cried and covered my ears. I couldn’t help it. It hurt! The kids called me a baby. But I’m not a baby. Noisy places make me feel frustrated.
But I know that hands are not for hitting, so instead I usually cried and covered my ears. I couldn’t help it. It hurt! The kids called me a baby. But I’m not a baby. Noisy places make me feel frustrated.
Another thing that was hard about first grade in the beginning was that there are more kids in my class than last year. More kids to bump into me if they forget their line basics and more kids to step on my shoelaces when I’m trying to put my backpack in my locker in the morning.
When kids bumped into me, I used to think they were being bullies and trying to pick on me. My teacher would say, “Izzy, that was an accident. Alexander didn’t mean to bump into you.” I still wanted to belt him. I felt like I was going to blow into pieces.
I’m a smart kid, but my brain messes up the signals sometimes. I have a sensory processing disorder. When a friend brushes up against me, sometimes my brain can’t tell the difference between a bump that happens by accident and a threat to hurt me.
That’s why I hit Alexander one time. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but my brain thought I was in danger, so I defended myself by hitting. My mom and dad, my teachers, and an occupational therapist have been trying to help me. The occupational therapist at my school helps kids learn to listen to their bodies and find ways to feel calmer and ready to learn. She’s been helping me figure out the things that make me feel uncomfortable and angry at school. By working with her, I found out that I am not a mean kid or a crybaby, like some of the other kids said. My brain also tells me that sounds are louder than they really are. At home, I hate the noise from the hairdryer and the vacuum cleaner. I used to cover my ears and cry when my mom turned them on. I have learned that it’s a little better if she warns me before she turns them on. Sometimes I put my headphones on to block out the noise. That works, too. Mom says the vacuum makes me irritable. When I’m irritable, I might slam the door to my room, or I might yell at my little sister. I’m pretty sure “irritable” means “crabby.”
You know what else? Having too many things to look at really annoys me. My teacher is very proud of all the great artwork we do, but when she hangs everything we make from the ceiling, it’s too much for me to look at. I have a hard time focusing on her calendar time when there are 26 giant construction paper apples floating around in the air. I also don’t like the lights in our classroom. They are too bright and make it hard to think.
My teacher has made some changes here at school to help me. Things are much better. Now, I’m sitting with a different group of kids at the yellow table by Mrs. Malone’s desk. I like Grace lots more from a distance because her voice doesn’t hurt my ears.
For other noises that used to bother me, I wear earplugs if I need them. I can use them in the lunchroom and during gym class. These are especially noisy places at school. When I can tune out hurtful noises, I can concentrate on the more important things like getting my work done, eating lunch, and playing games in gym class, instead of worrying about how loud it is around me.
My locker is on the end now, so I have more space. I don’t get bumped into as much, and I don’t feel as mad. Mrs. Malone says I have a bigger space bubble. My friends know about my bubble, and they try not to pop it.
But even with these changes, things can still get to be too much for me at school. When that happens, I spend some time in the motor room, swinging, crashing, and jumping. The motor room is like a small gym, with swings and jumpy things. I also play games called “Izzy Taco” and “Steamroller.”
When I play Izzy Taco, I pretend a big heavy mat is a taco shell, and I roll up inside with pillows and beanbags that I pretend are lettuce, cheese, and sour cream. When I play Steamroller, I lie down on my tummy and get flattened by a big ball. These games help me relax my body, so I feel calmer when I go back to class and can concentrate on my work and be around the other kids.
I also use some tools at school to help me feel calm so I can learn better. I use a heavy blanket on my lap during morning meeting.
Sometimes I squeeze a fidget. My favorite is a yellow, squishy ball. Mrs. Malone calls it a hand tool.
I still have some hard days, but my tools are helping me feel calmer and I am able to focus better on the important things in school. My teachers understand me better.
When we are writing in our journals, my teacher plays classical music. These
kinds of sounds make me feel more organized and help me concentrate.
The changes Mrs. Malone made to our classroom make me feel lots better.
Mrs. Malone took down some of our artwork in the room. She also took down some of her other decorations and got some storage
bins where she put lots of learning stuff that used to sit on the counters. Mrs. Malone doesn’t turn the fluorescent lights on as much any more. There’s a lamp in our room instead, and sometimes she lets a sunny day light our room. She says all the kids seem more focused now. I guess some things that bother me bother other kids, too. Never thought of that before. There’s even a twelve-year-old kid down the street, Brad, who has the same kind of problems.
Being at home is a lot easier because there is not as much commotion as there is at school. But when I do start feeling
irritable at home, there are things I can do there, too. I can cool off in my room when things get to be too much. I like it there. I turn the lights down and sit in my beanbag chair under my heavy blanket. I feel my breathing slow down and soon I feel happier again. The crabbiness disappears.
I think first grade is going to be O.K. I have lots of friends. My mom and dad think my reading rocks. They are so proud of me.
