True confessions allow for true growth (part two)

So, back to Dora: it all began in the bathroom.

We take four scheduled bathroom breaks during the day, in which we walk together to the big bathrooms (with multiple stalls) to get our business done all at once. It was one of the first pieces of the routine I took over, and one of the first one-on-one encounters I had with Dora on a number of occasions. She was consistently the last one finished, the slowest to wash her hands, and just kind of in her own world the whole time, not even acknowledging our reminders that bathroom breaks are when "we do our business, we wash our hands, and come right out, ready to go back for more fun in the classroom." When I went in to watch the whole scene play out from the beginning, I realized that she was spending a lot of time initiating games with the other girls, flashing the lights, locking herself in the stall and crawling underneath to the next one, and flicking water from the sink.

In retrospect, I did not acknowledge her curiosity and creativity, or take any joy in her sense of play; I suspect my own intentions for that time plus my customary knowledge that bathrooms aren't a place to play for reasons more hygienic than social. As a result, I was pretty firm in my dislike of her behavior, mostly because it kept everyone else out in the hall, getting noisier as they waited. But there was something more, something beyond her sheer play that rubbed me the wrong way: she seemed to pay no mind to my authority whatsoever. As I realized this, I began noticing a variety of situations in which she completely dismissed or ignored what the adults in the room said to her or asked of her. What other students could read in our voices and body language as a redirection or suggestion for behavior did not seem to register at all in her mind.

My cooperating teacher and the paraprofessional assistant both consider her to be "simply very young", pointing out that she sucks her thumb at Quiet Time (when students lay down with a pillow for 15 minutes) and that she uses much more primitive language and grammar in her speech than the other students. Did her parents lie when they filled out her birth date at registration?, we asked ourselves jokingly. In my own mind, further questions emerged: Is this really a developmental issue? If so, what are some other ways to observe possible stages of development? Would they reveal consistency, or a "delay" in particular elements of her development? I began making a point of watching her a bit more intently to begin putting some pieces together ...

As I observe Dora with her peers, a certain mean streak has surfaced in her social interactions. I watched her initiate conflict with other students both outside at recess and inside at free play time or standing in line, especially. During such unstructured time, she often begins playing on her own, and especially loves dressing up to the point of excessiveness (memories of the three purses I used to carry in Kindergarten come to mind...). When she does attempt to play with the others, who are also engaged in imaginary play, she can't quite seem to find her way into the group, and so lashes out instead to get attention. I'm beginning to wonder if the others are turned off by her apparent inability to engage cooperatively in imaginary play, where several children share one fantasy and interact with each other within it. She obviously feels ostracized, but I don't think she realizes what she's doing that elicits such a negative response from her peers. For example, she'll stick her tongue out at someone, who will then run away not wanting to play, at which she begins to cry that no one wants to play with her.

The pictures that Dora draws of herself in her journal were overly ornamental, with an onslaught of color on top of color that she could never consider complete, no matter how long she had to finish. In addition, she consistently portrays herself with feminine attributes and accessories, such as high heels and fancy belts, as well as long hair and pierced ears, which she knows she does not have.

Finally, Dora's immediate reaction to any conversation perceived as an accusation or conflict that she does not wish to admit to, is to cover her ears or eyes, as if to deny what is happening. When I would ask her to come out of the big bathroom stall (she is now only allowed to use the classroom bathroom), she would often say, "Dora isn't here." or "I'm not Dora, I'm Brittany." The stories she tells about anything differ from one telling to the next: "I got a splinter" can turn to "I cut myself with a knife" within seconds. There appears to be an impulsiveness that inhabits her entire way of being, so that I really can't tell if she's thinking about what she's saying or doing at all.

There is more of the story to tell, for sure, but I'm curious what others think at this point. I know my observations do not provide a full and valid picture, but I would still be awfully interested in what other perspectives offer. Post a comment or send me an email with your own thoughts! The saga will continue shortly ...