The Old Ways

I have a student in class who's behaviors reflect my feelings as I'm wandering through this part of my life with my daughter (He is the one I wrote about wanting a 'do-over').  I am always fascinated by how fragile we all really are.  This child is very smart and loving.  Regardless of how mad he gets at me (I am the boundary maker and it's hard to accept at any age) he always wants me to walk him to his bus.  He thrives on unbending routine. He is from a good home. His mother loves him very much.  He doesn't like surprises.  I think this is because he has an older sister at home who is very handicapped. His mom has told me on several occasions that she is taken to the hospital during the night, or is up all night.  Her disability causes a lot of disruption and inconsistencies.  My student, I'll call him Sam (not his real name) I believe has in his young mind, become so upset by change and needs consistency so much, that he spends his whole life now, making sure things are done his way.  If things are done his way, then he feels there will be no 'surprises'.  He can be in control, and feel safe and comfortable.  He has created an intricate maze of boundaries around himself. The only problem is that he can't always figure out how to get out of that maze.  He locks himself in and any change, then, causes severe anxiety and stress.  This is my opinion from observing and working with him, but I know I'm right. :)

Anyway, because of his needing to control, which also feeds into his need to have perfect grades, introducing a new concept to him must be attempted very gingerly.  You have to talk to him about it first, several days in advance.  "You know, Sam, you do very well at multiplication.  We're going to be learning division in a few weeks. I know you'll do just as well then, too."  Then show him some problems, just to get a visual. Then slowly introduce it in between the multiplication.  It's time consuming and a little like baiting a squirrel with a nut, but it works.   So, I have a student teacher in the room.  She had just finished fractions.  We are usually in small groups, but I told her to try teaching the whole class decimals.  Addition and subtraction of decimals went well.  Sam was doing fine.  Understanding the concepts.  Lining up the decimals for adding and subtracting fit into his tight comfort zone frame work.  Then came multiplication of decimals. He could multiply but thought that he only had to count the decimal point not the spaces to figure out the answer.  He couldn't handle this.   First, he just sat at his desk, like his brain was trying but just couldn't accept that amount of a new idea.  Then he clenched his teeth. His eyes got red, and he started balling up his fists.  I'm watching him, preparing for what comes next.  He gets up and comes over to me. Through clenched teeth, "This is not right.  I am not going to do this."  "What's not right, Sam?"   "You know. I am not going to do this."  "Multiplying the decimals?"  "Yes.  It is wrong. You are doing it wrong. I can not do it."   "Sam, you're very smart. You know how to multiply, all you have to do is count the spaces to place the decimal."  He talks like a robot when he's mad. He needs to make sure each word is perfect and explicit. This discussion continues for  40 minutes. He won't sit down. He follows me.  If I sit down, he stands behind me.  You can hear him taking in breaths through his teeth, breathing hard.  And I patiently continue to reassure him, that it will be okay, and he will be able to do this like he's done all of the other times.  His response, "I want to go back to the Old Ways."   (He means fractions because they were easy for him). 

When he said that, for two seconds I felt as though I were in an ancient Indian tribe. The Old Ways.  The Old Ways are easier.  They're familiar.  More comfortable.  Predictable.  These 'New Ways' are so scary.  I understand what he means.  I continued to reassure him that, yes, these may be the 'New Ways,' but as soon as he understands they'll be the comfortable Old Ways.  He just wiped his eyes (he was holding back tears) and looked at me.  The panic in those big, blue eyes said it all.  So, I didn't say anymore.  We stopped talking about it. He continued to hang out by me, but I either busied myself with another student or guided the conversation in more positive, neutral territory.  He's so funny.  By the end of the day, he was okay, pleasant and I was walking him to the bus.  We'll see what today brings. 

The Old Ways.  I want those, too.  Even with the frustrations they produced, I could handle that.  These New Ways of a life with addiction are hard and unpredictable and frustrating.  I haven't learned how to work the equation, yet.  I'm still counting the decimals instead of the spaces.  Events aren't always going to line up for me, anymore.  Not like they used to.  So, I need to understand these new problems and figure out the answers that work for them, not the old problems.  It will take time and patience.  I might clench my teeth and ball up my fists.  Tears might be ready to stream down my face, but I need to keep moving forward so that at some point, these New Ways become the Old Ways and I can finally work my way out of this maze.