Voices

© 2011 by Julie Chelagat Bore, Ph.D. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 11/11/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4634-8756-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4634-8755-3 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011915716

Printed in the United States of America

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Contents

Foreword

Preface

Acknowledgements

Introduction

Chapter 1

Girl Mothers

Chapter 2

Homeless Hearts

Chapter 3

Pain and Sorrow

Chapter 4

Choices and Consequences

Chapter 5

Parents

Chapter 6

Despair

Chapter 7

Inspirations

Chapter 8

Implications and Conclusions

About the Author

References

Sources of Quotes

For

My dear parents - Lawrence and Felicitas Korir.

My dear husband and sons - Sam, Shallom, and Kippy Bore.

My Late Sister - Mrs. Jennie Sainah.

Foreword

When we think about youth in America, most often, we make the assumption that they come from caring families who provide food, shelter, a nourishing environment, and love. Unfortunately, these basic needs have escaped an increasing number of young people. Family circumstances (e.g., the lack of monetary resources, physical and/or mental illnesses, addictions) deny many the basic essentials of a happy life. Sometimes, young people decide they cannot tolerate the constraints placed on them by their families and either decide to go off on their own or, because of their behaviors, are asked to leave by their parents or caregivers. Once out of their homes and without other alternatives, many sleep on the streets, turn to drugs and alcohol, engage in prostitution, thievery, drug dealings, and other illegal activities to support themselves.

Julie Bore, the author of Voices, has captured and shared many real-life scenarios of young people she has had the pleasure of teaching over the years. Teenage pregnancy, homelessness, grief resulting from the death of loved ones, identity confusion, and depression and despair have all impacted the lives of children and youth across our great country.

By recognizing the status of far too many of our youth, each of us needs to commit to charting a course that will lead to a better life and brighter future for these youth and their families.

Lyndal M. Bullock

Regents Professor, Educational Psychology

University of North Texas

Preface

Nelson Mandela once noted that no one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.¹ Unfortunately, some people must be taught to love individuals with disabilities. Regardless of whether it is innate or learned, we must embrace children with disabilities as they are. We must do whatever it takes to ensure they receive an adequate and appropriate education with essential services and support. Most importantly, we must unlearn negative stereotypes and beliefs that have for so long impeded their progress. For the illiterate of the 21st century will not be those who cannot read and write, but those who cannot learn, unlearn, and relearn.²

I am passionate about the education of students with disabilities. In short stories, I have described my experiences teaching teenagers with disabilities. Included is a chapter that details my interactions with parents of my students, some positive and some not-so-positive. The final chapter provides a glimpse into several issues that impact the education and the lives of students with disabilities – special education, teen pregnancy, homelessness, poverty, cultural and linguistic diversity, mental illness and suicide, drug and alcohol abuse, bullying (a subset of aggression), dropout, and parental involvement. It is my hope that the stories and/or information presented in these chapters will provide some insights into the lives and needs of real children with disabilities in real classrooms for pre-service teachers, teacher preparation programs, school districts, school administrators, and practicing teachers. Note that pseudonyms have been used to protect the identities of the characters.

Certainly, we can make infinite improvements in the education of children with disabilities. I envision a day when all children with disabilities, like Helen Keller, will experience success:

Have you ever been at sea in a dense fog, when it seemed as if a tangible white darkness shut you in and the great ship, tense and anxious, groped her way toward the shore with plummet and sounding-line, and you waited with beating heart for something to happen? I was like that ship before my education began, only I was without compass or sounding line, and no way of knowing how near the harbor was. ‘Light! Give me light!’ was the wordless cry of my soul, and the light of love shone on me in that very hour.³

I strongly believe, however, that this will only be realized if all stakeholders rally together with a common goal: to improve the education and social outcomes of children with disabilities. I hope that, you, the reader, will find these stories useful in whatever role you play - policy making, school administration, educator preparation, classroom teacher, diagnostician, psychologist, related services provider, parent/guardian, to mention just a few. After all, what we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal⁴. Together, we can make a difference in the lives of these already left-behind children.

Acknowledgements

I am indebted to several individuals for their unwavering support, steadfast encouragement, and tireless dedication throughout the course of writing this book:

Dr. Beatrice Adera, Florence Bore,

Dr. Sam Bore, Tanya Bore,

Dr. Lyndal M. Bullock, Ladonna Chism,

Patricia Johnson, Jacqueline Korir,

Janet Korir, Nelly Onguka,

Rani Onyango, Dr. Kipng’eno Rugutt,

Jessie Sainah, and Joseph Sainah.

Introduction

The school, located in a populous metropolitan city, was extremely large. While most of the students were either Hispanic or African American, children from other races were relatively few. I was one of the special education teachers. My students were diverse in terms of ethnicity, nationality, language, social economic status, culture, and ability. They had learning disabilities, emotional/behavioral disorders, mental retardation/intellectual disabilities, traumatic brain injury, autism, other health impairments (e.g., sickle cell anemia, diabetes, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, etc.) to name just a few. Some students had been abused physically, sexually, and/or emotionally; others were homeless, extremely poor, and/or lived in foster homes, State facilities, or at psychiatric hospitals. Another group was actively involved with crime, drugs and alcohol. Fortunately, a few students were privileged to live in homes where love and care were provided.

As depicted in some stories, many parents supported the teachers and cared about the progress of their children. Others seemed genuinely concerned, but lacked the time, resources, or the understanding of how to be of assistance. Some chose not to be involved either because of their inability to communicate effectively in English or their fear of the system, since they were illegal immigrants. Sadly, while others did not want to be bothered, another group of parents had been in the jail system for as long as their children could remember. Worse still, while some children did not know their fathers, the whereabouts of a number of mothers was a mystery.

Put all these together and you may understand the setting in which all the stories occurred. In the pages of this book, you will meet real children with real needs. You will hear their voices, and if you look beyond, you will see their faces; faces with teary eyes crying out for help. You will meet parents and read their perspectives; their wishes and desires; their frustrations and disappointments. Hopefully, you might begin to appreciate their struggles and challenges; their pain and heartaches; their joys and thrills. As you read on, you will encounter children with disabilities who warmed my heart every single day and those who matriculated into institutions of higher education in pursuit of further education. I’m optimistic that as you complete this book, you will agree with the Late John F. Kennedy that a child miseducated is a child lost⁵.

Chapter 1

Girl Mothers

What troubles me is when another girl finds out that I have a daughter and she says that is so neat. A car is neat, an outfit is neat, a baby is not. They take a lot of time and work. When you become a mom, you become responsible (physically, emotionally, and financially) for a child for

the rest of your life. There are no weekends or summer vacations, the child will always be there. And no matter

how good your relationship was before you became pregnant, the father will most likely have gone on his merry way.

If I had been better informed, I would have never

had sex in the first place, let alone a child.⁶

The National Campaign to Prevent Teen Pregnancy

Pregnant Again!

Jessica, a fourteen year-old ninth grader, had significant learning disabilities and experienced severe difficulties in math and reading. While she was very pleasant on most days, on others she seemed preoccupied with thoughts that, despite much encouragement from most of her teachers, she never discussed with her counselor.

Jessica’s instruction was conducted in both special and general education classrooms. Midway through the year, her preoccupation with peers of the opposite gender was obvious. She frequently came to class late and would lash out when asked where she had been. On some occasions, she would not show up to class at all. I discussed this with her English teacher, Ms. Jones, and discovered that Jessica was exhibiting the same behaviors in all her classes such that her academic performance had been negatively impacted. Consequently, a conference with her mother was scheduled.

During the conference, her mother fervently denied that Jessica was unusually close to certain male students. Because we suspected that Jessica was sexually-active, we suggested to her that she discuss this further with her daughter. Much to our amazement, she discouraged us from ever discussing these suspicions with her, claiming that her daughter did not engage in such behaviors.

Observing Jessica about two months later, it was obvious that she had gained some weight. One day after class, she stayed back as her peers exited the room.

Miss K., she said shyly. I have something to tell you. I am pregnant.

While it came as no surprise whatsoever, the confirmation of my fears was quite hard to bear. I felt sorry for Jessica. Being very tiny in stature, I wondered how she would carry the pregnancy to term. Then I thought about the baby and doubted whether she would be able to care for a little infant. Moreover, she was far more immature than so many girls of her age.

Have you told your mother? I asked.

Yes, she replied. At first she was furious, but then she calmed down. Now she is mad at herself. She told me not to tell anybody since she thinks you will blame her for not teaching me about sex and for not listening to you all.

We had a lengthy discussion about how she felt. Surprisingly, she was proud of the pregnancy. I have always wanted to have a baby and now I will have my own, she smiled as she gently rubbed her tummy.

I was dismayed that a girl that young would be proud of becoming a mother! Something is wrong somewhere. Where have we gone wrong? What can we do to help our girls?

Some time later, Jessica was assigned to in-school-suspension following repeated acts of non-compliance and use of profanity. While there, Ms. Jones delivered assignments to her and noticed that Jessica was unusually miserable.

What’s the matter, Jessica? she inquired.

Jessica suddenly burst into tears and cried hysterically. Last night I was with my boyfriend again, although my mother had warned me against seeing him. I promised her that I would not; now I am pregnant again!

She was so naïve that she thought she could conceive while already pregnant.

He Hit Me

Michelle was a beautiful ninth-grader of Hispanic descent. She had long hair and a positive spirit that endeared her to her peers, especially the boys. She had two siblings. Sometimes Michelle was extremely rude, carefree, and would make no attempt to do any academic work. During those times, she enjoyed the attention she received from her peers, which reinforced her negative behavior. Other times, though, she was respectful, cheerful, and completed all her assignments diligently.

In the tenth grade, Michelle was in a general education math classroom. Consequently, except for the few occasions when she came by my classroom, our meetings were quite infrequent. Toward the middle of the year, she was consistently absent from or tardy to class, resulting in her grades plummeting.

Alexandro was a soft-spoken, eleventh grader. One day at the beginning of class, we conversed casually.

Miss K., did you know that Michelle and I are together?

Yes, I replied.

How did you know? he asked surprised.

Oh, I have known it for a while. Michelle told me.

Okay. I just wanted you to know, he murmured, a slight grin crossing his face.

A few months later, on my way to the lunchroom, I encountered Alexandro and Michelle.

Hi, Michelle. Are you okay?

She stared at me, obviously deeply troubled. No, she sputtered. Hastily, she turned toward the wall, so I went around and faced her.

What’s the problem? I inquired and then paused momentarily. Can you talk about it now? Alexandro walked away and, noticing that he had slipped away, tears began to flow freely down her cheeks.

Miss, she gathered her will finally. Look at me. I am pregnant because of him and I am scared, she blurted, her voice wilting into a sob.

Are you sure? I asked, my heart aching for her.

Yes. I must be pregnant, she responded tearfully. He convinced me to sleep with him a few months ago.

Have you seen a doctor?

She looked at me again in desperation, with a you-don’t-understand look.

No.

Have you missed your period?

Yes, for two months now. Poor girl, I thought, realizing that she was right.

Have you discussed this with your mother?

"I’m scared. I cannot tell her. She will be very