Monday, June 18, 2012

attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder ... A Teacher's Perspective

###attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder ... A Teacher's Perspective###

Adhd, or attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, is a label given to children and adults who suffer from inattention, impulsivity, hyperactivity and boredom. Adhd is one of the most base thinking disorders among children. The National build of thinking health reports that three to five percent of all children — possibly as many as two million American children — are diagnosed with Adhd, an midpoint of at least one child in every classroom in the United States.

Veterans Medical Benefits

The Itch

Garrulous students busy my sixth grade classroom after lunch, a few easily seated for class, many clustered with friends in small groups, and some strolling unhurried into the classroom. I stood before my class and raised my hand, feeling a moment of pleasure as murmurs dwindled slowly. I took a deep breath, establishment for ninety minutes of geometry.

Twenty-eight students sat quietly, their eyes focused on me. Melissa, however, was not in her seat. I felt well-known disappointment rise toward the child. She was weaving her way nearby desks, passing most of the students in her less than direct path toward me. Students began whispering among themselves. It would be difficult to gather their attention. Before I could admonish Melissa for interrupting, she handed me an envelope, “Mom said to give you this.”

My heart beat faster as I felt my face flush. Even after fourteen years in the classroom, I felt the momentary panic a note from any parent all the time caused. I mentally reviewed the last some days. What had I done that upset her mom? Melissa was happy in school, an A student, energetic and bright, but impulsive. She loved math so much she often blurted the acknowledge before the rest of the class had even started the problem.

I sighed as I opened the envelope in front of the class. Bad protocol, but past taste had taught me it was best to acknowledge speedily to parents. The envelope contained a card with a handwritten message inside. The class became a roar of talking, laughing and whispering voices as with a pounding heart I read,

“Please accept this small token of my deep appreciation in regards to the pleasant phone call I received about my daughter, Melissa Smith. It was truly a nice surprise (as well as a shock) to have a instructor call and praise a child about her good grades rather than calling about a discipline problem. I can easily say that I have never had a instructor call me to tell me what a good job Melissa was doing in class. Ms. Allen, you made my day. Melissa is lucky to have been in your class! Thank you for having such a confident impact on my daughter and much prolonged success to you!

Sincerely,

Amy Smith.”

Tears wet my eyes. I turned my back to the class and faced the board. I allowed myself the luxury of reading the card again. Melissa would continue to be a piquant child in any teacher’s classroom. But she, and equally as important, her peers would learn.

Several things I did were unorthodox. I “wasted” instructional time calling Melissa’s mother while class, and even worse, I discussed a child’s enlarge in front of other students. To both, I plead guilty. If an administrator had walked into my classroom while my back was turned, while my students were off task and talking, I most easily would have faced a reprimand and a letter would have been put in my file.

During the years I spent in the classroom I have watched students like Melissa learn -- and yes, I sometimes met failure with students who didn’t succeed. On those occasions I did not think myself a failure, although many in my profession would. The needs of some children were beyond those that could be met in my classroom.

The Tasmanian Devil

Three tell problems written on the overhead projector welcomed students as they entered the classroom. Students were required to sit quietly and copy and acknowledge the problems. It was a needful “warm-up” routine designed to engage their sixth-grade minds in “school mode.” In an exclusive front row seat, sat Richard Hunt, also known as the “Tasmanian Devil.” His desktop contained one sneaker, one shoelace and one pencil. Richard was intensely concentrating on inserting the shoelace back into the eyelets of his sneaker. No textbook, paper or any other implement of studying cluttered his otherwise empty desktop.

I handed him a copy of the overhead tell questions. “Start your warm-up, Richard,” I whispered. He didn’t acknowledge my presence. I took the sneaker, rather forcefully because he didn’t want to let go. “I’ll lace your shoe; you do your warm-up.” Richard looked unsure. His eyes remained on the sneaker in my hands while the class fulfilled, their warm-up, his questions left blank on the paper I’d given him.

I taught the math lesson; then students worked in small groups practicing some problems. After a few minutes, lined paper littered the floor in a large circle nearby Richard’s team. Each sheet of paper was filled with big black numbers. Richard, his lips puckered in concentration, wrote with one of my blackboard markers. He stopped, sniffed the ticket and stared at it, fascinated. “No, that’s wrong, Richard,” his teammate Alex said. Richard angrily threw the paper to the growing pile on the floor enveloping his team and pulled a new sheet of notebook paper from his binder.

“Richard, where is your pencil?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I lost it,” Richard replied, shrugging. I stared at the child, then at his floor and desktop. The pencil was nowhere in sight, but it could be under any one of the twenty or thirty sheets of paper on the floor. I sighed, gave him someone else pencil and removed the ticket before he could come to be high from snuffing.

“Would you all please help Richard clean up these papers before you acknowledge any more questions?”

“Yes, Ms. Allen,” students chorused.

The “Tasmanian devil” that was Richard Hunt sat in the front. He required preferential seating. Even so, a small hurricane commonly ensued from in his normal direction before the end of class. It began with a murmur of talking. Then spitballs, staples or any whole of projectiles would fly straight through the air.

I was required to give Richard copies of my overhead notes. He couldn’t copy data from the board. His writing capability was on sixth-grade level, his reading slightly below that. capability wasn’t the problem. He was just so fascinated by the sound the overhead projector made or the small rainbow of light it reflected onto the ceiling that he couldn’t merge long sufficient to copy information. He drew pictures on his paper, fascinated by their shapes. He could spend an entire ninety-minute class on one detailed drawing. I understanding he showed exceptional capability in art, although his art instructor didn’t think so. Richard painted his pencils with revising fluid, and then scraped it off, leaving tiny white shavings exterior his desk and the floor. He snuffed the fluid and the shavings.

Richard played with anyone on his or his neighbor’s desk. Because he never remembered his own supplies, or he lost them while class, he stole supplies from his neighbor, commonly causing a disagreement. I often had to turn the seating of students sitting next to him due to complaints from students and parents. I gave Richard two textbooks so he could keep one textbook at home and one in his locker. Still the textbook was an enigma that somehow never made it to class.

Richard kept an assignment book where he recorded his homework assignments. I initialed it before her left my class each day. At the group home where Richard lived, he earned privileges based on completion of the homework assignments written in his assignment book. Still, I rarely saw his homework. It was lost in transition.

He had lived in the group home since first grade. That year he was in a car crisis that killed both of his parents. When Richard began having behavior problems in his new home and in school, the school psychologist, in cooperation with the school resource teacher, administered a series of tests that revealed he had a health known as attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, or Adhd.

Richard is a trainee with a disability, also known as an exceptional child (Ec). The Individuals with Disabilities schooling Act (Idea), a federal law reauthorized in 1997, guarantees children with disabilities a “free acceptable public education” in the least restrictive environment (Lre). Children with disabilities must be educated with children without disabilities, to the maximum extent possible. So, the least restrictive environment is typically the regular classroom.

Children with disabilities may be removed from the regular educational environment only when the disability is so severe that schooling in regular classes is not possible. It was inherent (if not ideal) to educate Richard Hunt in the regular classroom. Toward that end, Richard’s teachers, the school psychologist, and the assistant needful wrote an personel schooling Plan, or Iep, for him. Richard’s Iep gave him modifications to help him in school. These included extended time on tests, testing in a cut off room, having tests read orally to him, study guides, preferential seating away from distractions, and copies of the teacher’s notes.

Adhd is one of the most base thinking disorders among children Richard’s age. The National build of thinking health (Nimh), states that 3 to 5 percent of all children — possibly as many as two million American children — have been diagnosed with Adhd. On the average, at least one child in every classroom in the United States is diagnosed with the disorder, boys two or three times more often than girls.

Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder is perplexing because it is not one particular thinking disorder, but rather it is a group of symptoms, or behaviors, that fall under the analysis of Adhd. Any one of three groups of behaviors: hyperactivity, impulsivity and inattention, or any composition of the three, lead to the classification Adhd. Richard was inattentive and hyperactive. His attention was focused on insignificant things in his environment, such as his shoelaces and the smell of the ticket he was using. He was unaware of the important event in his environment, the math concepts. He moved nearby constantly, touched his neighbors and anyone nearby him.

The Diagnostic and Statistical by hand of thinking Disorders, or Dsm, is a checklist of behaviors used to classify a child with Adhd. agreeing to the Dsm, inattention means a child is so distracted by irrelevant sights and sounds that he fails to pay attention to details and makes careless mistakes. He has difficulty following instructions without being redirected. He loses or forgets tools needed for a task, like textbooks, homework, toys, or pencils. agreeing to the Dsm, some signs of hyperactivity and impulsivity are fidgeting, squirming, running, difficulty waiting in line or for a turn and restlessness. The trainee leaves his seat or blurts out answers while a classroom setting (like Melissa). He answers questions before hearing the whole question.

This could be because children with Adhd have a lower level of action in the part of the brain that inhibits impulses. Scientists at Nimh used positron emission tomography, or a brain scan, to look at brains of people with Adhd and those without. Tests showed that the brains of people with Adhd were less active in the area that inhibits impulses, proving that there is a corporeal health behind the behaviors classified as Adhd.

Supporting this, Adhd seems to be genetically inherited. Children with Adhd commonly have at least one close relative with the disorder. One-third of all fathers who had Adhd will pass it on to their children. The “dopamine hypothesis” is commonly acceptable as the cause of Adhd, which postulates that Adhd is due to insufficient availability of the neurotransmitter dopamine in the central nervous system. Dopamine is responsible for alertness, motivation, deliberate movements, appetite operate and sleep.

The Surgeon General’s report in 1999 proposed a dopamine-transporter gene on chromosome 5, and a dopamine-receptor gene on chromosome 11 as inherent sources of genetic variation. Severe Adhd may be caused by abnormalities in the dopamine-transporter gene (Dat1).

Stimulants growth the availability of dopamine, controlling the symptoms of Adhd. Stimulants given to growth dopamine availability include methylphenidate (Ritalin, Metadate, and Concerta). Ritalin is the most widely known form of methylphenidate, a central nervous ideas stimulant. In normal adults it effects are more potent that caffeine and less potent than amphetamines. In children with Adhd it has a calming, focusing effect. Other stimulants used to treat Adhd are amphetamine (Adderall), dextroamphetamine (Dexedrine, Dextrostat), and pemoline (Cylert). Some children who do not acknowledge to stimulants are given antidepressants such as bupropion (Wellbutrin).

Side effects of such stimulants are reduced appetite, insomnia and, less frequently, liver damage. On a cautionary note, stimulants do not have Food and Drug supervision (Fda) approval for use in children. A doctor treating a young child with Adhd may prescribe a medication that has been beloved by the Fda for use in adults or older children. This is called "off-label" prescription. Even though the Fda approves a stimulant for a defined people (adults), after that drug is beloved and on the market, any doctor may prescribe the drug to any patient, together with children. The sponsor, however, is allowed to market the drug only for the beloved population. This is why most drugs used to treat thinking disorders in children are dispensed with this warning: "Safety and efficacy have not been established in pediatric patients." A doctor who prescribes an “off-label” drug for a child does so without the advantage of any explore on safety and dosages in children.

While researchers study the genetic roots of Adhd, environmental and nongenetic factors are equally compelling. Hyperactivity and inattention assess easily in children whose mothers smoked or used alcohol or other drugs while pregnancy. Alcohol and nicotine in cigarettes may damage developing nerve cells in fetuses. Fetal alcohol syndrome (Fas), caused by the mother’s heavy alcohol consumption while pregnancy, is a health important to behaviors similar to those of Adhd. Fas can also cause intellectual impairment, low birth weight and corporeal abnormalities in increasing to Adhd-like symptoms.

Cocaine — together with crack, the smokable form — when used by a pregnant woman, seems to interfere with the formation of brain receptors in the fetus. In such children incoming signals from the senses (eyes, ears, and skin) are not transmitted to the brain, so the child seems unaware of his surroundings. These children often display Adhd symptoms.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Taylor Reed transferred into my school district a few weeks into sixth grade. After attending our school about a month, Taylor was put into my first period science class and my third period math class. His math teacher, a veteran instructor of twenty years, threatened to quit if Taylor wasn’t removed from his class. This was Taylor’s second try at sixth grade. The former year he had scored only the 3rd percentile on his End of Grade math test. He had attended summer school, but had been absent too often to be promoted. Because Taylor’s achievement in math, reading and writing were all below his capability level, he was thought about studying disabled (Ld) in all three areas. Due to his disabilities he was protected by the Idea, or Individuals with Disabilities schooling Act, which allowed him modifications in the regular classroom.

In addition, his pediatrician prescribed Ritalin for him to treat Adhd symptoms. But, he did not take his Ritalin most days; instead, he sold it. About a week after being placed on my team, Taylor was busted for selling marijuana to an eighth grade trainee at school and was suspended for ten days.

By the time I had a opportunity to work with Taylor it was three months into the school year. He was a high-achieving trainee while science. He couldn’t read the science textbook, but would listen when partnered with someone else trainee who read to him. He answered all the science questions thought about in neat, gorgeous handwriting. He loved science experiments, hands-on activities and science class. I rarely had to redirect him. He was a model trainee who did well and was rarely absent.

In contrast, however, Taylor attended my third period math class only about three days out of five. The remaining two days he was whether suspended and sent home for the rest of the day or on in-school suspension, or Iss. This was in general because he didn’t like math, and with good reason. He didn’t know even elementary level math concepts.

The first day in my math class he said, “I am not going to do that f*cking work. It is too hard. You need to learn to f*cking teach.” His disrespectful rehabilitation toward me would have cost me the other students’ success, so I had no choice but to send him to the office. The rest of the days followed a disturbingly similar pattern. As soon as he entered the classroom for math, he immediately created a disagreement with a fellow classmate or myself. One day he made the mistake of calling Jamal a “crack head.” Jamal punched him, and then Taylor threw a desk at Jamal. I had to call our safety guard, the needful or both to remove Taylor from my class on more than one occasion.

Taylor never brought his textbook, paper or pencil to math class in the afternoon, although he brought all three to science in the morning. Taylor was truly a Jekyll and Hyde. He was a dedicated trainee while science who changed into an unrecognizable monster, Mr. Hyde, while math class in the afternoon. There were two reasons: First, Taylor didn’t like math. Second, he took a 24-hour dose of Ritalin in the morning. But, the timed-release dose didn’t seem to work properly because his impulsivity became more pronounced while the afternoon.

My goal after Taylor joined my team was plainly to get straight through math class each day without corporeal violence erupting in my classroom or students getting hurt. I had given up on teaching anyone math. But somehow, without any prompting from me, and against the preferential seating modification written into his personel schooling Plan, Taylor started sitting in a desk at the back of the room while math. eventually he moved to a table at the back of the room and then started sitting under the table on the floor. He said he didn’t like the front of the room. The lights hurt his eyes.

I breathed a sigh of relief. He was quiet. I could teach the others. At first I ignored him there, didn’t ask him to partake and just ignored him, crossing my fingers that I would not have to call the deputy that class.

One day I gave Taylor an old third grade math workbook. I told him I needed the answers filled in to use for my next class and asked if he’d start a few for me so I could see how hard they were. By the end of class he had done five problems. So from then on, before I gave the rest of the class their assignment I got Taylor started on his “own” math problems. At first his goal was to work for five minutes alone. I gently increased his goal by a few minutes every merge of weeks. By the end of the year Taylor could make it straight through forty minutes working at the third grade level. He all the time took a ten or fifteen puny break to walk nearby the classroom, get water and move nearby my personal papers on my desk.

Class was ninety minutes long, so even with Taylor’s improvement, he was still on task for less than one half of the class period. After he fulfilled, his math problems Taylor played diamond on the computer or organized science tool for the next day. He counted test tubes and labeled my shelves in the science tool room. He stapled worksheets. He sorted my files. He ran errands. I kept him very busy.

Even so, by school standards, Taylor was not flourishing in my classroom. At the end of sixth grade he again scored in the 3rd percentile on his end of year math test. He retested at only the 2nd percentile. But, Taylor did not go to summer school. Instead, due to his many discipline referrals and lack of enlarge that year, the Committee on extra schooling placed him in a more restrictive environment for the seventh grade. Taylor would be in the Behaviorally Educably Handicapped class which consisted of twelve students, one instructor and one instructor assistant. He would finally receive the help he so badly needed. But help came too late for Taylor.

Taylor would be fifteen before Christmas his seventh grade year, and sixteen midway into his eighth grade year. He was a prime candidate to drop out at sixteen, without even an eighth grade education. In fact, Taylor missed forty-nine days of school in seventh grade, scoring in the fifth percentile on his math Eog test. His retest was even lower, in the first percentile. Due to his Adhd and studying disability in math, Taylor was promoted to the eighth grade. He was not required to go to summer school. He told his seventh grade instructor that he hated math and had a thinking block against it. He felt like he didn’t fit in at school.

Taylor sees a probation officer now and has tested easily for marijuana on a routine drug test. He is scheduled to go to court for selling marijuana. He’s had some problems with the law. If he isn’t sent to teenage detention he will go to Wilderness Camp, a home for troubled kids.

What turned Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde?

How could this happen? Melissa, Richard and Taylor all suffer from the same disorder, Adhd. All three take medication for their disorder. Melissa is a strong A student, who frustrates her teachers, but her behaviors are controlled. Richard is a “Tasmanian Devil,” who is hard to administrate but will learn in the regular classroom — with modifications of course. He will probably not earn A’s or make the honor roll, but he will learn. In contrast, Taylor is truly “Mr. Hyde.” He has not been flourishing whether in the regular schooling environment or in the more restrictive environment of the behaviorally educably handicapped classroom. He is in issue with the law and a prime candidate to drop out without even the skills needful to achieve the most menial jobs in society.

What is the difference? The acknowledge is chance. Melissa was fortunate. She had a caring mother who monitored her enlarge intimately and worked with her doctors and the school ideas from the time she was diagnosed in kindergarten. Richard was also lucky, although some might argue that to lose both parents tragically is not luck. But with that loss, Richard was protected by the child welfare system. When he began having difficulty at school something was done for him immediately. Richard was put on Ritalin and prolonged to be monitored closely, both by the school ideas and his caretakers. He will most likely close high school and may go on to college.

Taylor’s story, unfortunately, is not uncommon. Unlike Melissa and Richard he was likely born with damaged receptors for sensory input so base in “crack babies.” He was shuffled from family member to family member because none of them could administrate the behaviors his disability caused. It wasn’t until his second try at sixth grade that he came to live with his grandmother. She forced him to take his medication at home and tried to work with the school, but Taylor’s behaviors were already learned.

Why didn’t his teachers help him? Taylor spent so puny time at one school that his teachers didn’t know him. He should have been placed in a more restricted environment soon after kindergarten. But, it takes some months, sometimes a whole school year, to get a trainee placed in a more restrictive environment. There are no short cuts in a ideas that attempts to protect children. Even when glaring signs of issue in school and with the law were evident, Taylor still floundered in the regular educational ideas until age fifteen. Taylor didn’t have someone to advocate for him.

There are few clinical psychiatrists trained to diagnose and treat thinking disorders in children. School counselors, pediatricians, and family physicians step up to the plate out of necessity. These pinch hitters do not have the specialized training of a clinical psychologist or the time needful to do a corollary up appraisal requiring some hours. Children suffering from Adhd symptoms are medicated with no additional treatment.

Many educators believe that Adhd is over diagnosed and overmedicated. They feel that Adhd is the corollary of bad teaching, bad parenting, and willful disobedience by children. On the contrary, Adhd is a real neurological disorder that must be treated as such. agreeing to Harvard healing School, attention Deficit Disorder is caused by insufficient availability of the neurotransmitter norepinephrine in the central nervous system. Stimulant medications, such as Ritalin, can growth the levels of norepinephrine and help ease the symptoms of inattention, boredom and impulsiveness.

Adhd may be caused by underdeveloped connections in the brain related to the whole and size of brain cells and the whole of connections between them. If the brain lacks the neurons to process incoming data it will process some, but the rest will be lost, like a computer unable to run software due to lack of ready memory. Some programs may run, but they must be shut down before running others or the ideas will overload and the computer will freeze. An Adhd student’s mind becomes overloaded with information, and the trainee becomes distracted.

Teachers and parents of children with Adhd work miracles every day in the least restrictive environment and in the home. Pediatricians and physicians do the only thing they can do: prescribe medication. public workers, psychologists and psychiatrists that work with children are underpaid and overworked. The government and child welfare protect our children while scientists continue working to find a “cure” for this perplexing disorder called Adhd.

Note: Although Melissa, Richard and Taylor are representative of typical students, they do not exist.

References

Adhd.com, the online society (2004). http://www.adhd.com/index.html

Buresz, Allen Md. Natural health and Longevity resource Center. attention Deficit Disorder & Hyperactivity Success. Retrieved July 5, 2003 from http://www.all-natural.com/add.html

Least Restrictive Environment Coalition. (1999-2001). Laws on Lre. Retrieved July 5, 2003, from [http://www.lrecoalition.org/02_lawsOnLre/#3]

National build on Drug Abuse. (June 25, 2003). Methylphenidate (Ritalin). Retrieved July 5, 2003, from http://www.nida.nih.gov/Infofax/ritalin.html

National build of thinking Health. (September 30, 2004). attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder [http://www.nimh.nih.gov/publicat/adhd.cfm#intro]

The Adhd data Library. (2003) Retrieved October 5, 2004 from http://www.newideas.net

U.S. Branch of health and Human Services (1999), thinking Health: A report of the Surgeon General. Rockville, Md. Http://www.surgeongeneral.gov/library/mentalhealth/home.html

attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder ... A Teacher's Perspective


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