Paperwork doesn’t change lives. People do.
As a special education teacher, I entered this profession with a heart full of purpose: to make a difference for students who often go unheard, overlooked, or underestimated. Every day, I see the light in my students’ eyes when they make progress that others said was impossible. I witness resilience, growth, humor, and brilliance in forms that don’t always fit inside a box. These moments are what drive me. But lately, my days have become a tug-of-war between two equally important missions—supporting my students and meeting the ever-growing demands of compliance and paperwork. I understand the value of documentation. I know IEPs are legal tools that protect students’ rights and ensure their needs are met. But I also know this: When I’m in front of a computer, I’m not in front of a student. Every hour spent tracking data, chasing signatures, or deciphering ever-shifting guidelines is an hour I’m not connecting, teaching, modeling, or comforting. I shouldn’t have to choose between compli...
Love love love this, Cassie! Thank you for your vulnerability and for the throwbacks (:
ReplyDelete“ I didn’t listen to much music at this time, and the songs that are on my playlists I don’t remember putting there.”
ReplyDeleteAs someone who has categorized my life in songs as well, the memories that are silent haunt me the most. Like my brain was too focused on survival to hear the background music. I felt the heaviness in my heart with this line.”
the format, the pictures, the personal, vulnerable, raw narrative weaved into songs we can all hear in our heads. obsessed with everything about this.
ReplyDelete