INSPIRED TEACHER

INSPIRED TEACHER

Future Reflections Fall 1992, Vol. 11 No. 4
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INSPIRED

TEACHER

Editor's

Note: The following article is by Barbara Carmen, and is reprinted from

the Columbus, Ohio, Dispatch newspaper. The original title is "Inspired

teacher bringing light into dark world of her students."
A morning

rain pelts against the windows in a classroom on Columbus's East Side where

teacher Ellen Perry works to put the world at the fingertips of children.
Her tiny

students cannot see her clearly. Some are blind; other see only fuzzy shapes,

but they hear the singsong of her voice, prodding and praising. They study from

Perry's homemade books—books that are drawing a march of teachers to her

room at Leawood Elementary, 1677 South Hamilton Road.
The Columbus

Public Schools' program is Ohio's only preschool devoted to children with serious

vision problems. Teachers come from as far away as Great Britain to learn Perry's

methods.
"My

challenge is to get every child ready for school," said Perry, a teacher

for 25 years. "Right now, I have a child who is 4 and isn't toilet trained."
Some of

Perry's 13 students come from other central Ohio school districts. Most districts

do not provide early starts for children with serious vision problems. That

is about to change. This fall, the federal government is requiring school systems

to provide preschool for all handicapped children starting at age 3.
Word is

spreading that Perry's methods are the way to go. Most of her techniques don't

come from an ivory tower. They begin in her basement. She has a room at home

lined with boxes of tiny toys and everyday items she uses to illustrate her

books. One book describes paper. Each sheet is different: newspaper, wax paper,

corrugated paper, flocked wall paper, crepe paper.
Another

volume teaches the concept of long and short: a long stick next to a short stick,

a tall pipe cleaner stick figure beside a short one. She has made another book

crammed with doll boots, children's sunglasses, and socks. That lesson is pairs.
"Sighted

children can see so much in a picture or on TV and learn, but a vision-impaired

child has to feel a toy train and put people inside it to understand,"

Perry said.
Even her

classroom is designed to made her children feel good. Bulletin boards are covered

with fuzzy lambs with yarn noses and button eyes. The children's artwork has

sand in the paint, and clay items are sculpted using doll-shaped cookie cutters.

Clay hair is made through a garlic press.
Perry's

ideas spring from experience. Her late husband, a diabetic, awakened one morning

blind in one eye. He quickly began losing his vision in the other. That inspired

Perry, a high school vocal music teacher, to switch her sights.
"I

thought that I would have an empathy, and I do," she said. "I understand

when a child comes in and he's 3 years old, and he can't get his coat off by

himself. I understand."
"Many

times when you're in a hurry, you don't have time to coax and cajole."
Perry works

with the parents as well as the child, said Cheryl Boley, a consultant for the

visually handicapped with the special education department of Columbus schools.

"She keeps data on all her students—keeping track of them through

18 years," Boley said. "She's just a wonderfully devoted and creative

teacher."
One day

last week, two girls sprawled on a canary yellow carpet, piling blocks atop

Doc the dwarf and Pinocchio. Melody Holloway, 5, sat near Perry and played "the

spool game," matching textures of covered spools and giggling.
Perry picked

up several stories Melody wrote on the classroom computer. She reads them with

pride. "I've laughed and cried a lot over the years," Perry said.

"Most of the times I've cried, though, it's been from a child's accomplishing

something."
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