It’s the start of the school year and my first month as an ISSP teacher. The learning curve is steep. Every day feels like a crash course—deciphering acronyms, understanding systems, getting acquainted with new resource staff, front-loading Individual Education Plans (IEPs), coordinating schedules, and supporting our youngest, newest learners in their transition to school.
By 8:00 a.m., I’m already in the school, sorting through my to-do list. First on the agenda: tackling Individual Education Plans. Going into this role, I knew how to write my own IEPs. However, supporting other educators with the variety of IEPs in the building, I quickly learned that it was going to be a whole new level of complexity. Each student’s needs are unique, and collaborating with multiple teachers to ensure accommodations and modifications align with their teaching practices requires both patience and understanding. It wasn’t just about the paperwork—it was about truly understanding each student’s profile and finding ways to bridge gaps between the curriculum and their learning needs.
Writing IEPs is both an art and a science. Balancing academic and alternative goals with accommodations and modifications requires careful thought and precision. These documents are living roadmaps for success, but they don’t happen in isolation. I’ll spend much of the next few weeks sending surveys and meeting with parents, students, and other educators to ensure every voice is heard and every need is addressed.
In my experience, one of the most challenging yet rewarding parts of this role is presenting at Student Resource Meetings (SRMs). These meetings focus on discussing support plans for students, and they’re both exciting and nerve-wracking. It’s not just about presenting data; it’s about advocating for my students and ensuring their needs are prioritized. Today, I’m preparing for two SRMs scheduled for the following week. The next few days will be spent making parent phone calls to invite them to attend and inputting referrals into our system. The stack of documents beside me includes work samples, assessment data, and notes on strategies that have shown success so far. Preparation is key, as having all documentation ready can make these meetings smoother and more effective.
By mid-morning, I’m in classrooms supporting small groups. Establishing a consistent routine has been a game-changer. My students now look forward to our time together, which creates a sense of stability for them—and for me. The students I work with benefit from a combination of life skills development, as well as targeted reading and writing support. Activities like folding towels, matching socks, opening and closing containers, and sorting and washing dishes build functional independence. In reading and writing groups, we strike a balance between supporting classroom assignments and using an intensive reading program to foster growth.
By lunchtime, I continue to field teacher questions, solve a handful of small incidents, and celebrate a few little victories. One student mastered a new skill, another used a calming strategy independently, and a third opened up about their challenges. These moments are the heart of my work. They remind me why I’m here—even when the paperwork feels overwhelming.
The afternoon is a blend of small group instruction, one-on-one support, and consultations with colleagues. Collaboration is the cornerstone of this role. I work closely with classroom teachers, educational assistants, and specialists to ensure we’re all aligned in our approach. It’s truly a team effort, and while the pace can be demanding, the shared sense of purpose keeps us motivated. Together, we weave a web of support that empowers students to thrive.
As the day winds down, I’m back at my desk, reflecting on what went well and what could be improved. The to-do list for tomorrow is already forming in my mind: editing IEP drafts, following up with a parent, and preparing materials for a new intervention group. The work never truly ends, but I’ve learned that balance is critical. Self-care isn’t optional in this role; it’s essential. Whether it’s a walk after school, a moment of mindfulness, or simply shutting off my laptop by 4:00 p.m., I make time to recharge.
Being an ISSP teacher isn’t easy, especially at the start of the year. The systems, acronyms, and sheer volume of responsibilities can feel overwhelming. But it’s also deeply fulfilling. Every day, I’m reminded of the incredible resilience and potential of my students. They teach me as much as I teach them. Together, we navigate the challenges and celebrate the successes. It’s a journey, and while the road is bumpy, it’s one I’m grateful to be travelling.
ETFO’s Special Education Needs in the Regular Classroom: Supporting Students with Autism Spectrum Disorder is a useful resource for educators. It covers topics, including autism spectrum disorder, and offers information, access points, and guiding questions to help teachers implement effective pedagogy.
For ETFO members, the handbook is available for free digitally on the member site. However, it is also accessible to the public in print through the ETFO website. Check it out here: Special Education Needs In The Regular Classroom: Supporting Students With Autism Spectrum Disorder.