Illness no excuse in these classes

Press, 2 July 1983, Page 17

Illness no excuse in these classes

Since 1919, education boards have been required to provide classes for children up to the age of 15 who have to spend time in hospital. There are four hospital classrooms in Christchurch: Two at Christchurch Public Hospital, one at Burwood, and the fourth is the Edward Seagar School at Sunnyside. There is also the Templeton Hospital and Training Centre. KAY FORRESTER reports:

“I don’t want to go to school today, I don’t feel very well.” That time-honoured excuse of all children has no place in Ward 23 at Christchurch Hospital. At 9 a.m. each week-day the young patients make their way to the school room at the end of the ward. There are no bells to tell them it is time for school, but the hospital teachers, Mrs Alice Langley and Mrs Betty Purdue, will have made an 8.30 a.m. ward round to see how many of their pupils will be in class. Usually the children are more than happy to spend the day in the school room, but occasionally nursing staff have to be firm with a reluctant pupil. Without exception those who are fit enough go to school whether they will be in hospital for a single day for tests or for several months. Those who cannot walk are taken in wheelchairs; those in traction are wheeled along in their beds. Sometimes, says Mr Bernard Hansen, principal of Spreydon School, and the principal responsible for the teachers based at the hospital, “you can hardly get into the room for beds lined along the walls.” School for the children in hospital is rather different from their ordinary classes, although the textbooks, games, and projects are the same. Annual grants from the Canterbury Education Board sup-

ply the materials the children use. Individual schools supply other books and materials for particular pupils — especially in the case of secondary students — and longterm patients often take lessons by correspondence. The routine in the hospital classroom is flexible. Parents can drop in at any time, nurses and doctors check on patients, and children disappear for X-rays and treatments. “It could not work any other way,” says Alice Langley. “Some days a number of children will not be here because of a variety of reasons. It is impossible to have a series of lessons which run for several days.. We work on a day-to-day basis, finding them something to keep their minds and hands occupied,” she adds. “Also, we have to remember that

some children are just not well enough to do very much.” Even so, the usual mathematics, reading, writing, and language subjects are covered and pupils can make a surprising amount of pro,gress. Betty Purdue puts this down to the extra attention given to individual children. “They generally work at their own pace but we have the time to do a lot of one-to-one teaching. Several children work much more comfortably without the competition of their classmates, and with their parents present.” Sometimes patients return for a visit to tell the hospital teachers they were top of their class in a particular subject when they went back to their own schools. Both Betty Purdue and Alice Langley taught ordinary and special classes before becoming hospital teachers. Mrs Purdue has been at Christchurch Hospital for the last four years, Mrs Langley for three. They have found teaching in a hospital ward different from previous positions. “Although it has its own stresses and tensions, they are different from those in an ordinary classroom,” Mrs Purdue says. “One of the things that most bothered me when I first came to work here was how I would cope with children who were very sick or dying. But really you simply don’t think about that — they are just another child. “It is very sad when a child dies, sometimes a relief, but when children talk about dying you just have to answer their questions honestly. Fortunately, we don’t get many children like that. Most are here only for short stays.” Being a hospital teacher also means being something of a mother-substitute. Betty Purdue

jokes that the Education Board looks for grandmotherly types to staff its hospital classrooms. “We do quite a bit of hand-holding but that is often the most rewarding part.” She tells the story of going down to the X-ray department with a five-year-old who had fallen out of bed and needed further X-rays. “While we were waiting Bobby pointed to a venerable old gentleman sitting with his wife. ‘You know, Mrs Purdue,’ he said. ‘That must be God because that old lady keeps saying “Oh, God, oh God” Often the teachers have to answer as many queries from parents as children. “Being out of uniform means parents sometimes find it easier to talk to us than the nursing staff,” says Alice Langley. “Then you are a social worker more than a teacher.” The age range of the classroom in Ward 23 stretches from preschoolers to secondary pupils. The under-fives are the responsibility of Mrs Monica Wilson, the pre-school activities officer. She calls herself the “cuddles lady” and says she has the best job because she does not “have to stick a maths book under anyone’s nose.” Her time is divided between the babies’ ward and the classroom. A teacher from nearby Hagley High School spends two hours a week with the secondary children. Mrs Gay Longbottom visits the hospital on a Monday and Wednesday. She talks to them in their beds in different wards, although those who are able to will go to the school room. These lessons are arranged on an individual basis, working with the pupil’s own school. Mrs Longbottom’s roll fluctuates between three and 12 pupils a week. The most difficult part of her job is the range of abilities and levels the students have reached. “You will be teaching anything from Form VII maths to Form 111 reading.” Some of the children who attend the classroom are not patients in Ward 23. They come from other wards and the teachers also visit children in the wards. “We visit the children who are in isolation, and just finding books and toys that can be sterilised without damage is a problem. Often these children really just need a visit and someone to talk to,” Mrs Langley says.