"She's My Mental Health"

A school day for a paraeducator is full of twists, turns, hard work and, yes, some wacky moments. Just ask Santa Fe para Barbara Salazar, a powerhouse of a helping hand to a very grateful teacher.

by Dave Winans

"I couldn't get through my reading groups without Barbara. She keeps the kids focused and under control." —Second-grade teacher Mary Beacham

It's still early—and chilly—this Santa Fe morning, and classes at Gonzales Elementary won't begin for another hour. But instructional assistant Barbara Salazar is already shuttling between the school office and her computer in Classroom 110 to knock out the Daily Bull, a flier with the day's announcements. It cuts down on annoying intercom messages, and even offers a daily joke. Today's gem: "What is a polygon? Answer: A dead parrot."

A Tough Little Audience

Photos by Jeff Geissler

When the day begins in Classroom 110, every one of teacher Mary Beacham's second graders—14 of 16 are in today—will be able to savor the parrot joke, even Anthony M. and Anthony Q., who are hearing impaired. Salazar, skilled in working with the deaf and hearing impaired, fits the guys with their FM hearing aids, while Beacham, her day-long classroom partner, clips on two microphones and two transmitters—one for each Anthony. Beacham releases the parrot line and it flies into a wall. "They never laugh—a tough sell," says Salazar with a wince. Worse yet, the kids start rolling out their own jokes.

Focus, Please

But Salazar always "laughs at my jokes, whether they're funny or not," chuckles Beacham, a 28-year veteran. "She's my mental health; we feed off each other." It's a strong partnership, made essential by Santa Fe's intensive focus on literacy instruction. "I give instruction while Barbara focuses on the needs of kids at individual tables," Beacham explains. "I couldn't get through my reading groups without her. She keeps the kids focused and under control." Salazar says her role is to "work alongside the teacher's philosophy," but her colleague quickly adds, "Barbara never waits for me to ask—she anticipates."

Keeping It on the Rails

From 8 until the 10:15 break, students embark on the day's packed agenda of journal writing, reading, phonics, spelling, and math. Kids cluster in smaller and larger groups at tables, on the floor, or on comfy pillows in the corner. A focal point of learning activity: the semicircular reading table, where Beacham, center stage like a casino dealer, reads folktales with groups of five. Salazar, a seasoned 17-year vet, helps keep it all on the rails. Almost simultaneously she's helping Anthony M. and Anthony Q. count lost teeth (a math exercise) and helping other kids with phonics ("We find a Pot; we plant a Lot") or spelling ("What two words rhyme here?"), while prodding yet others to complete their word search diagrams.

A Knowing Neighbor

Salazar, who has sent two of her own kids through Gonzales Elementary, is clearly on home turf. She deftly mixes the nudging—"What are you working on?". . . "What word is that? . . . "It's not too hard; you can do it"—with the knowing of a next-door neighbor. "I saw his brother at Albertson's supermarket last night," this bilingual aide softly tells two boys in a mix of Spanish and English. But impressively, for a school that's 68 percent Hispanic, English is the lingua franca of Classroom 110. In this easygoing environment, "kids help each other out, and bilingual kids pick up new English skills," Salazar explains. "They're bombarded constantly with conversation in English."

Cleanin' Up and All That

Salazar says her classroom's non-traditional, but she still tackles very traditional tasks, such as copying, wiping tables, straightening up the classroom, and writing notes to parents. At 11:05, while one group is at Beacham's reading table, Salazar is setting up snacks of juice and crackers for another group of six. "Is anybody allergic to anything?" she asks. And just before lunch, with a whistle around her neck, Salazar pulls playground duty, for an extra $7 a day.

"Put that stick down!" she yells at kids hunting for a skunk by a fence. The playground may look like a vast expanse of dirt, but underneath lie historic Pueblo Indian ruins, and across the back fence is the mayor's home. In this place, children are as protected as the ruins.

Collecting the Data

Following her 12:45–1:15 lunch with fellow paras Carol Zamora, Lisa Frybarger, and Brenda Devine, Salazar helps Beacham walk the kids—quietly, quietly—down to the nurse's office. The teacher stands each child against a wall ruler while her colleague records the 3-foot heights. It's raw data, of course, for a future math exercise—just like missing teeth. At 2:05, it's back to Classroom 110 for a video dose of Bill Nye the Science Guy. While most kids are watching an episode on "The Epidermis," Salazar is back to her routine, helping some students with spelling book problems and others with paper-folding for tonight's assignment, in which they'll illustrate eight new spelling words. The kids are "so good at coming up to ask for help," says the proud para.

'A Long Day, Nonstop'

"You may go, once you get your backpacks," announces Beacham at 3. After writing a note to Anthony Q.'s mom—he needs new hearing aid batteries—Salazar concludes with a gasp: "It's been a long day, nonstop. After this, I don't know how I'm going to make it through a four-hour history class." She takes college classes two evenings a week in pursuit of an associate's degree and, ultimately, a bachelor's. Salazar aims to become a certified teacher, preferably right here at Gonzales. She'll fit right in. "Kids are what it's all about," this educator says. "If you're not listening to them, caring about what they feel, or knowledgeable about individual needs, you're not doing your job."