Preschool Recommendation Letter: Fill & Download for Free

I am not child psychologist but I am responding because of this: When I read your question, the words “…. And that the teacher is bad” stuck out to me like they were written in big bold red letters. I would get to the bottom of those words and I would do so FAST. My experience with my own nieces and nephews and children I have babysat has given me the impression that a preschool child knows what feels good, what makes them happy, what makes them sad, and what makes them feel bad. Cheek pinching makes her feel ‘sad.’ Think about that word choice for a moment…. Then think about with the other word choice ‘bad’. Your daughter didn't say she was mad. She used the words sad and bad.I am not trying to frighten you or blow things out of proportion with only the very little knowledge of the situation included in this question, but my gut says cheek pinching isn't the only thing that this teacher is capable of or God forbid, has done. Regardless, the teachers behavior is not appropriate and is fostering an unhealthy environment for their preschoolers.Your concern of the teachers behavior or situation escalating is interesting but if it's a concern that you feel you can't overcome to confront the teacher, then maybe consider removing your child from that preschool and putting her in another one. And explain your reasons for making this decision to the head of the school and stick to the decision to pull her out.And, maybe by approaching this situation with the thought and intention of “my daughter doesn't feel good at preschool and it is important for us/me as her parent(s) to do whatever we can to help our daughter feel better right now”, start investigating this whole situation further, with your daughter, leaving no stone unturned.Have you asked her why she feels sad when it happens and why she says the teacher is bad? I would talk to her. Trust your daughter and what her feelings are telling her. Tell her that everything will be okay, that she isn't going to be in trouble by telling you why she feels like that, and that she is safe and that you are going to do your best to make sure preschool is a happy and good place for her to go everyday.If you aren't comfortable having the conversation with her, maybe take her to a child counselor and have the purpose be to get to the bottom of this and receive recommendations from the child counselor on how to proceed to ensure your daughter is in a healthy and safe environment. And that she is able to feel happy and good going to school.

I wasn’t necessarily “taught” this, but it took almost 20 years to remedy.I’ve always been told that I had bad penmanship. From the moment I learned to hold a pencil, people were saying that I had chicken scratch penmanship. And while it didn’t bother me as a kid, it did slowly get to me. In high school, I started trying to remedy it.Now, I always assumed-as did everyone around me-that it was because I wrote too fast. So I would try slowing down, but it honestly didn’t really help that much. So I practiced writing the alphabet again and again and again, sometimes spending entire classes ignoring the teacher, and just writing the alphabet. My dedication would do in and out, because none of my practice ever weighed off. My penmanship never got better, no matter what I tried.Then I was in college, sitting in a psychology class, bored. I decided to google “how to improve penmanship as an adult.” One of the first things that the website recommended was to check your grip.These are the four technically correct pencil gripsMy sister went to occupational therapy as a kid, so her pencil grip was perfect. My brother holds the pencil in a way that isn’t necessarily “wrong,” but is unique. He uses the dynamic quadrupod, which is common in kids with ADHD. I always thought that since his was weird, mine must’ve been normal. But alas, no. Mine was wildly incorrect. I was holding it kind of like thisWhich is super incorrect. It’s common among 4–6 year olds, but most kids age out of it, or it’s caught by a teacher and corrected. For whatever reason, I made it through 15 and a half years of school (preschool+K12+college) before it was corrected, and it was because I noticed it. Not a teacher, but me.So now I’m teaching myself to write properly. I’ve managed to adjust to the new, better grasp, and I’m slowly learning to write with my fingers instead of my wrist, although my letters are still a hit or miss. I’ve also learned that I need pens with a thin point, because I do like to loop my letters.So yeah, not necessarily something that I was taught, but something that nobody corrected in 20 years of living.SourcesWhen to "Fix" a Pencil Grasp - The Anonymous OT.Pencil Grip 101 - Updated! - The Anonymous OTPencil Grip 101 - Updated! - The Anonymous OT

Can I be really honest with you?I don't quite trust therapists who aren't mentally ill.Provided that someone has at least, you know, had some struggles, been in therapy of their own, I'll work with them. I'll refer clients to them that I think they can handle (and help!). But for therapists without a diagnosis, it's going to be a tough sell for me to believe that they really, deeply, understand both the suffering and the humanity of mentally ill clients. Rationally, I think that's possible. Emotionally, at a gut level, though? It just makes me a little edgy.Mentally ill mental health professionals are the ones I prefer to work with. First, because it makes them better care providers. Your experiences are going to make you more empathetic, more understanding, and are going to beef up your awareness of the difference a really good (or really bad) therapist can make. Also, though, mentally ill people already know we are mentally ill. We’ve had to figure out what we need, what makes us tick, how to care for ourselves, how to set necessary boundaries and do essential self-care. And we've had to do that, very often, in a life-or-death situation. When you have had to care for yourself, to save your own life, it's not too much of a stretch to care for yourself, to help save someone else’s. Mentally ill therapists know deeply what is at stake in our work.So, I guess I could just rattle off my diagnoses, and hope they helped this feel more doable for you. But I've been sitting here typing, just thinking about the incredible range of gifted clinicians I know personally, who are mentally ill. Most of us have experienced trauma. Most of us have at least one severe and persistent mental illness diagnosis. Most of us take meds, and see therapists of our own on a regular basis. Many of us have needed inpatient care, have struggled with self-harm or suicidality or addiction, or all of the above. We've had shitty relationships. We've had scary relationships. So, you know, we get it. And while they don't hear the details about why we get it—our clients see and feel the difference.And here are the cool things about being a therapist. Like, first of all, any thought you have ever had about, oh, this might let you use your own suffering in a positive way, this might feel transformative or redemptive, you might have something unique to offer from your own experience? Totally true. So completely true, I can't even tell you. You will get to use every wretched experience you've ever had—and the fantastic ones, those matter, too—and it is going to transform them from just pointless, unnecessary pain, into the tools of your craft. It is very hard work, and it is the best thing I've ever done. You'll love it.Also, you're going to get the best therapy you've ever gotten in your life. For free. For hours every day. Because every night, you're going to go home from work, and all the great insights you've had with clients? You're going to start noticing how they reverberate through your own life. And everybody who seems like they're just refusing to move, and staying stuck in problems they could walk away from? They're going to reflect some old, unnecessary thing you're holding onto. This part is sometimes less fun, but, holy shit, will you grow in ways you didn't even know you were capable of. It's an amazing thing.So, here is what you do: keep prioritizing your mental health. Mental illness is not a barrier to mental health training or licensure—most graduate programs understand that this is an asset—but untreated mental illness will be. Stay on any meds, keep or develop good relationships with a prescriber and therapist who you trust, soup up your own self-care and self-awareness in every way you know how, and keep learning new ones. Build up a strong, solid support system for yourself, especially as you transition into college. Study whatever you want to—you can major in psychology or social work, if you like, but many graduate programs will only require the equivalent of a psychology minor, especially since you're looking at counseling and not research. Study something that is exciting, and engaging, and that feeds and sustains you—I did printmaking and Spanish, with a minor in Jewish Studies, and while I had to make up a few prerequisites, I graduated alive, sane, and with a healthy degree of self-knowledge. Those three things will be more important to your eventual practice than most specific coursework you could take as an undergrad.Get to know your professors, especially the ones you like and relate to—they'll be writing your grad school recommendation letters, in a few years. Involve yourself in college or community work that connects with the clinical work you'd like to do, down the line—this can be pretty much anything, so make it something you enjoy. I know a psychologist who was a student athlete, and now specializes in performance optimization and eating disorder treatment for athletes. I was in the LGBT student organization, which is my thing, professionally (incidentally, I also use a lot of art, a little Spanish, and a non-trivial amount of religious philosophical training with clients for whom those are relevant); my boyfriend loves working with younger kids, and taught in both mainstream and therapeutic preschools.The only way your mental health is even likely to come up relative to licensing is if you experience a significantly interruptive event, or new diagnosis, while in your internship. That didn't happen to me, but did, to my boyfriend—he had to take a couple of weeks off, start some new meds, and wait for them to kick in. So he wrote a brief note to the regulatory board, explaining his new diagnosis and medication, and noting that he was in ongoing therapy; his supervisor countersigned it; and his license showed up exactly as expected. No big deal.If you want to be a therapist, please be a therapist. We can use you in the field—and your eventual clients can, too!