Introduction

I have dreamed of being a teacher ever since I can remember. In elementary school, I would take extra copies of worksheets home and teach invisible students in my classroom, which was my bedroom. I'd save my babysitting money to buy Vis‐á‐Vis markers and clear shelf‐contact paper to make transparencies for my overhead projector, which was my dresser. In high school, I tried to start an email chain with friends to add math word problems and forward them. While wildly unsuccessful at the email chain, I have always known I wanted to teach.

Special education came into my life when I was a teenager. I vividly remember going to Walmart with my mom and seeing someone she knew there. I remember hearing them talk about this person's younger son having a disability and needing extra help in school. I had no idea what any of it meant, but this is my very first memory of me knowing that being a special education teacher is what I was put on this Earth to do.

My senior project was all about No Child Left Behind, and after graduating high school, I went on to pursue a dual certification degree in Special Education N–12 and Elementary Education K–6 from Kutztown University of Pennsylvania. And in 2010, I graduated with my Bachelor's Degree and started to pursue my dream as a classroom special education teacher. It is true what they say though: nothing prepares you for teaching in the classroom quite like actually teaching in a classroom does.

No more than a month fresh out of college, I taught Extended School Year (ESY) through a local Intermediate Unit. My class was a severe autism unit, and honestly, I would not have survived that summer without the help of the paraprofessionals in the room with me. About a month after the end of ESY, I moved to northern Virginia and became a 7th‐grade math co‐teacher. The staff I worked with was incredible, administration was so supportive, the school was recently remodeled, and my caseload had about 20 students on it. Talk about a dream job! I loved this school and all of the students I worked with. I even got to write my first Manifestation Determination and Behavior Plan that year! At the end of that school year I remember thinking, “Steph, you made it through this school year! You can make it through anything!” It wasn't tough, but it was not what college had prepared me for—even though I loved every minute of it.

At the end of that school year, I jumped right back into teaching ESY. You know those things that non‐teachers always say we're so lucky to have … there was no summer break for me my first four years of teaching. I lived and breathed being a teacher.

After my first year in Virginia, I moved back to Pennsylvania to be with my now‐husband outside of Philadelphia. I struggled finding a teaching position for months, and this is when I started selling lessons I had created on www.teacherspayteachers.com. A few months later, I accepted a position as a K–8 resource teacher at a charter school in Wilmington, Delaware. The commute was rough, my caseload was enormous, but I was back in the classroom and I was going to make a difference. The staff and administration at this charter school were unmatched. And I mean, I actually wanted to go to the staff meetings because the people I worked with were so passionate about education. It was contagious. I worked at this charter school for a few months until a position as a high school instructional support team (IST) facilitator at a public school opened up. At this same time, I was working on my Master's Degree in Curriculum and Instruction and English as a Second Language because I wanted to help write curriculum and saw this new position as a next step.

As an IST facilitator, I worked closely with the general education teachers and administrators to identify and help students who didn't qualify for special education services, but needed additional supports. Through this position, I got to see the other side of special education. The side where staff and parents, sometimes together and sometimes not, were advocating for students and trying to find loopholes to get supports for these students who didn't qualify for special education services. Teacher me thrived in this position until the budget cut it a year and a half later.

Months later, I was hired by another charter school in Chester, Pennsylvania, to be a 5th‐grade resource teacher. It wasn't long after this that we found out we were moving to Houston, Texas. We were thrilled, and as soon as we found out, I began transferring my teaching certifications to Texas. Within two months of being in Texas, I officially accepted a position as a grade 1–4 life skills teacher. I spent the entire summer getting ready, and as soon as I was allowed in my classroom to set up, I was there. I instantly fell in love with my class. We got to cook in the classroom, practice life skills, play to build motor skills … this classroom setting lit my teacher soul on fire. The next school year, I became the special education team leader in the building, and my caseload was exhausting, but I lived for it.

This was the first year I remember crying in an IEP meeting; I cared so much about my students and felt like no one at my school was listening to me when I advocated for the services my students deserved. You know how some years you teach, and other years teach you? My second year in life skills taught me. That class had so many needs, and on top of the day to day, I had to prove to the district that I desperately needed an additional paraprofessional. Needless to say, I became that squeaky wheel advocating for my students, which turned into a very unhealthy and toxic situation the following school year.

Ultimately, I decided to leave the classroom mid‐year.

It was the hardest decision I have ever made, to this day. I felt broken beyond repair, and I was ashamed and disappointed in myself that I left. The guilt ate me alive, and without being in a classroom, my entire identity of being a teacher shattered. At this same time, I was diagnosed with severe anxiety and PTSD. The following year was a blur of ignoring my mental health, until I finally decided to go to therapy and get help. There was always this little voice inside my head, though, that told me I needed to be in the classroom, so I went on interviews and would have anxiety attacks when offered the position. After experiencing the same phenomenon three times, I started listening to my body and what it was trying to tell me. I challenged myself to find my place in education that did not involve an actual classroom.

My journey in education has always challenged the traditional status quo of what being a teacher is and looks like. You know, the one where you teach in one classroom for 35 years and then retire. Fortunately, and unfortunately at the same time, education has changed a lot in the last decade. What I do see from the outside of the classroom setting is teachers setting harder boundaries than before, teachers taking back their worth and standing up to challenge the current state of education, and I see more students than ever being referred to special education, with teachers being given little to no guidance or training.

Flash forward a few summers—I was creating a resource to help teachers with IEP writing. I remember talking to one of my friends and she could see the light return in my eyes as I described this new resource to her. That conversation inspired me to dive deeper into what I love—IEP writing. One fun fact about me is I truly enjoy writing IEPs; I always have. The paperwork excites me and I could look at data for days, and I know I'm in the minority with this. That's when I came up with the idea for The Intentional IEP. Since then, I have helped more than 30,000 teachers with their IEP writing through virtual and in‐person trainings and I am proud to call myself an IEP Coach.

One thing that has always rung true for me as a veteran special education teacher is my love of students. To this day, everything I do is to make an impact in special education. To make positive waves in special education. To help you, the special education caseload manager.

Habit Building

IEP writing wasn't always easy for me. I committed many of the ultimate no‐nos of IEP writing during my first years as a teacher:

• I spent nights writing IEPs at home.
• I wrote IEPs the night before the IEP meeting.
• I have not used data to make decisions.
• I have not always done my best to be collaborative and inclusive of the families I serviced.

I had a mentor teacher my very first year teaching, and the rest was on me to figure out—across multiple states, multiple classroom settings, and multiple IEP writing systems. The biggest lesson I had to learn had nothing to do with the process of IEP writing; I had to learn how to prioritize all the to‐dos in my classroom, and it wasn't until my 5th year of teaching that I realized the importance of prioritizing my teacher job duties and responsibilities. I had to learn how to say “no” and I needed to break bad habits and build new habits because I needed to set boundaries to protect my mental health.

Before you continue through this book, I invite you to join me in an activity. This activity is the exact habit builder that I created and began using in my own classroom, and my hope is that by completing this quick 30‐minute activity, you will be set on the pathway to becoming a stronger, more...