For the first installment of Gay’s story, click here. My beloved Sisters, it is my great honor to bring you my sister, Gay’s, second installment in her mind-blowing, God-glorifying story of redemption. By all means, let your friends and relatives know to watch for these installments if they could really use this hope. Boy, have [...]
Good afternoon, Siestas! Monday probably would have been a more appropriate day to write this post, but we went straight into Tuesday night Bible study, so I wanted to get through that before we spent one more post on SSMTC. So, please forgive me for any details I might be missing. It was a wonderful [...]
Houston ladies! In case you haven’t heard, we wanted to let you know that we start Bible study tonight! Beth has been studying and preparing for this very night as we plan to journey through the book of Deuteronomy together for the next six weeks. We’ve been out of Tuesday night Bible study for quite [...]
I’ve been teaching for eight weeks now, and it seems like the harder I work, the more exposed I feel. Insecurities seem to surface on a daily basis. My father taught me to proclaim my faith out loud (see “Aspergers and Spirituality”), so I thought I would share something that the holy spirit whispered to my heart the other day on the way home from work.
Having our weaknesses exposed feels crushing, and taking on a new position can make that seem inevitable. But the crushing process can bear fruit. “…unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” John 12:24.
I have been in this profession now for eight whole weeks! My supervisor insists that it was my energy and enthusiasm that won me this position over the other applicants. I am eager to build a model special education program. I work long hours, and I am often preoccupied with thoughts of work.However, in my efforts to create this program quickly and effectively, I guess that I forgot that it takes time to build something long lasting. I also forgot that I don’t work alone.
One of the instructional assistants who works in my classroom told me that it would be helpful for him to focus on one thing at a time when working with students. This is true of all of us, including myself. He made this request in his usual polite and humble way that somehow sank in through the busyness that has consumed my life lately. With a sly smile he added, “Even God took seven wholes days to create the world.”
Perhaps my new focus should on building a cohesive team.
My special education director brought it to my attention first. “That young man will do anything for a dill pickle!” The special education teacher that preceded me used to keep a jar of pickles in her small classroom refrigerator to reward his work and to keep the student motivated.
One of the instructional assistants who works in my classroom buys candy bars for her reading students when they reach a certain fluency level. Students focus on earning that candy bar, and in the process become better readers.
When my son was a in preschool, my husband and I used a reward system for sleep. If he could bravely face his problem with night terrors and go to sleep in his own bed for seven nights, he could earn a night hike with his daddy to see nocturnal animals (which he loved). My husband gladly sacrificed one night’s sleep to gain seven more.
One of my former professors used to work with adults with developmental disabilities. One young man had to be kept in physical restraints and guarded by two adult supervisors at all times simply because the supervisor of the facility did not believe in reward systems. This same young man would do anything for a Pepsi cola. My professor said he would do away with the restraints and keep Pepsi colas in a gun holster at both sides to pull out as needed for cooperation!
When we teach children in their area of greatest difficulty, they often need that extra incentive. We’re asking them to tackle their greatest weakness, yet again, and they may lack the natural rewards other children experience from success or good grades. Our kids often work hard and still struggle. Progress can be slow and painful at times. Tired and frustrated children can easily loose sight of the long term benefits associated with hard work. Reward systems can be a valuable motivation tool, and I believe they honor the child’s struggle with a legitimate disability.
A parent brought the problem to my attention first, and I am still trying to find a solution. After an IEP (Individual Education Plan) meeting, the parent expressed concern that her child was earning D’s and F’s in several of his classes. I told her that I would check with classroom teachers to make sure that her son was receiving the classroom accommodations and modifications specified in his IEP.
I have since begun checking on the grades of other students on my caseload, and the information has been discouraging. As I see it, the problem is that the accommodations are too subjective for the teachers to understand and implement effectively. Or the child’s disability is extreme enough that simple accommodations are not enough to close the achievement gap. Many of my students are not able to access the regular education curriculum.
I have begun to meddle on their behalf. Here are some things I am trying. I have sent instructional assistants into their classes to help implement accommodations. I have gotten parent consent to add accommodations to existing IEPs. Still, I am not satisfied with my student’s success. I think that some of children could benefit from a more individualized program in content area classes, especially if the disability lowers skills by more than two grade levels.
I would like to use the formative assessment strategies (link to Formative Assessment) that I have had success with in my resource room, to rewrite some of the content area curriculum. Attached is an eighth grade level science self-evaluation form from a modified science unit. I will let you know how it goes.
I am teetering on the edge of a potential solution to my problem with letter grades in special education. I attended a great in-service last week, with an assessment approach that fits within the philosophical paradigm that guides my teaching. It is called “formative assessment”. Ironically, this workshop was not aimed at special education teachers. However, it mirrored the approach we use in my resource room (see Teaching to Mastery).
Expectations are clear and students are involved in monitoring their own progress. Learning objectives for an entire unit are spelled out clearly between the teacher and the student. Students decide when they are ready to move forward towards the next learning target. I created a self-evaluation form for all of my math groups this past week, and I was amazed by the success. Here’s a Pdf.
My students responded in a variety of ways, all of which encouraged me. Some students reflected on the day’s work and concluded that they needed to practice the skill more before moving on. I agreed with their self-assessment, and the next day they began working with little to no prompting from me.
Other students saw it as a race. They worked hard to meet one, two or even three objectives in one day and proudly showed me their accomplishments. There were a few students who needed me to explain to them what I wanted them to focus on the next day, but they nodded with agreement at my suggestions. Still, for everyone, expectations were clear and goals were attainable. Motivation and self-confidence increased, and the trust that I am building with my students deepened. (See This is Where the Failure Stops)
At least theoretically, a student should not be able to fail a special education class. Student failure would be a professional embarrassment to me, because I should be teaching diagnostically. Student learning is my guide, and instruction is an ongoing problem solving process.
I do not allow my students to earn a B or C either. For example, after teaching a math skill, I will conduct a short curriculum based assessment to see if the student has mastered the skill. If they demonstrate mastery, we will move on. If the student gets a B (8 out of 10 problems correct) or a C (7 out of 10 problems correct), I will reteach the skill until they excel.
So, in my resource room, although we collect lots of data to guide our instruction, we only allow our students to earn A’s. (See This is Where the Failure Stops)
I began wrestling with this philosophical issue on my very first day of teaching. Our school district uses the Pinnacle Grading System, which is a wonderful resource if you want to assign letter grades to students. I; however, did not want to assign grades for my student’s work. I had trouble articulating the dissonance I was experiencing to the instructional assistants who work in my classroom, my colleagues, and my supervisor. It just seemed as though our grading system could never work for me. What I wanted instead was a way to communicate with my students and their families that would give them specific feedback on the progress children were making towards their IEP (Individual Education Plan) goals and objectives.
I am a middle school teacher, so most of my students have already experienced academic failure in one form or another. Very few of my students perceive themselves as good students. A fragile self-esteem is almost a more foreboding obstacle than the disability that qualified them for special education services in the first place. Because of this, I try to build self-confidence into each and every learning experience. When students feel safe, learning increases. When students feel threatened, they often shut down and learning stops. A guarded and defensive student requires the greatest caution and care. Our relationship, teacher to student, is tenuous at first. However, it grows stronger with each success the student experiences. I tread with caution as I try to build self-confidence and trust.
I still haven’t figured out what to do about my “grades” dilemma, but I am wrestling it out on a daily basis as I strive to do what is best for my students.
Because of the social isolation my son had experienced (see not received), I called five families with children in my son’s class. I asked those families if their children would be willing to be members of a friendship circle, a group of peers who would befriend and support my son. I chose children who were kind, yet had leadership skills and would have some social influence in my child’s classroom. They all agreed to join, and I gave these student’s names to the special education teacher. He met with them to get the group started and to make sure that they knew some ways that they could offer support. These could include asking my son to join a game or activity on recess, agreeing to be his partner in class, and defending him if someone was mistreating him. The special education teacher also planned to include them in some social skills training activities for my son so that they could be aware of the skills he was learning and help him to practice these skills in authentic social situations.
The school year ended, and I stopped holding my breath. The last three months of school were fabulous for my son. He was a part of the group for the first time in his school career. He was invited to play dates and birthday parties outside of school and he formed real relationships with children his own age. The friendship circle expanded, as other students began to follow the lead of the five children supporting my son. At the end of the school year, my son told me that he didn’t want school to end. The anxiety, the sleepless nights, the overwhelming isolation and rejection ended. And it is all because of five young children who were willing to openly befriend someone who is different.
Last summer I was busy arranging play dates. I was nervous at first. Play dates have always been stressful for both of us. But we both gained confidence in this new social arena; we both began to heal.
Fifth grade started, and the friendship circle carried over into a new year. It is now October, and my son comes home happy every day, with stories to share about his teacher, his classroom, and his friends. He says there are no bullies at school now, and he continues to grow and develop socially.
You have heard undoubtedly about Linda Brown, the little girls whose last name heads the historic legislation “Brown versus Board of Education Topeka Kansas”. Her parents, along with 12 other families, fought to desegregate our public schools, paving the way for an inclusive special education model. If, indeed, separate is not equal, than desegregation should apply to children with disabilities as well.
The civil rights movement paved the way for IDEA and the Least Restrictive Environment (LRE):
“To the maximum extent appropriate, children with disabilities, including children in public or private institutions or other care facilities, are educated with children who are not disabled, and special classes, separate schooling, or other removal of children with disabilities from the regular educational environment occurs only when the nature or severity of the disability of a child is such that education in regular classes with the use of supplementary aids and services cannot be achieved satisfactorily. (20 U.S.C 1412(a)(5) (A)”
For me though, the person who inspires me even more than Linda Brown, is Ruby Bridges, the seven year old girl who bravely exercised her legal rights to attend an all white school even in the face of persecution and hatred.
Actually, to be perfectly honest, the person who I empathize with the most is Ruby’s mother, who sent her child to school in the face of such opposition. Although she could not stay with her beyond the first few days, she taught her to pray in an effort to insulate her from the abuse. “Bless those who curse you; pray for those who mistreat you.” (Luke 6:28) These were the words of Jesus, and Ruby’s mother taught her to exercise her faith in the midst of overwhelming hatred.
I look to her as a role model now, as I send my son to school. He does experience abuse for his differences time and again, see Not Received. I have many opportunities to exercise my faith and to teach my child to pray for those who mistreat him, and he has an incredibility mature faith. (See Aspergers and Spirituality).
Life can be hard, and for folks living with a developmental difference, it can be even harder. In reference to life’s trials, the apostle Peter describes the refining of our faith. Trials come “so that your faith-of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire-may be proved genuine…” I Peter 1:7.
As we follow Ruby Bridges into a mainstream setting, our entire family gets to exercise our faith and grow spiritually. Forgiveness is sometimes harder to find when your child is the one being abused, but I pray that my faith will be proven genuine every day during those times when my little boy is not received.
Enjoy the attached video for more information about Ruby Bridges.
I called the neighboring school district that offers the communication class to see if it would be possible to transfer to their school district so that our son could receive appropriate special education services. The director of special programs was very kind and listened to my concerns, but she explained to me that their district does not accept transfer students. She suggested that our family could move to their city, but she wondered if that was too extreme. I told her that families raising children with developmental disabilities have a different definition of “extreme”. We have already considered this alternative. See A Program that I like.
To further illustrate this point, I thought I would share some of the possibilities that have been running through my head.
1) Continue living from crisis to crisis with our son in his current school setting, and hope the other children will treat him kindly. See Not Received.
2) Pull our son out of school and teach him at home. However, he will not learn the functional social communication skills that he needs, and our family will have to live on one income.
3) Move to the neighboring city and commute to work. However, the program ends after middle school, and we would have to move again if our son still needs this support.
Unfortunately, few districts offer appropriate special program for children with high functioning autism and the ones who do often only offer it for certain grade levels. So once children reach a certain age, the program goes away even if they are still in need of these services. Also, when budgets are spread thin, districts contemplate closing existing programs to save money, removing this support right out from under the children who so desperately need them.
What legal recourse do we have as families? Can we find protection under IDEA or No Child Left Behind? What can we do if the Least Restrictive Environment does not offer enough support for our children?
Watch this episode of Parenthood to see a family wresting with this issue of educational placement.
