aagauld – Mrs. G. Wiz

Reading Gave Me Language

I am so grateful for idioms, similes, metaphors, adverbs, adjectives, and all the other beautiful ways our language allows us to personalize our messages.

Time outdoors fills my soul, giving me strength while also making me grateful. I am constantly amazed by nature and want to share the experience with people. But how do you describe the infinite depths of the sky? How do you tell someone the taste of the perfect peach? How do you describe the hug from the smells in your grandmother’s kitchen? How do you explain the ache in your heart after loss?

When I try to describe my experiences, I find myself drawing on the words of others, most often read in a book, magazine, blog, or newspaper.

The other night, I was walking my dogs and the sun was setting, changing the sky to the pinks, blues, and grays of an oyster shell. It was magnificent. It was also the moment I realized that reading gave me the words and phrases to explain my experiences.

Reading isn’t simply a task for elementary children to accomplish. It is a portal that transports us. We can visit the past, riding across the prairie in a buckboard, seeking a new start. We can live in a rocket floating through space. We can be a rabbit in a meadow with our family and woodland friends. We can do anything, anywhere, at any time by simply opening a book. But reading is also the key to unlocking our hearts, minds, and souls. We can read about politics, other cultures, agriculture, rocks and gems, fossils, seaweed, celestial bodies, movie stars, horses, recipes, and, well, almost anything. And the most wonderful result of this reading is that we can agree, disagree, wonder, ponder, refute, question, or adopt the ideas. In short, reading helps us become our unique selves.

Reading Comprehension

I frequently travel for work, and typically this involves driving. There are times when I drive 4-6 hours a day. To keep me company on the drive, I listen to podcasts. I select the first podcast, but once that episode ends, the app I use chooses the next podcast based on my favorites and listening history. I have listened to interviews, stories, serials, and comedy sketches. As a result, I have learned a lot. But was it “reading comprehension?”

Some would argue no, because I was listening, not reading print. Some would say yes, because this is how they access print—using text-to-speech software, apps, or AI.

Regardless of which you believe, we can all agree that understanding the podcast is comprehension.

Listening for meaning is an important piece of reading comprehension because you have to listen to the words you decode and interpret what they are telling you.

As we read to an infant to lull them to sleep, or read with a toddler snuggling under a blanket, they are listening. Pictures or photos can help them focus and hint at the meaning of the words, but even if there are no visuals or the visuals are not accessible, the child will still be able to comprehend. One of my favorite children’s books, The Book with No Pictures, is evidence of all that a child can understand.

Reading comprehension begins early, starting with symbols. Young children can find their favorite movie, character, or restaurant using the symbols, brand logo, or words. They realize that the symbol is connected to the experience. This then extends to understanding stories and the emotions, experiences, and events that impact the characters. The young children don’t “retell the story using two details.” Instead, they demonstrate understanding through facial expressions, comments, and reflecting on the experience as it relates to their own lives.

Comprehension skills evolve as the child’s decoding skills grow. The child learns to decode and comprehend text simultaneously. Think about how amazing that is. Their brain is taking visual information, recognizing the visuals as letters, decoding the sounds into words, AND thinking about the phrases and messages conveyed by the words. Again, the brain does this all at once. Isn’t that miraculous!

When reading is broken down into its smaller elements, it is mind-blowing that anyone learns to do something so complex. So, it is not surprising that this is a challenge for many people. Yet, even though we don’t see them “reading,” they are comprehending a variety of printed symbols all day. We need to leverage the same strategies that have helped the child in the past. This can include direct practice in small, authentic moments, using visuals to support remembering details, adding color coding, creating a story map, or a variety of other strategies until we find the one that works for the child. All of us are different, and a classroom full of students may need a variety of instructional strategies. By presenting and teaching multiple strategies, we are more likely to find what works than by using only one method.

Students with significant cognitive disabilities will need more practice with a strategy to learn the process before it can be determined if it is a helpful strategy or not. Therefore, they must get more opportunities to try the strategy than their peers. Think about how to increase opportunities, and you will have found the key to accelerating their progress.

A few easy ways to increase opportunities for reading comprehension practice include: closed captioning on the television, handing the child a menu, magazine, or book every time you are reading, read the signs as you drive, listen to podcasts or movies in the car instead of music, pair the student with peers to read aloud together, use test-to-speech software, sing karaoke following the words on the screen, use AI to captioning while teaching.

In short, the more we expand our definition of reading comprehension, the more opportunities there are to include all students in the learning.

Literacy Is Messy

A, B, C, …

Did you start to sing the Jackson Five Song, or the Alphabet Song that is sung to the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star?

Thinking about the alphabet probably invoked a variety of memories, because all of us, regardless of language, have an experience with learning the written or visual representations of oral or signed language.

The relationship between reading, writing, and communication is complex and interwoven. Reading only has value when you understand the written messages being communicated. If you don’t, then reading is a phonics exercise, and lacks purpose; kind of like the song John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt.

When we think about learning to read, we often begin with the alphabet, yet for most of us, we interacted with literature long before we focused on the letters. We heard stories, looked at books, and saw shows or videos with words highlighted for songs and stories. Children with verbal speech also played with sounds, typically called babbling. This verbal play grew into songs like (I Like to Eat) Apples and Bananas and the Name Game, both songs that encourage the singer to exchange sounds and create new, nonsense words.

All of these activities support literacy.

Literacy is complex and involves the integration of a variety of skills at the same time. Many students progress in class, becoming fluent readers as they learn new skills and about the English language. But for some students, we need to provide focused, targeted skills instruction.

Scarborough’s Literacy Rope is a useful analogy for reading. It visually shows how the skills develop simultaneously while also demonstrating that students can develop a “rope” even if a strand is slower to develop and weave into their skills. This is important for planning instruction, but also for IEP development and planning a student’s day.

Students who have not become independent readers can benefit from instruction that provides them access to literature or text and conversations with peers. Maybe they listen to the text instead or read it. Or maybe they read the graphic novel version of the text instead. Simultaneously, they may have a time in the day when a special education teacher or literacy coach works with them on phonics and decoding. The combination helps the student develop a rope that is strong and will carry them into their chosen career.

When we look at literacy as a messy process with multiple pathways and ways to weave together a rope, we open the possibilities for students with disabilities. They might not be proficient according to grade level standards, but they are weaving together the skills and becoming increasingly literate. The timeline may be different, but it doesn’t make their learning any less important.

As we enter October, we will look at the various threads on Scarborough’s Literacy Rope and what that could look like for a student with a significant cognitive disability.

Fall Harvest

The bounty of food our plants provide amazes me. Each fall, I am overwhelmed by the sight of farm lands, orchards, and gardens reaching the end of a season. Juicy, sweet apples bloom from wood branches, small kernels become corn stalks, and delicate vines grow large pumpkins. A harvest is the result of hard work, favorable weather, and a little luck. In short, you reap what you sow.

While harvesting vegetables and fruits has a particular season, I also harvest the fruits of my labor throughout the year. I work in education, providing training and support to teachers. I see the result of this work in a million small ways all year, typically through the stories teachers share about their students. Teachers also reap their rewards in the form of smiles, hugs, lightbulb moments, and thank yous. They collect these treasures in their heart, and it is the reward of the work that generates the seeds for the next year.

Our actions and words are our seeds, and we will harvest what we plant, water, feed, and nurture. When we drop seeds of hope, hope sprouts all around us. When we drop seeds of doubt, we are surrounded by doubt.

Ultimately, we are the creators of our garden of life. We can make it as colorful, rich, and healthy as we choose. We can also grow a garden of weeds, ivy, and thorns. If you don’t like your garden, take the time to weed and cultivate it. Cut out the branches that hide the light, pull the spiny thorny weeds from the root, and plant what you want to see grow. It is hard work. It is often messy work.

Ultimately, I can only harvest what I grow.

In times when the world is stressed, I choose to grow hope, love, compassion, empathy, and patience. I am supporting these delicate plants with my trellis of knowledge and stakes of conviction. Weeds do some up, and it is my job to continue evaluating and protecting my plants. When the sun has been hidden for too long, I need to shine my own light. When the rain doesn’t go away, I need to protect them, covering them until the rain stops. Some plants will grow faster than I expected, while others will lag. Both will be beautiful and worth the work.

Welcome September

September is the beginning of fall. With the arrival of September, students go back to school, nightfall comes earlier, and the temperature cools.

September is also a great time to adventure outdoors. Apple picking, corn mazes, and fireside s’mores create memories and give us a chance to enjoy the cool weather.

September is also the perfect time to start a new routine.

Routines are important, and almost everyone has several routines they have followed for years. I have a routine for when I wake up, another for getting showered and dressed, another for planning and organizing my work day, and yet another as I wind down for the evening.

When we have houseguests or go on vacation, routines are disrupted, and often, the change adds to the experience. But for some people, altering a routine is stressful, frustrating, and invokes fear.

This September, consider adding a routine “disruption.” Use a jar of fun autumn activities, an app with suggestions, a bucket list, or a bingo card to help randomize activities or disruptions to your family’s routines. Maybe you plan to disrupt the routine on Saturday. On Friday night, you draw a slip of paper out of your autumn jar, full of fun ideas. You then have the evening to plan for the disruption to routine.

Making trying new things a routine creates predictability, planning, and a sense of control while also teaching the importance of flexibility, spontaneity, and adventure.

If an adventure every week feels like too much, you can add blank paper slips to your jar to signify, “no adventure this week.”

Or maybe you select a number between 1-31 using a spinner or app and that is the day you disrupt the routine.

It is not about quantity, but about having a systemic plan for the unexpected.

And who knows, you may discover an activity that you enjoy so much it becomes a tradition to look forward to every time you welcome September.

Ice Cream

I love ice cream. It is one of my favorite treats. I love it in a bowl, cup, or cone. I am a purist at heart. My husband loves it best as a sundae with hot fudge, whipped cream, and a cherry on top.

Whether you like sundaes, ice cream with mix-ins, or plain vanilla, one thing remains constant: it is served in something. Walking up to the freezer full of flavors, the clerk asks, “cup or cone?” Why? Because they don’t serve ice cream by placing a scoop in your hand.

I share this because the National Center for Educational Outcomes’ former director, Martha Thurlow, once used ice cream as a metaphor for education. In this metaphor, ice cream is standards-based instruction. Any additional scoops or flavors are extra support provided through response-to-intervention (RTI) or multi-tiered systems of support (MTSS). But these are still ice cream, so they are aligned to standards. The cup or cone is Tier I or general education. Whipped cream, sprinkles, and a cherry are special education services, providing a unique blend of additional treats to add to the ice cream.

Using this metaphor, it is clear that special education is the extra, on top of standards-based instruction, not a replacement. And everyone gets standards-based instruction with access to Tier I. We aren’t going to serve students with whipped cream and a cherry with no ice cream in a cup or a cone while everyone else has an ice cream. That would be blatant discrimination. Yet, when we deny students access to standards-based instruction because they have a disability, we have served them an empty ice cream cone.

Oxygen

School is starting. It is a time of anticipation and excitement with a touch of anxiety and trepidation.

One of the best things about school is that there is a new start every year. As an adult, I miss the feeling of a “fresh start” that comes at the beginning of every year. There is a gift that comes with the excitement of starting something. As I meet teachers getting ready for a new year, I am struck by the energy they each emit. It is as though they are lit from within.

That bright light attracts their students to them like a moth to a flame. The light points and directs the learning as a lighthouse directs a seacraft through a difficult reef.

But I have also seen the effects of political pressure, negative press, parental stress, and tireless work. The light we see at this time of year will begin to dim, and flicker, and in some devastating moments, it will be extinguished.

When there is no light, there is nothing to illuminate, direct, and energize learning.

Teachers don’t want their light to fade. But as they worked on behalf of their students, they forgot to fuel themselves. Teachers need to stop and ensure they feed oxygen to their internal flame. For some, oxygen comes from daily exercise. For others, it is an opportunity to learn. And for others, it is time with friends and loved ones. No matter how they fill their energy, they need to ensure it happens regularly and often, or the flame suffocates and eventually burns out.

Another way to think about this is the image of the flight attendant telling you that in an emergency, you need to grab the oxygen mask and put it firmly on your face.

Our teachers need oxygen masks, firmly in place, to maintain the energy and excitement of the new year each school day for the next 36-40 weeks.

The same is true for students. What fills up the students’ oxygen tank to feed the flame inside them? How do we keep students glowing with energy and excitement?

Point of View

Ability, disability, accessibility, and barriers are key talking points when creating an IEP. Yet, these are also highly subjective and personal.

I really struggle with spelling. Vowels confuse me. Letters change the sound they make depending on what is before and after them in the word. Then we have the various language influences, resulting in words that are spelled similarly but pronounced entirely differently. My teachers and parents tried to help, teaching me rules like “-i before -e except after -c.” Did you know that is only a part of that rule? I didn’t, until I was in my teacher prep program in college. The whole rule is “-I before -e except after -c or when it sounds like A as in neighbors and weigh.” How can I be expected to think through all of the nuances of the rule, apply it, and still get the consonant correct? In general, it doesn’t matter because the computer helps me. It underlines every misspelled word, gives me suggested spellings, and has a thesaurus when my spelling is so wrong that I need to find it using a similar word that I can spell. However, there is one area where my spelling really is a disability: crossword puzzles. I have the wrong vowel on 1 across, which means I now have the wrong starting letter for 3 down, and I know the answer to the clue for 12 across, but there are more boxes than I think there are letters, so I don’t enter any letters.

Crossword puzzles aren’t required for my job or life, but it does illustrate how a skill deficit can be a problem in some situations and not an issue at all for others. The same is true if we use a medical model point of view or a social model.

In the medical model, a disability is something about the person that can be diagnosed, and it is a problem or something to “fix.” Whereas, in the social model, disability is a reflection of architecture, culture, norms, or expectations of others.

In the medical model, disability is a fixed status, meaning it is not likely to change. In the social model, disability is dynamic, increasing or decreasing based on the environmental surroundings.

Both models are more complex than these simple definitions. Examining the difference helps to illustrate the importance of the point of view when making decisions and planning for students with disabilities. The most important viewpoint is that of the person with the disability.

For example, for many students, we have goals related to social skills to increase the amount of time they talk with and engage with their peers. But what if the student is introverted and shy? Maybe their lack of engagement is not a disability deficit but a choice.

As we start planning for transition as a required part of the IEP, when the team decides that the student will live independently, did we ask if that was the student’s goal? I am a successful, employed woman whose salary is a very livable wage, yet I don’t live alone. I have had the same roommate for decades, and I call him “husband”. If the goal someone decided for me was that I live alone, I still would not have met that goal all these decades later.

Point of view also helps us understand each of the IEP team members suggestions and concerns during the meeting. The parent is “parenting,” meaning protecting, guiding, coaching, advocating, and worrying about their child. The special education teacher is focused on the disability and how to reduce barriers. The general education teacher is focused on how to include the learner in their instruction and what to expect from the student. The district representative is focused on ensuring legal compliance, staffing allocations, and data. It is no wonder that people leave the meeting feeling differently about the result, because they were each looking through their own lens.

Given the complexity of the work, it is amazing how often IEP teams agree. When the team is struggling to come to consensus, perhaps they first need to back up and understand the point of view of each member. Then, with this richer understanding, try to develop a plan together.

I say this knowing how hard it is when you are certain that your suggestions are the best ones for the student. But I have also had the opportunity to look at my own practice from a different point of view, and learned a lot about mistakes made and missed opportunities. I wish I had made more time to listen and more time to look through someone else’s point of view.

Choices, Expectations, and Discipline

Discipline.

What came to mind when you read that word?

Some of you may have thought of a moment when you were disciplined by a parent, teacher, or other adult.

Some of you may have thought of a moment when you were the disciplinarian.

And some of you thought about being punished.

Punishment is not the same as discipline.

Discipline is the coaching and teaching of expectations. This makes sense if we think about a root in the word:

Discipline—>Disciple—>Student

Punishment, on the other hand, is about power. The person with power demands submission or administers physical, mental, or emotional pain on another. (Note, this is not a post about the value or ethics of spanking—that is a different discussion.)

When we want to truly understand bigger concepts like expectations, we must also understand the difference between discipline and punishment. If we have high expectations for someone, then there will likely be times you need to discipline them. Most of the time, you are coaching, teaching, mentoring, and cheering the person on. But people are imperfect, and there may be times when the person you are caring for makes a choice that is unsafe, undesirable, or otherwise not acceptable. At that moment, discipline is important.

Unfortunately, too many students with complex disabilities are either over-punished or under-disciplined.

Let’s first consider when students are over-punished. This often occurs if the student has significant behavior challenges and the team is not adequately trained on how to understand the motivation of the behavior and how to encourage desired behavior. In these situations, the team tends to punish. Privileges are removed, words are said, and, very sadly and inappropriately, sometimes illegal or unethical physical punishment occurs.

Now let’s examine situations that lead to being under-disciplined. One common example is when a student has a significant cognitive disability. Too often, there is a quick “forgiving” of the student’s poor choices. Excuses like ”they don’t really know better” or “ they are cognitively like a two-year-old” are said. But these are lies we tell ourselves to justify lowering expectations. If we don’t discipline a student with a cognitive disability, we are, through our action, saying that we don’t think they can or will learn the expectation, we don’t want more for them, and we don’t need to take the time to understand their choice. In short, we don’t think they have a right to be heard, and we don’t value them.

But the thing is, I don’t believe people feel that way; they just don’t know that discipline is holding high expectations. And if you don’t understand that, it feels unfair to discipline. But when we do understand the difference between discipline and punishment, we are able to emotionally engage in tough discipline conversations with the student from a place of love and kindness.

When we are committed to a student’s learning and, ultimately, thriving, we coach them, teach them, mentor them, cheer them on, and

Discipline them.

One Voice Is Enough

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been struggling. I feel like things are changing daily, and I can’t keep up. As a special educator, I don’t know if the systems that support people with disabilities are going to sustain the help, or if they are going to disappear or change their focus. I have lived all of my life with a fair amount of confidence in what the future will be, and now I am unsure.

What I now realize is that it is not all the changes that make me feel uncertain, but rather, how I respond to the changes. Politics, global tensions, wars, threats of recession, pandemics, drought and flooding…so many things pulling my attention away from what matters most to me: empowering people with disabilities to thrive.

When I am stressed, I watch a movie that I know I will enjoy because I have seen it before (or a lot), and do something creative. Tonight, I watched a classic character–Elle Woods– and as she always does, she inspired me in her own way. The movie I watched was Legally Blonde 2. In this movie, Elle Woods, played by Reese Witherspoon, is in Washington, DC, advocating for a bill to stop animal testing by cosmetics companies. And, in the closing monologue, as she speaks to the House, she reminded me that “one honest voice can speak louder than a crowd.”

What would happen if we made space for an honest voice at our IEP meetings? What if the honest voice was the student’s?

Far too many students do not have an effective communication system, yet they are communicating. We need to make space for their voice. When we listen, really listen, to the student, we learn how to best support them to achieve their dreams.

And, what would happen if we each remember that our voice matters? As the world gets noisy, we can calmly and honestly speak the truth as we know it. For example, I know that individuals with disabilities are critical members of our community. I know that a community that does not include all of the people within it is weaker than it should be. I know that students with disabilities are learning tremendous amounts every day, even if it was not the target for the class. And I know that our students who don’t have an effective communication system have a lot to say to us.