aagauld – Page 3 – Mrs. G. Wiz

The Struggle Is Real

My first car was a red Toyota Tercel hatchback with a manual transmission. I was excited to have a new car that was all my own after driving the family station wagon until it no longer ran. I wanted a manual transmission because it was 1) cheaper and 2) I was going to college and did not want to get stranded in an uncomfortable situation simply because I couldn’t drive the car.

My parent’s generous gift was purchased in the days when you picked out the features, color, etc., and then, waited for its arrival at the dealership. My car was available the same day my parents were leaving town for a trip. They picked up the car, parked in the driveway, and left.

You are probably predicting a story of the joys and adventures I had that weekend in my new car. But I didn’t know how to drive it. You see, I understood the mechanics of a manual transmission, but I had not driven one. So instead, I spent the weekend sitting in my car in the driveway.

When my parents arrived home, I was so excited to learn. My mom drove me to a quiet side road on a hill not too far away from our home. She stopped the car halfway up the hill, got out of the driver seat, and handed me the keys.

There is almost no more difficult challenge with a manual transmission than a hill. I stalled. Took a deep breath. Stalled again. Thought it through. Stalled. Swore. Stalled. Swore again. Stalled. Threatened to quit. Lurched forward…and stalled. That afternoon I stalled, swore, cried, stalled, yelled, swore, cried, stalled, and lurched until suddenly, I drove forward. Surprised, I yanked my foot off the gas and stalled again. I tried again with success. Slowly but surely, I learned how to drive a manual transmission. I made it to the top of that hill. By the time we got home, I was in the groove.

That afternoon is etched in my memory. Not just because I struggled, A LOT. But because I did it! I figured out how to drive a manual transmission and even began enjoying the nuances of being in control of the gear. I still have a manual transmission today even though they are 1) not available on many makes or models of cars and 2) no longer cheaper.

Struggle leads to victory. Without struggle, everything is well, just fine. Said another way, adequate.

I don’t want an adequate life. I want an amazing life. So do our students with complex needs. We need to allow for difficult, genuine struggle.

This is not to say teaching strategies like errorless teaching or behavior techniques are not important. They have their place and offer a path forward for some skills and moments. However, students are not one-note, one-strategy solves all humans. They need a variety of skills taught in a variety of ways to maximize outcomes. We need to include productive struggle in their education.

Productive struggle is about carefully crafting an assignment or learning experience so the student has the tools and skills necessary to struggle through, try, fail, try again, and ultimately, learn.

The value of learning to struggle through something difficult cannot be fully quantified, but it is one of the keys to becoming resilient. Furthermore, learning to fail and then try again prepares the student for real life, where there isn’t a paraprofessional, teacher, or parent standing by to “do it for you.”

As we enter into a new school year, I encourage us to reflect on opportunities to struggle. Art projects do not need to be perfect. Writing a word with incorrect spelling doesn’t ruin the message. Re-reading a passage is not a weakness. Giving the wrong answer in a discussion is not fatal. They are all opportunities to learn, do better next time, and try something more challenging.

Theodore Roosevelt said it best: “It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed.”

A New School Year

My social media accounts are showing signs of school starting with pictures of new backpacks, wish lists for our amazing teachers, and first day of school photos capturing the special moment.

Similar to these posts, I love the start of a new school year. As a child, it meant a new teacher, a classroom, and a carefully selected back-to-school outfit. I loved selecting my new box of crayons, markers, and pens, and looked forward to covering my books. (For those who are younger than I am, we were required to cover our textbooks with a carefully origami-folded paper grocery bag.)

Not everyone is excited. For some students school is hard. The work is hard. Making friends is hard. Learning to advocate for yourself is hard. Following directions and sitting for long periods of time is hard. And these are only a few of the reasons.

Students with disabilities have support to start the school year off well, but there are no guarantees. Parents have carefully planned for the future at IEP meetings. Yet, despite this planning and preparation, things may happen. There is no way to avoid the, well…unavoidable, surprise. Things may not go as planned. There may be services or supports not in place as everyone works through scheduling.

While everything may not go as planned. But…that means it is possible that things could go better than planned. Sometimes the greatest gifts are the unexpected ones. Days that I had an adult out sick or there was a sudden and unplanned schedule change could be stressful, but often I was surprised with good news. The student whose para was out demonstrated they were ready to be more independent. The schedule change showed me a better alternative to the one we were attached to as “routine.”

The same is true when there was a staffing change. I like knowing the collaborating teacher ahead of time, but often, the “new” teacher was exactly the person needed at that time.

As students begin a year of unknowns, I try to look at the good surprises rather than fear the ones I can not control. After all, you tend to find what you look for in life.

Expressions of Emotion

Like so many others worldwide, I am watching the Olympics. I have been brought to tears as I watch an individual achieve their lifelong dream, and tears as I watch years of work reduced to a single moment of loss. I am awed by the beauty of the horses competing in the equestrian events, and stunned by the strength within a single human’s body. I cheer as though the athletes are friends or family members. And, hold my breath in each of the moments that decide whether the athlete will be on a podium or not.

I am overcome with

awe,
joy,
exuberance,
grief,
pride,
humility,
respect,
fear,
agony, and
elation
and so, so much more.

Sometimes I feel these emotions separately, and I can name them. At other times, I feel them all at once as a muddle from my heart to the tips of my fingers.

I know I am not alone. It is this “Olympic experience” that calls us all to watch the sports we love and those we have never seen before.

I can share my experience with others, primarily because I have a communication system that is sophisticated enough to allow for a myriad of emotions, far exceeding happy, mad, or sad. But, for individuals who do not have a communication system that enables them to sufficiently communicate with others, the Olympics highlight one more way they are not a connected and valued member of the community. Yes, most of us, regardless of our communication skills can cheer, smile, or cry. But can they tell you they are crying tears of shared joy for the person’s victory? Or that the tears are because the competition is over and the adrenaline of watching has brought them to an emotional apex? Or that they are sad for the person who placed 4^th, going home with no medal even though they worked as hard as the person wearing gold?

No. They don’t have a sufficient communication system.

Instead, they are relegated to our guessing and waiting for them to indicate if we guessed right or wrong. Often resigning themselves to not be understood, but instead, left with an interpretation of their feelings, beliefs, or desires based on our perspective, not theirs.

Communication is how we connect and share our experiences, and our hearts. Every member of our community needs to have an effective communication system to share what is in their heart, mind, and body. Until that happens, we are all deprived.

Hidden in Plain Sight

People with disabilities comprise about 29% of the United States population. Yet, if I were to reflect on my experiences of the past month, I have only seen a person with a visible disability 3 times. Keep in mind that I have visited large, ticketed events, restaurants, bars, malls, stores, and grocery stores. Where are the people with disabilities?

While it is true that there are many disabilities we cannot see, there is a large number of people with visible disabilities who simply aren’t represented equitability in my community. In the past (although not a distant enough past) individuals with significant disabilities were sent to institutions. But we know better. Yet, when was the last time you saw a child with a disability playing at the local park or on a splash pad? When did you last see an adolescent with disabilities at an arcade or youth sports? When was the last time you sat at a bar and saw a person with a disability sharing a drink with a friend?

As a child, I remember concentrating on the faces of children missing printed on milk cartons so I could identify them when I saw them. I never saw one of those children, and I feel much the same today as I look around me for representatives of my entire community, not just those with no disability or invisible disabilities.

To be honest, I also hate the phrase “invisible disability,” because it isn’t invisible to the person or those who love them. I wish I had better language and welcome suggestions to help me articulate clearly my desire to empower all people.

I do know that we no longer hide people away in an institution. But I also know we aren’t fully welcoming of all people and differences. I hope that in a small way, bringing to light who is missing will start a small ripple of change. The next time you are out, will you notice who is there but also who isn’t? Will you start to look for the members of our community with disabilities and opportunities to engage them as equals in your community? Will you advocate for accessible opportunities?

I hope so.

And to the self-advocates and their families, I offer you an opportunity to share how I can support you, welcome you, and empower you.

Passion Is a Really Good Thing

Growing up, I associated the phrase “you are so passionate” with my weaknesses. I believed that passion was because a person wasn’t strong enough to stay cool, calm, and collected. As I grew, I believed passion was an antonym of professionalism.

I was wrong. It took me a while, (okay, the truth is it took a couple of decades) to learn that passion is a strength. It is a sign of commitment and an urgent call to action. When someone is passionate, they are not weak. They are simply demonstrating their strong heart and mind aligned and pointing to a single issue.

My passion is good. It is why I continue to seek ways to empower individuals with disabilities every day, even when the data tells me that my efforts haven’t accomplished my goals. Passion is what keeps me up late at night. Passion is what helps me to empathize with those I don’t agree with. Passion is what raises my voice above the noise of media. Passion is what makes me an expert.

I hope our children and young adults find their passion. For some, their passion will lead them to a career. Hopefully, it is one they enjoy and excites them throughout their life. For others, their passion will become a hobby. Both careers and hobbies are needed. One provides the fiscal resources to live, and the other feeds the heart and adds value to living.

Understanding the value of passion also helps me be a better IEP team member. Each person is passionate about the success of the student. Listening to the ideas and perspectives of each person can result in a stronger IEP, and ultimately, greater student success.

And so, I step into my passion. No longer apologizing for it, but instead, unabashedly sharing it. My passion can be the spark to ignite change, which is a really good thing.

Resolutions

I resolve to strive for better and accept my best.

I resolve to listen to my mind, heart, and body, even when what they ask for is a break.

I resolve to play more, laugh often, and earn my smile lines.

I resolve to let others live their own life while cheering them on their journey.

I resolve to leave 2022 in the past and embrace each day as a new moment.

I resolve to remember and celebrate traditions while creating new ones.

I resolve to be grateful for the progress and release myself from waiting for perfection.

I resolve to forgive myself and love whom I have become.

I resolve to not make any resolution that doesn’t serve me and to change my resolutions once they are no longer meeting my needs.

Happy New Year, and January 2, and each day after. Alison

Start Before You Are Ready

On the Work In Progress podcast, Cecile Richards shared a guiding statement: “Start before you are ready.”

I thought back to all the adventures in my life I started before I was truly ready. As someone who works so hard to get it done perfectly, I want to be fully prepared, yet I remember so many times that I thought I was ready when I wasn’t really. Significant moments that come to mind include the first day of high school, starting on the lacrosse team, going to college, running a half marathon, and my first job. I experienced each of these moments even though I hadn’t proven beyond a doubt that I was ready.

How often do we expect students, particularly students with disabilities, to “prove” they are ready?

For instance, in the first few weeks of kindergarten, you will observe students who are already reading and writing their names, some who know all the letters, and some who have not yet learned the names of most letters. You will see students working with their peers and some who are shy. Some students will cry or cling to their parents and others run right into class. These are natural differences. Yet, every year, there are kindergarteners with a disability assigned to a separate classroom until they can show they are ready; ready to read, ready to listen, and ready to work independently. Why are we asking them to achieve a higher level than their peers?

This expectation of “readiness” continues throughout their school years, to high school. The Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) requires a transition plan for students beginning no later than age 16. The students need to identify their career goals and education/training plans following high school. Some will also have goals related to independence and community involvement. This is important work. It helps everyone plan together to support the student to achieve their goals. When training or working with teachers and parents, the number one concern I hear is that students choose goals they aren’t ready for or can’t possibly achieve. As a result, we hold students back, waiting for them to be ready. How will they learn to be ready if they aren’t allowed to try it? Some of my greatest victories were when I had to try, fail, and try again. Why are we so afraid that a student with a disability will make a mistake? Or fail on their first, second, or thirty-fifth try? We are, unintentionally, denying the experience of victory and accomplishment.

Admittedly, the stakes get higher as the students get older. This is why it is essential we provide them opportunities early and often. Before they are ready, let them go to kindergarten, try to ride a bike, try out for the talent show, and play tetherball. They will learn life-long lessons about the value of perseverance and become resilient with each effort. Then, as adults, they will have the fortitude to try a new job, learn a new skill, or move out to go to school. In short, they will become confident, resilient adults. Isn’t that the goal?

Starbucks, Disney World, and Me

What could possibly be the same about all 3 of us?

We all turned 50 a few months ago.

Over the past five decades, we have grown, made mistakes, learned, changed, and grown some more. For businesses, growth is a key to sustaining, allowing it to flex and shift as the world around them continues to change.

Humans also need to grow to sustain themselves. First, there is physical growth as the person changes from infant, to toddler, to a child, to teen, and then adult. There is also avoidable growth like the result from too many treats or sweets and not enough movement (my personal challenge.) However, for me, it is the growth of knowledge that continues to be an important sustaining value.

I actively seek opportunities to learn. It could be formal learning, as represented by my multiple diplomas, and continued enrollment in higher education learning. There is also the very important informal learning that comes from listening, observing, questioning, pondering, experiencing, or reflecting. These are just a few of the myriad of ways humans grow and learn.

Growing your mind is optional. It requires risk and often, vulnerability. Starting this blog is just one of the ways I am continuing to stretch and learn. I want it to be perfect. As a result, I have delayed adding posts as I continue to refine, rethink, and revise until it was “perfect.” But perfect is a trap preventing me from moving forward. So, I’m back, with this imperfect post.

This is not the first time that I have had to push past my desire to do things perfectly. (For those who are familiar with the enneagram, yes, I am a 1.)

I wanted to be the perfect teacher.

This is a great goal until the fear of being less than perfect creates a barrier. I can remember times when a colleague or parent wanted me to try something new with a student and because I wasn’t sure I could do it perfectly, I would push back or delay. I would spend hours revising an IEP, reflecting on an email I received or reviewing the day for each “mistake” I made to avoid it moving forward. I allowed the search for perfection to get in the way of the work.

Now, in my role supporting teachers and parents, I have learned the value of modeling imperfection and striving for growth. Today, I model trying again, even when it’s not perfect, and look forward to many more posts in the future.

Thirteen Important Lessons

The brain is truly amazing in its ability to manage the complex human body systems, while simultaneously helping the person to make sense of their world, connect with loved ones, laugh at a joke, learn to play a sport, and so on. Neurology is a fascinating science that both, highlights all that we know about the brain while also illuminating all we have left to discover. Recently I read the book How We Learn: Why Brains Learn Better Than Any Machine…For Now by Stanislas Dehaene. This book offers summaries and analysis of the research and links the findings to how we can support humans of any age to continue to learn and thrive. I encourage you to read the book, but I am sharing his thirteen summary points below along with some of my thoughts.

“Do not underestimate children.” If you have met me or read my previous post, you know that I am a believer in the power of high (yet reasonable) expectations. Setting a high bar means we are reaching up, towards the stars. Low expectations only cause us to look down. Think about this in relation to how the simple act of looking up or looking down affects your mood. Looking down we think of as depressed, sad, or defeated. But, looking up…that is a dreamer, full of confidence and happiness.

“Take advantage of the brain’s sensitive periods.” This Ted Talk from Molly Wright says it better than I, but early experiences for learning are essential. The more we can continue to support one another as adults, the more we can better care for and nurture small children.

“Enrich the environment” Students need an environment that encourages exploration, communication, discovery, questioning, and debate. This can be done even in a room that isn’t fancy. Time spent creating a learning culture is priceless.

“Rescind the idea that all children are different.” I LOVE this one! You need to read the book to fully understand, but the basic premise is that we all learn. Yes, every single one of us is learning and our brains are performing in similar ways, which means, yes, all students benefit from high-quality instruction. No, I am not saying we do exactly the same thing for everyone. However, we are all far more alike than different and so yes, we are all students, and we are all learning every single day.

“Pay attention to attention.” Are you still reading this post? I hope that the strategies of a numbered list, font changes, and carefully crafted wording are keeping your attention. It is the way to keep your brain focused on what you want to learn.

“Keep children active, curious, engaged, and autonomous.” We are all born curious and wanting to learn. It is our job to continue to foster the child-like wonder in all of us.

“Make every school day enjoyable.” Fun and learning are not mutually exclusive concepts. We can have fun and struggle with new concepts or ideas. In fact, students are likely to engage in productive struggle longer when they are having fun in the process.

“Encourage efforts.” No one gets everything right the first time. The accomplishments I am most proud of are the ones that took effort and endurance.

“Help students deepen their thinking.” It is easy to fall into the trap of skills-based instruction, focused on small skills that may or may not be connected to larger learning. Also, it is easy to focus on the breadth of standards, curriculum, or ideas rather than focusing deeply on fewer concepts. Finding the balance is an art requiring educators have the time to collaborate and plan for rich learning experiences.

“Set clear learning objectives.” Yep.

“Accept and correct mistakes.” Did you know that some of the greatest technologies or products are a result of a mistake or failed experiment? For instance, the man who developed the adhesive on a post-it was trying to create a permanent adhesive. In the words of Bob Ross, it may be a “happy little accident.”

“Practice regularly.” Practice can be embedded naturally in instruction, learning activities, or daily routines.

“Let students sleep.” Sleep is commonly sacrificed, particularly by adults, and yet, it is the time our bodies need to restore, repair, and move our learning to memory. Sleep is important, and we need to give it more of a priority, myself included.

Dehaene, S. (2020). how we learn: why brains learn better than any machine…for now. Viking (pages 240-242 were referenced above)

Victory

Today was the day I had planned to go running. I had not run all week. I needed to go running. But, I really, really, really didn’t want to. I wasn’t “feeling it.” I simply wasn’t in the mood. I had a stomach ache, a headache, my legs were stiff, and I was tired. But I knew, at the end of the day, I would be sorry I didn’t try. So, I put on my workout clothes and shoes, found my favorite podcast, and stepped outside. And then, I did something different. I chose the most difficult and challenging route possible. I figured, if the run was super hard, it was the routes’ fault, not mine.

The first step, then the second, turning towards the toughest route possible, thinking about where I would run, and moving through it. At the end of the run, I felt amazing! My pace was no different than any other day. Not only did I complete the run, but I also overcame the hills and tough elevations of the route! It was more than an accomplishment, it was a celebration of the results of my efforts. It was…victory!

I wonder, how often is the exact experience for our students? How many mornings do they wake up thinking, “I don’t want to do it today?”

I previously posted my humble gratitude for their courage, but what about the struggle that proceeds the courage?

How often do our students arrive thinking, “I can’t”, or “I don’t want to”, and still, they try?

And then, it occurred to me. That while yes, I did complete the run, the real victory was in overcoming the challenge. It was the arduous route, not simply the step out the door that turned my run from completing the “to-do” list of the day into a feeling of strength, confidence, and victory.

Offering our students a chance is not enough. We need to offer them a challenge. We need to provide them the opportunity to be strong, confident, and victorious. We need to let them choose the path that will lead them to their goal. We need to do more.

I have been a strong believer in the need for all students to have equitable access to instruction. But it occurs to me today that it needs to be a bigger commitment. All students should have access to challenge or productive struggle. It is only when we offer more that students can truly achieve.