Celebrate Stories of Success

End-of-School Year Strife

I recently read “Mattering: The Secret to a Life of Deep Connection and Purpose,” written by Jennifer Breheny Wallace. She discussed the human need to matter and all the ways that our value is confirmed. One chapter was about the magic of places that make us feel like we belong. She told stories of a pub with a time for children to dance while parents chat, coffee shops that offer a table reserved for conversation among patrons, and game night cafes.

A well-designed classroom offers this magic for the students and teachers. The class expectations, routines, and layout can cultivate conversation, collaboration, and self-directed learning. Friendships deepen, support is given when someone struggles, and victories are celebrated. The school year becomes magical, and ends too quickly.

For many students, this is a time of year filled with state assessments, end-of-year banquets and parties, and “the lasts”. The last practice. The past group project. The last rehearsal. The last game. The last day with a teacher who created a magical place where they belonged.

It is a confusing time. A student is both excited for the summer break, tired from studying, and grieving that the school year is ending, all in a single moment. As adults, we watch them struggling and tend to ask complicated questions like, ” How are you doing?”

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that there are some classrooms that don’t have that magic. Some students are excited to be done with that class, that subject, and/or that teacher. But even when we are ready to be done, we might not be ready for change.

Also, let’s mention for a moment the “May-cember” that parents are juggling. They are doing everything they can to manage a calendar that would make anyone tired.

Teachers are also struggling with the end of the year. They have to say goodbye to students they have poured their heart, mind, sweat, and tears into for months. Simultaneously, they need to complete the end of the year assessments, grades, prepare files to hand off to the next teacher, make plans for the master schedule next year, complete their professional development paperwork for licensure renewals, finalize any outstanding evaluations, finish any progress monitoring data, plan the end of the year party, get/make gifts for their students, and at some point eat, sleep, and do laundry. I have always said, the thing we often forget about education is that it is the only professional career where every project has the exact same due date.

Somehow, students, parents, and teachers make it through the last month of school every year. They make plans for how to minimize the stress and chaos next year (as though they really can), and they greet summer with joy. They sleep in, stay in their pajamas, swim, play, read, travel, and, after a few weeks, dream about starting a new school year and all the magic that it will bring.

Change is Happening

I will admit, I typically focus on the work left to be done. I get frustrated with how slowly change occurs and sometimes, defeated. There are so many opportunities we still aren’t leveraging. Too many people are living below poverty because they have been told they can’t work and receive benefits (which is a myth, but that’s another post for another day.)

But lately, I’ve noticed something. Change is happening.

I first started to notice the change in women’s clothing vendors. I am, like so many women, am not petite and without curves. Therefore, when companies like Girlfriend Collective and Summersalt feature a large variety of body types, I notice.

Suddenly, I notice that companies are not only inclusive of body shape and skin color. They are also creating adaptive wear, designed to support independence and fashionable options. And to make it even better, the clothing looks great! This kind of business model makes me take notice. For instance, Aerie has adaptive underwear, supports Special Olympics, and includes athletes as models. Tommy Hilfiger has a whole line of clothing for boys, girls, men, and women. They have specially designed magnetic buttons, pants with legs that adjust in length or width to accommodate prosthetics, and wear designed for sitting.

Are these small changes enough? Does including a person of color, or of various body shapes, or with a disability really make a difference? Is it enough? Yes. It is. If you have any doubt, then this photo of a young man at Target should convince you otherwise.

When we see ourselves reflected in the pictures around us, it matters. The media can tell us we are of value simply by showing people like us positively and respectfully. This is so simple, and yet, it is so powerful.

Change is happening in a million little ways, and each little thing will add up to the big changes we need to empower everyone.

This post is not sponsored. These vendors have captured my attention due to their inclusive practices.

Home of the Brave

Imagine a day when you spilled coffee on the front of your shirt, jammed the copy machine, lost internet access, made several mistakes at work, accidentally insulted a variety of people, burnt dinner, and washed a red shirt with your white clothes. Would you consider the day a disaster? Maybe even a failure? I would. Bedtime would arrive with the promise of a better tomorrow. But what if tomorrow wasn’t better? Nor the next day…nor the next…or the next…

How many times will you try something before you get angry, frustrated, or quit? How many times will you fail at your task or goal before you give up, or become so angry and frustrated that you no longer believe tomorrow is a better day? I don’t think I would even make it a full month.

Now imagine struggling with everything including getting dressed, eating breakfast, telling someone you love them or, reading a simple sentence in a favorite book. These are the everyday struggles of students with significant cognitive disabilities or complex needs. The students that I have the privileged of teaching.

My students arrived each morning with smiles, excitement, and anticipation of the instruction and opportunities for success. They struggled to read, write, communicate, make friends, count, add, or carry the cafeteria tray without spilling. It would be understandable if they felt like the day was a series of failures and a reason to quit. But, they never stopped trying.

They could easily quit trying. Families and teachers would understand. Afterall, they have tried for years to do something that their peers could do after only a couple of tries.

They could be angry and frustrated. We would empathize with the struggle.

But they don’t.

Sure, they get frustrated and stop trying for a short time, but they always come back ready to try again. They try again, and again. Maybe this will be the time they succeed? Or maybe this time? Today could be the day they write their name by themselves, answer a question in class correctly, read a sentence, make a friend, or even walk to class by themselves. Maybe today.

I am humbled by the opportunity to teach students with disabilities. But, the truth is, I learned more than I taught. And one thing I now know to be undeniably true. Individuals with significant cognitive disabilities or complex needs are the bravest people I have ever met or could hope to meet.

Invisible Inclusion

Inclusion is the dream, the goal, the hope.

To understand the drive for inclusion, we must first understand the past.

Less than 50 years ago, a child with a developmental disability, or cognitive disability, was typically shepherded away to a “home”, which is a nice way of saying institution. The children traditionally spent their whole life there hidden from society, and kept out of sight.

Can you imagine having to give your beautiful new baby to a “home?” Many parents couldn’t, and, as a result, they refused to send their children. Instead, the parents chose to become their teacher, therapist, and, ultimately, their advocate. As they continued to seek more traditional opportunites for their child, they challenged schools to open their doors and accept their child as a student.

Parents’ requests were eventually heard and change occurred. Schools offered programs for students with disabilities, some even on the school campus. Space for the students was found in basements, boiler rooms, back hallways, or other secluded or underutilized spaces.

The programs offered by schools were still separate, and not equal. Families, educators, and advocates together encouraged continued changes within schools, seeking equal experiences for students with cognitive disabilities including opportunities to make friends, play on the playgrounds, eat in the cafeteria, learn alongside their non-disabled peers, and in short, be seen.

School transformation continued and students with disabilities were more often seen throughout the school buildings.

This has been a long journey, and today, you will find many students with developmental disabilities sitting in the general education classroom. Their special education supports primarily occur within the general education classroom to minimize removal.

But, is this inclusion? I will argue no, in many cases the student with cognitive disabilities and/or complex needs is moved into the general education classroom along with their paraprofessional. The instruction throughout the day consists of separate, not equal materials. The para and student interacting and doing their own things, often with little to no connection to the general education instruction.

I have been guilty of using this model myself, thinking it was inclusion and therefore, the right thing to do. Looking back I realize that all I did was move the special education classroom. The student was still not included.

You see, it took time to understand, truly understand, inclusion is not a setting or a place. When done correctly, inclusion is invisible.

Inclusion is the belief that the student is as much a learner as every other student. Inclusion is teaching challenging concepts because you know the student can and will learn. Inclusion is encouraging dreams, goals, and reaching for more. Inclusion is the right to choose your friends. Inclusion is the opportunity to debate and refuse. Inclusion is being held to high expectations.

In short, inclusion is the belief that all students are students. When this belief is communicated in action, then we don’t simply debate geography, or the location of the student’s desk when creating the schedule. Instead the plan focuses on learning, intervention, and the student’s work toward obtaining their postsecondary goals.

I will know we have finally achieved inclusion when we no longer need to label it, because, we simply believe that all students are, well… students.