learning – Mrs. G. Wiz

Modifications

Modifications are critical and essential for some students.

A modification reduces the depth, breadth, and/or complexity of a task or lesson.

Modifications are determined by the IEP team to ensure the student has access to the instruction.

Modifications are only used as a last resort.

But what are they???

Defining modifications is challenging because they are not a “thing” that can be held, but rather, a process for evaluating a lesson, determining essential learning objectives, providing targeted activities, and assessing for learning.

Still confused?

Let’s talk about what they aren’t. Modifications are not prepackaged products, worksheets, a set of curricular materials, or different tests. Modifications cannot be bundled up and put in a box.

Modifications are systematic decisions. Decisions about what to teach, what vocabulary to use, the amount of guided or modeled instruction versus independent practice, determining what the objective is for the moment, the day, the week or the unit, and analyzing the student’s interaction and engagement with the learning to determine if they met the modified expectation.

So, let’s try defining it again.

Modifications are systematic, individualized, instructional targets specifically designed for students who cannot access, participate, and/or demonstrate their learning without them.

Teach the Future

It feels like every day I am hearing or reading a new story about the use of AI (artificial intelligence) in everyday life. For example, as I write this blog, a series of gray words show up as Word predicts my next word, phrase, or sentence. I can understand the hesitation to embrace new technology, but I also appreciate the benefits. I have never been a strong speller and auto-correct has created more problems than it has helped. However, as technology gets “smarter” it is better able to support my weaknesses and increase the strength of my writing.

Our youth have had the benefit of the squiggly lines that appear when a word is misspelled or the grammar is incorrect and with a few clicks, they receive options to correct their writing. I can hear the arguments, that they need to learn to spell rather than relying on technology. But do they? What will their life look like as an adult?

My school was progressive and we had a computer lab that was built when I was in 4^th grade. If the teacher had told me that one day I would carry a better, faster, more powerful computer in my purse, I would have thought he was crazy. Yet, that is something the majority of us do daily. I actually have two small computers, referred to as cell phones, in my bag on work days; a personal one and a work one.

The speed with which the world is changing is very apparent in technology, but change is happening in a million small ways all the time. The challenge for our teachers is to teach a student for the tomorrow that we can’t envision today.

Students with disabilities need us to teach them to use the most advanced technology and tools. While the specific tool may be extinct by the time they graduate, there are similarities across next-generation technology that help us all learn the new system. However, if we relegate students with disabilities to the older, “tired and true” technology or to technology that doesn’t have internet access because it reduces distraction, then we depriving them of the skills and exposure to tools necessary to thrive as an adult.

How do I know they won’t learn the skills later? Reflect on the skills of your grandparents and their understanding of the internet, online calls, and social media. My grandmother couldn’t understand how to use the cell phone. A wireless phone was the modern technology of her time. And, learning to use a computer was too complicated because she didn’t have any prior experience to lean into.

Students have started a new school year and there are a lot of projects, units of study, and group projects ahead. I encourage teachers and parents to think about how to engage their students in the content using current technology including AI. For instance, can the student ask AI to change the reading level of an online book? Or create a summary of a book written at a reading level that matches the student’s skill? Can they ask AI about a topic and then verify the accuracy using internet searches and online resources? Can a student draw a complicated picture to represent a scientific concept by describing what they want to AI? These ideas and more will support inclusionary learning while preparing the student for a rich and successful adulthood.

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.”

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.

Making a Case for More

There are two very simple principles at the heart of instructional institutions:

Teachers teach, and
Students learn.

While yes, it is really that simple, it is also very complicated. What to teach? When to teach? How to teach? These are just a few of the questions guided by a mountain of research and endless political pandering. Likewise, what the student should learn, by when, and how we know they learned it are equally compelling discussions sparking endless debates.

State standards were written and adopted with the good intention of ending the debate, clarifying for everyone what should be taught or learned and by when. Standards are a target. Educators, families, and students can measure their progress toward the target and make adjustments to help accelerate or change course as needed. As the student progresses to the next grade, the target is moved, challenging the student and teacher to another year of growth.

The ability to measure a student’s journey toward the grade-level target has led to the realization that some students will simply not make it to the goal before it is moved again. The gap between the student’s current skills and the target is increasing, not decreasing with each year, creating a feeling of inadequacy and hopelessness.

This brings me to the “Case of More.” Students with complex disabilities including a cognitive disability are often described as those learning significantly less than their peers, mastering less, or achieving less. I dispute these statements as false. In fact, I am arguing that the students actually learn more than their classmates with no disabilities.

When a student with a cognitive disability or complex needs makes a step forward in the curriculum, they have effectively integrated and executed multiple new skills and concepts learned. For instance, while learning a simple academic skill, such as how to add two numbers, the student has also had to learn the following:

communicating their knowledge,
asking questions,
learning new vocabulary,
giving focus and attention to a topic or individual for an extended period,
leveraging mastered motor skills to maintain posture, safe body placement, and minimize sensory disruption,
social engagement skills,
emotional regulation,
sorting of important and not important stimuli,
reducing the focus on background noise, and
so much more.

Yes, it is true these skills are necessary for everyone to learn. But, if we get really honest, for most of us, these are skills we possess so automatically that they occur as naturally as breathing. There may be one or two we are refining, but in general, they are natural. In fact, when we use terms like “significant disability” or “complex needs,” we are actually trying to convey in a few words, that this is a student who will need all of these skills in addition to content.

“In addition”…aha, that means more, and so, again, I will say it but this time in a short, succinct way:

Students with complex needs learn more.

And so, I ask you, would you agree that indeed, students with complex needs learn more? And wouldn’t you also agree, we need to applaud their incredible tenacity, integration of skills, and accomplishments, not in the name of empathy, but in awe.

Students with significant cognitive disabilities or complex needs are a challenge to teach, because they challenge us to learn a lot. And yet, we are typically not learning even half as much as they do each day. It is for this reason that I am in awe of their courage, grace, knowledge, and skills. And, I am constantly humbled by their dedication to continued learning every day.