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.

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.

Words Matter

One of the biggest lies I was told as a child is the saying,

“Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me.”

Words do hurt…a lot. Words can cause wounds that never heal, festering just below the surface like a toxic infection.

Words do matter.

Each year additional words are added to the dictionary as a result of common use in the culture. But what if we worked to systematically eliminate hurtful, pain-inducing words? I would like to nominate 3 words to be the first to be eliminated: nonverbal, inclusion, and can’t.

Nonverbal is misleading and inaccurate. All humans communicate, it is just that some are using a language that is not shared with the listener. Think about the experience of watching two young toddlers who are babbling, but not using more than a few understood English words. The two babies will babble to each other, interacting for an extended time, and often engaging in other activities together side-by-side. They are communicating something, but they are doing so in a language their parents don’t understand.

I have had students whose disability limits or restricts verbal speech. However, after getting to know the student, the para, peers, and I could understand the individual’s various facial expressions, gestures, or other sounds. We were communicating, albite in an unconventional manner. You see, no one is actually, completely, and fully nonverbal. Non-speech, non-signed language, or some other qualifier, but they are not fully nonverbal.

What about inclusion? Certainly, we need it, right? Wrong. We only have the word inclusion in our vocabulary because we have exclusion in our hearts or minds. Categorizing humans by ranks, castes, cliques, or groups is a sophisticated way to refer to exclusion. If we are all genuinely included, then exclusion becomes meaningless. Doesn’t that sound lovely, a world without exclusion? I continue to hope we will come to a point in our treatment of each other that inclusion, and its converse, exclusion, become meaningless and inconceivable by others. I long for the day that honoring and empowering each other is our culture.

Finally, I urge everyone to remove the word can’t from their vocabulary. Can’t is only true if you let it be so. The implication and unintended consequence of using the word “can’t” is that someone believes you. This is a large world full of possibilities. There is no room for can’t in the middle of possibility. I instead, true to use the phrase, “not currently.” For example, my child is not currently speaking. Or this young student is not currently reading independently.

These are three words that hurt my heart each time I hear them. I would love to know which words you would choose to eliminate and why. Feel free to add your thoughts in the comments and begin the work of eliminating words.

By the way, here is a blog with some other recommended words to eliminate if you are interested in a writer’s viewpoint.

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.