On Tuesday we watched the Brene Brown TED talk, 'The Power of Vulnerability.' I wasn't especially hooked by it. I watched it with interest and an open mind, and it's not like she said anything I didn't agree with, it's just that I didn't feel like I left the class on a higher plane. If anything, I'd say she was stating the obvious: you can't feel joy without feeling vulnerable. True.
I think of it in the context of my wife or my baby. I love them to a great degree, but that love would really not mean anything, it wouldn't even exist, without being vulnerable to losing that. I think some physicist/mathematician guy named Newton put it in terms of equal and opposite forces. No disrespect to Brown.
We did a lot on Tuesday, actually. I'll talk about a couple of more things. What do I dare remember? What don't I dare remember? This was an interesting exercise. I just started writing and all of a sudden it was time to stop (that was only 5, and not 10 minutes, Rob!). I had spewed some garble about being known for wearing cat pants in elementary school - I wore the all the time - my mom sewed them for me ... multiple pairs.
Now that I've been able to digest that inquiry a little longer, I'll share some of my thoughts on my own experiences with inclusion in school, specifically middle school.
You reminded us that it is when people are asked about inclusion that the whopper stories about exclusion come to light. I tried to avoid anymore stuff about feeling excluded, but I didn't seem to have a lot in the memory bank about my positive experiences with inclusion. Were they just not substantial enough, or were they not present at all? Perhaps inclusion for a middle school person is equivalent to feeling a little less excluded than usual.
Here is what you need to know: I lived in Bower. The designated school for the area was Piper Creek. My mom sent us all to Grandview; we had a history with that school. At home in the neighbourhood of Bower I played with Mark who was my age and attended Piper Creek. Kids in Bower went, after completion of grade 6 (this was the last year that grade 6 was in the elementary schools), to West Park Middle School. Off we went - and I only knew one guy: Mark. It turns out he was unpopular to his peers. That was it for me. I never stood a chance - I was unpopular by association.
One way or another I held my own. I went to school, went to class, and just did my thing. Some days were better than others. I made other friends - we were bound together in our unpopularity. Sometimes we had to throw each other under the bus so as not to look quite so pathetic in the eyes of the more popular kids.
I knew I was a decent guy; I didn't have a lot to add, but I didn't have a lot to take away from anyone either. I would get hints of approval from the popular people. It was almost as though they were sorry that I was a loser by association and that they know it's not my fault. "Too bad you're not cool, man, you'd be an alright cool guy." Somehow, I always knew I'd be alright, so I just kept chugging through middle school.
Toward the end of this particular era, all of the eighth graders were to go on a field trip to West Edmonton Mall. Purpose: fun. Pfffffffffttthh. Not for my little group. What was supposed to be fun about this? We'll pass, thank you. We decided to fore-go the trip; instead we went to bower mall and got blizzards at Dairy Queen. Big blizzards. KJ got an 'ice-cream migraine' and made a scene on the floor of the mall. It's a valuable memory.
What is interesting about this tale to me as I really think about it is that nary a teacher or administrator batted an eye about the bunch of us electing not to go with our classmates on a farewell trip to the funnest mall ever. No one dug in the slightest to uncover our motivation. We never felt like we belonged with the entire rest of our class, and that was a product of two years of a seemingly non-existent sense of community within that school. I don't fault the teachers for this, but I can see that if the staff don't lead the school on the path to a safe, communal feeling in a school - well, the kids more times than not will fail to succeed in doing so themselves.
Another big thing came out of Class # 10 for me. One of those 'stick with you' types of things. Sometimes I can go for a couple of classes, or a month, or even a whole course without really taking anything especially valid or meaningful, and then all of sudden something just *sticks.* (Please let me clarify that this is not the first valid point for me in your class in the last week, month, or term, Nellis).
"The greatest predictor of academic success for a child is the academic success of the parents."
Well I'll be damned. OF COURSE! It makes so much sense, but why? One might speculate (I certainly to) that it is because a child is a little miniature version of his parents. They raise him to do all of the things they like and to not do all of the things that they are opposed to. "Say thank you!" "Apologize." "We don't hit"
And after all of that training, the young apprentice of his parents has ingrained in him the similar 'ways of life' and the factory of society continues to churn out representatives of generations past.
My mom often tells me that she remembers me telling her and my dad when I was in high school that they may as well quit bothering me to get A's - I knew that I was capable of doing it, but I didn't feel like it. I was just going to do what I needed to do to finish high school and I'd do it my way - I'm sure I'll be fine. Interestingly enough, I re-entered the education system as a mature college student after taking the better part of a decade off. More interesting yet: this is the time line of both my parents' education as well.
A reason that particular mention (academic success indicator) caught my attention is because it is so stifling. We are all sitting in class, having discussions and dreaming out loud about how we are going to have an inclusive classroom and make sure that every student reaches their full potential, when suddenly we hear that it's actually statistically supported that we need only look as far as the parents to get an idea of what to expect the child's success level to be. It's scary because it takes away an element of control which we may have never had in the first place.
It made me think of this old ditty which actually came out when I was in grade 9. It's a very 'you'll be just like your parents' song. Close your office door, crank it up, and shout along!
"You know it's never going to end; the same old cycle's going to start again. What goes around, well, it comes around"
http://youtu.be/Xsp8DmgtjHY
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
On the Brighter Side
I most recently let loose my disdainful stance on inclusive education. But it's not all bad - let's explore that a little further.
Habermas would probably label me 'Situational Interpretive,' and that's great because I wouldn't want him to label me as any other. I really do feel that we're chasing our tails when we look at inclusive education from a 'critical theoretic' standpoint. Similarly with 'empirical analytic,' I simply cannot accept an all-encompassing viewpoint (or statistic) about inclusive education when I know that it is a field that is comprised of countless individuals. This might explain why I don't believe there will ever be a general protocol in the education system that works for all involved - there will always be individuals who just don't fit the mould.
To begin to accept that we are moving toward an inclusive system, teachers need to remind themselves to look at the bigger picture. Who says that emphasis on curricular outcomes need be the same for every student? I'm getting ahead of myself. ***
Cindy in Eastview's LAC offered some suggestions as to why we are moving into this system. Some were head-shakingly pessimistic, others were a little more positive such as that students with special needs will be surrounded by models of good behaviour when they are in regular classrooms. She also said that kids learn better in a regular classroom, but the critical thinker in me has no idea what basis that lies in.
A comment that really made an impression on me in support of inclusive education was from Lavoie's 'Beyond FAT City' video when he said that "self esteem has to come from regular educators." This made a lot of sense because he explained it in the context that students in special needs classrooms know that they will be graded as successful, more or less regardless of their academic achievement. The grades and the praise from special educators has become meaningless to them - it is praise and success in a regular classroom that they yearn for.
Going back to my ***ed paragraph, I can absolutely see the validity of the movement to inclusion for social reasons and for purposes of self esteem. After talking to so many educators during observation week, I left with a sense that they are very concerned about inclusion because of these students' inabilities to keep up with work and meet curricular outcomes. One can't blame them for this; a teacher's job is to teach the curriculum (that's their job on the surface of a nutshell, anyway) and the inclusion movement threatens teachers' success levels in this arena. But if we can shift our thinking, as life asks us to do now and then, to an ideal that we are teachers not only of curriculum but also the grand concept of life skills, maybe then we can be more accepting of having students in the classroom who will present new challenges. We can understand that we will be able to teach curriculum thoroughly to the majority of the class and we will do our best to teach curriculum to students with special needs at the same time. We can take comfort and pride that just being in a regular classroom might be one of the most valuable learning experiences a student has ever been subject to!
I may have just inadvertently explained this from a critical-theoretic standpoint, but I assure you that I am insistently situational. One could be very lost as a teacher in an inclusive classroom if there weren't always resources in place to help when help is needed! The ideas I've described above can't be beneficial to absolutely everyone; nothing can be beneficial to everyone! In a general sense, I do like the idea that students with special needs will have an enriched education by being in the mainstream, but some of those students might just be too disruptive to a classroom for learning to occur for everyone else. Some students might learn far better in a quiet setting where one on one help is always available.
Now I'm chasing my tail! Whatever; it's all situational.
Habermas would probably label me 'Situational Interpretive,' and that's great because I wouldn't want him to label me as any other. I really do feel that we're chasing our tails when we look at inclusive education from a 'critical theoretic' standpoint. Similarly with 'empirical analytic,' I simply cannot accept an all-encompassing viewpoint (or statistic) about inclusive education when I know that it is a field that is comprised of countless individuals. This might explain why I don't believe there will ever be a general protocol in the education system that works for all involved - there will always be individuals who just don't fit the mould.
To begin to accept that we are moving toward an inclusive system, teachers need to remind themselves to look at the bigger picture. Who says that emphasis on curricular outcomes need be the same for every student? I'm getting ahead of myself. ***
Cindy in Eastview's LAC offered some suggestions as to why we are moving into this system. Some were head-shakingly pessimistic, others were a little more positive such as that students with special needs will be surrounded by models of good behaviour when they are in regular classrooms. She also said that kids learn better in a regular classroom, but the critical thinker in me has no idea what basis that lies in.
A comment that really made an impression on me in support of inclusive education was from Lavoie's 'Beyond FAT City' video when he said that "self esteem has to come from regular educators." This made a lot of sense because he explained it in the context that students in special needs classrooms know that they will be graded as successful, more or less regardless of their academic achievement. The grades and the praise from special educators has become meaningless to them - it is praise and success in a regular classroom that they yearn for.
Going back to my ***ed paragraph, I can absolutely see the validity of the movement to inclusion for social reasons and for purposes of self esteem. After talking to so many educators during observation week, I left with a sense that they are very concerned about inclusion because of these students' inabilities to keep up with work and meet curricular outcomes. One can't blame them for this; a teacher's job is to teach the curriculum (that's their job on the surface of a nutshell, anyway) and the inclusion movement threatens teachers' success levels in this arena. But if we can shift our thinking, as life asks us to do now and then, to an ideal that we are teachers not only of curriculum but also the grand concept of life skills, maybe then we can be more accepting of having students in the classroom who will present new challenges. We can understand that we will be able to teach curriculum thoroughly to the majority of the class and we will do our best to teach curriculum to students with special needs at the same time. We can take comfort and pride that just being in a regular classroom might be one of the most valuable learning experiences a student has ever been subject to!
I may have just inadvertently explained this from a critical-theoretic standpoint, but I assure you that I am insistently situational. One could be very lost as a teacher in an inclusive classroom if there weren't always resources in place to help when help is needed! The ideas I've described above can't be beneficial to absolutely everyone; nothing can be beneficial to everyone! In a general sense, I do like the idea that students with special needs will have an enriched education by being in the mainstream, but some of those students might just be too disruptive to a classroom for learning to occur for everyone else. Some students might learn far better in a quiet setting where one on one help is always available.
Now I'm chasing my tail! Whatever; it's all situational.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
On Observation Week
Hi Rob.
I sure did get significantly jerked in the direction of 'against' on the spectrum of inclusion over observation week! Let me tell you about it.
Brent and Julia would so often say that Eastview was the most middle-school-school of all the 'middle schools' in Red Deer. I was very excited to find myself there for my inaugural practicum experience. Our team of Cory, Rickee and I observed a diversity of students in a diversity of classes within our first couple of days. We saw well behaved kids, quiet kids, noisy kids, invasive-of-other-peoples'-bubbles kids, kids in wheelchairs, kids with ADHD and kids who we knew were on some sort of behaviour-changing medication; it was inclusive education at work! er, wasn't it?
Maybe not. After a couple of times hearing mutterings on the inevitable coming of inclusive education by our host of mentors, we opted to dig a little deeper. To learn more, we visited the 'Horizons' 8th grade math class. My goodness! 25 students who excitedly sank their teeth into fraction multiplication tore it apart, practically salivating for more fraction operations. The meatier, the more difficult, the better. They did in 20 minutes what the 'regular' 8th grade math class would plow through in a week. No, I'm not (exaggerating).
Wouldn't all those students get bored in the mainstream classes?
Next, we visited the Learning Assistance Center (LAC), a quiet room upstairs where students can get a little space, quiet time, technological assistance, or one on one help from one of the facilitators. Usually a very busy nook, we arrived to a vacant LAC. This was fortunate as we were able to sit and talk with the staff in the LAC for the better part of an hour.
It wasn't especially uplifting. They were concerned about a disconnect with the rest of the teaching staff regarding the purpose of the LAC. They had seen a lot of behavioural issues sent their way. They aren't there for that. A lot of students would show up at the door, and when they were asked what they needed help with they had no answer. There is a system in place which uses a yellow form which the teacher fills out questions such as "what does the student need help with?" but the answer could often be scant: math, reading, homework. Not a great start for the facility which is supposed to be next year's brace for the big inclusion movement!
We asked them why the government has taken this turn toward inclusion. Isn't the system doing the best it can right now? It seems to be working; not perfectly, but pretty well...?
They offered a lot of loose suggestions: it's cheaper to have 15 students spread out among the classrooms(which already have teachers) rather than have them all in one room with 2 staff. They'll learn better in a regular classroom. There are models of good behaviour and good social skills in the classroom.
They told us that this was reminiscent of 30 years ago and that in their opinion it hadn't really worked that time either. They were skeptical of this inclusion movement, but grinning and bracing for it all the same.
That was a humbling yet calming conversation we had with those LAC staff. It did strengthen the notion that we are just trying to do what is best for the students, but that school staff each have concerns about the blanketing protocols that are about to set in.
We were less concerned about the quick-thinking 'Horizons' group after we spent an hour in the 'Strategies' classroom. Here we saw 6 students work with one teacher on their 7th grade math. They were working with clock terminology - specifically 'quarter to,' 'quarter past,' and 'half past.' They had began this topic the day before, and the students never had a handle on it by the time their class was over. Clock terminology was simply beyond their ability at this point.
What will happen when we put students from the main stream, Horizons and Strategies in one inclusive classroom? Find out next year!
My next blog will be about the positives I see in this concept of inclusion, and they do exist, but I can clearly see some reasons why teachers at Eastview are a little apprehensive about what they will face next year in their classrooms.
I sure did get significantly jerked in the direction of 'against' on the spectrum of inclusion over observation week! Let me tell you about it.
Brent and Julia would so often say that Eastview was the most middle-school-school of all the 'middle schools' in Red Deer. I was very excited to find myself there for my inaugural practicum experience. Our team of Cory, Rickee and I observed a diversity of students in a diversity of classes within our first couple of days. We saw well behaved kids, quiet kids, noisy kids, invasive-of-other-peoples'-bubbles kids, kids in wheelchairs, kids with ADHD and kids who we knew were on some sort of behaviour-changing medication; it was inclusive education at work! er, wasn't it?
Maybe not. After a couple of times hearing mutterings on the inevitable coming of inclusive education by our host of mentors, we opted to dig a little deeper. To learn more, we visited the 'Horizons' 8th grade math class. My goodness! 25 students who excitedly sank their teeth into fraction multiplication tore it apart, practically salivating for more fraction operations. The meatier, the more difficult, the better. They did in 20 minutes what the 'regular' 8th grade math class would plow through in a week. No, I'm not (exaggerating).
Wouldn't all those students get bored in the mainstream classes?
Next, we visited the Learning Assistance Center (LAC), a quiet room upstairs where students can get a little space, quiet time, technological assistance, or one on one help from one of the facilitators. Usually a very busy nook, we arrived to a vacant LAC. This was fortunate as we were able to sit and talk with the staff in the LAC for the better part of an hour.
It wasn't especially uplifting. They were concerned about a disconnect with the rest of the teaching staff regarding the purpose of the LAC. They had seen a lot of behavioural issues sent their way. They aren't there for that. A lot of students would show up at the door, and when they were asked what they needed help with they had no answer. There is a system in place which uses a yellow form which the teacher fills out questions such as "what does the student need help with?" but the answer could often be scant: math, reading, homework. Not a great start for the facility which is supposed to be next year's brace for the big inclusion movement!
We asked them why the government has taken this turn toward inclusion. Isn't the system doing the best it can right now? It seems to be working; not perfectly, but pretty well...?
They offered a lot of loose suggestions: it's cheaper to have 15 students spread out among the classrooms(which already have teachers) rather than have them all in one room with 2 staff. They'll learn better in a regular classroom. There are models of good behaviour and good social skills in the classroom.
They told us that this was reminiscent of 30 years ago and that in their opinion it hadn't really worked that time either. They were skeptical of this inclusion movement, but grinning and bracing for it all the same.
That was a humbling yet calming conversation we had with those LAC staff. It did strengthen the notion that we are just trying to do what is best for the students, but that school staff each have concerns about the blanketing protocols that are about to set in.
We were less concerned about the quick-thinking 'Horizons' group after we spent an hour in the 'Strategies' classroom. Here we saw 6 students work with one teacher on their 7th grade math. They were working with clock terminology - specifically 'quarter to,' 'quarter past,' and 'half past.' They had began this topic the day before, and the students never had a handle on it by the time their class was over. Clock terminology was simply beyond their ability at this point.
What will happen when we put students from the main stream, Horizons and Strategies in one inclusive classroom? Find out next year!
My next blog will be about the positives I see in this concept of inclusion, and they do exist, but I can clearly see some reasons why teachers at Eastview are a little apprehensive about what they will face next year in their classrooms.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Today we watched William Ury's TED talk. He presented a general idea of how to stop war on the planet through a vehicle of hospitality and tourism. It was pretty wild. There are different ways to interpret his talk, and I'll get to that, but as I sat down to write this blog I thought about how in many classes, we are presented with material and then immediately asked for our thoughts (even though today we had ample time to discuss it groups) and how I often feel on the spot with that sort of thing. I use this as a springboard to express the value I place on having this blog to come to, where I can just type and type and type - it really helps me figure out what I think!
Ury wasn't off his rocker; something that he did which hit home for me was his simple comparison of the present middle east to WWII stricken Europe. I am definitely excited to see, over the next 60 years, if we as a world can figure out how to fix our broken parts. But I digress.
More pertinent to me is Ury's 'balcony' from which we can gain a different perspective on our most every struggle, no matter how big or small. We talked about this in class and I left feeling like I just wanted to go out into the world and focus on perspectives and goals rather than rooted positions. I'll always take Ury's balcony with me so that I can always have a 'third side' to look at things from.
When we moved on to the discussion of how Ury could apply to our case study from the previous week, I felt like we came full circle to the idea that inclusive education is very situational. This could be construed as frustrating, but it isn't, because I think that the 'third side/balcony' idea was a refreshing way to step back and revisit how we approach a lot, if not all, of our conflicts in life. Outstanding!
End thought.
New thought:
I had a thought during class. It started when Nellis (2011:) talked about inclusive education in the Canadian context that although we are seeing an emergence of more students with disabilities taking advantage of the public education system that there remained an issue of underachievement...
A few weeks ago my wife's hormones started shifting slightly back toward what I'm sure we'd define as equilibrium. In the process, her milk supply became slightly stifled - not ideal with a baby of four months. She said that it was very frustrating for her because the baby asks for one thing: milk - she wasn't able to provide that for her and it caused her to question her ability as a mother, even though she cognitively and consciously knew that this wasn't being called into question at all. This situation, for the record, cleared its self up and all is well.
This was, in my opinion, a parallel story to why so many of us get our backs up about inclusive education: we are afraid that we won't be able to properly fulfil our role as a teacher.
So often it has been repeated in our semester that we need to look at ourselves and our own behaviour as teachers, but mostly this has been in the context of classroom management. Evidently it is just as applicable in IE. If I was a teacher, I think that I would be apprehensive to learn that I will have a full time student in my classroom who is disabled - it changes everything! Wouldn't it be easier to just... not have that student in my classroom? Probably. But the new question for me today is what am I so afraid of?
Ury wasn't off his rocker; something that he did which hit home for me was his simple comparison of the present middle east to WWII stricken Europe. I am definitely excited to see, over the next 60 years, if we as a world can figure out how to fix our broken parts. But I digress.
More pertinent to me is Ury's 'balcony' from which we can gain a different perspective on our most every struggle, no matter how big or small. We talked about this in class and I left feeling like I just wanted to go out into the world and focus on perspectives and goals rather than rooted positions. I'll always take Ury's balcony with me so that I can always have a 'third side' to look at things from.
When we moved on to the discussion of how Ury could apply to our case study from the previous week, I felt like we came full circle to the idea that inclusive education is very situational. This could be construed as frustrating, but it isn't, because I think that the 'third side/balcony' idea was a refreshing way to step back and revisit how we approach a lot, if not all, of our conflicts in life. Outstanding!
End thought.
New thought:
I had a thought during class. It started when Nellis (2011:) talked about inclusive education in the Canadian context that although we are seeing an emergence of more students with disabilities taking advantage of the public education system that there remained an issue of underachievement...
A few weeks ago my wife's hormones started shifting slightly back toward what I'm sure we'd define as equilibrium. In the process, her milk supply became slightly stifled - not ideal with a baby of four months. She said that it was very frustrating for her because the baby asks for one thing: milk - she wasn't able to provide that for her and it caused her to question her ability as a mother, even though she cognitively and consciously knew that this wasn't being called into question at all. This situation, for the record, cleared its self up and all is well.
This was, in my opinion, a parallel story to why so many of us get our backs up about inclusive education: we are afraid that we won't be able to properly fulfil our role as a teacher.
So often it has been repeated in our semester that we need to look at ourselves and our own behaviour as teachers, but mostly this has been in the context of classroom management. Evidently it is just as applicable in IE. If I was a teacher, I think that I would be apprehensive to learn that I will have a full time student in my classroom who is disabled - it changes everything! Wouldn't it be easier to just... not have that student in my classroom? Probably. But the new question for me today is what am I so afraid of?
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