The Treasure Hunter

When I decided to describe the special education program we created in our schools in a small Oregon school district it was because it was so different—and far better for the children involved—than what exists in Georgia today. I was appalled by what was described about Georgia’s segregated schools for disabled students, and so proud of the program we created, that I wanted to shout about it from the housetops. However, over the past couple of days I realized that I was giving much more information about our program than most readers would need or want to know. But, since it was too late to cut off my story in the middle, I finished it here, below. I hope that among my readers there are still some people who are interested in programs for disabled children in our public schools.

 From the beginning, our special Needs Program was supported by the structures and practices that already existed in our schools. Our elementary classrooms were mixed-grade, and classrooms at all levels included children of varied abilities and interests. The K-8 curriculum we developed was flexible and project-centered. To teach it we used tradebooks and reference books at various reading levels–no textbooks. Inside classrooms the furniture arrangements were informal and inviting, and the restrictions on student time and movement were few.

For the most part teachers taught small groups of students, brought together for a specific purpose and dissolved after the goals were reached. Large group instruction was used mainly for modeling new assignments or strategies that everyone needed to know or making changes in classroom rules or procedures.

All students—including special needs children– were expected to work with a partner much of the time, acting as collaborators, reciprocal tutors and critics. Everyone was evaluated on his or her own progress, effort, and ingenuity. When some students had difficulties that got in the way of learning, teachers worked out individual plans to help them succeed.

Rarely did we retain any students in grade. It seemed better to promote them and arrange to teach what they needed over the next year in a mixed grade classroom. For us “standards” meant that we expected the best from each student within the range of their abilities and experiences, not a fixed quantity or quality of work

Using this foundation we designed appropriate programs for each special needs student. Late in each school year teachers would assign students to classrooms for the coming year. Their goal was to create good academic and social combinations everywhere, yet also to keep the total number of special needs students in any classroom manageable.

In addition to classroom teachers, who were the plan managers for special needs students, some special needs students needed an adult friend at school. We did our best to find mentors within our staff who had the time and willingness to develop a relationship with such children. In most situations it was enough for the mentor to make regular contact and show interest in the child’s life, but a few needed more in terms of time and attention. So our special education teacher took on those hard cases, doing such things as playing board games during recesses with a boy who had trouble controlling his temper on the playground or eating lunch with a girl who was ignored at home.

Since children with disabilities often have trouble making and keeping friends, mentors also spent time talking about, modeling, and rehearsing social skills. In addition we adopted a device called “A circle of Friends” to help children enlarge and strengthen their social world.

Because we never had the time or the skills to do a formal study of our program, we based our evaluations on what we could see in the actions of students, teachers, and parents. What was clear after the first year of operation was that the people affected liked the new program better than the old traditional system. Our only “hard data” were records of detentions, suspensions, and expulsions. Over the first three years of program operation those records showed dramatic improvements. In the first year only three students received severe disciplinary actions, and over the following two years no one needed such actions.

One thing was certain—though it may be indelicate to say so—we saved a significant amount of school funds by using the new program. Educational assistants came cheaper than special education teachers, and having only regular classrooms was cheaper than also providing special education classrooms. Although economy was never one of our goals, we were pleased to have more money to spend on enriching the new program and expanding the school library, art classes, and extracurricular opportunities for all students.

An article in the Huffington Post last month, authored by Rebecca Klein, described the system of special schools for disabled students in Georgia and the lawsuit recently filed against the state by the U.S. Department of Justice. That article triggered my desire to post a piece I wrote many years ago about the system we created when I was the principal of a small rural school district in Oregon. In two episodes—because what I want to say is very long–I will summarize the situation in Georgia and describe our special education program.

The Huffington Post article tells of a lawsuit the federal government has recently filed against the state of Georgia for violating the principles of the American Disabilities Act (ADA). Georgia places all students classified as “disabled” in segregated schools where they never mix with ordinary students and are denied the educational and recreational opportunities available in regular schools.

The suit also claims that the schools for disabled students are poorly maintained and often lack grade-level instruction, certified teachers, electives, and any extracurricular activities. In addition, an investigation by The Atlanta Journal Constitution found that the numbers of African American students are disproportionate when compared to the state population.

Even more upsetting is the fact that disabled students are sometimes abused in those segregated schools. Some students have been restrained with leashes and placed in solitary confinement rooms for misbehavior. In 2004, a 13 year old boy hanged himself in such a room, which had no windows or furniture. He had been placed there 19 times over 29 days.

Although none of the situations described above existed in our schools, the teachers and I were not happy with the structure of our program for disabled students. We believed that there must be something better than having children drifting in and out of remedial classrooms all day long, not involved with anything, not belonging anywhere. If they were placed in regular classrooms we figured that they would at least have a chance at being regular kids. We decided it was time to make some significant changes.

Before designing anything new, we closed our special education rooms and put all our disabled students back in regular classrooms for the time being. We wanted to see what those students really needed in the way of instruction and support. Although our new program took a long time evolving, we were convinced that our special Ed students benefitted from the instruction, acceptance, content richness, and creative opportunities they found in the mainstream.

The special needs program we created grew out of a general philosophy that views all children as developing—yet always whole–human beings, whose cognitive, affective, moral, and physical sides must work together to make sense and value out of their experiences. Normal children learn by bringing a combination of faculties to bear on tasks they believe they can do and see as worth doing. We found no reason to adopt a different philosophy for students with disabilities, who are essentially the same as their ordinary peers except that they have more trouble getting all their parts to work in harmony. That is the all the more reason why they need coherence in curriculum and instruction.

Based on our beliefs we decided that our program would no longer be a separate, specialized system, but an array of small, purposeful variations in regular education provided for every child who needed them. We also decided to implement those variations in regular classrooms, and only distinguish disabled students from ordinary students to the extent required by law.

We would keep all grouping within classrooms pragmatic, socially acceptable, fluid, and unstigmatized. If, for example, we had to separate two children for their own good, we would keep the time and distance of such a separation as small as possible and consider it a necessity rather than a punishment.

We also decided to use our disability specialists in regular classrooms working with those students who needed extra help, whether or not they were classified as Disabled. We wanted everyone to see that what those teachers did was just plain good teaching, and also wanted specialists and regular teachers to learn from each other.

The specifics of our new Special Education program will be described in my next post two days from now. In the meantime, have a pleasant Labor Day.

I haven’t written anything this week because I’ve been busy having fun with my sister who is visiting from New Jersey. Fortunately, I have been saved from complete inactivity by a friend, Doug Garnett, who is a parent, businessman, and member of Oregon Save Our Schools.  He is the author of  the article below which contains important information for all readers, but especially for Oregonians.

Every fall, Oregon leaders wail and rend their clothes when the annual state-by-state report on high school graduation rates is released. After all, each year Oregon ranks no higher than 40th lowest out of 50 states.

These politicians, state education bureaucrats, and newspaper writers tell us the report means our schools (and students) are bad. And they trot out the latest magic bureaucratic powders promising make every child above average.

But it’s time to take a deep breath and think a little more clearly about graduation rates. Because this has been going on for so long it’s time to question what the report really means.

First, graduation rates are a problem – but a major societal problem. In today’s job market it is virtually impossible to get a job (any job) without a high school diploma.

That means every time a school denies a diploma, or a student fails to make their way through the bureaucratic maze of high school requirements, that student will struggle to get a first job, much less establish financial independence.

This is a very human problem for society.

State-by-state graduation reports are misleading. None of Oregon’s politicians, bureaucrats nor even the Oregonian take time to stop to figure out whether it’s valid to compare graduation rates between states. I suppose they assume that common sense says “high school diploma” means the same thing everywhere.

But it doesn’t. “High school graduation” means something different in every state in the union.

What does graduation mean in other states? Many states offer 4, 5, or even 6 types of high school diplomas. Many offer life credits or reduced requirements with students receiving these different flavors of diploma.

These diplomas aren’t offered to drive up their rankings in these reports (although that’s probably a nice benefit). Published interviews with officials from those other states note how critical it is for students to have diplomas simply to find employment. And that it’s the school’s job to respond to society.

What about Oregon? In Oregon, we have one primary graduation option — the full diploma. Up until last year, Oregon only reported full diplomas in our reports to the US Department of Education. Oregon also issues “modified diplomas” for special education students (I have a son who is on the modified diploma track).

Prior to 2015, modified diplomas had never been reported by Oregon as a “graduation” even though most other states did report them. When Oregon finally changed, our graduation rate jumped by about two percentage points from 70% to 72%. Not bad for correcting a reporting error.

Yet, today these are the only two options possible in Oregon. After tracking this issue for some time, this limit puts Oregon low on the list – NOT weaknesses in our schools. And that means politicians are messing with schools every year based on false data.

Does a single diploma option even make sense? When I came to this realization, I started really pondering a fundamental question: what should a diploma indicate?

It strikes me as odd to demand that the future physicist or mathematician meet the same requirements as the future writer or musician who also meet the same requirements as the future machinist or army ranger.

These requirements seem based on an idealized 1950’s view of 4-year high school. They also seem to assume a diploma must mean “ready for college” – a silly criterion given that the majority of kids won’t go to a 4 year institutions.

I’m not suggesting we “weaken” requirements. Rather, Oregon would be stronger if we created ways kids earn diplomas doing things that are most appropriate and meaningful for their future. A one-size-fits-all diploma doesn’t do this.

For example, not all high school grads need algebra (nor do most college grads). Yet it is required throughout our system. (I wish that K12 and colleges would align requirements with student needs instead of being driven by the University need to establish higher positioning on the US News Rankings.)

And if a student’s intelligence lies outside the classic academic track, they should have options in areas more appropriate to their nature – like woodworking, automotive, business, marketing, health, etc… And THOSE classes should be able to replace fundamentals currently required by the state.

But I started with a headline about insanity. Why insanity?

 Politicians, ODE and the Oregonian fit perfectly the old saw…that doing the same thing but expecting different results is insanity.

Every year they see the same results. Every year they wring their hands. Every year they demand that we impose drastic changes that hurt schools.

It’s time to stop the insanity. It’s time to re-think what a high school diploma should mean. And, it’s time to create a wider range of diploma options for Oregon students because it’s important to society.

Around here school starts for k-12 students on Thursday, September 1st. I’ve been thinking about how I would start the first week of school if I were a teacher today. It’s somewhat different from what I did so many years ago when I was an elementary level teacher because times have changed, and I’ve learned some things along the way. Remember, readers that these are just my thoughts  based on what I remember of my own teaching and my work as a principal, and they may very well not be appropriate for your school or your personal philosophy of teaching. I would like to hear what some teachers practicing today think of my plans.

Like all teachers I see the first week of school not only as a time for teachers and students to get acquainted, but also a time to set the patterns of operation for the whole year. Because there is so much to be communicated to students the first day, I will list the actions I see as most important and describe them briefly, rather than get into full descriptions or explanations of why I chose them. Here’s my plan.

Greetings: I will  meet and greet students at the classroom door and hand each a sheet of paper with a one page essay about myself that is appropriate for the age of my students: my name and contact information, a brief -–and not too personal—autobiography, and a description of how I will teach and manage the classroom. On the screen in front of the classroom I have posted a message about where students should sit for now, do with their back packs, lunches and anything else they’ve brought with them. I will not assign any permanent seats in the first weekof school, but wait until the students and I have decided where is a good place for them to listen and learn.

Introductions: Once everyone is seated and quiet, I will tell the class that the first week of school is the time for us to get acquainted, not only as class members, but also as unique individuals with different abilities and interests. I will ask older students to read my autobiography silently or read it aloud to younger children. Afterward,  I will ask for questions and answer those that are not too personal. Next, older students will write their own biographies, using mine as a guide, while younger ones will be asked to tell some things about themselves to the class. Since it will take me a while to remember students’ names, I’ll pass out blank name cards for older students and filled out ones for the young kids. Students need to place the cards where I can read them easily over the coming week.

Getting Down to Business: The next step is explaining basic classroom rules, and practicing those that require movement or immediately stopping to listen. I’ll try to keep those rules few and simple, and tell students that we can change any of them later on if they don’t work well or are unnecessary. After that, I’ll ask students if they want to suggest any other rules. We will hold a class discussion and accept those that the majority thinks are needed. Finally, we’ll practice those rules that involve everyone at once, such as walking in line or stopping work and conversation when I ask for attention.

Necessary Actions: If there are books or other materials that we will need right away, I’ll pass them out now and explain how they will be used. I will also acquaint students with any special places in the classroom, such as the computer area, and explain when and how to use them.

Taking a Break: It feels like time for a recess, lunch or a classroom game to me.

Begin Classwork: I plan to leave time enough on that first day for a short, simple, lesson that includes a bit of homework. My purpose is to give students an idea of how teaching and learning will operate in this classroom.

Communicating with Parents: At the end of the first day I will hand out an information sheet for students to give to their parents. It will include a very brief description of my teaching/learning philosophy, what I expect of student attendance and behavior, how and when I can be reached if there is a parent concern, and a calendar for the school year.

Ending the Day: Since I believe that students, even the youngest ones, need a sense of closure, we’ll all work on cleaning up and getting the things going home collected. Then we will sing a song or recite a verse that fits with the end of a happy day. Students will leave the room while I say good-bye at the classroom door. For me the rest of the  school day is determined by the school district and/or my principal.

It’s been a while since I was able to report any good news about education.  But today I am writing  about some good things happening in Pennsylvania. The information about legislation in Pennsylvania that will improve school conditions for students with diabetes was reported in a blog post  and the article about the change in rules for suspending young children was published in the Philadelphia Inquirer. 

The air must be good in Pennsylvania, especially in the Philadelphia area. Early this summer the state legislature passed legislation ensuring that all children with diabetes will be medically safe at school, and just last week the Philadelphia School Reform Commission voted to ban most suspensions for kindergartners and all suspensions for students who violated their school dress code. In both decisions we see common sense and compassion for children overcoming the biases often ruling in public education today.

Over the past several years public schools and charter schools all over the country have neglected or formally refused to provide services for children with diabetes. In a few cases such children were denied school admission altogether. Those situations emerged when schools reduced their nurses’ time or eliminated their jobs completely because of inadequate school funding.

Under the new Pennsylvania law, however, school staff members will be trained to recognize diabetic emergencies and provide the proper care. Also, students with diabetes will be allowed to participate in all school-sponsored activities, and capable students will be allowed to self-manage their own diabetes.

Philadelphia’s rule change on suspensions offers reasonableness and compassion to all elementary school students. Up until now huge numbers of children have been suspended for minor or even involuntary actions. Last year 448 kindergartners, 500 first graders, and 1900 second graders were suspended from schools. Ninety percent of those suspensions were for non-violent misbehavior that included not wearing a school uniform.

In citing these examples of changed school policies I must add that they weren’t needed in the previous century. Almost all schools had full time nurses, and most of those that didn’t had someone trained and willing to take care of students with diabetis whenever necessary. Suspensions were extremely rare in elementary and middle schools, and most often were ordered because parents had not responded to previous notifications of student misbehavior.

Please understand that schools were not necessarily better and more compassionate in those times. They were just less likely to be publically criticized or sued for negligence or miss-treatment of students.  Moreover, whatever a teacher or principal did or said was right in the eyes of parents, and none of them thought of complaining, much less demanding special services for their children or moving them to a private school.

What has happened is a widespread decline in respect for public schools that began with the release of “A Nation at Risk” in 1983 and continued.  Most Americans now believe that our schools are inferior to those in foreign countries and that a school’s low test scores are indisputable proof of teacher incompetence.  As a result,“reforming” our schools has become a major project of the federal government, a popular topic of newspaper critics, busy work for state legislatures, and a great source of profit for educational consultants, test makers, textbook publishers, and charter schools.  Most of the reforms, such as “No Child Left Behind”, have failed.  But occasionally, good things happen, like the ones I have noted in this post. Those among us who understand what good education is must keep on supporting small steps in the right direction and working tirelessly to get more of the same.