Think College

www.thinkcollege.net 

Have you heard?  College IS for everyone.

I have spent the great majority of my teaching career at the elementary school level, teaching students ages 5 years to 13 years old.  Kindergarteners are so young, small, and far from adulthood that it is easy to plan for today, not for their adult life.  And yet, if schools are really doing right by students, we are planning for their transition to adulthood from the minute they arrive until their graduation day.

What happens after graduation?  Researchers have been carefully taking demographic, longitudinal, and census information for years to determine the effectiveness of the public school years for individuals with disabilities.  After all, it isn't about a grade, a project, a course, a final exam.  What schools really are charged with doing is preparing future adults to excel at a job of their choice, be connected to each other through friendships and relationships, and be meaningful participants in society.

Sadly, the data indicates that for individuals with disabilities, we have a long way to go to effectiveness.  You see, for individuals with an IEP, less than 1 in 3 will have a job, part-time or full-time, attend post-secondary schools, or vocational training.  Their life becomes a life of seclusion, days on the couch with little to no contact outside their home. This is not a life I would wish for anyone.

Think College is a bright star of possibility.  Grants and funding options help to make this affordable, and at many schools, free, including housing and food.  Students experience the social, academic, and independent living experiences available to all individuals attending college. I recently went to an event for a Think College program near me and was able to hear from both a student in the program and her ambassador.  It was clear to all, they were not an individual with a disability and a non-disabled peer.  They were friends.  Inside jokes, secret giggles, and looks of genuine compassion flowed easily between them.  As I watched, I made my wish that all who want to,

True Colors

It's National Down Syndrome Awareness month!

One young man created the best tribute possible, one from the heart to his sister. 

Oh the Places You'll Go

 

 

Graduation season has once again come to a close.  I am overcome each year with fond memories of my graduation and excitement for those I love as they begin their journey.  I look back at that moment and remember just how grown-up I felt.  The minute I walked across that stage, I was an adult.  Granted, by law it would be almost 6 more months before I was the magical 18 years old that truly makes one a "grown-up," but I felt as though, going forward, I would be making decisions that adults make.  Where would I live?  What job would I have?  Where would I go to college, if at all?  Who would I date?  What would I eat and when?  You see, when you are 17, those are big thoughts.

But for some, graduation is not full of excitement.  For many, particularly those with significant disabilities, stress and depression sets in.  The routine and support of the school comes to an end.  The time with peers is no longer routine, but forced.  There is a lag between school services and those from other government agencies. 

It doesn't have to be this way.  Communities, employers, and colleges do want all people to be welcomed and valuable members of society.  ALL people.  Granted it may take more planning and thought and the participation may look different but it is possible.  You see, Dr. Seuss wrote his book for everyone.  Let's all build a dream together and make his words come true.

What do you think?

The Perfect Play

This video says it all:

You Tube video, at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Ejh_hb15Fc

Pilgrims

pilgrim |ˈpilgrəm|

noun

a person who journeys to a sacred place for religious reasons.

• (usu. Pilgrim )a member of a group of English Puritans fleeing religious persecution who sailed in the Mayflower and founded the colony of Plymouth, Massachusetts, in 1620.

• a person who travels on long journeys.

verb ( pilgrims, pilgriming, pilgrimed ) [ no obj. ] archaic

travel or wander like a pilgrim.

DERIVATIVES

pilgrimize |-ˌmīz|verb( archaic)

ORIGIN Middle English: from Provençal pelegrin, from Latin peregrinus ‘foreign’ (see peregrine) .

Aren't we all pilgrims?  We are all on a journey of some sort.  A journey towards love.  A journey toward acceptance.  A journey toward knowledge. Each of us can define our life by our journeys.  Some are full of goodness, success, and joy.  For others, they are pilgrim journeys of strife, struggle, and hardtimes.  For most of us, it is a blend of good and bad, easy and difficult.  But for each of us, the journey is the most important part, not the destination.  

Enya wrote a song, Pilgrim, that you may find a map, source of hope, or evidence of camaraderie in our journey.  Embrace the pilgrim in you!

Pilgrim, how you journey
On the road you chose
To find out why the winds die
And where the stories go.

All days come from one day
That much you must know,
You cannot change what's over
But only where you go.

One way leads to diamonds,
One way leads to gold,
Another leads you only
To everything you're told.

In your heart you wonder
Which of these is true;
The road that leads to nowhere,
The road that leads to you.

Will you find the answer
In all you say and do?
Will you find the answer
In you?

Each heart is a pilgrim,
Each one wants to know
The reason why the winds die
And where the stories go.

Pilgrim, in your journey
You may travel far,
For pilgrim it's a long way
To find out who you are...

Pilgrim, it's a long way
To find out who you are...

Pilgrim, it's a long way
To find out who you are...

Labels, Diagnoses, and Definitions

There are campaigns to remove the "R Word" from common language.  This word, for those who are not certain is, "retarded."  When I started in my career, it was a commonly used term.  It was medical or diagnostic when referring to a student's learning difficulties.  The grief parents endured once their child was diagnosed as "retarded" was the same as the grief that parents today go through when their child is diagnosed "severely delayed," "cognitively impaired," "developmentally delayed," "highly impacted by autism," or any of the numerous other diagnoses that say to a parent, your child is not "normal."  The word retarded was not a problem when used medically, the problem was, it became a derogatory word to indicate that someone was an idiot, useless, not worthy, beyond stupid, horrible, or any other negative thing.

Please understand, I am not asking that we keep the word in our vocabulary any more than I am advocating for any other derogatory word to refer to people or communities in a way that places one person higher than another.  We all have weaknesses things we see about ourself each time we look in the mirror and hope no one else sees it.  We all also have gifts, and if we let them, this is what people will see.  But that is another post, another time.

The real problem with the word "retarded" is that, even if we use other terms or phrases, people will still hear "retarded."  If I say to a parent that their student is Intellectually Disabled, they aren't hearing a different story.  Telling your friends that your child was diagnosed "severely delayed," doesn't mean they think it is okay or that the grief they feel for you is any less.

As I see it, one of the problems with the word "retarded" is that we simply don't understand it.  We really don't understand any of these phrases, terms, or diagnoses.  I had a professor during my undergraduate degree in Special Education who challenged us to define the, then prominently used diagnosis, Mental Retardation.  It was fascinating how it was used in books, articles, research, the medical community, the education system, the federal laws, and households and yet, no common definition existed.  It was one of the most memorable assignments and activities I have ever participated in, still.  States and local education units are still trying to do this for all the different labels we use to determine eligibility for services and supports.  You see, people can't be placed perfectly in boxes.  They don't fit labels perfectly.  It is not an exact science.  People are dynamic individuals, whether they are 6 months or 6 years or 60.

So why figure it out?  Because the definition a person has for the diagnosis, label, or category of service   drives the grief, celebration, inclusion, and education of that person.  If the teacher and the parents can talk honestly about what that child's "label" means to them now and in the future, they can then, and only then, work as a true team to support, encourage, and educate that child.  I am not perfect, but I try to have this conversation with each parent, teacher, and paraprofessional that works with a child.  I have more work to do in this area, but I am trying.

To that end, here is my attempt at a definition in regards to the identification and education of children with the diagnosis of what is now referred to as Intellectual Disability.

Intellectual Disability is an impairment in functioning in a social, academic, home, communal and vocational environment due to a neuro-deficit that may be caused by a variety of physical problems or traumas.  Intellectual Disability is a changing, or dynamic, condition and therefore, the settings the individual is in should not limit or restrict growth or exposure to ideas.  Any program or training for the individual should be written for their current needs with the belief that they can and will meet or exceed expectations.

That’s What It's All About

As a Special Education teacher I spend my days planning, teaching, and advocating for a future.  Not my future, the future of my students.  We all talk about, “one day when they are older” or “when they go to  high school” but do we really think about what we want.  I know, you are saying, yes, I think about the students job and living arrangement.  Their social group and how their family will support them.   But do we consider the little things, the moments that we all remember from our high school days but see as small moments.  I have to say, that I forgot the little things. 

Or at least I did until a young man, whom I have been fortunate enough to have in my life the past 12 years reminded me what really mattered.  He is an amazing young man who happens to use an augmentative communication device and wheelchair.  But please, remember, he is a young man.  He has crushes on girls, passions, and hopes just like everyone.  One of his hopes was fulfilled by a cousin who saw what I didn’t;  the little things matter.

reproduced with permission from their mom's and the young woman

Yes, I am talking about prom.  He went to prom, complete with two beautiful dates who danced with him and enjoyed it along side him.  His younger brother fit his chair with a camera and he shared the expeience later with his family in film as using the talker is more tedious.  At one point, as the juniors and seniors all circled around while individuals danced in and out of the circle, the young man’s classmates made room and had him join the center for his few seconds of dance solo.  Yes, one night of prom matters, and to a young junior, it is a highlight.  Prom wasn’t a single night.  No, it was a lifetime of memory.  I will always be grateful that he was my teacher as to how to plan what matters most in a person’s life.  I will carry this lesson with me the next time I start a sentence with “One day….”

Thanks, all three of you!!!

Do As I Say AND As I Do

Today, I was haunted by my own words.

Let me set the stage…

I am a firm believer in learning everyday and growing as a person.  I believe this so much that I try to model it for others.  This year, I have challenged myself to a physical completion that is 50% physical, 50% mental.  The mental part, for me, is believing that yes, I can do it.  I have told people I am doing this competition so I will follow through and have been overwhelmed by the support.  I even have a student who wants to come watch me. 

Today as I was chatting with his mom, we talked about how my training is going and I said that I am glad I am challenging myself but that I hope I can do it.  That’s when it happened…

“Would you let my son say ‘I hope’?”

Caught busted!  No, my students need to know they can and so should I.

“You’re right, I will.”

Thank you so much to that family for reminding me that I need to model not only challenging yourself, but believing in yourself.

The Royal Child

One of my favorite parables was told by the minister in an episode of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman entitled "Just One Lullaby."  In this episode there is a town debate on the use or prohibition of corporal punishment.  The minister, Timothy, shares a story that I constantly call to mind.  I will try to do it justice:

There once was a town that was very sad.  The children had a very sad school house with few books to share.  There were no parks or places to play.  The streets were dirty.  The villagers were sad and worked so hard in the fields to grow enough to eat that they were rarely at home as a family.  The way they spoke to each other was sad and cold.

One day, the king of the whole kingdom came to visit.  He told the members of the village that he had secretly replaced one of their babies with his own.  The villagers were shocked and afraid.  They each worried, what would the king do if he saw the way that his child was living.

The villagers cleaned the streets and school.  They bought books, toys, and paints. They spoke to their children with love and made time each night to eat as a family.  The children thrived and grew into happy, loving adults.  These adults worked, loved, and started their own families.  The village was no longer sad, but instead, it was a wonderful place to be.  It was a kind, loving, beautiful village.  You see, the children grew up not knowing that one was royalty.  They only knew that they were loved and safe.

Many years later, the king returned and enjoyed getting to know each of the adults that the children had become.  One elderly lady asked of the king, "Your Majesty, please, tell me if my son is your prince.  He is so wonderful I just feel he must be."

The king replied, "They are all royalty."

Strength, Courage and Wisdom = Hope

I have been absent from my blog for a while.  I would like to apologize but I can’t.  I can’t because I have been doing something for which no one should ever apologize.  I stepped back and took a look at who I what and what I believe.  You see, this was my response to the political climate of today.

I have my own beliefs and they have been formed in part by my experiences and in part by my education.  How much was education?  A third?  A half? A majority?  I don’t know.  But I do know that I am a teacher.  I spend 175 days a year with children; children that aren’t mine by blood, just by passion and commitment.  Was I making the right decisions for each and every one of them?  Was I making my beliefs the right answer or was I tolerant of free thought.  

What I decided is that I am committed to teaching, leadership, and the belief that our future is good.  Children will grow up to be the great and wonderful people that we hope they become.  I teach because I do value each and every person that I meet.  Each belief a person holds is right for them, shaped by their experiences, and their education.  If I want heard, I need to continue to listen.  I may not agree with everyone but that is not an argument, just a mark of what makes us each individuals.  I am not saying that crimes such as the shooting at the Aurora Theater, genocide in Sudan, or the death of our foreign ambassadors is acceptable.  It isn’t. But beliefs such as what the immigration policy should be, who should be manufacturing our products and at what rate, how we should spend our tax dollars, and whether or not each military maneuver was effective can not be decided by one person.  Each person’s view matters.

Yes, out future is hopeful. I count my blessings that I am able to be a part of that future, in a very small way.

As to my personal future,  it is this blog and public education leadership.  I may not have a leadership job title, but leadership is more than what is written on your door.  I think I am ready.  To that end, I seek your ideas, questions and struggles.  You will help guide me along with the sage advise I say as I go to sleep each night:

Grant me the strength to endure

That which I cannot change,

The courage to change

That which I can,

And the wisdom to know the difference.

(my personal adaption of the Serenity Prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr)

(Un)Fair Advantage

Oscar Pistorius, this is a name that will forever remain important.  Oscar, a young an from South Africa was the first amputee to run in the Olympics.  Not just the Paralympics, but the one that is called the Olympics and is actually broadcast in prime time on a station you can find (enough ranting, back to Oscar).

Oscar is often referred to as the "fastest man on no legs."  But this was the very source of controversy.  The prosthesis legs he wears at first disqualified him for the Olympics as an "Unfair Advantage."  Oscar appealed and his expert witnesses proved that his Cheetah Prosthetics were not an advantage.

Really?!?  Do we really think they are an advantage?  Are we afraid that other runners training as Olympic hopefuls are going to have their legs amputated so they can have the benefit of a prothetic?  Really?!?  I don't think so.  I doubt that his mother, when told that her 11 month old infant would have part of his legs cut off, she said, "great, now he can get faster ones."  No, they are not an advantage.  When he steps in a puddle on mud and doesn't know, that is not an advantage.  When he, as a 18 month old had to not only learn to walk but to put on his legs correctly so he wouldn't get sores or infections, it was not an advantage.

Bu the most remarkable thing about Oscar, his attitude.  He was grateful to run.  Grateful that he made it through the semi-finals.  Grateful to be an Olympian.  And his attitude endeared him to the men he ran with.  One even wanted to trade name tags with him at the conclusion of the race, a symbol of admiration and respect that goes beyond words.

Oscar Pistorius

Remember that name, remember that man, and remember,

All things are Possible!

Olympic Inclusion

Like a great portion of the population, I look forward to the Olympics.  My Friday was planned so I could be home to watch the Opening Ceremony and the pageantry, excitement, unity, and stories that come with it.  I love every minute from the choreography, the music, and the uniforms for each country.  It is a fun tradition that draws me in each year.

This year, there was a surprise.  This year, I saw an inclusive ceremony.  There were individuals with disabilities throughout the night.  They were members of the performance, volunteers, and people.  People who happened to have disabilities.  I first realized what I was seeing when the Kaos Signing Choir for Deaf and Hearing Children 

Copied from: http://www.haringeyindependent.co.uk/news/topstories/9845298.Choir_performs_national_anthem_at_Olympic_Opening_Ceremony/

It was a beautiful performance.  Then, as I watched the dancing and music throughout the ages, I noticed that there were additional individuals with disabilities participating.  They were dancing, singing, and a truly included part of the ceremony.  There was nothing giving away that they were different, separate, or disabled in the choreography or placement of them in regards to the television cameras and other participants.  No, it was simply people performing--all people who volunteered.

This is not the end of inclusion for this Olympics.  Athletes who would only have been participating in the Para Olympics are participating in both this year. Oscar Pistorius and Natalia Partyka are a testament not only to their own strength but to who we can become when we look toward each other's strengths, rather than our perceived weaknesses or short comings.

Thank you Olympics for inspiring us all in some way.  You gave me a glimpse of the future I believe in, thank you.

Ring in the New Year

As the year comes to a close, I find myself reflecting.  2011 brought continued budget cuts and with that, increased class sizes, fewer people for services such as special education, Reading Recovery, Title 1, gifted and talented programs, and school readiness.  Additionally, we all wait in fear that our music and arts programs will be cut.  We struggle daily to still meet high standards and complete stacks and piles of paperwork.

Will 2012 be more of the same?  Failed attempts to raise funds? Exhausted teachers?  Decreased confidence in the public school system?  I don't think so.

I think 2012 will bring the healing of our spirits and confidence.  We will realize that, although tired, we survived all the bad news of 2012.  We can handle more than we thought, and with grace.  The exhaustion, anger, and frustration will give way to hope, confidence, and renewed joy of the job.  I already feel my spirits lifting and look forward to returning to school.