Being a high-school teacher has, I fear, has made me more quick to anger when watching horrible parents. I never used to get too angry when in the presence of bad parents (like those who let their kids run around unatttended in the supermarket), but being a high-school teacher forces me to see poorly parented kids as potential poorly parented young adults.
Here is the most recent situation to get my blood boiling: a family friend has their elementary aged child in a school-sponsoered book club. The book they were assigned a few weeks ago has gone unread and, today, the family is going to see the movie (in leiu of reading the book).
Normally, a situation like this would be mildly annoying to me. But upon hearing about this, my "teacher mode" turned immediately on, and I have not been able to stop stewing over such a blatant act of parental irresponsibility. Here we have a great example of a parent tacitly informing their kids that skirting rules is completely permissible, and that the parents glowingly endorse such rule-skirting. In addition, this child (who actually does like to read) has now been introduced to the dilemma that all children eventually face: why read the book when I can just see the movie?
I recall when my parents found out that I had not read a required book for a high school class. What did they do? They called the teacher! They let the teacher know that I had not read the book, and advised the teacher to "catch me in the act" by pulling me aside and quizzing me on it. I did not find out that my parents put the teacher up to it until years later, and to tell the truth, I am glad they did. It encouraged me to read (if only by force) which eventually lead to a joy for reading.
Would I do what my parents did in this child's situation? Yes. Being a teacher has made me appreciate that, sometimes, one must be creative in teaching kids how and why to follow rules. Yes, this means that the child may not like you for a time, and yes, this certainly means that the child will be discomforted when the teacher "calls them out," but they will learn the lesson they should learn and be the better for it in the long run.
When I think of this story, I cannot help but think about kids I teach who expect A's simply because they show up to most of my classes (and the parents who back them up). I cannot help but think of the stduents who miss inexcusable amounts of time from school with their parents permission, and those whose parents don't make them do homework or study, but pretend that they value education.
With any luck, this student will never have a teacher in high school that has the audacity to set expecations and hold students accountable for them. Unfortunately, unless the student goes to a private high school, it seems unlikely that they ever will.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Special Education: A Delicate Balance Between Inclusion and Differentiation
For my final "Portfolio" class, I have to include an article articulating a personal philosophy of special education. It has taken me a while to figure out how I might write an honest article while not risking a good grade by being a contrarian. Below is my best attempt.
______________________________________________
Special Education: A Delicate Balance Between Inclusion and Differentiation
Special education in the public school setting presently exists in a state of tension: the tension between the ideas of inclusion and differentiation. While inclusion refers to the act of including all students in the general education setting with the general education curriculum, the idea of differentiation is about keeping mindful of differences in faculties, abilities, and proclivities. Where the former idea strives towards some sense of universalization, the latter idea aims to recognize and accommodate plurality. Special education’s challenge, then, is to educate students with disabilities in a way that includes, giving the students some degree of “sameness,” while differentiating and recognizing sometimes intractable differences.
This job of the special educator is complicated when one realizes that, as these goals are in tension, any emphasis on the one results in de-emphasis of the other. If we decide, for instance, to place a student into a more inclusive setting, then we are tacitly suggesting that the student will experience less differentiation. Conversely, the more we want to differentiate for a student, the less included that student will be in the general curriculum of her “general education” peers.
Commenting on this delicate balance, Kauffman, McGee, and Brigham (2004) write of the ever-present danger within special education of “losing its way in the single-minded pursuit of full inclusion” at the expense of recognizing student differences. They go on to suggest that once this overemphasis on inclusion occurs, the pressure on special educators becomes more on the “appearance of normalization without the expectation of competence.” (original italics) An overemphasis on inclusion has led to the unintended negative consequence that “general education is now seen by many as the only place where fair and equitable treatment is possible and where the opportunity to learn is extended to all equally.”
As I see it, the bigger problem is the difficulty in maintaining balance between this idea of inclusion, where all students are to access the same general education curriculum, and the need for differentiation of the curriculum based on student abilities. While students with “milder” learning disabilities may be able to function in an inclusion setting with minimal supports of a kind fully implementable in an inclusion environment, students with more severe learning disabilities, who are also being pushed into an inclusion setting, may often require extensive modifications and differentiation of a kind that conflicts with the idea of inclusion. (To put it more directly, some students may require enough modifications and adaptations to the curriculum that their “inclusion” means little more than them doing different work than their peers while existing in the same room with them.)
By way of example, the following is a practical question that often plagues general and special educators in the inclusion setting: how can we modify the content enough to accommodate a particular student while maintaining the standards of which the general education curriculum demands mastery? This question gets to the heart of the tension between inclusion and differentiation. Include too much and one runs the risk of ignoring students’ needs for differentiation. Differentiate too much and a student’s education becomes so different that “inclusion” becomes so in name only.
Another problem created by the tension of the inclusion setting is one of difficulty in implementation. Differentiating in a self-contained classroom, where class sizes are generally smaller, is an unproblematic affair. Differentiating in an inclusion class, where class sizes tend to be larger, can be more difficult. When the student/teacher ratio is 6-10:1, it is much more workable for the teacher to spend individual time with each student, so as to differentiate her approach. When the ratio is 15-30:1, this type of individual differentiation becomes much more difficult. In some sense, students who are in an inclusion setting will be expected to “fend for themselves” more than students in a self-contained “special education” environment.
While certain accommodations – extended time, use of a calculator, student being provided with notes/organizers, etc – are easily and unobtrusively implementable in an inclusion setting, others are less so. Some accommodations, like verbatim reading of tests and quizzes, are intrusive to the general education environment (i.e., cannot easily be done in the classroom). Others, such as reducing the reading or work-load requirements placed on a particular student, are difficult to practice in an inclusion setting while maintaining equity (“Why does she only have to do 5 problems while I must do 10 to get the same grade?”) Others, like requiring the teacher to place the student in an area with reduced distractions, become down right impossible in many inclusion classrooms. In a variety of ways, differentiation can become all the more difficult in larger, inclusion classes than smaller, self-contained ones.
Why should the fact that these ideas of inclusion and differentiation are in tension matter to the practice of special education? In figuring out placement and service options for students, the special educator must stay mindful that more emphasis on the one requires diminution of the other. The more differentiation one demands for a student, the less inclusion that student will experience, and vice versa. Further, special educators must stay mindful that the goal for all students – to be as included as possible within the limits of each student’s ability – means that the goal should be to foster as much self-sufficiency in disabled students as possible. (As inclusion necessitates a certain level of self-sufficiency, differentiation should be used only when it is necessary, and only with the objective of teaching the student to differentiate for herself.)
Unfortunately, if often happens that differentiation is employed as much to hide of skirt student difficulties as to teach students how to overcome difficulties. It often happens that students are placed in inclusion classes before they have mastered the basic skills required in those classes, and differentiation is employed so as to render those basic skills superfluous – to allow the student to “get by” without having to demonstrate skills expected of other non-disabled students. As Kaufman, McGee and Brigham point out (2004), it happens quite often that “attempts to accommodate students with disabilities can undermine achievement.”
As mentioned above, there are several reasons that the inclusion setting limits the amount of differentiation that can or should be done. If inclusion is to be truly inclusive, students who require extensive differentiation may be best served in a “self-contained” special education environment. Conversely, when placing students in an inclusion setting, educators should very honestly ask if the student is truly ready to access the general education curriculum with as few differentiations as possible.
None of this is to assail the goals of inclusion and differentiation. Both are worthy goals for special educators to pursue. My argument is simply that special educators should always be mindful that too much differentiation takes away the “inclusive” aspects of inclusion, and pushing for full inclusion necessitates keeping differentiation to a minimum. In placement decisions, annual IEP reviews, and discussions about how to deliver IEP services to students, recognition of the tension between inclusion and differentiation may force us to be more realistic in how we deal with students. The answer we come to about how much inclusion and how much differentiation is needed will doubtless differ from student to student, but the special educator must be careful to avoid overreliance on either differentiation or inclusion and recognize the delicacy of striking a healthy balance between these contrasting concepts.
Works cited:
Kauffman, J.M., McGee, K, & Brigham, M. (2004). Enabling or disabling? Observations on changes in special education. Phi Delta Kappan, April 2004. 613-620
______________________________________________
Special Education: A Delicate Balance Between Inclusion and Differentiation
Special education in the public school setting presently exists in a state of tension: the tension between the ideas of inclusion and differentiation. While inclusion refers to the act of including all students in the general education setting with the general education curriculum, the idea of differentiation is about keeping mindful of differences in faculties, abilities, and proclivities. Where the former idea strives towards some sense of universalization, the latter idea aims to recognize and accommodate plurality. Special education’s challenge, then, is to educate students with disabilities in a way that includes, giving the students some degree of “sameness,” while differentiating and recognizing sometimes intractable differences.
This job of the special educator is complicated when one realizes that, as these goals are in tension, any emphasis on the one results in de-emphasis of the other. If we decide, for instance, to place a student into a more inclusive setting, then we are tacitly suggesting that the student will experience less differentiation. Conversely, the more we want to differentiate for a student, the less included that student will be in the general curriculum of her “general education” peers.
Commenting on this delicate balance, Kauffman, McGee, and Brigham (2004) write of the ever-present danger within special education of “losing its way in the single-minded pursuit of full inclusion” at the expense of recognizing student differences. They go on to suggest that once this overemphasis on inclusion occurs, the pressure on special educators becomes more on the “appearance of normalization without the expectation of competence.” (original italics) An overemphasis on inclusion has led to the unintended negative consequence that “general education is now seen by many as the only place where fair and equitable treatment is possible and where the opportunity to learn is extended to all equally.”
As I see it, the bigger problem is the difficulty in maintaining balance between this idea of inclusion, where all students are to access the same general education curriculum, and the need for differentiation of the curriculum based on student abilities. While students with “milder” learning disabilities may be able to function in an inclusion setting with minimal supports of a kind fully implementable in an inclusion environment, students with more severe learning disabilities, who are also being pushed into an inclusion setting, may often require extensive modifications and differentiation of a kind that conflicts with the idea of inclusion. (To put it more directly, some students may require enough modifications and adaptations to the curriculum that their “inclusion” means little more than them doing different work than their peers while existing in the same room with them.)
By way of example, the following is a practical question that often plagues general and special educators in the inclusion setting: how can we modify the content enough to accommodate a particular student while maintaining the standards of which the general education curriculum demands mastery? This question gets to the heart of the tension between inclusion and differentiation. Include too much and one runs the risk of ignoring students’ needs for differentiation. Differentiate too much and a student’s education becomes so different that “inclusion” becomes so in name only.
Another problem created by the tension of the inclusion setting is one of difficulty in implementation. Differentiating in a self-contained classroom, where class sizes are generally smaller, is an unproblematic affair. Differentiating in an inclusion class, where class sizes tend to be larger, can be more difficult. When the student/teacher ratio is 6-10:1, it is much more workable for the teacher to spend individual time with each student, so as to differentiate her approach. When the ratio is 15-30:1, this type of individual differentiation becomes much more difficult. In some sense, students who are in an inclusion setting will be expected to “fend for themselves” more than students in a self-contained “special education” environment.
While certain accommodations – extended time, use of a calculator, student being provided with notes/organizers, etc – are easily and unobtrusively implementable in an inclusion setting, others are less so. Some accommodations, like verbatim reading of tests and quizzes, are intrusive to the general education environment (i.e., cannot easily be done in the classroom). Others, such as reducing the reading or work-load requirements placed on a particular student, are difficult to practice in an inclusion setting while maintaining equity (“Why does she only have to do 5 problems while I must do 10 to get the same grade?”) Others, like requiring the teacher to place the student in an area with reduced distractions, become down right impossible in many inclusion classrooms. In a variety of ways, differentiation can become all the more difficult in larger, inclusion classes than smaller, self-contained ones.
Why should the fact that these ideas of inclusion and differentiation are in tension matter to the practice of special education? In figuring out placement and service options for students, the special educator must stay mindful that more emphasis on the one requires diminution of the other. The more differentiation one demands for a student, the less inclusion that student will experience, and vice versa. Further, special educators must stay mindful that the goal for all students – to be as included as possible within the limits of each student’s ability – means that the goal should be to foster as much self-sufficiency in disabled students as possible. (As inclusion necessitates a certain level of self-sufficiency, differentiation should be used only when it is necessary, and only with the objective of teaching the student to differentiate for herself.)
Unfortunately, if often happens that differentiation is employed as much to hide of skirt student difficulties as to teach students how to overcome difficulties. It often happens that students are placed in inclusion classes before they have mastered the basic skills required in those classes, and differentiation is employed so as to render those basic skills superfluous – to allow the student to “get by” without having to demonstrate skills expected of other non-disabled students. As Kaufman, McGee and Brigham point out (2004), it happens quite often that “attempts to accommodate students with disabilities can undermine achievement.”
As mentioned above, there are several reasons that the inclusion setting limits the amount of differentiation that can or should be done. If inclusion is to be truly inclusive, students who require extensive differentiation may be best served in a “self-contained” special education environment. Conversely, when placing students in an inclusion setting, educators should very honestly ask if the student is truly ready to access the general education curriculum with as few differentiations as possible.
None of this is to assail the goals of inclusion and differentiation. Both are worthy goals for special educators to pursue. My argument is simply that special educators should always be mindful that too much differentiation takes away the “inclusive” aspects of inclusion, and pushing for full inclusion necessitates keeping differentiation to a minimum. In placement decisions, annual IEP reviews, and discussions about how to deliver IEP services to students, recognition of the tension between inclusion and differentiation may force us to be more realistic in how we deal with students. The answer we come to about how much inclusion and how much differentiation is needed will doubtless differ from student to student, but the special educator must be careful to avoid overreliance on either differentiation or inclusion and recognize the delicacy of striking a healthy balance between these contrasting concepts.
Works cited:
Kauffman, J.M., McGee, K, & Brigham, M. (2004). Enabling or disabling? Observations on changes in special education. Phi Delta Kappan, April 2004. 613-620
Social Promotion: The lesser of two evils?
In my opinion as an educator, the idea of social promotion is just about the worst idea in education today. For those unfamiliar, "social promotion" is the idea that we should pass students on to further grades regardless of whether they have met that grade's academic standards. From what I understand, this idea was brought about because it was thought to help students' self-esteem by avoiding stigmatization attached with "being held back."
Is this simply another bad idea foisted onto the education system by those who believe self-esteem is more important than academic standards? In a discussion I had with one supervisor, she eluded to data which shows that "holding kids back" for failure to meet requisite standards not only had no effect on their subsequent academic improvement, but also that holding students back increases the likelihood that those students will fail to get their diplomas.
I have run across an article seconding these arguments, suggesting that "holding kids back" is ineffective and increases the likelihood of drop-out. The authors write:
These authors relay a study which found that "third graders who were retained showed no difference in test scores to those who were promoted and sixth graders who were retained scored worse than those who were promoted." In addition, they also note studies which suggest "that retained students are more likely to drop out of high school," than those who have not been retained.
The first thing I would note is that these results seem almost bordering on circularity to be of any real import. I am not a statistics guy but from what I remember from my Ed Statistics class, this is indeed a very flawed conclusion. Saying that being held back increases one's chance of dropping out or failing to earn a diploma is like saying little more than that those who are not cutting the academic mustard are those most likely not to cut the academic mustard.
The above statistics seem quite tautologous because when looking at students who get held back, chances are that you are dealing with those who are least academically motivated or inclined. So, it is being held back that caused the likelihood to ditch high school, or is being held back and dropping out of high school both due to an underlying lack of academic motivation and/or facility? (In the same way, one can suggest that the more homework one does, the more likely one will be to get an advanced degree, but this would be inaccurate, as inclination to do homework and getting an advanced degree are both symptoms of academic motivation, which is more likely to be the primary factor).
When in discussion with my supervisor, with who's views I disagree, she reminded me of the converse of the above truism: kids who are socially promoted are more likely to get their diplomas than those retained. At the risk of sounding course, no s###! Kids who are pushed through the school system are probably more likely to get diplomas...because they are pushed through the school system! This amounts to little more than saying that those who are not grade on their abilities to cook are more likely to be able to graduate culinary school than those who are retained because they can't cook well.
Good job!
The question is not, as my supervisor thinks, whether social promotion leads to more diplomas than retention. Instead, the question is whether social promotion leads to more DESERVED diplomas than retention. We would, after all, have a 100% graduation rate if we simply handed them out without making them contingent on any standards; all kids would pass because passing would be easy. This "ends justify the means" reasoning that proponents of social promotion use!
But would such a policy be right? The diplomas would be more plentiful, but would they be deserved? I can't see that they would. They would be ill-gotten in the same way that kids who are socially promoted in order that they may be handed (rather than have earned) diplomas would be.
It seems like, at root, educators once again speak from both sides of the mouth: on one hand, we talk about grade levels, passing classes, and graduating to the next grade. On the other side, we are afraid to hold kids to standards because some of them might drop out or get their feelings hurt. I sympathize with kids who are in danger of dropping out, but unlike proponents of social promotion, I am not willing to do away with the notion of standards in order to ensure that these students stay in school under artificial pretense. (That is how we wind up with students in Algebra II that don't know how to multiply, and students who can't read being in English 10).
In my opinion, social promotion is not the lesser of two evils (the other being student retention and possible drop-outs). The lesser of two evils is pushing students through to grades that they have no business being in for the sole purpose of making us educators feel better. THAT is the evil.
Is this simply another bad idea foisted onto the education system by those who believe self-esteem is more important than academic standards? In a discussion I had with one supervisor, she eluded to data which shows that "holding kids back" for failure to meet requisite standards not only had no effect on their subsequent academic improvement, but also that holding students back increases the likelihood that those students will fail to get their diplomas.
I have run across an article seconding these arguments, suggesting that "holding kids back" is ineffective and increases the likelihood of drop-out. The authors write:
Grade retention is one of the methods often proposed and used to help poor performing students catch-up to their peers. At best, most research on the effects of grade retention portrays it as a practice that provides no benefit to the students; at worst it is considered a damaging practice.
These authors relay a study which found that "third graders who were retained showed no difference in test scores to those who were promoted and sixth graders who were retained scored worse than those who were promoted." In addition, they also note studies which suggest "that retained students are more likely to drop out of high school," than those who have not been retained.
The first thing I would note is that these results seem almost bordering on circularity to be of any real import. I am not a statistics guy but from what I remember from my Ed Statistics class, this is indeed a very flawed conclusion. Saying that being held back increases one's chance of dropping out or failing to earn a diploma is like saying little more than that those who are not cutting the academic mustard are those most likely not to cut the academic mustard.
The above statistics seem quite tautologous because when looking at students who get held back, chances are that you are dealing with those who are least academically motivated or inclined. So, it is being held back that caused the likelihood to ditch high school, or is being held back and dropping out of high school both due to an underlying lack of academic motivation and/or facility? (In the same way, one can suggest that the more homework one does, the more likely one will be to get an advanced degree, but this would be inaccurate, as inclination to do homework and getting an advanced degree are both symptoms of academic motivation, which is more likely to be the primary factor).
When in discussion with my supervisor, with who's views I disagree, she reminded me of the converse of the above truism: kids who are socially promoted are more likely to get their diplomas than those retained. At the risk of sounding course, no s###! Kids who are pushed through the school system are probably more likely to get diplomas...because they are pushed through the school system! This amounts to little more than saying that those who are not grade on their abilities to cook are more likely to be able to graduate culinary school than those who are retained because they can't cook well.
Good job!
The question is not, as my supervisor thinks, whether social promotion leads to more diplomas than retention. Instead, the question is whether social promotion leads to more DESERVED diplomas than retention. We would, after all, have a 100% graduation rate if we simply handed them out without making them contingent on any standards; all kids would pass because passing would be easy. This "ends justify the means" reasoning that proponents of social promotion use!
But would such a policy be right? The diplomas would be more plentiful, but would they be deserved? I can't see that they would. They would be ill-gotten in the same way that kids who are socially promoted in order that they may be handed (rather than have earned) diplomas would be.
It seems like, at root, educators once again speak from both sides of the mouth: on one hand, we talk about grade levels, passing classes, and graduating to the next grade. On the other side, we are afraid to hold kids to standards because some of them might drop out or get their feelings hurt. I sympathize with kids who are in danger of dropping out, but unlike proponents of social promotion, I am not willing to do away with the notion of standards in order to ensure that these students stay in school under artificial pretense. (That is how we wind up with students in Algebra II that don't know how to multiply, and students who can't read being in English 10).
In my opinion, social promotion is not the lesser of two evils (the other being student retention and possible drop-outs). The lesser of two evils is pushing students through to grades that they have no business being in for the sole purpose of making us educators feel better. THAT is the evil.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
What Are the Special Educators DOING?!
Recently, I have been talking a lot about how the discipline of special educaiton has been steadily lowering the bar so that students can "succeed." The reasoning goes like this: since special education students are having a hard time meeting standards, it is easier to lower the standards than to raise the students.
Today, an e-mail crossed my desk (written by a supervisor) that provides a brilliant real-life example of this nonsense. Lately, it has been noted that special education students (and many non-special education students) have been performing poorly on tests ("benchmarks") and quizzes ("short cycles"). My supervisor and some of the higher ups have figured out a positively brilliant way to erase this problem: From now on, we will provide the following "accomodation" to special education students struggling with tests and quizzes:
That's right. Since our students are not performing well on tests and quizzes (which comprise 25% of the total grade, per Baltimore County policy), the problem must be that tests and quizzes are too much of these students grades. (What they will find, I confidently predict, is that lowering the test/quiz percentage won't help, as doing poorly on tests and quizzes is strongly correlated with not doing homework [15%] and classworks [60%]. Maybe these will be the next to be reduced!.)
Lowering the bar so that students can APPEAR successful when they are not? This is the very definition of that! Fudging the numbers? You bet. Providing students with the message that it is okay to fail because we will make failure look like "success"? Yep.
This last effect is why the suggestion irks me so much. Schools talk all the time about accountability but, as the above suggestion illustrates, we will gladly bend the rules so that students don't actually HAVE to experience the negative effects of accountability. (This is like the parent who tells their child not to hit or else they will forego dessert, only to avoid enforcing the policy because enforcement would make the child feel bad.) What this rule is inadvertently telling kids is:
(a) don't take our "tough talk" seriously becuase when push comes to shove, we will cave to what is convenient for you; and
(b) it is okay to fail the tests/quizzes beause we will actively help you do it by shielding you from the consequences.
To my mind, special education is not a synonym for immunity from standards and consequences. To me, the best way to help children get though hurdles is to help them - show them how to study, tutor them, and equip them to get over the hurdles, rather than to remove hurdles altogether. The irony is that both methods - equipping students to get over hurdles and removing hurdles - achieve the same results on paper: both lead to the appearance of success.
Unfortunately, special education seems more and more to opt for the latter option. It is easier. It involves far less work from the teacher and far less frustration for the student. It even jibes with the nurturing instinct that so many special (and general) educators have - our desire to see kids successful and aversion to seeing them frustrated. But here's what a policy of lowering and removing bars does NOT do: it does not teach students anything constructive. Not only does it avoid teaching them the information needed to face academic challenges, but it does not teach them how to deal with challenges constructively.
My last big objection to minimizing the ill effects of low test/quiz grades for special education students is that by doing so, we will virtually ensure that students manage to pass classes without demonstrating the requisite mastery of the subject. If a student was not able to pass the 9th grade English tests and, thanks to this "fudge the numbers" policy, ends up passing the class, imagine how lost she will be in 10th grade English. In such a situation - and such situations WILL occur - have we helped anyone? We have worsened the student's situation, we have engaged in the type of number-fudging considered unethical in buisiness practices...but at least we will make the school's numbers work better.
Things like this are going on too often in the world of special education. We have taken our noble desire to see all children succeed and, in our enthusiasm, forgotten that success is only success if one has to work for it. By helping kids pass classes by minimizing their failed test scores, we are handing them a shallow "success" that exists in name only.
Today, an e-mail crossed my desk (written by a supervisor) that provides a brilliant real-life example of this nonsense. Lately, it has been noted that special education students (and many non-special education students) have been performing poorly on tests ("benchmarks") and quizzes ("short cycles"). My supervisor and some of the higher ups have figured out a positively brilliant way to erase this problem: From now on, we will provide the following "accomodation" to special education students struggling with tests and quizzes:
Test scores will be given reduced percentage when computing grades.
That's right. Since our students are not performing well on tests and quizzes (which comprise 25% of the total grade, per Baltimore County policy), the problem must be that tests and quizzes are too much of these students grades. (What they will find, I confidently predict, is that lowering the test/quiz percentage won't help, as doing poorly on tests and quizzes is strongly correlated with not doing homework [15%] and classworks [60%]. Maybe these will be the next to be reduced!.)
Lowering the bar so that students can APPEAR successful when they are not? This is the very definition of that! Fudging the numbers? You bet. Providing students with the message that it is okay to fail because we will make failure look like "success"? Yep.
This last effect is why the suggestion irks me so much. Schools talk all the time about accountability but, as the above suggestion illustrates, we will gladly bend the rules so that students don't actually HAVE to experience the negative effects of accountability. (This is like the parent who tells their child not to hit or else they will forego dessert, only to avoid enforcing the policy because enforcement would make the child feel bad.) What this rule is inadvertently telling kids is:
(a) don't take our "tough talk" seriously becuase when push comes to shove, we will cave to what is convenient for you; and
(b) it is okay to fail the tests/quizzes beause we will actively help you do it by shielding you from the consequences.
To my mind, special education is not a synonym for immunity from standards and consequences. To me, the best way to help children get though hurdles is to help them - show them how to study, tutor them, and equip them to get over the hurdles, rather than to remove hurdles altogether. The irony is that both methods - equipping students to get over hurdles and removing hurdles - achieve the same results on paper: both lead to the appearance of success.
Unfortunately, special education seems more and more to opt for the latter option. It is easier. It involves far less work from the teacher and far less frustration for the student. It even jibes with the nurturing instinct that so many special (and general) educators have - our desire to see kids successful and aversion to seeing them frustrated. But here's what a policy of lowering and removing bars does NOT do: it does not teach students anything constructive. Not only does it avoid teaching them the information needed to face academic challenges, but it does not teach them how to deal with challenges constructively.
My last big objection to minimizing the ill effects of low test/quiz grades for special education students is that by doing so, we will virtually ensure that students manage to pass classes without demonstrating the requisite mastery of the subject. If a student was not able to pass the 9th grade English tests and, thanks to this "fudge the numbers" policy, ends up passing the class, imagine how lost she will be in 10th grade English. In such a situation - and such situations WILL occur - have we helped anyone? We have worsened the student's situation, we have engaged in the type of number-fudging considered unethical in buisiness practices...but at least we will make the school's numbers work better.
Things like this are going on too often in the world of special education. We have taken our noble desire to see all children succeed and, in our enthusiasm, forgotten that success is only success if one has to work for it. By helping kids pass classes by minimizing their failed test scores, we are handing them a shallow "success" that exists in name only.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Does Special Ed Law REALLY Do Damage?
In response to a previous post reviewing a book critical of the ADA, a reader asked this question:
This is a good question, because it allows me to share my own personal experience and frustration with the follies of IDEA (Individuals with Disabilities in Educaiton Act).
The reader quated above recounts an episode of the TV show "Family Guy" where a school principal "enticed" average students to do poorly so that they can get into special educaiton, all in attempts to boost the school's test scores (special ed students' scores didn't count against the school.)
My situaiton in Baltimore County is slightly different, but the gist is there. All high-school students must pass the HSA (High School Assessment) tests. If students do not pass, they do not graduate, and the number of students who pass (as a percentage of the student body) affects the schools' ratings.
Well, special education students have to take the HSA's and their scores count towards the total. But, students who do poorly enough on the tests, and who have IEP's (which means they are in special ed), get to take the Mod-HSA,or, what some call the "HSA lite." This is a test that has three, rather than four, answer choices per question, has a lower required reading level, and is generally easier in content. But - get this - the Mod-HSA scores count AS IF THEY WERE HSA SCORES.
This may seem like a good idea to enable the students not at HSA level to graduate, but there is a hidden negative consequence: the school has active incentive to get as many people to take the Mod-HSA as possible. As the Mod-HSA is easier than the HSA, but is worth the same amount to the school's ranking, it is in the school's interest to ensure that as many students as possible take the easier test so that they can pass with higher numbers.
And if THAT isn't enough, students who fail the HSA more than twice - whether they are special ed or not - are allowed to do a project called the "Bridge Plan" in place of the HSA. While the Bridge Plan DOES NOT count towards the schools' scores - thus providing an incentive NOT to have students take the Bridge Plan - this also has a hidden negative consequence: students fail to take the HSA seriously because they now know that if they fail twice, they can just take the easier Bridge Plan. (Whether it is easier is debatable, as it is a thick and cumbersome project, although one need not study for it, as all the information needed is in the provided booklet.)
Another bad consequence, at least to me, is that all of these non-HSA options take away the whole rationale for the HSA. While I am not a fan of the HSA, and I do not like the idea that a student might not graduate because they failed to pass one test, I believe in sticking to rules. If we decide that the HSA will be a prerequisite for graduation, then it simply sends kids mixed signals to allow alternative (easier) avenues towards graduattion. (It is like telling a student that they need a "c" to pass the class, but then telling them that they can get an "f" as long as they do x project at the end of the year. By that point, the "c" rule ceases to be a rule.)
While the Bridge Plan is open to regular and special ed kids, its primary motivation was from the department of special education, who continually lowers the bar so that kids might pass. As the mindset goes, it is easier to lower the bar than to raise the kid. And this is precisely what I dislike about special education. It is world where "standards" exist in name only (and often evocation of them provoke cries of unfairness). It is a world where it is best to have the test read to Johny, rather than to lower Johny's self-esteem by holding him back until he can read the test himself. It is a world that spends most of its time "getting kids through" rather than "getting kids better."
So, to answer the reader's question, this is how it works where I teach: we pretend to hold kids accountable but give our special education students multiple routes (easier routes) so as to keep numbers up. This allows the schools to look like they are 'standards based' while hiding the fact that the standards are so flexible as to not be standards at alll.
That's special ed for you.
It seems like the disability acts do more harm than good, but I'm curious how much good they do in your case.
This is a good question, because it allows me to share my own personal experience and frustration with the follies of IDEA (Individuals with Disabilities in Educaiton Act).
The reader quated above recounts an episode of the TV show "Family Guy" where a school principal "enticed" average students to do poorly so that they can get into special educaiton, all in attempts to boost the school's test scores (special ed students' scores didn't count against the school.)
My situaiton in Baltimore County is slightly different, but the gist is there. All high-school students must pass the HSA (High School Assessment) tests. If students do not pass, they do not graduate, and the number of students who pass (as a percentage of the student body) affects the schools' ratings.
Well, special education students have to take the HSA's and their scores count towards the total. But, students who do poorly enough on the tests, and who have IEP's (which means they are in special ed), get to take the Mod-HSA,or, what some call the "HSA lite." This is a test that has three, rather than four, answer choices per question, has a lower required reading level, and is generally easier in content. But - get this - the Mod-HSA scores count AS IF THEY WERE HSA SCORES.
This may seem like a good idea to enable the students not at HSA level to graduate, but there is a hidden negative consequence: the school has active incentive to get as many people to take the Mod-HSA as possible. As the Mod-HSA is easier than the HSA, but is worth the same amount to the school's ranking, it is in the school's interest to ensure that as many students as possible take the easier test so that they can pass with higher numbers.
And if THAT isn't enough, students who fail the HSA more than twice - whether they are special ed or not - are allowed to do a project called the "Bridge Plan" in place of the HSA. While the Bridge Plan DOES NOT count towards the schools' scores - thus providing an incentive NOT to have students take the Bridge Plan - this also has a hidden negative consequence: students fail to take the HSA seriously because they now know that if they fail twice, they can just take the easier Bridge Plan. (Whether it is easier is debatable, as it is a thick and cumbersome project, although one need not study for it, as all the information needed is in the provided booklet.)
Another bad consequence, at least to me, is that all of these non-HSA options take away the whole rationale for the HSA. While I am not a fan of the HSA, and I do not like the idea that a student might not graduate because they failed to pass one test, I believe in sticking to rules. If we decide that the HSA will be a prerequisite for graduation, then it simply sends kids mixed signals to allow alternative (easier) avenues towards graduattion. (It is like telling a student that they need a "c" to pass the class, but then telling them that they can get an "f" as long as they do x project at the end of the year. By that point, the "c" rule ceases to be a rule.)
While the Bridge Plan is open to regular and special ed kids, its primary motivation was from the department of special education, who continually lowers the bar so that kids might pass. As the mindset goes, it is easier to lower the bar than to raise the kid. And this is precisely what I dislike about special education. It is world where "standards" exist in name only (and often evocation of them provoke cries of unfairness). It is a world where it is best to have the test read to Johny, rather than to lower Johny's self-esteem by holding him back until he can read the test himself. It is a world that spends most of its time "getting kids through" rather than "getting kids better."
So, to answer the reader's question, this is how it works where I teach: we pretend to hold kids accountable but give our special education students multiple routes (easier routes) so as to keep numbers up. This allows the schools to look like they are 'standards based' while hiding the fact that the standards are so flexible as to not be standards at alll.
That's special ed for you.
Does Anyone Else See the Contradiction? Obama Follies, Part 1
This afternoon, I came across the following headline. It is actually quite funny until you think about the fact that politicians (that probably think they are smart) are the ones coming up with these half-witted schemes. The headline reads:
Do you see the contradiction? How can a government that has just dropped $787 BILLION dollars of free government handouts also urge that we cut government spending?!? It would be like a parent urging her daughter not to smoke after buying her cigarettes, or a CEO telling her company the need to be thrifty while collecting a several million dollar salary. CUTTING SPENDING AFTER PASSING THE SINGLE MOST EXPENSIVE BILL IN HISTORY DOESN'T MAKE SENSE!
According to the article, Obama plans on cutting the deficit by "scaling back Iraq war spending, raising taxes on the wealthiest and streamlining government." The first of these will doubtless find little objection, and the second will find objection with libertarians like myself. (Why not cut spending to reduce deficits rather than raise taxes?!)
But the third - streamlining government - is a pipe dream, or a shift piece of rhetoric (probably the latter). How can government be streamlined when it just passed a $787 billion handout to companies? And how can we talk about streamlining government when, as the article notes, the administration is "attempt[ing] to bolster the severely weakened banking system without nationalizing any institutions"? In government language, "bolster" is always synonymous with "pass more regulations for," and "give government more control of." Does that sound like "streamlining" the government? I think not.
And here is a final doozy. In a direct quote, Obama shows that he is a true politician by coming up with something exactly THIS stupid:
So, tell us, boy genius: where is the $787 billion coming from, if not from the "next budget"? And how is spending $787 billion dollars to help out banks and auto workers not "spend[ing] as we please?"
So try to figure it out if you can (especially those of you who like the really hard riddles): How exactly can one go about tightening government spending and streamlining government a week or so after spending $787 billion for government handouts?
Obama urges spending curbs, hands out $15 billion
Do you see the contradiction? How can a government that has just dropped $787 BILLION dollars of free government handouts also urge that we cut government spending?!? It would be like a parent urging her daughter not to smoke after buying her cigarettes, or a CEO telling her company the need to be thrifty while collecting a several million dollar salary. CUTTING SPENDING AFTER PASSING THE SINGLE MOST EXPENSIVE BILL IN HISTORY DOESN'T MAKE SENSE!
According to the article, Obama plans on cutting the deficit by "scaling back Iraq war spending, raising taxes on the wealthiest and streamlining government." The first of these will doubtless find little objection, and the second will find objection with libertarians like myself. (Why not cut spending to reduce deficits rather than raise taxes?!)
But the third - streamlining government - is a pipe dream, or a shift piece of rhetoric (probably the latter). How can government be streamlined when it just passed a $787 billion handout to companies? And how can we talk about streamlining government when, as the article notes, the administration is "attempt[ing] to bolster the severely weakened banking system without nationalizing any institutions"? In government language, "bolster" is always synonymous with "pass more regulations for," and "give government more control of." Does that sound like "streamlining" the government? I think not.
And here is a final doozy. In a direct quote, Obama shows that he is a true politician by coming up with something exactly THIS stupid:
"We cannot simply spend as we please and defer the consequences to the next budget, the next administration or the next generation."
So, tell us, boy genius: where is the $787 billion coming from, if not from the "next budget"? And how is spending $787 billion dollars to help out banks and auto workers not "spend[ing] as we please?"
So try to figure it out if you can (especially those of you who like the really hard riddles): How exactly can one go about tightening government spending and streamlining government a week or so after spending $787 billion for government handouts?
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Review of Greg Perry's "Disabling America"
Below is a review I wrote recently for Greg Perry's "Disabling America," a libertarian-ish critique of the Americans with Disabilities Act. In it, Perry takes the position that, like much other recent legislatkkion made on behalf of minorities, the ADA goes beyond putting the disabled on equal ground as the non-disabled, but makes them a quite privileged group by doling out entitlements galore.
As a special educator, I encounter disability law every day (IDEA), and see that while it was put in place with intent to help disabled students recieve a quality education, it just as often makes and keeps kids disabled. It does these things by granting "accomodatiosn" to children who may be doing nothing more than performing below expectations ("James is struggling in math. He must be learning disabled. Jane has trouble paying attention to the teachers' lecture. She must have ADHD.")
My real beef with IDEA is that many of the "accommodations" it gives do little more than reward kids for failure by expecting less and less from them the worse they do. I have been in many IEP (Individualized Education Plan) meetings where we discussed reducing the amount of work expected of x because x is failing certain classes. Thus, the less he does, the less he learns, the less he will be expected to learn in the future!
Enough! I offer you this review in hopes that you will read Greg Perry's timely book.
________________________________________________
Are Some More Equal Than Others? (a special educator's take)
The Americans With Disabilities Act is a sacred cow. Rarely do I hear anyone publicly say anything against it, and generally those who would like to (myself included) run the risk of being considered anti-disabled (or maybe "disabledphobic?"). This is what makes Greg Perry and his book such an asset. Perry, born with one leg and three fingers, has written a smashing critique of the Americans With Disabilities Act, and as a disabled man, probably has more latitude to do so than most of us "normals."
From the outset, I will warn you that this book is highly anecdotal and, to my mind, this is no flaw (as some will allege). We hear stories of cases involving employees who "discover" a disability (like alcohol addiciton, "chronic" back pain, or depression), so that they might sue the pants off their employers. We hear stories of disabled lawyers who sue hundreds of stores at a time (that they have been to all of the stores is often in question).
These, and other, stories will outrage, and this is by design. The subtitle of the book is "the unintended consequences of the government protection of the handicapped," and this is what Perry shows. The ADA, like other government legislation such as the USA PATRIOT act, and No Child Left Behind, doubtless started with good intentions. But like these other Acts, the ADA is rife for abuse and ends up hurting those it intends to help. As Perry notes, the ADA is rife with abuse in large part because the vagueness of what constitutes a disability; everything from drug addiction to affliction with the AIDS virus to situational depression can be called a disability under ADA, and once one is "disabled," the ADA gives wide latitude to sue and make cumbersome demands on everyone from one's employer to one's favorite mom-and-pop store. And why is the ADA counterproductive? It makes people afraid to hire and deal with disabled people by seeing them not as persons but potential liabilities and lawsuits. (It also, like affirmative action, sends people the message that an entire group of people is so bad off that they couldn't make it without hefty government assistance.)
Am a special educator, I particularly enjoyed the chapter on the ADA in education (which is actually governed by a sister law, IDEA). IDEA mandates that every disabled child - and the term is flexible enough to include practically anyone performing below grade level - be provided with an Individualized Education Plan and "accommodations" that often act as wheelchair used by a child who needs to learn to walk; in other words, much of the "help" given to students with disabilities - use of a calculator on all math work, being read to (even in high school) - do more to ensure that a child will stay disabled than learn to overcome their disability. I do not have anywhere near the malice that Perry does for IDEA - and think that in some cases, the law does some good when used well - but the chapter is eye-opening for those who've never thought much on the subject.
My biggest criticism is that Perry's book is highly emotionally charged and rhetorical. There are also times when Perry argues more out of emotion than thought. (He suggests, for instance, that most stores would become "handicapped accessible" on their own, but does not explain why, if this is so, the ADA was ever felt necessary. Nor does he see that many stores simply wouldn't bother to go through the expense in areas where, like most places, the disabled are a small demographic). The book is also quite repetitive, and I found myself skimming, rather than reading, the last two chapters. As a book designed to incense a lay audience, this book is heavy on rhetoric and anecdote, and light on statistics.
Overall, though, Perry's arguments will hold much sway with those of a conservative/libertarian bent. The ADA makes "some more equal than others" by singling some out for very special treatment while leaving others with the expense (handicapped parking seems always to be at the front of the store; the rest of us must park further away, as one small example).
Want to see a sacred cow butchered? Read Disabling America (at your own risk).
As a special educator, I encounter disability law every day (IDEA), and see that while it was put in place with intent to help disabled students recieve a quality education, it just as often makes and keeps kids disabled. It does these things by granting "accomodatiosn" to children who may be doing nothing more than performing below expectations ("James is struggling in math. He must be learning disabled. Jane has trouble paying attention to the teachers' lecture. She must have ADHD.")
My real beef with IDEA is that many of the "accommodations" it gives do little more than reward kids for failure by expecting less and less from them the worse they do. I have been in many IEP (Individualized Education Plan) meetings where we discussed reducing the amount of work expected of x because x is failing certain classes. Thus, the less he does, the less he learns, the less he will be expected to learn in the future!
Enough! I offer you this review in hopes that you will read Greg Perry's timely book.
________________________________________________
Are Some More Equal Than Others? (a special educator's take)
The Americans With Disabilities Act is a sacred cow. Rarely do I hear anyone publicly say anything against it, and generally those who would like to (myself included) run the risk of being considered anti-disabled (or maybe "disabledphobic?"). This is what makes Greg Perry and his book such an asset. Perry, born with one leg and three fingers, has written a smashing critique of the Americans With Disabilities Act, and as a disabled man, probably has more latitude to do so than most of us "normals."
From the outset, I will warn you that this book is highly anecdotal and, to my mind, this is no flaw (as some will allege). We hear stories of cases involving employees who "discover" a disability (like alcohol addiciton, "chronic" back pain, or depression), so that they might sue the pants off their employers. We hear stories of disabled lawyers who sue hundreds of stores at a time (that they have been to all of the stores is often in question).
These, and other, stories will outrage, and this is by design. The subtitle of the book is "the unintended consequences of the government protection of the handicapped," and this is what Perry shows. The ADA, like other government legislation such as the USA PATRIOT act, and No Child Left Behind, doubtless started with good intentions. But like these other Acts, the ADA is rife for abuse and ends up hurting those it intends to help. As Perry notes, the ADA is rife with abuse in large part because the vagueness of what constitutes a disability; everything from drug addiction to affliction with the AIDS virus to situational depression can be called a disability under ADA, and once one is "disabled," the ADA gives wide latitude to sue and make cumbersome demands on everyone from one's employer to one's favorite mom-and-pop store. And why is the ADA counterproductive? It makes people afraid to hire and deal with disabled people by seeing them not as persons but potential liabilities and lawsuits. (It also, like affirmative action, sends people the message that an entire group of people is so bad off that they couldn't make it without hefty government assistance.)
Am a special educator, I particularly enjoyed the chapter on the ADA in education (which is actually governed by a sister law, IDEA). IDEA mandates that every disabled child - and the term is flexible enough to include practically anyone performing below grade level - be provided with an Individualized Education Plan and "accommodations" that often act as wheelchair used by a child who needs to learn to walk; in other words, much of the "help" given to students with disabilities - use of a calculator on all math work, being read to (even in high school) - do more to ensure that a child will stay disabled than learn to overcome their disability. I do not have anywhere near the malice that Perry does for IDEA - and think that in some cases, the law does some good when used well - but the chapter is eye-opening for those who've never thought much on the subject.
My biggest criticism is that Perry's book is highly emotionally charged and rhetorical. There are also times when Perry argues more out of emotion than thought. (He suggests, for instance, that most stores would become "handicapped accessible" on their own, but does not explain why, if this is so, the ADA was ever felt necessary. Nor does he see that many stores simply wouldn't bother to go through the expense in areas where, like most places, the disabled are a small demographic). The book is also quite repetitive, and I found myself skimming, rather than reading, the last two chapters. As a book designed to incense a lay audience, this book is heavy on rhetoric and anecdote, and light on statistics.
Overall, though, Perry's arguments will hold much sway with those of a conservative/libertarian bent. The ADA makes "some more equal than others" by singling some out for very special treatment while leaving others with the expense (handicapped parking seems always to be at the front of the store; the rest of us must park further away, as one small example).
Want to see a sacred cow butchered? Read Disabling America (at your own risk).
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