Please Understand "Special Ed."

I suppose this one is kind of a public service announcement.

Last night, I had to go to a meeting for my sons' CCD program (Catholic catechism classes for public school kids) and the speaker, at one point, told everyone that her son had been "special ed." when he was in school. Sympathetic nods ensued among the crowd and then she went on to list her son's numerous issues, which included severe autism and (I quote) "mental retardation." The boy had a habit in school of violently attacking other children at the slightest provocation -- or with none at all.

ADHD? 

This is, of course, something to be sympathetic about. It is a great burden for a parent to have to carry. But I think the sympathy comes a little too quickly when someone simply says his or her kid is "special ed." What people need to understand is that, at least in the educational system in the US, "special ed." is a very broad and it is generally misunderstood by those outside of education.

Yes, a child with severe problems is "special ed," but so is a student with slightly different learning processing tendencies than those of other kids. Had there been "special ed." when I was a kid, I am sure I would have been "classified" for math. I am very poor at processing mathematical procedures; I even "zone out" very palpably when reading certain instructional texts, to this day.

In our high school, we are fortunate to have an exceptional and extremely dedicated special education director, Mrs. Mary Ann Scott. "Scotty's" job is not only to help the kids in her program with their work during certain periods, but to instruct the teachers as to which modifications are necessary to apply to those students while in their classes; these modifications can be as simple as seating location preferences or they can include extra time on tests or orally-presented questions (etc.).

What these modifications do is not to -- if you will -- hit the ball for the student, but to get him or her out of the dugout and into the batters' box. Scotty helps with the stance: back elbow level; weight on the back foot; eyes on the ball...or...wait...maybe you need to squint your left eye to see better... She helps kids with special needs to navigate around their differences in approaching learning.

Thank goodness this wasn't my kid...

So, special ed. is neither, necessarily, a classification of severely impaired or challenged kids, nor is it a feel-good game of musical chairs with plenty of chairs for everyone. What it is is a guiding light through the forest for those whose minds work differently than those of others.

I have had special ed. "classified" students in the most advanced English class we offer (AP Literature and Composition) -- a college-level class. I can bet good money that Einstein and Shakespeare would have been "special ed." had they gone to school in the United Stated in the twentieth or twenty-first centuries...

...but we also cannot forget the severely challenged kids that fall under the special ed. umbrella.

What I hate to see is the immediate reaction people have because of their preconceptions about special ed. I have seen parents actually curl their lips in disgust and snort when asked if their child has any special needs -- as if they have been insulted. That doesn't work out to fair, no matter how you look at it. It's a reaction that comes from ignorance about the program and what it means.

What it comes down to is that "special ed." is education as it should be: a look at the individual student; an assessment of his or her learning style (whether the limitations are severe or minor) and a response to his or her needs...to get that student onto the "field" with the other kids so that kid can show his or her stuff.

Special ed. prejudice is no different that of any other kind. Generalizing about these students is unfair and it could be very bad for them. They need what they need as individuals and it is the responsibility of schools and teachers to provide that.

When I was in school, many of my friends thought I was "dumb" because I got low grades in certain classes. I sometimes thought I was "dumb" as well. (The best my teachers could do was to tell my parents I was "not working to potential." They were right; they just didn't really know how to help except to tell me to try harder.) My graduate school professors would disagree with both my friends and with the younger me about my intelligence. I'd like as few kids as possible to be wrong about themselves the way I was. Maybe I would have done better if I had known the truth (whatever "done better" means...)

I also want to see the kids who need lots and lots of help get it when they need it. Everyone needs to understand, however, that there are as many kinds of "special needs" students as there are fingerprint patterns on them.

So, next time someone says her kid is "special ed." don't jump to the sympathetic head-shake; but, do listen. Sympathy might be needed and it should be given. Sympathy, but not pity. Sympathy gets things done for those who need it. Pity feels like a sense of superiority. Yes, it could easily have been your son or daughter in that story.

Special ed. is about one thing: helping each student reach his or her own personal potential despite differences in learning styles. You can take that most literally.

(I certainly welcome the views of other educators and parents on this...or stories.)

Two Boys, "Tom Sawyer" and a Hobbit: Dad Dreams Realized

Rush, in all their clownishness. 

When my youngest son was born, I was joking about anticipating the day he would become the conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra and simultaneously hold a position in the English Department at the University of Pennsylvania. My wife laughted, but then she said, leveling a serious glance, "So, what if he doesn't want to teach Shakespeare? What if he becomes a construction worker?"

My response: "As long as he becomes a construction worker who reads Shakespeare."

As I age and accrue (I hope) wisdom, it becomes increasingly apparent to me how rare real happiness is and that one's greatest wish for one's kids should simply be that: true happiness. That's a tall enough order without imposing our dreams on our children. If we do what we love, we should let our kids do what they love; if we don't do what we love, we shouldn't see our kids as that last effort to get a piece of what we never "went for"ourselves.

Still, I am often tormented by the desire to see my kids pursue those things that brought me so much joy, like music and literature. I need to be careful, of course, not to cross the line above. But when they do find their way into the  things I loved as a kid, there is -- I admit -- much inner rejoicing...

The Professor

My younger son loves Tolkien. He and I recently finished reading The Lord of the Rings together and we are (backward, I know) reading The Hobbit, now. Tolkien set me on the path to a life of letters. The other night, my other son, who goes up to my little music studio every night to sing along with his favorite music, was singing along to "Tom Sawyer," by Rush. Rush, and especially the drummer/lyricist, Neil Peart, had a musical and literary impact on my life that is second only to the influence of my dad. (Though, if you know Rush's music, you might share my apprehension about my son trying to sing along with Geddy Lee...)

I'll admit that I always thought they would find their way to a similar path as mine. And, sure, they may branch out into their own paths -- in fact I am sure they will. The fact remains, though, that, in a world in which people are singing along to Nikki Minaj/Beyonce...

(Feelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself
I'm feelin' my, feelin' myself
I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my, feelin' my, feelin' myself
I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my, feelin' myself)

...it's good to hear my son upstairs singing Rush's "Tom Sawyer":

"Though his mind is not for rent
Don't put him down as arrogant
His reserve, a quiet defense
Riding out the day's events
The river..."

And in a world in which kids tend to sit in front of screens watching over-sexualized shows and stereotype-reinforcing things, it's good to read about a homebody of a hobbit with just enough "Tookishness" in him to drive him out to an adventure...

I admit it. It feels good to see my boys treading on the fertile ground that helped me realize that life is more than meals and paychecks. I just have to be careful not to force things...

Why We All Should Support What Kim Davis Did

Notice I didn't say "what Kim Davis believes"? That part is up to you. What she did is a different matter. 

Come on -- you know me better than that. Going on a rant about things people need to decide for themselves is not my style. I'm always more interested in evaluating actions than in evaluating beliefs. But something worries me about the Kim Davis backlash; it is the same thing that worries me any time the Internet mobs get a hold of someone they have decided to shun...

...and it really is not unlike a religious shunning, what the Internet mobs do. Whenever someone falls out of favor with the most loudly popularly-sanctioned viewpoints, they get the torches and pitchforks treatment. They are ridiculed. They are labeled as horrible human beings. 

Think about the guy who killed the lion. He went back to work today at his dental practice, and he walked through a crowd of protesters who said things like:

"I was telling him to leave town. He certainly isn't someone who I want to live in my community." And, "I'd like to see him lose his business. I really would." 

One supporter of the dentist claimed that some of the protesters were calling for Palmer to be put to death. 

I love animals and I think killing that lion was not cool. But...I don't know. You decide. If it was an illegal act, the guy should suffer the consequences of the law; but, to want him to lose his livelihood? To run him out of his Minnesota town because he killed a lion in Africa? I mean, if the guy had a history of shooting people's dogs, I could see it... 

Well, anyway, now we are on to Kim Davis. Many conservative Christians are holding her up as a hero and those who disagree with what she did are starting the campaign against her with viscious Tweets and hyper-critical memes. 

To me, the problem manifests itself not in the surface issue: gay marriage. The problem is the tone that those who object take when they do object; the "run her out of town on a rail" philosophy. 

See, anyone has the right to think Kim Davis is a redneck, backward nut if they want; or, even to think she is a proper Christian crusader. But what she actually did is called "civil disobedience." A lot of  people have used civil disobedience as a form of protest and it serves as a last-ditch effort, in a civilized society, when people feel the government or the lawmakers have gone too far. It is dangerous when we either outright say or gently imply that someone "got what they deserved" when they get thrown in prison for doing this. (I am not trying to make comparisons to any other civil disobeyers, for the record. I can just see the stream of people thinking I am trying to call Davis the new Dr. King...) Again, it is not the gay marriage position of anyone, but the negative reaction to Davis's civil disobedience that is the problem. 

Teach your kids what you believe about gay marriage. But to send the next generation forward with the idea that the way Kim Davis handled her protest is wrong is to take the next step into what I see as the coming of a voluntary-membership Big Brother society. (Orwell had it slightly wrong. We're not going to be forced into submission. We're signing up. We are our own Thought Police...)

Davis will probably go back to work and do this again. Good. Let her have at it. If the Internet mobs stop people with strong opinions from feeling that civil disobedience is a valid and even an admirable course, there is no telling who might back down from an issue the mobs might agree with in times to come. We're never going to have balance without extremes -- someone needs to be at either end of the see-saw -- so we need to let it happen. 

Is Davis a hero, to you? Is she a villain? Either way, what she did has been driving an important apsect of protest for centuries. Rail as you will against (or for) her beliefs, but her actions are another thing. 

"Indeed"

There are those who would argue that a certain four-letter profanity is the most versatile word in the English language. I disagree.

I think the language's most versatile word is "indeed." One can answer any question with it; one can use it as a question. It is as malleable under the speaker's inflection as clay is under the potter's hand.

It just fits or can be fitted into any conversation. Gather, and surmise:

SPEAKER 1: You're an idiot.
SPEAKER 2: Indeed?

The responding speaker could put emphasis on the "--deed" to sound indignant. He could respond with sincere sadness, asking, in effect: "You think so?"

SPEAKER 1: I have a headache.
SPEAKER 2: Indeed?

"Speaker 2" could be sincerely interested or exasperated with his hypochondriac friend, depending on inflection.

You get the picture. Try it yourself. It's like I just handed you verbal Play Doh.

SPEAKER 1: Thanks, Chris.
CHRIS: Indeed.

Reverence Falling

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I've written before about how boring "irreverence" is becoming. It's no longer shocking; it's as empty as the eye-rolling of a teenaged girl in a parent-teacher conference. It's easy, now, because it carries no literal or figurative consequence for the irreverent person in question. I think, however, that it's bad for the world, in general. It turns our "dialogues" into little more than ad hominem matches. It makes us rude in groups.

I saw a meme the other day. The group that distributed it had a hashtag (or it was their name...I don't really care about being accurate, here) that called for President Obama to "kill himself". The meme, itself, called him an "asshole." 

In the world from which I come, you don't speak that way about the President of the United States (or even of your neighbor). Sure, you can hate his policies; sure, you have every right to point out when he is incompetent; sure you can rally against him in print or on screen. When we fall, however, to a complete lack of verbal restraint, we become inflamers of conflict and we lose all practical potential to change things.

Also, if there is one thing we have all but completely lost, it is a sense of ritual; of the special nature of a gathering of people for a purpose. I'm not ready to completely blame the defection from religion for this, but I do think it contributes. Many kids never walk into a church or temple or synagogue in which they are expected to show silent reverence...

I am really deeply sickened by the behavior of people at audience functions. The parents at my sons' band concerts talk straight through the performances and even as the band teacher is speaking. I recently played at a group classical guitar recital and as I joined the audience to watch those who played after me, I watched people texting and allowing their children to play video games and climb on the seats.

You'd think there would have been some sense at either of these performances of "reverence" for the people trying to make music. Alas, no. I like to give absolute silence to children pursuing music and to adults, on a stage all by themselves, who are trying to coax music out of wood and nylon.

I know it is dreadfully conservative of me, but I think the death of reverence and respect are making us treat everything and everyone around us poorly. We've gone beyond being simply informal into a disregard for everyone outside our own personal bubbles. Then, we demand respect and get offended when it is not given.

Some places should send us into a cathedral silence. Some people deserve respect and complete attention. I still believe that.