1.  Personal attention.  Children who are independent and self-motivated are a joy in the classroom, but they are the exception.  Most need prompting and pep talks to stay on task and do their best work.

2. Encouragement.  Most kids need to know that someone cares if they do the work, finish the assignment, understand the lesson.

3. Reassurance.  Being shown  that they can do it, get it, learn it.  Kids who have struggled and become accustomed to low grades easily internalize the idea that they just aren’t capable.

4. Focus.  So many kids struggle with attention deficits, some simply can’t stay on task without someone to redirect them frequently.

5. Repetition.  The para can repeat, in a variety of ways as necessary, what the teacher is explaining in the lesson.  This addresses the various learning styles of the students, and gives them more opportunities to “get it.”

6. Illustration.  Children, especially if they have auditory processing deficits, can’t visualize what is being described.  I use my white board to draw pictures, especially in math class, or in social studies.

7. Demonstration.  If they see something right in front of them, not all the way across the room where the teacher is, it is more likely to be remembered.

8. Motivation.  Exactly what motivates a particular child, or causes him to be unmotivated, can differ.  But if they like you they will want to please you.

9. Reward.  If the teacher agrees, some kids really respond well to the positive reinforcement of some sort of reward for doing their best.   I usually use cheap prizes that they earn with stickers.

10. Independence.  Never forget that what you are working toward is not a child who does well when attached to the umbilical cord of an aide, but a kid who continues to do well when the aide steps away to help another student.

(Reposted by the author from Paraeducator Central.)

In my tenure as a special educator, I’ve taught kids in a Special Day Class setting as well as those who would be classified as Resource and kept in the general education environment.    I’ve taught almost every subject area in separate classroom and general ed classroom, in grades 4 through 12.   I’ve taught kids with mild to moderate learning deficits, and even a few with more moderate to severe disabilities.

The more I work with these wonderful kids, the more I am made aware that it is not the content of the lessons, but the manner in which we teach them that makes the difference in learning.    Direct, explicit instruction, customized to the child’s individual learning style and need, is the key to the door that accesses, for the child, the material.    Even the best teachers using the best practices for instruction, may need to tweak how they do things to accommodate our learners’ deficits.

Let me give some examples:

Avery was born premature and since early childhood has exhibited difficulties with memory, particularly sequential memory.  He is now getting ready for middle school.  He does not know the months of the year in order, or the seasons in which the months belong.  He just learned his phone number.  He has difficulty memorizing multiplication tables.  He has significant deficits in the area of auditory processing, and may have receptive language deficits.  He certainly displays difficulties with expressive language – he has difficulty at times retrieving even the names of long-time friends.  He is friendly, funny, athletic, and popular in his class.

Justin is an upper primary student who has an anxiety disorder.  He has trouble falling asleep at night, is fearful of the dark and strange places, and desperate that nobody know when he doesn’t understand something in class.  He is shy, but friendly, and has a good sense of humor.  He masks his terrible fear of exposure with a feigned carelessness.  He refuses help at home from his parents and peers, which makes homework and remedial learning difficult.    Justin, like Avery, does not process what he hears, and tries to model his academic behavior after what he sees his peers doing, without understanding the concepts  being taught.   A popular kid, Justin’s learning is impeded by his internal anxiety and his processing deficits.

Shayna has ADHD and needs to be constantly moving in order to function at all in class.  She’s tried a variety of medications, all of which has side effects that made it impossible for her to continue.  With preferential seating and lots of visual cues, she can manage in class for the most part, but has frequent episodes of panic when, after emerging from a short episode of inattention, she realizes that she missed something important and doesn’t know what to do.    She is sloppy and careless in her work, but is motivated to learn.    Her writing skills are very limited; spelling is atrocious, punctuation non-existent, and she often skips words, writes run-on or incomplete sentences, and never, unless prompted, uses detail to support her ideas and flesh out the text.

Toby is a high-functioning autistic learner.  His expressive and receptive language deficits make understanding what the teacher is saying, including directions, difficult, so he does a lot of watching and copying what others are doing.  He thrives where there’s math calculations to do, but in terms of setting up problems, navigating through word problems, or showing mathematical reasoning, he is far below grade level.   Toby is a good mechanical reader, but his comprehension skills are limited to the surface, literal meaning of text.

All of these kids are in a general education class of 30 students, with a fabulous teacher who provides differentiated instruction better than anyone I’ve ever seen:  Every lesson includes kinesthetic, visual, auditory, and musical and/or artistic segments designed to address every type of learner.    She knows her stuff, and she knows how to make learning fun, energetic, and successful.   Everything is color-coded, rhythmic, and well-spaced so that kids aren’t overwhelmed by the material.

            And yet……….our four friends are falling seriously behind.    

Walk into the classroom, and take a seat in a corner.  You will see a dynamic teacher leading kids through a fun lesson.  There are pauses for movement, there are funny accents to keep your attention in the right place, open-ended questions, modeling, and cooperative learning activities.  Kids are active, engaged, and working together.

Look at our four friends.  They are smiling.  Eyes are glued on the teacher when she’s providing instruction.  They copy everything she does.  They are well-behaved. 

But when it comes time to work with partners or independently, they are helpless.  They look at what their partners are doing and try to follow along.  Ask them what they are doing, and they can’t really say.  If they’ve followed the modeled lesson and copied the info into the graphic organizer, using colored pencils, just like the teacher did, they don’t know what to DO with the information when left to their own devices.  They let their partners do most of the work and strive to look busy.

Avery needs 45 more minutes than anyone else to finish a task.  Justin doesn’t finish, but does enough to get by.  Toby copies exactly what his partner wrote.  Shayna walks over to the teacher eight times in 35 minutes to show her what she’s done so far and ask if it’s right.  It isn’t very good, but at least she’s trying.

Next scene:  math class.  The kids are working on multiple-step problem solving.  Avery and Justin are confused, and are using the wrong operation to solve equations.  Shayna loses track of what she’s doing and has to start over again three times.  Toby is sitting, staring at a word problem, unsure how to set up an equation.  He shuts down completely until the teacher approaches and writes an equation out for him, at which point he quickly solves it in his head.  He writes the answer without showing his work. 

You get the picture.  You’ve probably seen each of these kids somewhere in one of your classes.

            So what is missing?

            I think that what is missing is direct, explicit, step-by-step instruction. 

Instructional trends have been moving increasingly to the exploratory learning module, where kids are given open-ended questions and work together to explore and reason through answers using grade-level materials.    Understanding the concepts behind mathematical operations is given the same importance as being able to use the operations properly.  Experimenting with concepts and ideas and giving kids time to try on and try out different ways of writing, thinking about the content of the textbook constitute a good part of the day.    We want kids to be able to reason, not just answer by rote, right?  Absolutely. 

But there’s a problem with this.  If our kids can’t really understand the language, can’t process it or use it, if their processing deficits impede the reasoning needed to do the work at grade level, or if their reading and writing skills are below grade level so that they struggle just to make sense of the textbook, all of the exploratory learning in the world is not going to achieve anything at all.  In fact, it is going to confuse the kids and get them more tangled up with feelings of inadequacy and confusion, frustration and anxiety, than they need to be.

These kids need coping strategies, problem-solving strategies, and to be taught, shown, and given multiple opportunities to practice, the step-by-step process for doing the work.

• They need to have those steps provided to them clearly, in writing, on charts displayed in the room, and in their binders.  They need to be shown, over and over, each step, in isolation.  Practice just doing Step 1 ten times.  Then do Step 2 ten times.  Then practice Steps 1 and 2 five times.  And so on.
• They need to be told what you are looking to see them do.  “I want to see you reading the question, and underlining the key word.”   “I want to see you scanning the text, line by line, looking for the key word.”  “I want to see you lining up your problem one number right underneath the other.”  “I want to see you highlighting the operations words in the math problem.”

• Give them templates.  Give them checklists.  Give them small group supervision as they practice, without making them feel that they are being singled out because they’re dumb, or “special”.    Send them home with the step-by-step instructions and five practice opportunities as homework, with a reward when they bring it back. 

What does this require of us, the teachers?  It requires that we be willing to break tasks down into smaller bits, and to create clear, concise, and easy to remember explanations or instructions for each.  It requires that we be creative enough to find mnemonics, songs, goofy slogans, and pictures of the key elements of the lesson.  It requires that we  be flexible enough to create small group opportunities, DAILY,  to help guide our students with learning difficulties, in the general education classroom, not as a pull-out where they are singled out as “special”.  It requires that we be sometimes willing to go against the teaching modules that our newer textbooks and educational programs dictate , to include the older-fashioned direct instruction that these kids need.

I think that somewhere between one third and one half of the problems kids with learning disabilities have in class are related to the way the adults in the classroom talk.  I have absolutely no scientific evidence to back this up.  I just have a gut feeling.  It might be more than one half, actually.  It’s a lot.

If you’re a teacher, visualize yourself in the class with your students.  Visualize teaching a lesson, giving instructions for independent or group work, and yourself roaming the classroom, observing and intervening as necessary. 

Listen to yourself. 

Listen some more.

Now, step back out of your visualized classroom and think about what your lesson was about.  What was the purpose?  What did you want the kids to learn?  What did you want them to be able to do in independent or group work?  How did you anticipate that they would demonstrate what they learned? 

I can create a one-page, bulleted mock-up of a lesson that looks like this:

• What I want them to know/learn/be able to do: 
  • identify key vocabulary in a math word problem that indicates the type of operation to use to solve.
• Why this is important: 
  • Helps make word problems easier to decipher
• How I will teach it: 
  • On overhead, several word problems
  • Work to highlight the key vocabulary 
  • Model, model, model. 
  • Then, kids write words in graphic organizer 
  • Then, partner work
• How I will know they got it: 
  • I’ll see their graphic organizers completed 
  • I’ll see partners working to underline or highlight key vocabulary in practice questions and create the correct equations

I’m very clear on what I want them to learn how to do, why, and the steps involved in the lesson.  Putting the lesson into place, however, can result in instruction that is far less clear. 

The difference between an effective lesson using this lesson plan, and one that is not effective rests not on the plan itself, but on how it is delivered. 

Delivery of a lesson involves just about everything we are doing.  It involves our physical presence in the classroom:  where we stand or sit, and where, when and how we move.  It involves the visuals that we provide:  charts, overhead or document camera, Promethean board.  It involves the environmental surroundings in the classroom:  light, other sounds, movement, interference.   It involves our attitude:  are we energetic, frenetic, goofy, light-hearted, serious, stern, bored, frustrated? 

And, most of all to some students, it involves the words we use.  In particular, the number of words we use.

To those of us who are good with words, who understand them and use them effectively, the amount of teacher talk in a lesson doesn’t seem very important.  I can listen to a professor who intersperses, in his lectures about contemporary art, anecdotes about his experiences with famous and not-so-famous artists, lame jokes, and tangential diatribes about public funding for art.   I track him while he paces back and forth between the podium and the window.

While I’m listening, I am sorting through his words and identifying the most important concepts, writing down, in outline form, the notes that I am going to need to study for the test, and filing away some of the stories he’s telling to repeat to my husband someday.  If I get distracted by the mutterings of my seat partner or the note that she passes me asking if I want to meet for coffee on Saturday, I can easily come back to the lecture, filling what I missed using my background knowledge, or, in  a pinch, glance at my partner’s notes and copy.

There are other people in the class with me, and kids in the classes that I teach, who will not be able to do what I’m doing, and won’t get much, if anything, out of the lesson.   I’m referring to people with auditory processing deficits (or APDs).

For them, dealing with the words spoken by the professor, or by me, is a struggle not just for meaning, but for discernment, sequencing, associating, and storing.        

Some of the brightest people I have ever known have auditory processing deficits, and most were considered stupid when they were in elementary school, because they  could sit in class, pay attention to the teacher, and  not come away with any meaningful grasp of what was taught.

What are auditory processing deficits? 

Here’s what they’re not:  they aren’t hearing deficits.  People with auditory processing deficits hear just fine.  Their brains simply don’t process the sounds properly.  Think of it as having extreme near or farsightedness with sounds.  Or partial paralysis of your legs while you’re walking. 

There are a variety of types of auditory processing deficits.  I will cover those in another post.  But regardless of the particular form of APD, you need to know that no matter how clearly you speak, what you say in class to your students may be incomprehensible or, at the very least, extremely difficult to understand by many students.

Let’s take a couple of scenarios. 

• Here, the lesson is about a book the kids need to choose for their next book report:

“Ok, kids, I just finished grading the last book report and I’m really pleased with how everyone did.  I saw a lot of really excellent thinking and writing and by the way, some of your artwork on the book covers was outstanding!  I’m going to put some of the best reports and book covers on the bulletin board so that y’all can see them and celebrate the excellence.  Nice job.   Now, it’s time to get started on next month’s reading assignment.  The book report for next month is going to be a little different.  Instead of writing a plain report, you’re going to write it in the form of a newspaper, with feature articles, interviews, even an advice column, and of course, pictures. 

“I’m going to pass around some examples of exemplary work done by last year’s students.  You’ll see that they used really creative headlines and that the newspapers looked very professional.  It’s okay to have your parents help you if they have newsletter or other software that will help you layout the materials you type in, but they can’t do the writing for you.  Ok, so, your book choice this month is going to be the life story of an important person in American culture.  You can pick a biography or autobiography or memoir.  Who knows what a memoir is?  Sandy?  Yes, it’s the life reminiscences of a person.  How is that different from an autobiography?  John?  Right.  An autobiography is in sequential order, from birth onwards.  Memoirs can move around between ages.  Good job! 

“Ok, so you need to pick a book in the next few days.  The book should be a least 150 pages long, so nobody had better pick up one of the easy-peasy readers that we use with our reading buddies in the first grade!  You can use a book on tape, too, if you like. A  lot of people, like my mom, love to listen to books on tape instead of just reading the text, because it seems more alive to them, and that’s just fine.  Your choice.  We’ll go to the library tomorrow morning and you can look there as well as in our classroom book bins.  Remember, it has to be an American person, not someone from Europe.  So could you pick a biography of King Henry II of England?  No, you could not, because he wasn’t American.  Could you do a biography of Levi Strauss, who invented blue jeans?  Sure, because he lived in America.  Ok, he wasn’t born here, but he moved here and he became an American.  Back then, it was easier to become a citizen.  Are we clear? 

“You are going to have three weeks to read the book and I will be giving you a packet with the instructions for each type of article or whatever that you need to include in the book report newsletter.  You can write it by hand but it will look a lot nicer if it’s typed, and if you don’t have a computer at home you can go to the computer lab during lunch or literacy time to do the typing, or even stay after school if Mrs. Sainz will allow it.  You have to ask her.  I think she usually has one hour of c omputer time available on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but you’d better ask her.  Are we clear?  Good.  Let’s look at some of these examples.  Pass them around, pass them around.”

The students who were listening to this teacher had to do a lot of things at once.  They had to look at the examples she passed around… identify and then keep track of which parts of what she was saying were important to know for the book report… remember the different requirements for the book choice… listen to the questions she asked and the answers… file away the information about the computer center…identify the time period in which the book (a) needed to be chosen and (b) needed to be finished… and discard extraeneous information.

That’s a lot to do.  If this teacher was moving around the classroom while she was talking, the student also had to both look at the materials in front of him or her and track the teacher.  If the teacher turned away from the students, and kept talking, the student had to listen harder to make sure he or she got all of the words.   If the student stopped listening or tuned out even briefly while looking at the examples being passed around, he or she would have to fill in the blanks missed from the teacher’s speech.

• In the following example, the kids are learning about totem poles:

“Kids, Native Americans of the Pacific Northwest had some unique arts and crafts.  They used the natural resources of their region – who can tell me what one of them was?  Jane?  Right.  Wood.  Another one?  Danielle?  Right!  Whale bone.  Jack?  Ivory, yep, that too.  All right.  Let’s turn to page 178 and start learning about what they used those items for besides tools and other implements.    I said open your book, David.  Open.  The.  Book.  Turn to the page.  I said page 178.  Ok.  No, not 176.  178.  EIGHT.  Good. 

“All right, let’s look at the page.  What text features do you notice?  Alex?  And what does the title say?  Totem.  Prounced like Toe, Tem.  Totem.  Totem poles.  Right.  So what is this part of the chapter going to be about?  Totem poles.  What other text features do you notice?  Ricky?  Picture?  What is the academic word for the picture in the textbook?  Starts with ill……right, illustration.  What goes along with the illustration, who knows?  Kim?  Caption.  The caption describes the picture, tells you what it is.  In this case, what does the caption tell us?  Roxanne?  Read it, please.  Good.  Ok, so let’s start reading.  Kim, read the first paragraph, please….

(Later).…”Nice job.   So now we know about the totem poles.  Who can raise their hand and, in your own words, tell me what a totem pole is?  Ralphie?  Good!  Yes, it is a piece of sculpture made of wood that the Indians used to represent important animals spirits, or totems, in their clans or culture.  Write that down.  In your social studies notebook, write totem pole, and your definition.  Then, write, in bullet form, at least 3 animals that were commonly used in totem poles.   Next to each animal, write the attribute or characteristic of that animal in the Pacific Northwest Indian culture.  I’ll come around and look at what you’re doing.”

Here, the students had to retrieve academic vocabulary in the form of text features…remember the page number…take notes…listen while their peers read from the text out loud… recall important parts of the reading…identify the important parts… segment or organize the different types of information…remember the sequence of certain details… multi-task visual and auditory…fill in any blanks using background knowledge..recall important information.

There are kids who cannot do any of these with ease, and there are kids who can do only a few of them with ease, and there are kids who can do any one of them with ease but not combinations of them. 

These are the kids who are going to become completely entangled in your words and, in so doing, miss most of, part of, or some of the lesson. 

It’s not their fault.  It’s not your fault.   But one of you needs to change, and it’s not going to be the child. 

Auditory Processing Deficits are not something you can really cure, though some remediating work can be done.  They are things that we have to accommodate.  And accommodate we must.

What follows are some suggestions, if not concrete rules, for how to deal with auditory processing deficits in your classroom.

You, your body, and what you do with it.

• If you are a wanderer during instruction, i.e., when you’re giving the lesson, consider becoming more of a stationary speaker.  If you can’t do that, and many of us just need to move, then consider limiting the area in which you are moving.    We can teach kids to track us while we’re talking, but too much movement can be difficult.
• If you are standing or moving in front of a window or light, pay attention to whether the glare or shadow impedes a child from seeing your face.  If the light from my classroom windows shines at a certain angle behind me, my students to my left cannot really see my face.  They need to be able to in order to get the most from what I’m saying.
• Make sure that no matter what, you are facing the class while you are talking.  Again, the kids need to be able to see your face while you speak.

Repeat, repeat, repeat.  Rephrase.

Most of us are adept, in the classroom, at rephrasing the same information or directions several times, perhaps in a variety of ways.  This is an excellent skill and we shouldn’t stop using it.  But kids with certain types of auditory processing deficits actually need us to also repeat the exact information we said earlier. 

• Repeat the page number five times.
• Repeat the instructions two or three times. 
• Repeat the words the kids are learning at least three times.
• When you want kids copying things down, repeat it several times.

Chart the important stuff.

Kids who struggle to identify, sequence, and organize the important information in a lesson need to have visual re-enforcement.  I sometimes use both chart paper and a graphic organizer under the document camera. 

On the chart paper, I record the step-by-step instructions the kids need to follow.  On blank paper under the document camera I write the key concepts or important vocabulary that we are learning or talking about. 

• Chart the step-by-step, sequential information and leave it up during the entire lesson.
• Chart the important vocabulary or key concepts the kids need to know.
• Post clearly what you expect to see the kids doing or what the completed work should contain.

Provide note-taking assistance.

Effective note-taking involves reading or hearing information, narrowing it down to the most important facts or concepts, organizing it, and writing it in a way that can be easily read.  Kids with auditory processing deficits have a really hard time with this.

• Share your own notes our outline with the students with APD.
• Have peers share their notes or take notes for others.  (If you make this a matter-of-fact thing, nobody will think it’s odd or that the receiving student is “special”.)
• Create templates or fill-in sheets for kids to use to take notes.

Choose your own words carefully.

You may need to speak less in class, and choreograph the times you do speak.  If you’re like me, this can be a painful thing to contemplate, but contemplate it we must.  But consider the following:

• What if the teacher in the book report example had first given the kids an opportunity to look at the examples of the newspaper-style book report and then started talking about the assignment? 
• What if the teacher had charted the essential points she needed to convey about the new book report assignment, and, pointing to each one, ticked them off?
• What if she’d given everyone kudos for the previous book report, then allowed everyone to get up and go look at the best ones on the board, and only then started talking about the next one?
• What if she had charted the key info about the genres (biography, autobiography, memoir) when the kids answered her questions?
• What if she saved the information about typing and computer lab for another occasion, perhaps after she’d handed out the assignment packet?
• What if, in the Totem Pole example, she’d modeled the note-taking with the kids, showing how she went back into the text to find the information to copy into her notebook?

By spacing what you say and when you say it, combining your words with visual supports, and eliminating extraneous words or postponing them, your lessons and instructions will become more purposeful, succinct, and easy to understand by all of your students.

Before I talk about how to locate and create materials to facilitate inclusion in general education, it’s important to understand why we are doing it and what inclusion should look like.

Placing a child with learning disabilities or cognitive impairment into a general education class has two purposes: First, it promotes socialization and the skills necessary for any person to participate with his or her community in the daily activities of learning and working. Second, it allows that child to access grade-level standards with his or her general ed peers.

In any special day class, kids should also be accessing grade-level standards.  The difference is that in a general ed class, your students with IEPs will be working in a different kind of environment.   In many but not all cases the instruction and assignments are more in-depth and high-level.  (If you run a demanding special day classroom like mine, however, the work may actually be at the same level or even slightly higher.   In such a case, the difference will be in class size and pace, not work level.)

Until recently, most school districts had special education services and classrooms at a variety of levels.  In my district we had,  just a few years ago:  ILS (independent living skills) classrooms for kids with profound disabilities; PACE (adaptive curriculum) classrooms for kids with mild mental retardation and moderate-functioning autism; ED classrooms for students with mental illness and behavior issues; and yet another classroom for kids with mild-moderate learning disabilities.  We also had a Resource program for kids with IEPs who could still participate in the general education classroom; they were pulled out in small groups for guided instruction in targeted areas, but most of their time was spent with the general ed teacher.

Unless a parent demanded it, kids who had cognitive impairments or who were more than one or two grade levels below their peers were not part of the general education classroom, on the theory that they needed a smaller, more structured environment in which to learn.  As long as the instruction provided in those separate classrooms was rigorous, there weren’t many drawbacks to sheltering kids from the larger classrooms and there were many pluses.

Nowadays, in many districts, kids at all cognitive and learning levels are increasingly being placed in general education classrooms, with varying levels of support. Thus, in a general education classroom, you may have 26 gen ed students, some of whom are below grade level and some of whom are far above, and 10 students with IEPs, with any of a wide range of disabilities: ADHD and focus difficulties; mental retardation; autism; receptive/expressive language impairments; visual and working memory deficits; visual processing impairments; auditory processing difficulties.  Most of these kids will not be able to read at grade level and have problems with writing and math as well.

Without structure and support, many of these students will struggle with sensory input.   For them, the noise level and activity associated with large-group settings will be profoundly difficult to handle.

Frustration with the materials and the work may lead some kids to shut down or act out and disrupt the classroom. Kids who don’t process what you are saying very quickly may miss entire chunks of instruction and directions and thus have no idea what to do when independent work time rolls around.

Our job as special educators is to provide the structure, support, and differentiated learning activities that will reduce those struggles in the general ed classroom.  It’s a complex process and one that requires a lot of thought and ongoing monitoring in order to be successful.  If we don’t plan purposefully, or if we don’t supervise the support provided by our aides when we aren’t able to be present, there’s a danger that our students will be relegated to the corner of the classroom with work that is too easy or without meaning.

Here’s what inclusion is:

It is the provision of differentiated instruction and learning activities that accommodate a child’s special learning needs within the general education classroom. The learning and the work are purposeful, meaningful, and serve to teach the child new information and skills.

Here’s what inclusion is not:

It is not separate activities for students with special needs; sponge work and other busywork that serve only to keep a child occupied instead of accessing the curriculum directly; minimal standards and expectations with high praise for accomplishing the mundane. In short, it is not babysitting.

There is babysitting in the general education classroom, and then there’s inclusion.

• Babysitting is having a child play with blocks while everyone else working on place value and numbers to a billion.
• Babysitting is having a child spend an hour coloring pictures of the a tipi while everyone else is learning about the Native American houses.
• Babysitting is writing vocabulary words on a piece of paper and having the child go over them with highlighter every day while the other students are writing paragraphs about the water cycle.
• Babysitting is having a student draw a picture of a snowman while the teacher does a mini-lesson about weather.
• Babysitting is placing a child at a listening center to listen to nursery rhyme songs while the rest of the class is learning about the genre of fairytales.

True inclusion would look like this:

• During math, while others are working on the standard and word forms of numbers to a billion, other kids are working on numbers to a hundred or a thousand. Still others may be using manipulatives to represent numbers in the tens and hundreds. When they’re done, perhaps they are playing a math vocabulary game where they have to read a number word and match it to a digit.
• After reading an easy book or chart about Native American housing, some kids are using sorting cards to match the names of the houses to the pictures. Others might be making a booklet about the different kinds of houses using pictures they’ve drawn or cut-outs the teacher provides. Still others might be pasting small pictures of the types of houses on a map showing the different regions of North America. (For example, a hogan goes in the desert Southwest, whereas a chickee goes in the Southeast.)
• While some kids are drawing the water cycle on poster board, some kids are using a word bank and labeling the different segments of the cycle on a worksheet. Others might be listening to an aide or peer read a story about a rain drop.
• After listening to a mini-lesson about types of weather, some kids are either playing a Memory game with sorting cards (matching photos of weather to the names) or are writing sentences about each of the new vocabulary words. (Ex: A blizzard is a big snow storm. A hurricane has lots of wind and rain.)
• During a unit on the fairy tale genre, some kids are listening to Hans Christian Andersen stories on tape, and others are reading books. Some kids are writing reports on fairy tales, and others are identifying the different elements of a fairy tale in stories they’ve read, using a chart prepared by the teacher. Still others might be looking at a laminated illustration from a well-known fairy tale with an aide, who is asking them to point to various items in the picture.

Inclusion is not about keeping the kids busy and quiet. It’s about giving them opportunities to use the vocabulary and practice new skills related to whatever you are teaching.

It’s not about enabling them to continue to operate with limited skill sets; it’s about guiding them forward, onward, and upward within the context of their current levels.

It’s not about having higher-level students help them; it’s about letting them experience the curriculum with higher level students.

It’s a new responsibility for many general ed teachers, and a terrifying thing for us special ed teachers, whose natural instinct is often to keep our students sheltered from the large-group learning environment, where they may get lost or overwhelmed.

The key is careful and purposeful planning, with constant monitoring and ongoing assessment to determine next steps. Much of this is done by special educators, in addition to the work we are already doing.

         An inordinate number of kids are growing up without learning their multiplication facts.  Some of this is due to the prevalent use of calculators.  Some is due to the fact that there’s been an overall rejection of rote learning – throwing the baby out with the bathwater, in this case, I think.  Some of it is due to low numeracy as a result of math disabilities. 

         Many kids with learning disabilities really struggle with numbers and their values.  And, I think, it also has to do with processing memory and retention of information that isn’t used on a regular basis.

         I think there’s a place for rote learning of math facts in a demanding classroom.   The only way to learn multiplication facts and what happens when you add ten to a number is to recite them over and over in some way or another. 

         The way I use is skip-counting.  Skip-counting can be done starting at any age, and should continue to be done if not daily, then at least several times a week once the kids know the routine.

 I cannot stress enough the importance of visual cuing when it comes to math.  In this case, a giant number line, or individual number lines to 100 for each student are  in order.  You can also use individual multiplication charts or a giant one; the point is that the kids have to have the numbers 1-100 in front of them when they are skip-counting, at least during the first few months.

           A lot of teachers practice skip-counting with their students through 3, 4, and 5 multiplication facts, and then stop.  As a result, many kids know their multiplication facts through five, and can’t go higher.  Don’t let this happen.

         It can be a part of your daily routine to start with 3, and have the kids skip-count to 60.  Move to 4, then 5, and 6.  Once they know those, move to 7 and 8.  Practice them religiously.  I like to point at the numbers on a chart or number line with a pointer or a yardstick at first, but later it becomes a favorite reward for a student to be allowed to stand at the front of the class and cue the numbers. 

         It doesn’t take long for kids to internalize the facts as they continue to skip-count regularly.  But here’s the deal:  You can’t stop here. 

         One mistake I’ve seen over and over again is special educators working on skip-counting with their students and then never extending the skill into actual math problems.  And when I say “actual math problems,” I don’t mean a standard multiplication worksheet.  I mean math problems that require critical thinking.

         There’s no point in rote learning unless the information learned by rote is applied in complex situations.  Skip-counting alone, in a vacuum, has little meaning.  We need our students to be able to use the math facts to solve word problems, to reason through division problems, to figure out the value of x, and to  calculate prices and amounts. 

          So teach the multiplication facts by rote, but then require your students to use them, and use them in a variety of ways.  Only in this way will they truly be learning.

          In a demanding classroom, rote memorization has a place in supporting mastery of facts to be used in deeper-level situations.

Paraeducators–classroom aides in special education, including one-on-one aides–can do any number of things to help a child.  But a recent Google search I ran across got me thinking in terms of 10 (not to be confused a David Letterman Top Ten List).  All of this needs to be coordinated with your teachers of course, but here are my suggestions:

1. Never underestimate the child’s abilities. I like to observe a  new student for a couple of days before I read his or her IEP so I can see how he or she  compares to the other students, what the child’s behavior is like, etc, before I see what others have observed.   Be sure to read the “Present Levels of Performance” in the IEP so you know what they can already do.  Do not assume a child can’t do something just because he or she is in special education or is identified with autism or a “learning disability.”

2. Focus on the child’s strengths, not on the child’s deficits. Is he a visual learner?  Kinesthetic?  Does she type well?  Is he crazy about animals?  Does she love Harry Potter?  Find out as much as you can about the children’s areas of interest and strength and use these in creative ways to help them succeed at tasks or in subjects where they may have difficulty.

3. Build the child’s confidence. You do this not with false praise but with an honest appraisal of his or her strengths and successes, acknowledgement of areas in which the child can improve, and by giving him or her opportunities to practice new skills not yet mastered.

4. Allow the child to make mistakes.  We are quick to tell kids they learn from their mistakes and just as quick to not allow them to make them. It is tempting for an aide, especially a one-on-one, to correct the child’s work on the spot.  Don’t edit the child’s assignments for him.  It does NOT reflect poorly on you as an aide if the child’s work is imperfect.  It does reflect poorly on you if the child’s work is actually your work.

5. Gradually remove supports (the level of  assistance you provide a child).  Do not get stuck providing a certain level of support because it is comfortable for you and the child.  If you help with word processing, make the child take over more of that task.  If you reduce the assigned math homework, gradually increase the amount the child is expected to do.  I don’t throw the term lazy around carelessly, but I know (when I was new at this) that I have caused at least one child to become lazy because it was easier for me to do some things than deal with his unwillingness to do them himself.

6. Help the child get and stay organized. If you’re like me, you may first have to get organized yourself.  Make sure the older children use a calendar (agenda, planner) to keep track of assignments.  Color code folders to keep track of homework in different subject areas.  Whatever it takes.  But always coordinate with parents because no organization will work for long if it isn’t reinforced both at home and at school.

7. Don’t do for the child what his or her classmates routinely do for themselves.  Assuming no physical impediment, of course, make the child take responsibility for having daily supplies, following classroom routines, turning in homework, etc.  If the child depends on you for these things, you have failed.

8. Give the child responsibility for composing any writing assignment.  Writing is a two-step process: (1) putting thought into words–composing–and (2) putting words into text–typing or handwriting.  If a student cannot or will not handwrite or word process, it may be permissible to have the child dictate to you.  In that case, take down what he or she dictates word for word.  Ask where to put in punctuation.  Don’t correct as you go.  Let the child read what was dictated and make his or her own revisions.  Only then would I suggest any corrections or improvements.  Gradually remove this level of support.

9. Allow the child to interact with peers, even if those interactions aren’t always positive.  Some of our kids will have social interaction issues and do poorly in partner or group work.  If we work with them one-on-one we will want to minimize their friction with other students.  We should resist the temptation to step in and mediate all disputes or difficulties.  Let them learn from working through these problems.

10. Do not get into a power struggle with a child.  Back off.  Don’t threaten consequences you aren’t prepared to impose.  Keep your composure.  (Remember why you do this.  These kids are great!)

Remember your role is to help the child become independent.  When the child no longer needs you, you have succeeded!

         Kids with learning disabilities often struggle with reading comprehension.   As I stated in an earlier post, reading comprehension is a relationship with the written word comprised of a number of behaviors.  One of these behaviors is inferring.  

         Making inferences about characters, the setting, motives, the problem, and possible solutions requires that a reader move beyond literal comprehension and start putting pieces of the story together.  This is often very difficult for the struggling reader and when a child has expressive or receptive language deficits, it can be even more complicated.

         In General Education, we teach that making inferences while we read is like reading  between the lines to see what the author is showing us about what’s going on in the story.  This is an excellent explanation for most of us, but when a child is a concrete thinker who focuses almost entirely on the surface meaning of things, it doesn’t resonate very well.

          Students with learning disabilities who don’t make inferences while reading are not going to learn how to do so by explanation:  I can yack all I want about inferring and even model how it’s done, but that is unlikely to have positive results unless we get the kids to actually start doing it.

          And the way to do that is to show the kids that they already do make inferences, constantly, in their own lives.

          Start by taking a look at the types of inferences we all make each and every day: 

• We infer how people are feeling by their facial expressions and body language.
• We infer people’s attitudes by comments they make and tones of voice. 
• We make inferences about why our students are behaving certain ways based on what we know of their home situations, health, or relationships with their peers. 

           I like to tell the kids stories about real-life events and encourage them to recognize the inferences we make:

Me:  Yesterday morning, the sink in the kitchen was clogged, and my husband spent about 30 minutes before we left for school trying to fix it.  I was popping in and out to check on his progress while I was getting dressed.  He had his head in the plumbing and was giving these deep sighs, like this (sighing heavily) and muttering under his breath like this (muttering) and at one point he even cursed at the cats.  (Pause for comments.) 

Me:  Anyone?

Jonathan:  Oh, he was mad.

Sandra:  I bet he was frustrated! 

Me:  See, you two made excellent inferences!  Jonathan, what made you infer that he was angry? 

Jonathan:  He was cursing.  And that muttering thing. 

Me:  Yep, yep.  And Sandra, how did you know he was frustrated? 

Sandra:  He was sighing.  And muttering.  And my dad curses when he’s frustrated or mad. 

Me:  Terrific!  Both of you could support your inferences with info from my story.  Anyway, this afternoon when we came home, he called the plumber.  I had to go to the grocery store, so I missed it when the plumber got there.  But when I came home, Richard was calling to the bank to find out how much money we have in our account, and looking very serious.  He said “We might not be able to buy that new stereo this month.”  (Pause for comments.) 

Jayme:  He was disappointed. 

Simone:  It’s going to be expensive to fix the sink. 

Me:  Oh, wow!  Two good inferences!  Jayme, what made you infer that he was disappointed?

 Jayme:  Because he looked serious and he can’t buy the new stereo now.

 Me:  Ah, good!  Simone?  What makes you infer that the repair is going to cost a lot of money? 

Simone:  Because he had to call the bank. 

Me:  Anything else?

Tommy:  Because he won’t be able to afford the new stereo.

TIP:  Keep showing the kids how they already make a lot of inferences.  Name what they’re doing:  they won’t connect the fact that they’re making inferences with the reading strategy unless it has a name that is used frequently and that they understand through experience.

          The next step involves making inferences about visuals in print.  I like to use cartoons and comics.  I’ve got a bunch of them laminated that I pull out and let the kids mess with for awhile.  I like to listen to them talk about the pictures, and I ask some open-ended questions, such as “how do the people feel?”  “Why is he doing that?”  “What is the problem in this picture?” 

         When we have a share-out about the comics and illustrations, we identify all of the inferences that the kids have made.  Then I explain that they are going to learn how to do it when they read stories, too.  

         You can also have kids practice making inferences during read-aloud time.  When you are reading a high-interest story out loud, whether it’s Harry Potter, or The Book of Three, or Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, you can pause periodically and ask for some inferences.  Keep a chart of all of the inferences the students suggest, and ask them to track those inferences as the story moves on. 

         I like to have kids do some short-text inferring practice in guided reading groups and also independently before they move to practicing the strategy with their independent reading books.  You can throw together some paragraphs and multiple-choice or short answer worksheets that ask kids to make inferences about characters or situations based on passages.  I’ve included some here as examples.

         Practicing making inferences in independent reading work should take place over a period of time with accountability and exclusivity. 

• When I say “a period of time,” I mean that you should encourage and support the reader for between a week and a month as she or he develops competence in the strategy. 
• When I say “accountability,” I mean that your student needs to be able to show you the inferences being made.  Sometimes this can be by giving the child post-its and asking him or her to record each inference on a post-it during reading time and placing the post-it in the margin of the passage in question.  Then, during conferring time, you can talk about the inferences made and see how the child is thinking and processing.  This will give you insight into where there still may be some weaknesses and what supports you might need to add.
• When I say “exclusivity,” I mean that we should not ask a child to practice more than one brand-new comprehension strategy at a time.  Give the student time to develop strength and ability in making inferences, to gain experience in how it’s done and what it means during his or her independent reading. 

         There will be time later to work on other strategies.  In a demanding classroom, students learn one step at a time, strengthening each new facet of thinking until it can be added to their repertoire of skills.

         Kids with expressive and receptive language deficits need to learn how to use and understand words.    The speech section of the brain is an amazing thing, and synapses can be created, formed, and reformed without medical intervention.  It is by using and reusing words, practicing them in different contexts over and over again, that our students can overcome, or at least significantly diminish their language disabilities. 

         One of our favorite ways in the classroom is to play Jeopardy.

          I use Jeopardy games primarily for Social Studies, but it can be adapted for any content area.  All you need is some sort of board (I took a large portable bulletin board or white board, covered it with contact paper, and it can stand on an easel quite easily), a document camera, those little envelopes they put in books at the library (or laminated construction paper envelopes you affix to the board), and index cards. 

         I keep five columns of four card slots each on the board at all times.  Then I can switch around the categories and the answer cards with ease.

NOTE:  Our school district is putting smart boards, or Promethean Activboard smart boards in all of our classrooms.  (Lucky us!) This is going to change the way I do Jeopardy because I can set up a Jeopardy game right on the computer and work with it on the smart board.  But I haven’t done that yet.

         If you’re not familiar with the television game show, Jeopardy, it’s essentially a trivia game where the answers are provided and the contestants have to formulate the correct questions.  In a demanding classroom, we play Jeopardy at least once a week, sometimes twice, depending on where we are in a social studies unit, and our games last anywhere from 40 minutes to an hour and a half, depending on how much fun the kids are having.  And they have a lot of fun.

          All of the “trivia” in our games consists of information from our current social studies unit. 

TIP:  As the year goes on, our Jeopardy game may expand to include prior units.  Thus, at the end of last year, one category was about ancient India, one about ancient China, one about ancient Mesopotamia, and on category was just about vocabulary related to history.

         Most of the time, the categories are something like this:  geography, lifestyle, religion, leaders.  But that is not cut in stone; we often have a vocabulary category, one on military matters, one about trade, one about inventions.  It just depends, as I said, on where we are in the unit.

          I will preface my description of the game by saying that you should not have high expectations at first.  At the beginning of the year, students will just not do very well and will need lots and lots of coaching and extra time.  Even later in the year, in the early part of a unit, kids just aren’t as familiar with the facts as they will be.  What’s amazing is that within a matter of a day or two, the kids are really learning, integrating the facts, internalizing the information, which is better than simple memorization.  And did I mention they are having FUN?

How do I know this?  Because years later, my students are able to discuss with ease historical facts and ideas and concepts that they learned long ago in our classroom.  My student teacher, on a tour of the school by one of my students this year, was treated to a long description of  prehistoric humans and the development of key concepts including domestication of animals and plants, inventions of new tools, and ideas about religion and nature.  Another of my students from years ago recently texted me that he got an A in world history in high school because he had so much background knowledge from our sixth and seventh grade history class.

         Jeopardy is played, at the beginning, with teams of two or three students.  You’ll find that as the year progresses, many students want to play alone, and others will still want a partner.  This is fine.  It’s great, even.  And you’ll be amazed at who emerges as the stars of the game, confident in their ability to formulate correct questions properly.

         I have prewritten the answers on index cards and put them in the slots or envelopes on the Jeopardy board before we begin. (when the kids see me changing the cards earlier in the day, they get excited knowing that we’re going to play – they really look forward to it.)

          The first team picks a category and an amount (I have 100, 200, 300 and 500 points as our amounts, but you can use any numbers you like).  I pull the appropriate card, and show it under the document camera.  (This is a big help to those kids who are visual learners and need to see the words of the “answer,” not just hear them.)  I remind the team to put their response in question form.  I don’t use a timer, because I want the kids to feel pretty relaxed as they figure out their response and put it in the proper words.

 An example of an “answer” might be:  Wheat and barley.  The proper question could be:  “What grains did the ancient Mesopotamian farmers raise?” or “What are two grains domesticated by Mesopotamian  farmers?” 

         Periodically, I do a mini lesson or reminder lesson about clues we can use to determine the question form.  Sometimes, the kids need reminders, for example, that an answer that contains a date needs a question that starts with “when”, or that a location implies a “where” question.  Often, however, I’ll catch kids coaching each other on this, even if they are on different teams.

         According to our former Speech Language Pathologist, the effort of thought it takes the kids to use the answer/fact to form a question is a challenge that results in significant improvements in their speech skills.  We’ve noticed a huge jump in confidence, mastery of facts and concepts with great ease, and a terrific increase in use of rich vocabulary and complex sentences.  

         We also have a classroom full of history buffs, who are proud to demonstrate their mastery and expertise  both orally and in writing. 

          In a demanding classroom, kids talk about information in a variety of ways instead of just repeating back what we tell them.

         I post on a lot of message boards about learning disabilities and autism, and I also get a lot of emails from people who are following my blogs.  One of the most frequent topics is:  how a teacher told a parent that a student “doesn’t have reading comprehension.”

         Naturally, the parents want to know what to do. 

         The problem, of course, is that reading comprehension isn’t something you “HAVE” or “GET”, as in purchasing at a store or obtaining through a tutor.  You can’t put it on and take it off like a sweater, and you can’t keep it in the fridge until you need it.

         Reading comprehension is all about a reader’s relationship to text, and is based almost entirely on his or  her engagement and interaction with the piece being read.  It’s the relationship.  Relationship, relationship, relationship.

         Thinking of it in terms of a relationship leads me to the next step, which is to ask whether, when a friend discusses  a relationship that is flawed or failing, we simply let him or her  say “it’s not good” and leave it at that, or whether we start probing and asking questions to try to piece out what’s going on (or not going on).

         If you’re the kind of person who runs a demanding classroom, that’s exactly what you do.

What is this relationship with text made up of? 

         What behaviors does one see in a good relationship with text?  I’m ready to talk about a few, and will post more at another time.

         We’ll start with fiction and narrative.  (The relationship a reader has with informational, non-fiction text involves some different behaviors, so that will be the topic of another post.)  Research has shown that good readers of fiction do a number of different things when they read: 

• They visualize what they are reading about.  Like a movie in one’s head, a good reader sees what the text is describing.  This helps the reader enter into the world of the story, and leads to all sorts of other behaviors we like to see.
• They make inferences based on what they’re reading.  Good readers know that, in the best stories, the author shows you what’s happening instead of telling you directly, and they are able to infer ideas, feelings, and motives, not to mention facts, from what the author does with words.
• They ask questions as they read.  Lots of questions, knowing that they will find the answers in the story as it moves along.  This is done especially when they are trying to figure out what is going on, but also when they are thinking about things like character motives, and the conflict in the story.
• They use their background knowledge (personal, and from other stories they’ve read, as well as knowledge about the genre) to make predictions.  A good reader is going to know in a fantasy novel that there is going to be a struggle between good and evil, and that magical or fantastical creatures are probably going to play a role in the battle.  A good reader is going to use her personal knowledge of what it’s like to be the youngest in the family to predict how a baby sister may react during a family holiday. 
• They make connections between their own experiences and feelings and those of characters in the book.  They also make connections between world events and issues and people and events in the book.  And they make connections between stories, comparing one character in a book to a character in another book, etc.
• They check for understanding, pausing periodically to make sure they know what’s happening, and going back and re-reading if it’s unclear to them.

         It is our obligation as teachers to investigate, when a child clearly isn’t understanding what she or he is reading, what behaviors the child is engaging in, and what reading behaviors are weak.  It is based on this information that we can devise interventions that work, supports that help the child begin to make meaning from text.

         In a demanding classroom, the staff pays attention to each reader, keeping notes or logs about conferring sessions, guided reading interactions, and other data that will help them determine what skills to teach next. 

          In a demanding classroom, the teacher can, with pretty good specificity, explain to parents and colleagues what particular areas of need the child has with regard to his or her relationship to a book or story. 

          And in a demanding classroom, a report at a parent conference that “Johnny doesn’t understand what he’s reading” is followed immediately by  “and I have observed him and conferred with him, and I think here’s what’s going on and what our next steps should be.” 

For more of my posts on reading comprehension teaching strategies, see our other blog, Readers With Autism: http://readerswithautism.com .

         I’m all in favor of worksheets, as long as they are challenging, require the students to write complete thoughts with detail as opposed to one-word answers, and as long as they are designed for a purpose other than just seat work. 

         The danger of using worksheets in a special ed classroom is that you will inadvertently or through ignorance keep the kids at the most basic levels of  intellectual behavior. 

          We want the kids to move up, not remain static.  This can be done when the information and concepts they learn are re-enforced at ever-increasing levels of intellectual demand.

          I use worksheets in social studies and science to teach and re-enforce students’ independent thinking and learning.  They are designed to get kids thinking, finding information that they’ve learned already, and using it appropriately.  When the system works well, it creates a ladder upwards for kids to move through the critical thinking levels of Bloom’s Taxonomy:

         In many special ed classrooms, students stay at the Knowledge level and never proceed upwards.  In others, Knowledge and Understanding are the sum total of the instructional plan.

         Such limitations will re-enforce student reliance on adults for learning. 

         Such limitations will teach kids that learning is all about knowledge, not what you do with it.

We use charts, and more charts 

        In a typical unit of Social Studies, we will create 5-10 charts of information about a culture, civilization, or era.

          I like to create “thinking maps” (also known as “mindmaps”) while we’re studying, and use different colors of marker to delineate the categories of data we are taking in. 

         We also create mindmaps that have a standard organization; for example, kids know that “Lifestyles” is usually on the right hand side of the “spider,” and time periods and locations are in the upper left and upper middle of the map.

         These charts are posted all around the room or pulled off of hangers to display when we are doing content-area work.  They are used for a variety of activity types, all designed to promote ever-increasing critical thinking among the students. 

         The purpose is for kids to learn where to find and retrieve information that they learn. I don’t require them to memorize historical information.  They will, of course, by the time we’re done with a unit, but the goal is actually for them to be able to apply the facts to ongoing themes of understanding and analyze these themes as we continue to learn.

          I create worksheets several times per week throughout the course of a unit.   When we begin to study a topic, the questions are all knowledge-based: 

• When did Menes unify Upper and Lower Egypt? 
• Where did Homo Habilis live? 
• Which tribes lived in the southeast region of North America?
• Who paid for the Mayflower Pilgrims’ passage to America? 
• List two grains grown by colonists in Virginia.

         Students are encouraged to get up and move around the room looking for the answers to the questions.   (See related topic, “Moving into Learning.”)   They quickly learn in my classroom that they can predict where they’ll find information, using the color-coded organization of the mindmaps. 

I repeat questions using different forms and formats, because I do want the kids to begin to really internalize the facts.  Thus, in almost every worksheet on the Ancient Maya, I’ll have similar questions about religion, clothing, food, and government.  Similar, but not identical, because I want kids to see that we can think of the same information in different ways.

         As we progress through the unit and the kids do more and more searching for and finding facts, the information begins to embed into the kids’ memory banks.  As this happens, I want them to start using the information they have more readily available, and I want them to  think more deeply about the information.

         My questions become more complex or demanding.  I might begin to ask: 

• What did Menes do to symbolize his control over both Upper and Lower Egypt? 
• Why didn’t Homo Habilis eat a lot of meat? 
• Why did many tribes in the southeast region have separate villages in the summer and winter? 
• Why did the  Virginia Company agreed to lend the Pilgrims the money to travel to America?  
• Why didn’t the colonists in Connecticut grow rice?

TIP:  One of the first things we decide in my class at the beginning of the year is how to answer questions. 

We decide what constitutes knowledge and what shows that someone is a smart thinker.  We decide that one or two word answers do not show either knowledge or smart thinking.  We determine that all questions should be answered in complete sentences, unless I specifically state otherwise. 

         We also decide that the use of appropriate word choice is important.  This is something that we work on strengthening throughout the year, and expectations raise as we go.  Within a few months, kids know that verbs such as  “were” and “had” need to be abandoned in favor of more specific ones, such as “resided,” “lived,” “created,” or “contained.”  “Many” and “numerous” replace “a lot.”  “Crafts,” “artifacts,” “tools,” and “belongings” are used instead of “things.”

         Later questions are more open-ended and require the kids to utilize the facts to come to and defend conclusions.  I might give a short paragraph describing an archeological excavation in Spain that uncovers a small settlement used by prehistoric peoples.  Archeologists find remnants of a campfire with animal bones, and a hand axe.  The time period in which they were used is approximately 1.5 million years ago. 

         The kids are asked to identify the probable species of early human who used the settlement, and explain their reasoning.   I will expect them to discuss the use of fire and tools as well as the time period to substantiate their conclusion that it belonged to Homo Erectus.

          By the middle of the year when we study Ancient Civilizations, my students are expected to answer the following question: 

If you were an archeologist wanting to begin an excavation in Ancient China looking for the remnants of the earliest settlements, what points would you look for on a map and why?

         I would expect all of my students to be able to articulate that one would look near a fresh water source, because people needed water to drink and to water their crops. 

         By mid-year, I expect my students to be describing  the types of information they are going to learn when they open to the newest unit in the textbook, and to make predictions using their considerable bank of background knowledge about what each culture or civilization contained as it grew and developed.

         In a demanding classroom, kids are expected to retrieve and use information, not just have it.