By Sara Finegan

When we’re working with kids who struggle to learn, there are several things at play within us:

• Compassion – who doesn’t remember times when we were trying to learn something and found it hard?  And when we remember, don’t those awful feelings of frustration and panic come right back up?
• Desire to nurture – you don’t have to be a parent to feel that primal urge to take care of, to coddle and to make things easy and lovely for someone.
• Urgency – whether you’re in a separate classroom or in the middle of a group of gen. ed kids, there are deadlines and we can’t spend 6 hours learning how to carry and borrow right this minute.
• Curiosity and interest – I don’t know about you, but I’m fascinated by how my students’ minds process information and learn new things.  When I’m working directly with a child, I am utterly absorbed with what I’m seeing and hearing from them – even if what I’m hearing is silence.  I’m watching and noting the smallest details, and putting those details together with others and reframing my picture of the kiddo.
• Jumping ahead – There’s a part of me that is always looking forward to the desired outcome, the longterm one.  As I observe and show a child what to do now, I am thinking about how to release the responsibility fully back to him or her, and what I want to see him/her do. 

Many of these factors war with one another, and I think it’s a learned skill to master them sufficiently to be able to give just the proper support to an individual or small group of kids.  I often have to deal with the “urgency” factor by mentally chunking what we’re doing into smaller increments and focusing on just getting one tiny step done now, with the rest to come later. 

I frequently have to remind myself that I’m not the one who is struggling right now, so get over it.  And it is absolutely essential that I control my mothering instinct, because if I didn’t, I’d be an enabler or a crutch, not a teacher.

More damage is done to kids by helping them than by not.   That may sound far-fetched, but I believe it to be so.   We’re often so busy sheltering and scaffolding and supporting kids that we forget to release responsibility back to them, and as a result, kids are dependent on us.     

Who hasn’t worked with a child who quite obviously doesn’t know how to persevere and try a bunch of different ways to solve a problem?  Who hasn’t encountered a kiddo who says “I dunno” within 2 seconds of realizing he doesn’t know the answer?  What about those kids we see, in every school, who are passive learners, expecting everything to come to them, rather than reaching out and grabbing at knowledge? 

On my caseload over the years, I’ve seen quite a few.  In some years, they have approached the majority of my students; in others, about a third.

It’s not the kids’ fault.  It’s ours.  We’ve helped too much in the wrong way.

This doesn’t mean that we need to stop providing support .  It means that we need to change the manner in which we support, and be ever-vigilant about the effects of our help.  

Watch yourself.  Catch yourself if you:

• Find yourself giving the answer when the child should be finding it himself.
• Are jumping in to a silence instead of giving a child extra time to think and respond.
• Are cutting corners to get through a task with a child faster than he or she can process or work
• Are feeling frustrated and impatient – maybe you’ve taken on too much with the child
• Think, even subconsciously, that getting it right is more important than learning it. 

We are all susceptible to lapses, of course.  But the more we let the child do the thinking , reasoning, puzzling and work, the more he will be learning.

chunking · high expectations · independence · role · Sara Finegan · support · supports · teaching strategies · tips

By Sara Finegan

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.

accessing grade-level · accommodations · classroom aides · cognitive impairments · differentiated instruction · differentiated learning · frustration · general education · learning disabilities · Paraeducators · resource · rigorous instruction · Sara Finegan · socialization · sorting cards · special day class · special education · student monitoring · supports

By Sara Finegan

I’ve spent my free time during the last month preparing learning activities for students along a wide spectrum of disabilities in third, fourth and fifth grade science and social studies.

I had a lot of free time, as I had not one, but two student teachers, who basically took over my classroom.  The job of a master teacher like me is to monitor and support, and since my tendency is to want to jump in a lot, I keep myself from doing so by working on related tasks.  More about the tasks I chose later.

Two things have rocked my world as a teacher this spring:

1. My school has lost one special education position, and despite my rather extensive years at the district, I’m junior in seniority at my school, so I get to go.
2. My school administrator has opted to take our school three giant steps in the direction of full inclusion by eliminating our Special Day Classes, so all of our kiddos are now going to be mainstreamed next year.

I’ve had several months to adjust to the fact that I am going to be at another school next year and to organize and sort my “stuff” preparatory to packing.  I’ve also had several months to listen to my general ed colleagues, hear the worry in their voices as they wonder how to accommodate kids with profound learning disabilities in their classrooms with less special education support, and to decide what to do about that.

What I’ve done is to create unit-by-unit resource bins and binders for our third, fourth and fifth grade science and social studies classes that contain activities and learning materials from the very lowest, pre-K level up to the third-grade level.    Gen ed and special ed staff can easily pull what they need to support everyone from the barely-verbal fifth grader with a four-year-old intellect to the fourth grader with autism and hyperactivity who becomes overwhelmed by words and activity around him.

The first thing I did was to look at the grade-level standards and pull strands that I thought kids at every level could access.  I delved into my own resource bank and our school’s book room and pulled books at every level that related in some way to each of the standards.   I located materials on the internet that pertain to the standards and downloaded them.  And what I couldn’t find, I wrote myself.

At the end of the my final day at the school, I had created boxes of books, sorting cards, stories, readers theater scripts, and art projects for each of the science and social studies units.    Each box has a binder containing a variety of materials and lesson ideas, plus coloring pages and other things for kids to do with support or on their own.

My hope is that the easily-accessible materials will allow kids to stay in the gen ed classroom with modified assignments and materials instead of becoming so frustrated that they need to leave.  My other hope is that my gen ed colleagues will have less stress as they begin this new phase of inclusion and that they will see, as they implement the lessons and pull activities and books to use, how they can continue the planning and gathering work in future years.

In the next few posts on The Demanding Classroom, I will talk about the work involved in preparing for inclusion and the tasks that gen ed and special ed staff face as we support all of our kids to learn grade level, standards-based curriculum.

general education · grade-level standards · Inclusion · lesson planning · modifications · readers theater · Sara Finegan · science · social studies · sorting cards · special day class · special education · standards · supports

By Richard Finegan

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!

abilities · autism · classroom aides · composition · confidence · dictation · general education · IEPs · Inclusion · independence · learning disabilities · mistakes · one-on-one · organization · paraeducator · paraprofessionals · peer interactions · praise · present levels · Richard Finegan · role · special education · strengths · supports

By Sara Finegan

         I’m teaching a general education math class this year that includes many of my own kids with learning disabilities as well as kids who do not have IEPs.  We’re  about six days behind the other class at the same grade level, and both of us finished the first two units well before the district’s first math benchmark assessment. 

          Greg Roy, my general education colleague, has, as I have said before on this blog, taught me a great deal about math and math instruction.   He and I disagree about mastery, by the way, but that doesn’t impair our ability to collaborate.   He moves at his speed, and I move at a different one,  but we’re both moving forward.

          Anyway, Greg’s a proponent of math routines, and he does them at the beginning of the day as well as at the beginning of a math class.  Routines are great, for several reasons. 

          • First, they provide kids with ongoing practice of previously-learned skills.  My routines always have problems from lessons we have worked on since the beginning of the year – usually types of problems the kids struggled with mightily, so that the skills will become firmly embedded. 

(A recent math routine had a word problem involving adding negative numbers, 2 fraction simplifications, 1 changing from mixed fraction to improper fraction, 1 changing improper fraction to a mixed number, and 2 dealing with multiplying decimals by 10, because my kids bombed that area on the last unit test for some reason, as well as a problem from yesterday’s lesson.)

         The kids get to use their notes and math encyclopedias on the routines, and we go over the results really quickly.  The whole thing takes about 15 minutes each day. 

         • The second benefit of a daily routine is that they give you a snapshot of each student at that moment.  This is particularly helpful as you plan your instruction.  I can tell at a glance how many of the kids in my class have mastered yesterday’s lesson or skill, and what the next steps might be.  Because I make my kids show their work on each routine, I can pinpoint where in the process of problem-solving they are struggling. 

          • Finally they give kids a terrific sense of competence.  As they experience over a series of weeks and months the increasing ease of solving problems using skills they’ve learned, they realize that they can do it, that they are actually good at it. 

         The other day, a parent of one of my general education math students told me that her daughter, who has always struggled with math, is coming home saying “hey, mom!  I’m smart at math!”  This student is the first to raise her hand in my class, the first to want to show the class how she solved a problem, the first to ask questions, and the first to finish her work these days.  It’s not because of me; it’s because every day, when she starts learning math, she is reminded that she’s already got terrific skills.

          Many special educators neglect daily routines, or don’t make their routines as comprehensive as they should be.  We need to recognize that our kids should have multiple opportunities, over a long period of time, to practice newly-mastered skills, or those skills will evaporate like steam after a shower. 

          We need to challenge our kids daily, while at the same time reminding them that they have ability already, or they will never challenge themselves, and never remind themselves of how far they’ve come.

          We need to push, push, push our kids, using all of their strengths, innate and learned, or they will never catch up to their general education peers. 

          In a demanding classroom, mastery is not something to be admired and then ignored; it’s about skill sets we use, reuse, and apply in newer ways on a regular basis.

demanding classroom · high expectations · learning disabled · mastery · math instruction · proficiency · rigor · rigorous instruction · routines · Sara Finegan · skills practice · special education · standards · student monitoring · supports