At the risk of taking a controversial and unpopular point of view, I am going to agree with the point of view of the author that there are problems with the way IDEA is being applied in schools with reference to labeling - and use a personal example to illustrate why I pose this argument. This being said, I do not think that the term disability is a negative term, nor do I think it is a bad thing to offer support to those who need it. However, the problem seems to stem from the assessment and labeling process and what this implies in terms of student self-identity, as well as state funding.
While the principle concept of IDEA is rooted in noble claims, being the equal educational opportunity and “free appropriate public education” for children with disabilities, the mandate has been carried out in a bureaucratic and inefficient way. I had not realized the financial implications of this law in the public schools and found this quite disheartening. In reality, though, bureaucracy and fiscal mishaps are a natural part of our democratic process and the challenges of creating systemic change. More perturbing to me, this article addressed an issue with which I’ve had personal experience – that is, the pervasive acceptance within the school systems and parents of the “specific learning disability” label, and the potential negative consequences of using the label with reckless abandon.
During graduate school, I nannied for a child who I will assign the fake name of Bentley for the purpose of this article beginning at the age of 4 months. After graduate school I continued nannying just one night a week to maintain the relationship with the family and the child I had grown to love so much. In December, I received a phone call from the mother crying. The pre-school teachers were having significant behavior problems with Bentley. She told me that he had been undergoing occupational therapy for balance issues and sensory integration. He had been evaluated by a psychologist who diagnosed him with social delays and sensory integration issues, and recommended a Facilitator to come into the school to help him. Due to his age, it was too early to accurately diagnose, but the psychologist believed his problems were symptoms of a developing specific learning disability and/or a social or emotional disorder compounded by his physical sensory integration issues. The mother asked me if I could go into the school as a Facilitator. She felt very confused by the reports, because the behavior described by both teachers and the psychologist were behaviors she did not see at home. She knew that I understood Bentley well, and would be able to put his situation into context, given my knowledge of his behavior outside of the school environment.
I worked as a Facilitator for four months, each week writing reports on Bentley’s challenges and progress. When I first came into the school, I, too, was shocked by behavior that seemed completely out of character. Clearly, Bentley was a little smaller than the other children and I could see the balance and body issues that the occupational therapist was working with him to mature. However, the behavior, social and learning aspects were initially an enigma to me. As I observed and facilitated him over time, I began to see how Bentley’s temperament was being misconstrued as a social and/or learning delay. From quite a young age, I’ve known Bentley to be extremely imaginative and also an introvert. He loves becoming absorbed in imaginative play and tasks that utilize creativity. As an introvert, he can become overstimulated, and does not like loud noises or chaotic environments. He needs personal space and in many ways walks to the beat of his own drum.
In this particular preschool environment, children are rewarded and encouraged for being generalists, not specialists. If they play too long with one thing, they are pushed to try new things. They are also pushed to interact with many different children, rather than latching on and befriending one. What I noticed and began writing about in my reports was how Bentley was being shuffled along with the crowd, rather than appreciated for his own unique style, and the behavior problems stemmed from his being pushed too hard to be someone else.
I felt that the teachers (and psychologist) were too quick to want to label him as learning disabled or having a social emotional disorder - recommending he change schools the following year to one specializing in these areas. They were frustrated and telling the mother that he should go to a special school and would only continue having problems integrating. I could understand why they might jump to this conclusion given his stubbornness and fits in the classroom; but I knew that this was not the right answer for Bentley. If I felt they were right and this was in his best interests, I would have gladly agreed with them – but I needed to stand up for this child who I thought was being misunderstood.
So I continued with my reports and analysis, which ruffled feathers across the board. No one wanted to accept the idea that it was perhaps the environment and the structure of the classes that impacted Bentley’s behavior. Nature, not nurture, is all the rage right now - and that was how they wanted to view his problem. Admittedly, certain aspects of his nature contributed to the problem – such as his balance and sensory integration issues that made him feel a insecure and inadequate around the other larger, more confident kids. To me, his deficits seemed on a physical and maturity level, thus impacting his social and emotional development in the classroom, but not related to a learning disability.
The mother called a meeting with the teachers, psychologist and principal – and they developed a plan based on my feedback to change some aspects of the environment. Bentley was given more permission to play longer with toys or one particular friend, the music was softened, and the teachers made efforts to provide Bentley with personal space when he seemed overstimulated. At the same time, as a Facilitator and someone Bentley could trust, I continued encouraging him to stretch out of his comfort zone with the other kids and activities to push his social/emotional development. The combination of encouragement while also recognizing his unique needs and accommodating for them led to drastic improvement. By the end of the year, Bentley was more confident, communicating more actively with his peers, and fully integrated and happy in the classroom. He will be continuing next year at the same school, and has been assessed as almost completely caught up to the other students in physical and social development. The potential label of "specific learning disability" is no longer on the table.
I absolutely believe that the teachers shift in their perspective of Bentley made a huge difference in his dramatic change. We are told as teachers that students will live up to our expectations. So if we quickly label students who have a more shy temperament and need for personal space as “socially delayed” or "learning disabled" and needing to be molded to look like all the other students, then they may live up to those expectations and act accordingly. If we see those same students as different in a positive way, perhaps having unique contributions different from the other students (such as heightened creativity, imagination, etc.), then that child can live up to those expectations, feeling proud to be a little different, but still accepted as part of the group.
Bentley was lucky that his mother could pay for a certified teacher and Facilitator to come into the classroom. Not all children have parents with this financial luxury. Additionally, not all students can afford to be in private schools where more flexibility exists in the system and process of diagnosing and labeling. This is where I will link my personal anecdotal story back to the IDEA article.
While I’m not sure I completely agree with the author’s argument to completely remove “specific learning disabilities” label from the IDEA law, there needs to be some change in how and when students are assessed. The article addresses the problem of overrepresentation for minorities in severe categories and affluent students in mild categories, with little room for parental choice or advocacy. There is a problem with how students are being assessed where many students who need the help are not receiving it, and others are being mislabeled and utilizing resources that need to be more accurately allocated. Once the student has been labeled by the system, they are placed on a track that may or may not be helpful for their learning, and could be damaging to self-identity if inadequately diagnosed.
With the strong focus on labels, I fear that the emphasis and attention of the teachers, psychologists, principals and even parents gets placed on what’s “wrong” rather than what’s working and how can we make things work better. In this sense, I relate to the author’s opinion of shifting the focus from process to performance. Let’s look at where the students excel and in what ways they are falling behind and consider specific strategies to assist them in those behaviors. Many students who might now fall in the “specific learning disability” category perhaps could thrive better with a shift in expectations and no label. Maybe, given a little time and space, these students can be more accurately assessed – why act so quickly to label in a way that might impact them for the rest of their lives? Students who have physical or psychological disabilities that can be more accurately diagnosed certainly need the aid provided by this law and can hugely benefit from it. But with a category that is more loosely defined and less accurately assessed, it seems like it could hurt the student as much as help, as well as putting a financial strain on the system. At the very least - I suggest a waiting period in assessing students with SLD, recognizing that environmental influences and physical, social and emotional development can sometimes hinder the student's learning process in a way that may look like a learning disability.
