One of my favorite parts of the Passover seder is the four children, who were sons when I grew up, but now include daughters as well. This section of the readings highlights the idea that children are different and that we must relate to each by meeting him/her where s/he is at. So the responses each receives is as different as the question they pose.
Imagine my surprise at a Hebrew College class a few years ago when the daughter of a Chabad rabbi told how her father taught her about the fifth child – the one who isn’t even at the table to ask a question. She explained that this is the Chabad mission to find those who are so disenfranchised and detached from their Judaism and to bring them to the table.
I love this midrash, not only because it so clearly explains Chabad outreach efforts, but because it makes me think about all those who aren’t visibly part of our Jewish community – in synagogues or even at their family seders.
I am reminded of the parents of a child with special needs who no longer celebrates seders with their family because their sibling is uncomfortable around their child who has difficulty chewing and swallowing. I think of the family whose child complains bitterly about attending the family seder. Her reading disability is front and center at the seder because of the family ritual of “round robin” reading of the Haggadah. Such reading, in English or Hebrew, was introduced to make their seder more participatory! I think of the family who no longer joins their extended family because the home where the seder takes place is not wheelchair accessible. Then there are the cousins who seem to be playing so well while waiting for the adults to finish the meal, but are too loud for one of the adults. When the children are told to be quieter, the uncle is told to “just close the door.” The uncle returns to the adults and has a tirade about his nephew’s rude behavior. Who’s the child in this situation, the uncle or the boy who has Asperger’s?
Yes, each of these situations could be easily improved through a rational discussion that could lead to a truly more inclusive seder for all family members. But families aren’t always rational or always sensitive or even sometimes aware of the impact of their actions and words.
So the four children continue to serve as a model for all of us to be more inclusive, to respect each person’s needs, and to really see all the people who are at our seder as well as all the “fifth children” who aren’t.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Grandchild Dreams - and Nightmares
Awaiting the birth of my first grandchild awakens me at night with concerns and worries. While I sailed through my own pregnancies, ignoring thoughts of any possible complications that could arise, they now fill my mind.
I tell my daughter and son-in-law their lives will never be the same once this baby is born, that raising a child is the most awesome and important work of anyone’s life. But I don’t tell them about Kingsley’s piece, “Welcome to Holland,” a reading I have shared with so many students, teachers, and parents. Nor do I tell them about the information on how parents adjust to having a child with disabilities, the research on the grieving process they go through. People ask about the child’s sex – do we know if it’s a boy or girl? do we want a boy or girl? I think, “I really don’t care” – all I obsess about is its health. Despite all the prenatal tests coming back perfect, I know there are no guarantees in life.
Then I move past my nightmares, and dream about a girl who could inherit her mother’s toys. Then I dream about a boy who would bring a new adventure and could also play with his mother’s toys. Then I dream about watching my daughter mother her own daughter. Then I dream about watching my daughter mother a son. Then I dream about a safe world that this child will hopefully inherit.
In the end, I know we will love, support and nurture this new addition to the family and bring out his or her potential, yet to be determined. It’s not really about having expectations; it’s about having dreams and hopes and knowing that those dreams and hopes will change over time as we get to know this real child – the very healthy baby girl born March 27, 2008.
I tell my daughter and son-in-law their lives will never be the same once this baby is born, that raising a child is the most awesome and important work of anyone’s life. But I don’t tell them about Kingsley’s piece, “Welcome to Holland,” a reading I have shared with so many students, teachers, and parents. Nor do I tell them about the information on how parents adjust to having a child with disabilities, the research on the grieving process they go through. People ask about the child’s sex – do we know if it’s a boy or girl? do we want a boy or girl? I think, “I really don’t care” – all I obsess about is its health. Despite all the prenatal tests coming back perfect, I know there are no guarantees in life.
Then I move past my nightmares, and dream about a girl who could inherit her mother’s toys. Then I dream about a boy who would bring a new adventure and could also play with his mother’s toys. Then I dream about watching my daughter mother her own daughter. Then I dream about watching my daughter mother a son. Then I dream about a safe world that this child will hopefully inherit.
In the end, I know we will love, support and nurture this new addition to the family and bring out his or her potential, yet to be determined. It’s not really about having expectations; it’s about having dreams and hopes and knowing that those dreams and hopes will change over time as we get to know this real child – the very healthy baby girl born March 27, 2008.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Learning from Lior
Somehow we get caught up in the details of life and work we kind of lose track of the big picture. At work there are emails to respond to, calls to return, memos to write, meetings with students and colleagues. At home there are also emails and calls, laundry, shopping, and meal preparation. Time to relax? Time to remember why you work anyway? Time for yourself? Actually, time seems to disappear before my eyes, with the clock and the calendar moving faster than I ever thought possible!
And then once in a while, something comes along and you have an “ah, ha” moment when the big picture stares you in the face. Watching the movie “Praying with Lior” provides such a moment. This movie, ostensibly about a boy with Down syndrome preparing for his Bar Mitzvah, is so much more than that. True, the producer, Ilana Trachtman, has captured Lior and his family and friends and his Bar Mitzvah, but really, she has captured life with all its perplexing questions.
That the movie is a moving tribute to living with a child with Down syndrome is clear. Definitely a two handkerchief movie! But it is also a humorous one – laughter through the tears. More than that, it is a picture of a family, devastated by their mother’s early death from breast cancer, who move on with their lives, integrating their father’s remarriage and living with a son and sibling with special needs. It portrays Lior as a boy remembering his mother, loving his stepmother, and loving his Judaism expressed through his praying with fervor and belief. It portrays Modechai, Lior’s father, worrying about this Bar Mitzvah’s meaning, examining his dream, hopes, and expectations. It portrays Lior’s siblings, each with their own fears, realities, pride and love for their brother. It portrays Lynne, his stepmother, who gives space for the family’s memories of their mother while establishing her own role in nurturing and loving the family. It portrays a community that provides support and continuity.
As a special educator and teacher educator, I found the scenes of Lior at school and the interviews of his classmates mesmerizing. Here is an Orthodox school that includes Lior and provides not just a warm place where he thrives, but where his classmates are also his friends. From their words, we see how much they have gained because Lior has been a part of their school years. They respect his differences, care about him, and learn from him. Here’s an example of a school and students who really “get it.” Lior’s classmates have thought about the challenges he faces and it clarifies their own choices as they live their lives. Yes, this is what inclusion is about, providing important life lessons for everyone involved.
And this is what special education is really all about – we teach to enable each person to reach their potential, we learn from each other, and the process enables all of us to be better people. And this movie has captured it all – memories, continuation, spirituality, friendship, love, pride, and community. And this is why, through the tears and laughter, it provides an “ah ha” moment of utmost clarity.
If you haven’t yet seen the movie, find out where it’s playing at www.prayingwithlior.com and run, don’t walk, to see it!
And then once in a while, something comes along and you have an “ah, ha” moment when the big picture stares you in the face. Watching the movie “Praying with Lior” provides such a moment. This movie, ostensibly about a boy with Down syndrome preparing for his Bar Mitzvah, is so much more than that. True, the producer, Ilana Trachtman, has captured Lior and his family and friends and his Bar Mitzvah, but really, she has captured life with all its perplexing questions.
That the movie is a moving tribute to living with a child with Down syndrome is clear. Definitely a two handkerchief movie! But it is also a humorous one – laughter through the tears. More than that, it is a picture of a family, devastated by their mother’s early death from breast cancer, who move on with their lives, integrating their father’s remarriage and living with a son and sibling with special needs. It portrays Lior as a boy remembering his mother, loving his stepmother, and loving his Judaism expressed through his praying with fervor and belief. It portrays Modechai, Lior’s father, worrying about this Bar Mitzvah’s meaning, examining his dream, hopes, and expectations. It portrays Lior’s siblings, each with their own fears, realities, pride and love for their brother. It portrays Lynne, his stepmother, who gives space for the family’s memories of their mother while establishing her own role in nurturing and loving the family. It portrays a community that provides support and continuity.
As a special educator and teacher educator, I found the scenes of Lior at school and the interviews of his classmates mesmerizing. Here is an Orthodox school that includes Lior and provides not just a warm place where he thrives, but where his classmates are also his friends. From their words, we see how much they have gained because Lior has been a part of their school years. They respect his differences, care about him, and learn from him. Here’s an example of a school and students who really “get it.” Lior’s classmates have thought about the challenges he faces and it clarifies their own choices as they live their lives. Yes, this is what inclusion is about, providing important life lessons for everyone involved.
And this is what special education is really all about – we teach to enable each person to reach their potential, we learn from each other, and the process enables all of us to be better people. And this movie has captured it all – memories, continuation, spirituality, friendship, love, pride, and community. And this is why, through the tears and laughter, it provides an “ah ha” moment of utmost clarity.
If you haven’t yet seen the movie, find out where it’s playing at www.prayingwithlior.com and run, don’t walk, to see it!
Sunday, February 10, 2008
People of the Book, People with Learnng Disabilities: A Disconnect
This Shabbat, Professor Neil Gillman was the invited speaker at my synagogue. Several of his statements and ideas resonated with me, but I want to focus on his statement, "Jews are good with words." Yes, I thought, that sounds familiar, we are often called "the people of the book."
As a special educator, I hear those words and wonder about those individuals who have difficulties reading or listening to words. How included do they feel when we use these phrases? Do these phrases make them feel alienated, left out, different, excluded?
As a special educator, I hear those words and wonder about those individuals who have difficulties reading or listening to words. How included do they feel when we use these phrases? Do these phrases make them feel alienated, left out, different, excluded?
But then Dr. Gillman went on to say that words aren't enough. He used the story of the golden calf to suport his premise. Moses went up on Mt. Sinai to receive the Ten Commandments. The people remained at the bottom, waiting for their leader. But it took a long time for Moses to return and the people were impatient. They needed something more concrete to touch and see, and hence the golden calf was created.
How many of our students similarly are learners who need more than words? How many need to use pictures, graphs and charts to help them remember? How many learn by touching and manipulating materials? And how many are impulsive, acting before thinking things through and considering the options and consequences of their actions?
Maybe we really aren't so different from our ancesters.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Structure in Ritual and Special Education
I've been thinking about how teachers handle behavior issues because this semester I’ll be teaching “Behavior Management for the Inclusive Classroom,” at Hebrew College. While I've taught this course before, each time I start to prepare the class, it's a new beginning. I may take out previous notes and PowerPoint presentations, but then there's new research to read, information to add, and ideas to consider. This semester I am adding a focus on Jewish ritual, considering what lessons we can learn from that perspective regarding improving behaviors in the classroom.
Behaviors play an important role in leading a Jewish life and in being a special educator. Looking at life through each of these lenses, we can learn from our Jewish heritage about the importance of structure and routines.
Structure provides security and safety. It is commonly accepted that structure offers a person a set of boundaries within which it is possible to function; without prescribed boundaries a person may be at a loss to know what behaviors are expected and accepted. Judaism provides many opportunities for structure. Judaism provides many ways for structuring our environment. Our Jewish laws and practice suggest (at times fairly strongly) what should and should not be done; often laws outline consequences for non-compliance. These laws and practices provide a structure for how and when to pray, eat, and treat others. While we see differences in practice based on denomination, the basic structure for living a Jewish life remains similar across denominations. Special educators can draw on this perspective in emphasizing the role of structure in providing a safe and secure classroom environment where students can learn.
Judaism also offers routines for people to implement. Preparations for Shabbat and holidays involve cleaning, cooking, lighting candles, washing hands, offering blessings and singing. These routines are examples of specific behaviors that get repeated week after week, year after year. The consistency and repetition of these actions help reinforce the behaviors and support their implementation. There is a midrash (story) that when the angels appear at a Jewish home just prior to Shabbat and see a home clean and ready for Shabbat, the angels say, “it should be just the same next week.” And when they see the next home but it is in disarray, they repeat the same comment. This story holds an important lesson for special educators about how behaviors easily become repeated and habitualized.
Behaviors play an important role in leading a Jewish life and in being a special educator. Looking at life through each of these lenses, we can learn from our Jewish heritage about the importance of structure and routines.
Structure provides security and safety. It is commonly accepted that structure offers a person a set of boundaries within which it is possible to function; without prescribed boundaries a person may be at a loss to know what behaviors are expected and accepted. Judaism provides many opportunities for structure. Judaism provides many ways for structuring our environment. Our Jewish laws and practice suggest (at times fairly strongly) what should and should not be done; often laws outline consequences for non-compliance. These laws and practices provide a structure for how and when to pray, eat, and treat others. While we see differences in practice based on denomination, the basic structure for living a Jewish life remains similar across denominations. Special educators can draw on this perspective in emphasizing the role of structure in providing a safe and secure classroom environment where students can learn.
Judaism also offers routines for people to implement. Preparations for Shabbat and holidays involve cleaning, cooking, lighting candles, washing hands, offering blessings and singing. These routines are examples of specific behaviors that get repeated week after week, year after year. The consistency and repetition of these actions help reinforce the behaviors and support their implementation. There is a midrash (story) that when the angels appear at a Jewish home just prior to Shabbat and see a home clean and ready for Shabbat, the angels say, “it should be just the same next week.” And when they see the next home but it is in disarray, they repeat the same comment. This story holds an important lesson for special educators about how behaviors easily become repeated and habitualized.
Monday, December 31, 2007
A New Year - A New Perspective
As we approach 2008 and its accompanying new resolutions, we can apply some of our basic special education philosophical beliefs in our efforts to make this new year a better one.
The classic slogan at the beginning of the normalization movement was "Label jars, not people." Unfortunately, this adage is needed even in 2008, perhaps even more needed than ever before. Post 9.11 we have become more likely to group and label people. Now, probably more than ever, we need to see people as individuals. Aren't you sometimes struck by the idea that there are people who on paper seem to be just like you yet you can't connect, while others who seem to be quite different are those who you befriend? In reality, labeling people by religion, profession, socio-economic level, disability, or age/grade tells very little about the individual standing in front of you.
So how do you see this individual? In special education, we focus on a child's strengths and then work from there. When someone has a disability, they are often defined by what they cannot do. In our work as special educators we start with what the person can do and try to build skills from that entry point. In life, however, we often start from a person's deficits - we see their flaws, neuroses and move from there. How much better to focus on the positive, on strengths and abilities? While some people wear their shortcomings on their sleeves, most remain hidden and we get to know their foibles only as we our relationship deepens. Then we abuse that trusting relationship by focusing on their weaknesses. This person is so negative; this one so complaining; this one so sharp. Eventually we lose sight of their strengths - perhaps their openess or their insightfulness - and begin to see only the negatives. Focusing on a person's strengths encourages us to see the positives and appreciate that part of them. If we can do that when we work with children who have disabilities, why not in our personal lives?
It's not just the professional thing to do, it's the way to bring out the best in us and others in our lives.
The classic slogan at the beginning of the normalization movement was "Label jars, not people." Unfortunately, this adage is needed even in 2008, perhaps even more needed than ever before. Post 9.11 we have become more likely to group and label people. Now, probably more than ever, we need to see people as individuals. Aren't you sometimes struck by the idea that there are people who on paper seem to be just like you yet you can't connect, while others who seem to be quite different are those who you befriend? In reality, labeling people by religion, profession, socio-economic level, disability, or age/grade tells very little about the individual standing in front of you.
So how do you see this individual? In special education, we focus on a child's strengths and then work from there. When someone has a disability, they are often defined by what they cannot do. In our work as special educators we start with what the person can do and try to build skills from that entry point. In life, however, we often start from a person's deficits - we see their flaws, neuroses and move from there. How much better to focus on the positive, on strengths and abilities? While some people wear their shortcomings on their sleeves, most remain hidden and we get to know their foibles only as we our relationship deepens. Then we abuse that trusting relationship by focusing on their weaknesses. This person is so negative; this one so complaining; this one so sharp. Eventually we lose sight of their strengths - perhaps their openess or their insightfulness - and begin to see only the negatives. Focusing on a person's strengths encourages us to see the positives and appreciate that part of them. If we can do that when we work with children who have disabilities, why not in our personal lives?
It's not just the professional thing to do, it's the way to bring out the best in us and others in our lives.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Behaviors in the Not So Christmas Spirit
Once, at the end of fall semester, as I was observing a student teacher in a local public school, the classroom teacher approached me, suggesting that if Bob (not his real name) acted out during the student teacher's lesson, I should let her know and she'd pull him out of class. The teacher explained that Bob had been acting out regularly and she didn't want his disruptive behavior to affect my student teacher. Even she, an experienced teacher of many years, was having difficulty getting him to calm down and focus.
What I knew walking into the room was that the school was in high gear for Christmas, with decorations, plays, concerts and parties. I also knew that Bob was a Jehovah Witness who did not celebrate birthdays. I surmised that his acting out behavior, which had escalated over the weeks in December, was related to the Christmas celebrations taking place.
About one minute into my student's lesson, Bob started poking the boy next to him. The boy tried to move out of Bob's striking distance, only to be poked again. While I usually sit back and observe quietly, this time I decided to intervene.
I tapped Bob on his shoulder and asked to talk to him. I told him that I noticed he was poking another student and that I wondered if he was upset by all the activities related to Christmas. He looked at me blankly. I asked if he celebrated Christmas and he said he did. I explained that I was Jewish and didn't celebrate Christmas. With a bit of bravado he reiterated that he celebrated this holiday and asked why I didn't. I explained that I was Jewish and didn't believe in Christ ,so I didn't celebrate his birthday. He sat quietly for a few seconds and then began a series of questions:
Did I celebrate Valentine's day? No, I didn't.
Did I celebrate St. Patrick's day? No, I didn't.
Did I celebrate Easter? No, I didn't.
Did I celebrate birthdays? Yes, I did.
He compared each of my answers to his own practices. Then he came back to the essential question, asking once again if I celebrated Christmas. And once again, I responded in the negative. He looked at me with big eyes andrsaid, "You've going to be in a lot of trouble!" and quietly and calmly rejoined the lesson.
He left me rather stunned as I thought, "You have no idea!" Sometimes behaviors just need to be investigated - you never know what will be revealed.
What I knew walking into the room was that the school was in high gear for Christmas, with decorations, plays, concerts and parties. I also knew that Bob was a Jehovah Witness who did not celebrate birthdays. I surmised that his acting out behavior, which had escalated over the weeks in December, was related to the Christmas celebrations taking place.
About one minute into my student's lesson, Bob started poking the boy next to him. The boy tried to move out of Bob's striking distance, only to be poked again. While I usually sit back and observe quietly, this time I decided to intervene.
I tapped Bob on his shoulder and asked to talk to him. I told him that I noticed he was poking another student and that I wondered if he was upset by all the activities related to Christmas. He looked at me blankly. I asked if he celebrated Christmas and he said he did. I explained that I was Jewish and didn't celebrate Christmas. With a bit of bravado he reiterated that he celebrated this holiday and asked why I didn't. I explained that I was Jewish and didn't believe in Christ ,so I didn't celebrate his birthday. He sat quietly for a few seconds and then began a series of questions:
Did I celebrate Valentine's day? No, I didn't.
Did I celebrate St. Patrick's day? No, I didn't.
Did I celebrate Easter? No, I didn't.
Did I celebrate birthdays? Yes, I did.
He compared each of my answers to his own practices. Then he came back to the essential question, asking once again if I celebrated Christmas. And once again, I responded in the negative. He looked at me with big eyes andrsaid, "You've going to be in a lot of trouble!" and quietly and calmly rejoined the lesson.
He left me rather stunned as I thought, "You have no idea!" Sometimes behaviors just need to be investigated - you never know what will be revealed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
