What Is Best?
Last weekend my family entertained relatives we hadn't seen for years—my wife's 94-year-old uncle from the Midwest and his granddaughter and her family: husband, daughter, and son. The little girl, a 5th grader, is bright, talented, and doing well in school. Her older brother is autistic. He never spoke, paid no attention to our conversation, and spent most of the visit quietly toying with his shoelaces.
As I talked with his parents, I found they had strong convictions about education. The father stated emphatically that students should never be allowed to use calculators until they have mastered the fundamentals of arithmetic. He was so adamant that, even though I didn't want to be argumentative, I ventured that experts had researched the matter thoroughly and most had concluded otherwise. He remained unconvinced, citing examples of young people who couldn't make change without the assistance of automatic cash registers. We changed the subject.
Later on, when the autistic son was out of the room, his mother told what a struggle it had been to raise him. “He's much better now,” she said proudly, “you can't imagine how hard it was for him to learn to use the toilet and to feed himself.” She spoke heatedly of school officials who had wanted to assign the boy to a regular classroom. Rather than accept that, the family had moved to a different community where he would continue to be taught in separate special education facilities.
I acknowledged that inclusion is what many educators now think is best for many students with disabilities. I didn't argue in favor of it because I'm sure she has heard all the arguments and rejected them. Besides, she knows a lot more about her son's needs than I do.
Thinking back on our visit, I am struck by the contrast between the views of these sensible, caring people and those of many equally caring educators. During the discussion about calculators, I had contended that, with the right kind of teaching, students can actually learn computation better with calculators than without them. I am quite certain of that, but not because I have any personal experience teaching with calculators. I believe it because I accept the word of those who have, and of researchers who have gathered objective evidence on the issue. But I recognize that, without good teaching, some students might always have to depend on calculators for the simplest calculations.
I feel the same about inclusion: I endorse the testimony of numerous pioneering educators and satisfied parents that it works—under the right conditions. But I also concede that conditions are often far from right in many schools. Looking at the arguments for and against inclusion that Jim Kauffman and Mara Sapon-Shevin present in this month's conversation (p. 7), I think of Tevya in the musical Fiddler on the Roof saying, “He's right—but she's also right.”
Educators who feel as I do are being pulled in one direction by their values and aspirations and in the opposite direction by pressing realities. They want to do the right thing, but they are not sure what that is. The guiding principle, of course, is to do what is best for each student. But what is best?
At times like this we need to listen to one another, to be willing to try new arrangements, and not to be overly doctrinaire. Elaine Wilmore (p. 60), an educator and also the parent of a handicapped child, writes, “Think about the child's tomorrows. Think about what we do now that will affect those tomorrows. We can't afford to make mistakes.”
Unfortunately, as parents and educators seek the right provisions for individual children, they sometimes will make mistakes. But if they are patient with one another, and all those involved truly want what is best for the child, there will be fewer mistakes—and they will lead to more beneficial solutions.
