Schools for blind or visually disabled children have existed in the United States for more than 169 years. Some ask, Why have they survived this long? Has not inclusion made these placement options obsolete? If federal and state laws mandate education in the least restrictive environment, why do local school districts still send children to segregated settings? Are the high per capita costs justifiable? Should not the resources for these schools be redirected to local education agencies to improve services in students' home communities?
These are fair and not uncommon questions asked by the general public, legislators, and even many educators. For answers, we must listen carefully to current students, former students, local school leaders, and parents whose children attend or have attended these schools. Schools for blind children may seem an outdated service delivery model, but as Jim Durst, principal of the Indiana School for the Blind, recognizes, the educational outcomes of students prove that these placement options are justifiable, legitimate, and critically essential "for some children all of the time and for all children some of the time."
Obsolete and Unnecessary?
The inclusion movement has not eliminated the need for specialized schools for blind children. In fact, to a large extent it has increased the need for specialized services to enable children with visual disabilities to succeed in regular classrooms.
For students with visual disabilities to be meaningfully and successfully included in regular programs and to keep up with their classmates, they must have educational support services, reading and writing skills, and materials in accessible formats. To expect a child without skills to be successful in a regular education setting without supports would be as ill-advised as immersing a nonswimmer in the deep end of a pool with a sink-or-swim expectation. Although students might survive the experience, they certainly wouldn't enjoy it or thrive to their full potential.
Today, local directors of special education schools refer blind children to schools for the blind to help them thrive rather than just survive—so that they can better integrate themselves into their local schools. Often, these referrals are for short-term placements in the school's on-campus program, summer school enrichment or compensatory skill training, or consultative outreach services that support children remaining in their local districts.
In 1900, the blindness field was the first disability group to integrate or mainstream students in public schools. Even before the advent of the Education for All Handicapped Children Act, approximately 93 percent of students with visual disabilities were already placed in their local school districts, with 7 percent in specialized schools. Although this ratio has remained the same, many specialized schools report increasing referrals for outreach services and summer and regular on-campus enrollment. The U.S. trend shows not a diminishing need but rather a legitimate placement option in response to the steadily increasing demands from local districts. Schools for the blind are not a substitute for public school programs but are an important complementary option.
Least Restrictive Environment
Educators in local schools are committed to fulfilling the spirit and letter of the federal and state legislation that mandates that all children with disabilities be educated with their nondisabled peers to the maximum extent possible. However, some school districts find its implementation impossible owing to circumstances over which they have no control.
For example, Mr. Adams, a rural area director of special education, has been unable for the past five years to recruit qualified staff to meet the needs of visually disabled students in his district because of a national specialized-teacher shortage. Only 33 U.S. universities offer pre-service training programs for teachers of the visually disabled. Unfortunately, these 33 programs graduate fewer than 200 students each year. The demand throughout the United States far outweighs the supply of graduates from each program. This is compounded by the very high yearly attrition rate of specialists. Mr. Adams, therefore, must refer many of his district's visually disabled students to the school for blind children.
In another scenario, Mr. Sands, a director of special education in a large Indiana community, is fortunate to have recruited and retained qualified teachers for visually disabled students. Even though his district has qualified staff, he makes occasional referrals for placements to the school for blind children. He refers students who have difficulty achieving academically in the regular classroom and who need more intensive and individualized instruction than what is locally available. In these cases, the individualized education program team has determined that a school for blind children is the least restrictive environment—or the most productive setting. Many students benefit from immersion in a learning environment where all the staff in every class and dormitory can instruct and reinforce critical blindness-specific skills, such as Braille reading and writing, orientation and mobility (independent travel), and daily-living skills.
Rebecca, a high school sophomore from Mr. Sands's district, attended her first five grades at a school for the blind, returning to her neighborhood school for junior high. Her family, Mr. Sands, and his staff determined that Rebecca would benefit from returning to the school for the blind for at least the first two years of high school. Rebecca, who also attends a nearby local high school part-time, has taken advantage of the school's revolving door policy, in which students can come and go depending on their changing needs. Rebecca's parents and the staff from both schools agree that placement cannot be a one-size-fits-all solution: The question is not which option is best—they both are.
In another situation, Ms. Dare, a director of special education in the state's largest city, utilizes a school for the blind on a daily basis for students in her district who are having difficulty in large school settings. Often, these students can attend both schools, taking academic courses at the school for the blind, for example, and vocational courses at the local high school. These children can go home every evening, but frequently they stay overnight in the dormitory to take advantage of recreational programs, such as swimming, dances, Boy Scouts or Girl Scouts, or Special Olympics; on- or off-campus jobs; extracurricular competitive sports, such as track and field, swimming, or wrestling; or band, choral, speech, or debate activities.
Real-World Connections
Shawn, who was born blind, has a twin sister who is fully sighted. Although he attended a school for the blind for his entire school career, he was able to have the best of both worlds by attending a nearby local high school part-time. Now an alumnus of the school, Shawn told me, I knew when I was in high school that I was getting a good education because I could compare it to what my twin sister was getting from our public school. But until I got to college, I really didn't recognize how very well prepared I was.
Shawn described how the pre-med students in his fraternity house frequently sought his assistance with English themes, research papers, and math assignments. He knew that his abilities to match subjects with verbs, to organize his thoughts on paper, and to calculate numbers were superior in many cases to his fraternity brothers' abilities. He also felt more mature than his fraternity brothers because of his early dormitory experience dealing with, and adapting to, others.
Shawn's dormitory experience also helped him work independently. When he went home on weekends, he taught his parents, who tended to be over-protective, how he could do things for himself and why they needed to let him. His parents struggled with his living away from home, particularly in the early grades. However, when they saw his progress—his strong "can do" attitude, his confidence, his happiness, and his many friends—they realized that this sacrifice was necessary for his current and future independence and success.
Shawn just earned his college degree and is currently employed as a social worker. He lives in an apartment and does his own cooking, shopping, and other household chores. He travels in the community independently, using skills he learned in orientation and mobility, a related service that was not available in his home school.
Not all students are exactly like Shawn. Blind and developmentally delayed, Megan just graduated from a school for the blind. Unlike Shawn, she will not go to college or live independently in an apartment. But with the assistance of a job coach, she is employed, and she lives in a supervised group home. Megan, too, was not sheltered from "real world" realities or segregated from the community.
Shawn's and Megan's career experiences began in their early grades, and later both had on- and off-campus jobs. Shawn attended the local high school for academic enrichment and social experiences; Megan went off campus to gain experience working in a community adult workshop. Both Shawn and Megan moved from their dormitories into three-bedroom houses while in high school, and both were expected to shop for groceries, prepare food, clean the house, and meet other responsibilities. Shawn lived in one of the school's independent living houses without a live-in supervisor; Megan lived in a semi-independent living program with ongoing staff supervision. Shawn earned a pass to travel off campus independently to any location; Megan went many places in the community with adult supervision. Megan was required to open and maintain a checking account at a local bank where she deposited her check each week and conducted financial transactions.
Both Shawn and Megan also distinguished themselves in extracurricular activities. Shawn was a wrestler, competing with other blind athletes on the national level and with public school opponents in state competitions. He also developed powerful speaking skills, which led to participation in state and national oratory contests, and had challenging roles in school plays. His parents, proud of his extensive involvement, often asked Shawn if he ever had time to sleep! Megan was widely recognized for her singing. Twice she sang the national anthem at the state Special Olympics competition, and she sang in the school's chorus that traveled around the state and country.
The Cost of Value
These are impressive achievements. A state government official, after attending graduation at a school for the blind, commented on how well prepared the graduates appeared and how much progress they had made at the school. A school administrator replied, "Yes, but you are well aware of the criticism our school receives for the high per pupil cost and perceived 'expensiveness.' " The state official responded, How can they place a value on what these children were provided, what they have clearly gained, and what we know they are going to accomplish because of our investment in them? Look at the value rather than the cost.
In a similar conversation, Mrs. Botkin, whose teenage son is visually disabled and autistic, said, They can either pay now to make my son independent or he will pay in the future if he does not get the services he needs. We must decide whether we are going to socialize our children in less expensive programs that do not have all the essential services or we are going to instruct them and make sure they get skills. My son's success is only possible in a program that costs more.
The per capita cost statistics are often misleading. If all the services provided at a school for the blind could be replicated in the local district, the cost per capita would be the same in both settings. However, because blindness is a low-incidence condition and each district does not have large numbers of visually disabled students, the local services would likely be less economical than those in a centralized setting where the ratio of staff to students is higher and therefore the cost is less per pupil.
A colleague employed in a large Illinois public school reported that the per capita costs of students in her district were comparable to the instructional costs at a school for blind children. She indicated that because her district provided comprehensive and intensive full services, costs were higher than those in a local district that provided only the bare essentials, such as an itinerant teacher working with a student only one or two times a month. She defined full services as highly adapted technology; a full complement of specialized itinerant and resource teachers; and such related services as orientation and mobility, physical and occupational therapy, and special transportation. In her district, transportation costs were high because of the need to bus children extensively throughout the large metropolitan area.
Another factor is that the specialized school's costs include not only the educational expenses but also the provisions for food, housing, supervision, utilities, and other expenses over a 24-hour day. These costs are not included in public school expenditure figures. When comparing costs in both settings, we must match services for services. To say that one option with fewer services is less expensive is unfair. The more expensive options provide more services.
But shouldn't the resources be redirected to local education agencies to improve services in students' home communities? This appears to be a logical strategy given the least restrictive language in the law. However, because qualified specialists are typically not available, local districts are not likely to fill all the positions needed and would have to regionalize programs to consolidate services. Therefore, students would still be unable to attend their neighborhood schools, and some students would end up without any services. Specialized services would lose their effectiveness if they were scattered throughout the state. The state would also lose a major resource center and would no longer be able to provide outreach services.
Least Restrictive or Most Productive?
Are schools for the visually disabled dinosaurs on the verge of extinction or credible placements of distinction? Consider the impact that blindness has on learning for such students as Megan and Shawn, the role that specialized schools play in overcoming their potentially devastating disabilities, and the ever-increasing demands for these services from local districts.
All these examples illustrate the value and necessity of providing a continuum of service options when students need alternatives to their local school programs. Schools for visually disabled students are an integral part of this continuum of options. A district may call upon the specialized school when it is unable to recruit specialized staff and provide services locally. Whenever a particular student is not achieving to his or her potential, school leaders can turn to this "more restrictive"—or potentially more productive—setting.
