Segregation and Self-Perception, Part 1

There are many arguments why self-contained classrooms for students with special education needs are valuable and qualify as the least-restrictive environment (LRE) for educational placement.

• It is more cost-effective to deliver services to a population of students with similar specialized learning needs in a single class.
• Some general educators are not certified to teach special education, so students with IEPs cannot be served well in general ed classrooms.
• Students with special education needs can be more closely monitored for behavior and academic progress in a separate classroom.
• Some students with special education needs are incapable of functioning in a mainstreamed classroom.

There are more reasons why inclusive education is valuable, which drove the discussion of LRE in the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA).  One of the reasons -- self-perception -- reaches the core of my being.  As a high school student, my brother and I attended the same public school.  The achievement-oriented culture of the school was focused on two things: college and sports.  If you were the student who was college-bound with good grades and/or played well on one (or more) of the school's sports teams, you were looked upon favorably.  If not, you clearly did not enjoy the same staff-offered perqs (such as benefit of the doubt, homework forgiveness, basic respect, etc.).

I was a nerd.  I answered the teachers' questions in class, went to the summer camps devoted to intellectual or career pursuits, and was the school board student representative.  My not-much-younger brother was seemingly the opposite.  He wore provocatively-messaged t-shirts, used the breaks in the day to head outside to smoke a cigarette (which you could do legally back in those days), and ended up in a high-risk program to at least get him to graduate with a GED.

There was one teacher in particular who seemed to thrive on berating my brother.  He would stand at the end of the hallway and hurl insults with a half-cocked grin of satisfaction on his face directed at the college-bound and athletically-gifted students who passed him.  He was encouraging them to join in the ridicule not only by his initiation, but by his body language's approval.  This was a core curriculum teacher whom I otherwise considered rather effective in the classroom.  I knew it was wrong then, but lacked the practical wisdom (and frankly, authority) to counteract the bullying behavior.

While my brother's teachers made accommodations in the classroom, and special educators assisted as needed, he was particularly uncomfortable about his placement in a study hall of sorts for students with special education needs.  There were students at all grade levels and with all manner of disabilities in this classroom, and the teacher went amongst them to offer assistance with and re-teaching on curricular assignments.  My brother said he used the time to sleep, because he figured that's all his teachers expected of him anyway.

He had begun to believe the propaganda a few insensitive teachers were publishing about himself -- he would never amount to anything; he wasn't smart enough to do the classwork; he'd be lucky to get a diploma at all.  What a sad way to glimpse your future when you're only 16.

I asked my brother if he ever thought about what might have happened had his teachers established higher expectations and held him accountable for class work.  He said he didn't think about it from that perspective much; but he still has nightmares about the administration calling him back to tell him he didn't really finish high school.

I know it's controversial to call placement in a self-contained classroom segregation of students with special education needs, but if the argument is anything but "the nature or severity of the disability of a child is such that education in regular classes with the use of supplementary aids and services cannot be achieved satisfactorily", then the child is being set apart from his or her typically-developing peers in a manner out of compliance with IDEA.  And that state of being set apart sends a message, albeit unintentionally, that students with special education needs don't belong with their typically-developing peers.

Watch for Part 2 next week, when we'll discuss this idea in connection with Jane Elliott's blue eyes/brown eyes classroom exercise.

THINK: 50 Cent and Autism

If the R-word campaign and Judy Endow's The Power of Words have taught us anything, it's that words matter.  What comes out of our mouths and/or off of our typing fingertips has the power to hurt or heal, to build up or burn down.  While Good Friend has spent the last five years educating some 17,000 students and adults about the importance of speaking positively about autism and those who experience life through its lens, there are those who continue to remain ignorant about this neurobiological developmental disorder and make insensitive comments.

Such comments sting in a far more reactive way when they're inflicted by celebrities.  For better or for worse, our society is acutely aware of media moguls in various industries, including music, film, and sports.  Rapper 50 Cent, no stranger to the spotlight, got particularly ugly with a threatening Twitter follower last week. According to a Huffington Post article, his response was "yeah just saw your picture fool you look autistic." And, heaping burning coals on his own head, tweeted, "I dont want no special ed kids on my time line follow some body else".

This brought to mind a favorite mantra.

Many 50 Cent fans insisted he was only trying to be funny.  It was the furthest thing from comical or entertaining.  If great power (or influence) comes with great responsibility, then we have to THINK before we speak.  If it isn't True, Helpful, Inspiring, Necessary, and/or Kind, then we should, as I often tell my son when he gets into his self-regulatory scripted talk at inappropriate times, keep it in our heads.

While 50 Cent took his nasty tweets down at the emphatic request of autism activist and mother Holly Robinson Peete, it took the public outcry of the autism and special needs community, plus those who support common decency, to get him to offer an apology.  Thousands of pictures with hashtag #thisiswhatautismlookslike flooded Twitterverse, apparently prompting his Sunday morning olive branch extension.

Let's hope we all THINK before we speak.  Because, for those of us who have reliable spoken language, just because we can speak, doesn't mean we should.

"Be prepared!"

(adapted from our Aug. 2010 newsletter)
We are indeed borrowing that famous motto of the Boy Scouts of America. Whereas they’re reminding their boys to be prepared for whatever wilderness adventure or lifesaving opportunity they might encounter, we are encouraging schools and families to be prepared for whatever classroom situation they might encounter.

When considering the research of Dr. Connie Kasari (UCLA, 2009), we realize that preparation is a critical intervention for students’ success. Kasari’s study of students with autism spectrum disorder (ASD) in inclusive classrooms led her to conclude that preparing the environment (the staff, the students, and the physical readiness of the space) to receive a student with ASD is perhaps more important than social skills training and a one-to-one aide for the impacted student. (See The Orange County Register article, “Peers are key for autistic kids, researcher says”.) This requires a more coordinated effort on behalf of the school and family, but has ultimately proven to result in better outcomes.

Many schools now are moving into a positive behavioral intervention and support (PBIS) approach to improve their campus climate.  Social emotional learning is gaining momentum as a paradigmatic shift in education.  As administrators invest in the relational atmosphere of their schools, they see decreased referrals, improved academic performance, and better unity among students.

This applies to Good Friend’s services as well.  Administrators of public schools in excess of 88 students can be statistically assured that there will be at minimum one child with ASD enrolled. That being the case, it is likely that the least restrictive environment for that student will be an inclusive classroom. And the way to prepare that environment is through education.

Good Friend offers staff in-services, which last from 60 to 90 minutes, at a fee of only $100* (*additional expenses are associated with travel beyond 75 miles of Waukesha, Wis.).  And for schools in southeast Wisconsin that book their staff training by October 30th and wish to participate in an independent University of Wisconsin-Whitewater research study, there is NO FEE.  The in-service is applicable for all staff, from speech therapists to physical education teachers.  The best part is the service is performed right at the school — no need for travel expenses or substitute teachers. The material covered ranges from the medical diagnostic criteria to some best practices in education.

Student services include general assemblies (K-9th grade, but best with no more than three consecutive grade levels per service), Peer Sensitivity Workshops (K-5th grade), and Individualized Classroom Presentations (6th-9th grade). Schools that are using systemic PBIS or similar pro-active interventions will find that the Awareness-Acceptance-Empathy® model is a natural programming extension and reinforces those principles. General assemblies are suitable for schools with a number of students on the autism spectrum or when information does not need to be student-specific. However, the PSW is a better format for presenting personal explanations of particular behaviors to a targeted age group.

If you need some guidance to determine what mix of services would best match your school’s needs, feel free to contact us. We want your school community to be prepared.

Ce-le-brate Good Friend, C'MON!

OK, so it's not quite Kool & the Gang.  But we do have a lot to celebrate!  August 10th marks Good Friend's FIFTH incorporation anniversary, which is a big deal in the life of a nonprofit organization.  It means we're here to stay.  It means that, though the economy has been shaky these past few years, our mission is valuable enough that people are investing in it.  It means, in the eyes of some larger foundations, that we are worthy of support.

THANK YOU for what you've done to enable us to present the Awareness-Acceptance-Empathy® message to nearly 17,000 people since December, 2007!

Our fiscal year ends June 30th.  This last week is the perfect time to get your donation counted!  We have two HUGE projects coming up this fall (one being University of Wisconsin-Whitewater's independent study of our elementary school staff and student services, and another that's so big, we can't even tell you about it yet!) which will require a lot of resources.  And since school's out in the summer, we're generally not generating as much income.  So while we're already up more than 12% this year over last in revenue, we've fallen rather short of fully-funding our operations.  Any amount you can contribute, whether by mailing your check (to Good Friend, Inc., 808 Cavalier Dr., Waukesha, WI 53186) or donating through our website, is greatly appreciated and goes a long way!

And did you hear that Choosing To Be a GFF was named by the American Library Association a 2012 ALSC Notable Children's Video?  Another reason to celebrate!  We hope you'll join us at 6:30 p.m. on August 3rd in Steinhafels' Community Room (Waukesha, Wis.) to celebrate these successes and the people who helped make them happen.  The registration page will be on our website next month.  Stay tuned for details!

Vertigo Builds Empathy

Who knew?  Who knew that what started out as an awful world-spinning, head-dizzying week could end with me having a better understanding of what some people with autism must experience?  On Tuesday, our family had scheduled a fun-filled day at an amusement park complete with water park.  We were excited!  We had worked it out so my son's therapist could join us, in case our two children with autism spectrum disorders required us to divide and conquer.  What we didn't really plan on was Mom ending up with vertigo before we even walked through the gates.

Yes, what seemed like an adventurous string of three thrill-seeking roller coaster rides turned into a nauseating nightmare.  I guess I should have known by the near stumble up the ramp to the second coaster that my inner ear was far less amused than my brain, but I chose to ignore the dire warning and pressed on.  And on.  Until fail.  Literally.

So the 80-minute ride home was a malignant medley of starting and stopping and snack smells and horn blows, endurable only with my eyes closed and focused deeply on my breathing.

photo by Vincent Laforet

A couple days later, when my thoughts could focus on other than the symptoms and side effects of vertigo, I recalled what Judy Endow had presented on at the 2011 Autism Society of Wisconsin Conference.  She talked about her experience traveling to New York City.  She showed PowerPoint slides with tall buildings contorting and swaying, noting this animation was similar to the experience she had.  She needed help to get onto and off of public transportation.  And by the time she got to her hotel room, she was exhausted.

So many of us take our senses of balance and proprioception ("the sense of the orientation of one's limbs in space") for granted.  We know when we're upright and when we're seated.  We understand, without having to think too hard, that our feet are connected to our legs, which are firmly attached at our hips.  And yet, a touch of vertigo can flip all those senses.

And what of our children, students, or friends with autism?  These connections to the exquisitely sensitive inner ear in individuals with different brain wiring could certainly mean that feedback regarding parts of their bodies and steadiness is unreliable.  And if that feedback were a sense of disconnection, dizziness, and/or nausea, isn't it reasonable to think that associated "behavior" could be holding onto walls, lack of awareness of personal space, or avoidance of certain motion-related activities?

When I think of all the things people with autism must feel without being able to successfully communicate those sensations to us neuro-typicals, I am urged to do better to understand and make accommodations for their differences.  I encourage you to do the same.

Self-Advocacy: The Right Stuff

One of the more remarkable things about my (almost) 11-year-old daughter is how well she knows herself.  In fact, there are things she tells me about the way her brain works that astonish me, and give me keen insight into why other children with autism spectrum disorder might respond in certain ways to environmental stimuli.  For example, I opted to flat-out ask her a couple of years ago what was going on in her brain and/or body when she flaps her hands.  This behavior (sometimes called a "stim" or "self-regulating"), which we as parents first observed when she was approximately 10 months old, accompanied anything from watching bubbles being blown to water splashing in her toddlerhood, lining up plastic toys in early childhood, and drawing as an elementary school-aged student.

"I'm using my imagination," was my daughter's response to the query.  And the expression on her face was one of disappointed shock, as if to punctuate with a "Duh!".  I dove deeper into her account.  She explained that lining up her Barbies while they were all facing her allowed her to retreat into a creative process where the dolls could move and talk instead of having to be manipulated.  And there was a lively setting rich with sounds and smells and experiences.  There was no way to create all that physically; but in her mind, it was all happening.  And it was wonderful.

Her knowledge of her self is the beginning of self-advocacy.  Because knowing how her brain works well (or not), and knowing how that compares to other students, can be used to craft learning environments and teaching methods into something functional for her.  She knows that too much noise (students shuffling papers, talking amongst themselves, etc.) makes it impossible for her to process thoughts.  So when she's feeling overwhelmed, she's learning to make some assessments about her environment and ask for an alternate workspace if needed.

Not all children with ASD are as adept at communicating their unique needs (and neither was my daughter, frankly).  But it's never too early to begin to get them to recognize signs of stress in their bodies and help them and their education/care team identify alternative activities or adapted experiences to maximize success.

Using a common language is important, so the student can express him-/herself in a way everyone can understand and respond to appropriately and in a timely fashion.  If a child is unable to evoke the desired response, he/she is unlikely to continue attempting to use budding self-advocacy skills.

Good Friend's videos can help families and educational teams establish a common language.  Using the vocabulary and principles in the elementary and secondary version of our films can be a starting point for self-awareness.

The better a student understands him-/herself, the less dependent he/she will be on the care team to recognize signs of distress and the more likely a successful outcome will result from an inclusive atmosphere.  This will be especially important at the beginning of the school year, when the new educational team will not know the student very well and will be responsible for getting to know a classroom full of learners.

photo by Royce Bair

Students with "the right stuff" (as it pertains to self-awareness and advocacy) will have a better sense of control when the unpredictability of September crashes on them like a breaking wave.  Their feet will be properly positioned to withstand the rushing waters.  Here's to a summer of preparing those balancing skills!

The Things We Do for Love

I think it's safe to say that teachers love kids. Why else would you spend six hours a day, five days a week, in a room with 25 students? Now I love my kids, but I can guarantee you that if I spent every waking moment with them for the summer, I would go bonkers. In fact, the final weeks of the school year are always a scramble to be sure we have the right mix of down time and scheduled, supported activities to keep everyone happy and healthy (and lovely).


I also love my job, part of which is to go in to schools to teach students about autism. And I often say I can do it for an hour, but it might be a different story if it were 8 to 3.

photo by Curtis Compton, Atlanta Journal-Constitution (2010)

Yet there are these educators who not only punch in and punch out, but think critically about how to make learning more fun and functional for their students.  And not only between those hours of 8 to 3, but specifically before- and after-hours; because often while the students are there at school, they're commanding full attention.


Recently, my 13-year-old son was struggling with team activities in Physical Education (Gym).  His Specially-Designed Phy Ed teacher contacted me, starting off the phone call with, "I've been thinking all night about how we can design a program for him that will be meaningful."  It's the stuff of dreams, really -- both the inspired ideas and the collaborative effort that combine for the magic of effective inclusive instruction.


During an Autism Spectrum Disorder/Developmental Disability Community of Practice meeting last month, one of the round table sessions was on "Hot Topics" for the population in discussion.  It was moderated by a staff member for the statewide Autism Society chapter and a speech therapist for an area school district.  One of the parent-initiated discussions was regarding socialization and meaningful inclusion in elementary school.  


The speech therapist was eager to share her idea of a "Birthday Manager".  This job was created for students with special education needs who benefit from positive social interaction, practice in decision making, and fine and gross motor skill development.  The Birthday Manager has a list of the week's student birthdays.  He or she selects a pre-made card, chooses a piece of clip art to add, and addresses and delivers the card.  The birthday student is happy, the Birthday Manager is proud, and everyone sees how valuable an exchange the exercise is.  Brilliant!  The speech therapist shared a number of ways such an activity fits into existing IEP goals.


Ah, the things we do for love -- for love of students, for love of education, for love of success.  Thank you, educators and therapists, for the love you've shown this past school year.  We look forward to your renewed energy and ideas again in August/September!