I’ll set the stage.
It is the intermission to our school’s spring musical, and there is an opening scene with the whole cast that is about to begin. The music starts, the lights go on, and everything goes according to plan. Except that there is an extra cast member, dressed in plain clothes, singing, and dancing along with his peers. For a moment, we think this was on purpose. The boy, who spends most of his day in a self-contained classroom, was standing with the front row performers as he attempted to copy them in their every move.
What was so exciting was that I heard no snickering or laughter and no angry parents saying he ruined the show. In fact, some people came up to me and said how cool it was that no one was doing anything except letting him be who he was for a moment. I happen to agree with that sentiment. The “how” he got up there in the first place is not as important as the “why” he was there. He wanted to participate; he wanted attention. He wanted to belong.
Needless to say, he was not supposed to be there, and as quick as his moment of glory came, it went during the scene change.
After the show, I spoke with another teacher. She told me that a student had come up to her to describe what happened, and they remarked (and I am paraphrasing), “Ms. (so-and-so), it was straight up inclusion.”
I believe the student is correct to a certain degree. We can experience what inclusion feels like and looks like in these moments. Still, for this particular student, inclusion was fleeting. It would have been better if he was included from the beginning. He could have been a valued part of the cast even if it was for the short time he was up on stage.
Inclusion is not about the amount of time spent with typical peers. Perhaps it is about being missed when you are not there.
There was a story about a “reverse inclusion” program and Council for Exceptional Children (CEC) elective course for juniors and seniors in high school. The course was started by a special education teacher. It’s “reverse inclusion,” Englehart [the special education teacher] said. “The common philosophy is for special education students to go into general education classes. This approach brings typical peers into my classroom setting.”
Englehart goes on to describe the outcomes of the after school club and the elective course, which would “introduce the history and interaction of individuals with disabilities.” It’s not forced interaction, it’s very natural,” she said.
“My kids aren’t sitting by themselves anymore during lunch, and they’re going over each other’s houses on the weekend. It’s more than I ever thought it would be.”
She also describes the interaction as heartwarming.
“You can’t imagine what it’s like to watch a football player who’s popular and has a girlfriend, to feed a Thanksgiving dinner to a student in a wheelchair,” Englehart said.
To be fair, this teacher is promoting friendships, which is difficult, if not impossible, when students with disabilities spend most of their time educated separately from their peers. For many, “reverse inclusion” is an opportunity to increase peer social interaction opportunities while setting up the environment to meet the needs of the students with disabilities best.
I would prefer the typical students to be referred to as “peer-models” as opposed to “positive role models.” That may be splitting hairs too much, though. It is hard to know the nuances of a program when someone else is interpreting it through different eyes. Even in this less ideal situation of “reverse inclusion,” there are still benefits to be had from friendships, enhanced self-respect, increased awareness and responsiveness, and improved communication skills (Schoger, K.D. 2006).
In my practice, I have taken a different approach. For most teachers, the method of “reverse inclusion” is only for social interaction. Still, I prefer it to be an opportunity to develop lesson plans and curriculum based on Universal Design for Learning (UDL).
I have been fortunate to work with teachers who accompany their class to my self-contained classroom, where we co-teach lessons on various standards. The process is not perfect, but as we learned in our teacher training, collaboration is critical. So if reverse inclusion is not ideal, what is the best situation for inclusion? In my opinion, it is authentic inclusion, or to put in another way, intentional.
Let me make myself as clear as I can be.
My intention is not to make people “feel bad” that they do not line up with my philosophy. I intend to change how we think about inclusion and see it is a possible future and one that we can have a hand in creating right now.
Inclusion has more to do with our frame of mind than any specific program that we create. My point is that whether it is 15 minutes, 3 hours, or all day every day-inclusion should be intentional. It should be on purpose.
I read this the other day from a chapter written by Marsha Forest and Jack Pearpoint, and I think it hits the nail on the head:
Our critics say, “But it SHOULD be natural. It SHOULD be spontaneous.” Who made that rule, we wonder? When people say, “It should happen naturally,” we start to worry. We do not believe anything in life just happens naturally. Nor do we believe we can make everything we want to happen. Life just does not work that way. We do believe that we can set the stage, create conditions for good relationships, good health, and optimal learning. Then we can hope and continually work for the best possible outcome (Nesbit, 1992, pg. 70-71).
So after all my soap-boxing, persuading, and exhorting, we all just do the very best we can. Inclusion is the new inclusion. Let’s start by changing our mindset.
“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
Schoger, K.D., (2006). Reverse inclusion: Providing peer social interaction opportunities to students placed in self-contained special education classrooms. TEACHING Exceptional Children Plus, 2(6) Article 3. Retrieved [3.21.13] from http://journals.cec.sped.org/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1227&context=tecplus