As an opinionated teenager, I would often hear stories about other people’s actions to which I would reply, “I will never do that.” My Grandmother would reprimand me and say, “Don’t say you would never do something. You don’t know what you will have to do.” But, I am stubborn. After Caden was born and our school years grew nearer, I started telling myself and others, “I will never allow Caden to go into the FMD classroom.” There it is again—“Never.”
At what point in my life did I decide FMD was a dirty word? At what point did I decide it was a place that I didn’t want my child? Keep in mind, this is about me; it’s about my personal journey. It’s about how I have grown as Caden’s mom. Every child is different!
I hear politicians and experts debate the benefits of inclusion. I have a confession about my experience with inclusion. When I was a regular education classroom teacher at the high school level, I often worked in a collaborative setting. I enjoyed the work; however, I was not trained as a special education teacher. Because of high numbers of students and low personnel (a battle parents and teachers cannot always win), the special education teacher was often pulled to work with another student in a different classroom. There I was, alone with students I was not equipped to teach. Successful inclusion or unfair? I did the best I could; however, my best was not founded or steeped in my educational background or experience. Most argued benefits are accurate. I agree inclusion is a wonderful opportunity for Caden. I am so happy to see him in a regular education classroom where he makes friends, educates others on Down syndrome, and shows his abilities. However, I recognize Caden does not thrive academically in this environment. Accepting this has caused me personal turmoil. I wanted him to thrive in this environment. I wanted him to be like his peers in a regular education classroom. But, I quickly learned what I wanted and what Caden wanted were two different things. Isn’t that how it normally is with parents?
We started our educational journey in FirstSteps where the education was one-on-one. Then, we progressed to preschool where everyone was on the same level and taught in the same classroom. Next, we tackled kindergarten—I faced reality. Caden started having trouble keeping up academically. The class moved on—as is the way of the regular education classroom. Luckily, I recognized this from my teaching days. I recognized how terrible I would feel to be lost in a classroom, to feel left behind. Caden is still learning numbers, shapes, colors, and letters. He is conquering cutting, coloring, and writing. This year, Caden’s kindergarten classmates moved to the first grade. While Caden will visit his former classmates, he is not able to do the first-grade work at this time. His peers have mastered some mathematical concepts; they are reading.
After some reflection and a few tears, I came to a realization. More students could use the structure of the FMD classroom. Concepts are taught through small-group instruction. Students are given tasks and classwork based on skill level—not on what is next in the textbook. Students are allowed to set a learning pace. All learning styles are addressed. Social and living skills are taught—more kids need these in my opinion. Lifelong friends are made. Parents bond, because we have an immediate and obvious commonality.
Of course, parents must be watchful and formulate their own opinions. I was often afraid the bar would be set too low. I seem to remember making that comment. However, for Caden, the bar is set too high in the regular education classroom. I believe a regular education classroom challenges Caden, which is great. However, the FMD classroom allows Caden to be a leader and allows him to find more success; he is guided by professionals who are equipped with the knowledge to teach students with his disability.
It took time for me to grow as Caden’s mom. Now, I look at his accomplishments; I look at how far he has come. And, I know we are continuing our educational journey together. I hope reading and writing will be in our future. But, I know we must conquer letters and coloring first—at Caden’s pace not his Mom’s.
I am grateful for the teachers who help Caden reach his potential. Caden is grateful for them as well. A few nights ago, when I put Caden to bed, I explained he would have school the next day. He smiled and quickly went to sleep; he was eager to see his friends and go someplace where he could be successful, where he could belong. Even children with disabilities crave Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maslow’s_hierarchy_of_needs). Thank goodness Caden is at the “Esteem” level. I am proud of Caden’s accomplishments. As he would say with a series of claps, “Yay!!!”