Dumbing Down

October 8, 2014

It was raining all Sunday.  Our plans for apple picking were not executable and Robert understood that too. Although he reminded us, “Apples, apples”, he didn’t insist on a trip to the orchard.  It was a day for indoor activities and a trip to a museum seemed like a good idea,  Since we had a few passes to the Planetarium in the Science Museum, I made three reservations for the show Big Bird’s Adventure: One World, One Sky. Everything went smoothly.  We got to the museum on time, got our tickets, waited in line patiently, found good seats, watched calmly, and left promptly. Maybe too promptly.

Neither Jan nor I asked Robert if he liked the show.  We both knew that Robert would answer, “Yes, yes, yes”, but he would not tell the truth.  “Yes, yes, yes” is the  answer Robert gives after every movie or show.  The only way to check if he really liked a presentation would be to ask, “Do you want to see it again?”  Then he might assertively reject or approve such opportunity.

We could ask, “Did you like the show?”, but neither Jan nor I felt like it.  We were both ashamed of our choice.  The show was for very little children.  Not for 21 years old  man.  We were dumbing Robert down.  He was clearly bored, the same way we, his parents, were.

Why then I chose this show out of the three presented in the Planetarium?

Well, I thought it would be easier to get Robert readjusted to the place, by presenting him with something… simpler.  But why I even thought that he would need readjustment? He was in the planetarium before, although a few years before this visit.  He was, also, a frequent visitor to OMNI theater.  Just this September, he visited it twice to see a documentary about Canadian railroad and a beautiful film about Jerusalem.  He loved both presentations. He behaved perfectly.

There is really no logical explanation except admitting that maybe deep down, we, the parents, are as prejudicial in regards to Robert’s abilities  as some (SOME) of his teachers and  school administrators are.

The Vertex in the Middle

A year ago, in the post https://krymarh.wordpress.com/2012/04/18/importance-of-little-words/ , I noticed that the word that impeded Robert’s learning of division of fractions  was not “multiplication” , not  “reciprocal” but “instead”.  I used seemingly simple direction, “Instead of dividing, multiply by reciprocal.”  I also concluded that this rule was much more important not as an advice on how to divide, but as an example of the meaning of the word “instead”.

A few days ago, I worked with Robert on naming angles using three letters.  We, encountered the same problem we had done a few months ago, on our first try.  Robert didn’t understand my direction, “Vertex has to be in the middle.”  Robert knew “vertex.  He could point to it without a problem.  He didn’t understand “in the middle”  in the context of the three letters (two of them naming points  on angle’s arms and one naming the vertex).

It has to be said that part of Robert’s problem was the way I introduced this task to him.  Without  thinking, I just followed the problem from Saxon Math 4.  The angle with a vertex A  which Robert was supposed to name using three letters was one of the  four angles in the quadrilateral.  All the letters A, B, C, and D named vertices.  The way I tried to help Robert, confused him even more.

I put the textbook aside, and drew many angles not attached to any other shapes.  Now, there were three points but only one vertex.  Still, it took two days of practice, before the direction, “vertex in the middle”, resulted in the correct answers. This time the culprit was, “In the middle.”.

The most important gain of those lessons was not that Robert learned how to name angles with three letters, but that he understood the concept of being in the middle in one more context.

Identifying Errors, Diagnosing Problems, Designing Intervention

I noticed, while teaching Robert to divide decimals, that he made  quite a few mistakes. It was clear that he lost some of the previously acquired skills.

He made most, if not all,  errors while dividing large numbers by 7, 8, or 9.  I went back to dividing two digit numbers with reminder. I soon found out that Robert had difficulties with these and similar problems:  61:8, 60:8, 62:8 but he was fine with those problems 64:8, 65:8, 67:8.

I noticed a pattern. When the dividend was a digit, two or three below 64, Robert had problems.  When dividend was slightly larger than 64, Robert didn’t make mistakes. This pattern repeated itself with other dividends and divisors.

At first, I just wanted to do reteaching using the old approach.  Upon hearing direction, “Help yourself”, Robert wrote the  multiples of eight (the divisor): 8, 16, 24, 32, 40, 48, 56, 64, 72, 80, placed 61 (60 or 62) between 56 and 64 , found a quotient of 7, and finished dividing without problems. I believe that repeating this strategy many times would  at some point lead to an  improvement.

Still, I wanted Robert to grasp the idea behind choosing 7 or 8 as a  quotient  . I designed other worksheets.  In the center of the page I wrote in big numbers, 64:8. I drew a line through the center of the page (but not through the division).  Above the line I wrote all the divisions with dividends larger than 64 (65, 66, 67, 68, 69), below the line I wrote the ones with dividends smaller than  64 (60, 61, 62, 63).

I made similar pages for different problems.

Why I did that?  What was the difference?

Since Robert could find most of the quotients and reminders, I did not want to lose too much time by reteaching using the old method. I believed (this is all domain of beliefs not knowledge yet) that the new approach would help Robert relearn quickly.

I knew, however, that this method could be helpful only if Robert develops better understanding of numbers. On the other hand, Robert’s understanding of numbers could be greatly improved by mastering this approach.

If I Ever Write a Book

If I ever write a book about Robert, I might title it, Parallel Life, as Robert is never really included.   Hardly tolerated, he remains on the sidelines of the so-called “communities”.

If I ever write a book about Robert, I might title it, Without a Friend, for, sadly, obvious reasons.

If I ever write a book about Robert, I might title it, Born Without Language, as Robert had not had any receptive or expressive language before his fourth birthday.

If I ever write a book about Robert, I might title it Navigating among  Rocks of Rejections, as Robert and I experienced plenty of those.

If I ever write a book about Robert, I might title it, Encounters with Disguised Sharks in the Ocean of Hypocrisy.  Just one chapter on special education laws and practices would explain the title. 

I might write a book with a more optimistic name. It might be From Thoughts to Language, Inserting Language, Making Connections, Finding Guides,  or Locating Harbors.

The title would sound less bitter, but the matter of fact, the contents would be the same.

If I ever…

The Classroom to Scream Together

In the spring of 1995, my son’s teacher from diagnostic program in a district preschool, her administrative supervisor, and I visited a collaborative program as a possible placement.  Our presence did not surprise anybody, as it was planned ahead of time.  Robert, energetic 3 years old, was with us, because I did not have anybody to babysit him.

It is hard to describe what was happening in the classroom.   Certainly, it did not help that Robert was running along the wall. I tried to keep him on my lap, but Houdini he had been since his birth, he wiggled from any of my holds.  Three of us, visitors, were sitting maybe 5-6 yards from the swing hanging from the ceiling. Next to the swing two adults were standing. As I learned later, they were speech therapist and occupational therapist.  The third adult, main classroom teacher, was standing next to a short, vibrating line of children waiting for their turn on a swing.  They wanted to have fun, not fully aware that it was a tricky way to provide sensory integration and speech therapy at the same time. It was believed that  placing a child on the swing  would lead to increased speech production through sensory input. I still have vivid images from this classroom, but no idea  what area of speech production was addressed. I did not hear anything because one of the students screamed all the time we were there.  Let me be clear, I did not mind the screaming.  It might come and go, and you cannot predict when it would happen.  I did not mind the screaming. I did mind however the fact that my son’s teacher from our school district turned to me and said, ” This classroom is a good match for Robert.  He screams just like that girl.”

I sat passively till the end of our scheduled observation.  I was frozen by realization how difficult would be to find a right program/teacher for Robert.  How little had been known about teaching children with special needs.  I was speechless.  At that time, I was still a nice, shy person, who made every effort to acknowledge  other people perspectives and avoid confronting them. I did not say anything.

Today, I would force myself to immediately reply, “Are you saying that this classroom is appropriate for Robert because he can have a companion in screaming?  I think that he needs a program where he will learn NOT to SCREAM.”

Luckily, Robert got a home program from PRIVATE SCHOOL and in one day he became a different student. Yes, it was  a skilfully delivered Applied Behavior Analysis  that made a difference by providing Robert with clear directions and clear understanding of what was expected of him. In one day, Robert became cooperative, ready to learn. He stayed in his seat for the most of the session and, ask for a break when he needed it. In just one day!

Meantime, Robert school district demonstrates the same sort of thinking expressed by the teacher in the spring of 1995, as if the venerable  institution of public learning represented by its workers, did not learn anything over 18 years that passed. Sadly, I suspect, that my son’s school district is not alone in digging itself in a deep trenches of stone age approach to special education.

Yesterday, I observed Robert during a speech therapy.  As it was a year before and then another year before, and a year before year all the way  to  the school year 2006/2007 the speech therapy has been delivered to students based on their perceived level of communication. Those who have more language, get more stimulation from their peers who also have more language. Those who have least language get much less stimulation from their peers. The students slow each other, they don’t have any peer models, that would motivate them and offer them templates for sentence production. Moreover, it might be that each of the students has different areas of strength and different areas of needs, but in this model the strengths cannot be brought up and enforced, and the needs are lost.

Let me be clear, I have never advocated for more capable children to sacrifice their higher aspirations to help those peers who don’t speak as well .  But I believe that it is possible to assemble groups in which every member  would benefit despite  being on so-called different language levels. When the intervention is based on good understanding of strengths and needs, it should be driven by specific goals.  When the “intervention” is based solely on “levels”, there is no moving forward.

The rule, “Let’s keep all the screamers together” is damaging for all the screamers.  After all, they do scream for different reasons and they all need to learn not to scream.

Lesson from Cormorants

Half through our walk around Boston’s Pleasure Bay, we took a short break to look at the Bay and Castle  Island.  Surprisingly, I did not  tell Robert what HE was seeing. Surprisingly, because usually I cannot help but to “enrich”  our walks with pointing or naming everything Robert should notice:  airplanes landing or taking off, motorboats, sailboats, and ferries; seagulls and cormorants;  people walking, running, biking, roller skating, swimming, children on the playground. There is so much to notice on Castle Island that it might be a great place to practice/teach/drill (?) joint attention.

The airplanes  flying over the bay almost every minute  offer the perfect opportunity for teaching pointing:

I stretched my arm. “Airplane”

I stretched Robert’s arm.  “Airplane”

Minute later, another plane.

I stretched my arm. “Airplane”

I stretched Robert’s arm.  “Airplane”

Again and again. I could repeat the sequence 30 times or more, but I usually took a long break after 5 times at the beginning of the stroll.  By the time we returned to our car, Robert and I pointed to airplanes maybe 5 more times. Over the few years Robert “noticed” seagulls and cormorants, dogs swimming and fetching sticks, blue blossoms of chicory and burrs of burdock plants.  I don’t think Robert mastered shared attention during those trips, but he certainly became more aware of his surroundings.

Later I used the trips to help Robert “remember” what he had seen on the Castle Island.  As we walked, I “helped” Robert noticing over and over three or four of the same things.

“What do people do at Pleasure Bay”

“People walk” “People run”.  People talk on the phones” , People swim”

Since many people walk, run, and talk on their phones, Robert had an ample opportunities to hear and repeat what the people did.  On the way home, in the car, we repeated a few times the phrases from our list.  At home, Robert wrote, what he remembered: “People walk, run, swim” A gesture, placing a hand by the ear, reminded Robert that the people also talk on their phones.

I have never planned teaching ahead of any of the trips.  The more someone has to learn, the more teaching opportunities the world presents.   I realized that when one day, Robert and I watched diving cormorants.  They floated on the water, dove for  quite a while only to  emerge in  different spots. What a great, alive illustration of concepts, “appear” and “disappear.”  A few weeks earlier, Robert encountered these two words in one of the vocabulary workbooks. I wasn’t sure if he grasped their meanings.  Diving cormorants showed Robert much better than I did what appearing and disappearing mean.

Almost every  excursion to Pleasure Bay was “enriched” by some sort of learning.

But yesterday, I did not tell Robert what HE noticed.  It was a beautiful day and sitting next to each other in silence was the best way to enjoy it.

And so we did.

As of September 14, 2013

Robert and I continued doing  the exercises that prepare for finding differences between 100 (or 60) and another number in memory. We still begin with writing the subtraction problems, for instance 100-38. Then, Robert rewrites the problem replacing one subtraction with two partial subtractions: 100-30-8. With this visual support, he doesn’t have problems finding the solutions. As we continue,  I ask him not to write, but to say aloud what he is supposed to do, “100 minus 30 is 70 minus 8 is 62.”  But he rushes through without saying the whole sentence, just the final answer.  That would be great if it did not lead to more errors down the line.  As long as he is required to say the whole sentence, the errors are rare.

After two pages of such exercises Robert returns to problems involving time and money. I thought that the introductory exercises would help Robert now.  This is not the case.  The first problem on the page, expressing 3;48 as 12 minutes before 4:00,  confuses him.  But with every problem, Robert becomes better. Unfortunately, tomorrow, the whole process will be replayed.  It will take a couple of weeks, before Robert solve correctly the first task on the page.

Today, we have finished the last chapter of Real Science 2.  A relatively easy book for Robert with not many new vocabulary words, but with many topics that apply to real life.

One of the advantages of teaching such topics to your own child  is that it allows you to  support reading of the text with those points of reference your child already has but only you are aware of their existence. During reading, I can remind Robert  those experiences that relate to the text. I can also bring the concepts from the book to add  to any non-learning activity and enrich the experience. For instance the meaning of a new word “friction” was literally felt  by Robert during our driving through a  road under construction.  The phrases, “less friction” and ” more friction” were  associated with car either gliding on the new surface or bumping during the ride over an uneven pavement.

For the last few days, Robert was practicing  pronouns with the help of pages from No Glomour Grammar 1 and 2.  It was rather relaxing activity for him. The emphasis was of course on proper usage and understandable pronunciation. The last one, was as always more difficult than the first one.

For Robert, the hardest were exercises in listening comprehension also from No Glomour series.  It was easier for Robert to answer four wh questions (who, what, where and when) as they related to two sentence long texts supported by  illustrations, then to answer one “WHEN” question as it applied to one sentence with a picture.

That one sentence was longer and more complicated than the two short sentences in the previous texts. From the picture, it is easy to deduce who did what and where, but it is much harder to “see” WHEN something took place. Moreover, the vocabulary  describing the time of events is larger and more diverse than vocabulary related to subjects, actions, and places. Not just “Monday, 8:15 PM, in the evening, last year”, but also “before or after something, while doing something else”  and so on. The answer to the “when” question can be found at the beginning, at the end, and in the middle of the sentence. Robert was able to seize such words as ” on Monday”, “in the morning”  but not “in the middle of the ride” and a few similar.  Whenever the phrase related to time (to WHEN) was harder to find, I asked Robert to read the text and find it himself as that was much easier for him than attend to my speech and finding the relevant part of a sentence.

As I watched Robert’s struggles with the questions, it occurred to me that although Robert’s  listening comprehension was always delayed (He did not have one receptive word until he was four and a half years old) the gap is getting wider. It has a lot to do with the fact that the people who talk to Robert utter fewer words than they would use with young children on a similar developmental level.  In doctors offices and restaurants, the nurses and  waitresses ask Robert only one question and when he doesn’t immediately answer, they turn to me waiting for my answer.   i don’t answer.  I translate which means I pose the same question to Robert. he answers me.  Of course, if the nurse or a doctor repeats the question to Robert, chances are he answers them.  But they very rarely do that.

Robert is pretty good at following directions.  When another person tells Robert what to do, he will comply.  When the other person demands a reply, he won’t  answer. Robert’s ability to follow directions is a result of a very strong emphasis that his private school and I put on this aspect of communication. I can only speculate, that if similar emphasis was placed on Robert’s intraverbal skills, he would listen more attentively and answer the questions much better.

Counting Coins

Chances are that when you ask the teacher (or administrator) leading the transition classroom what exactly the students are learning in “functional mathematics”,the response will be, “Counting coins.”

I don’t have anything against counting coins.  I think that counting by dimes, nickles, quarters, and pennies can teach many important math concepts.  Through counting by tens, fives,and twenty fives the students can get a better grasps on decimal system and get an important introduction to fractions (1/4. 1/2, 3/4) and decimals.

Counting coins, however, is not a functional skill. At least not AS functional as its dominance in many  transition programs indicates. In today’s world this skill can be utilized only while buying snacks or drinks in vending machines.  Since, however, most of those items are unhealthy, the skill of counting coins should not be practiced there. When Robert returns cans and bottles, the machines do all the counting for him.

Even if he were using cash and not his debit card to pay his bills, Robert should not concentrate on counting coins in the change received, but on counting dollars.  Counting the change in coins would only distract him from paying attention to bigger bills, and might lead (I don’t believe that this might really happen) to being cheated of much more then a few pennies.

It is possible, that at some point, in this world which day after day becomes less compassionate, Robert will be homeless.  He might beg for money.  He might look for coins on the pavements of sidewalks all over the city, maybe then the skill would come handy.  But as I learned, when Robert considers something very important, he learns quickly, often without ANY instruction from others.

Despite everything I have written above, the skill of counting coins will come handy today, as I plan to open Robert’s piggy bank and place all the coins in the appropriate rolls before taking them to the bank and exchange them for paper bills. That means that Robert will be practicing counting by ones, fives, tens, and 25s.  upon returning from the bank, he will do something much more valuable.  He will count his dollar bills.

The fact that in so many school programs and programs for adults with developmental disabilities, counting coins is the pillar of “functional academics” is really depressing. It demonstrates the  great disconnect between the real needs of the individuals with disabilities and the people who, in one way or another, are responsible for them. It sadly indicated that those people are not learning.

Not learning, because, there are teachers and the professionals invested in special education, who already came to understanding, that there are other math skills which are much more needed.  Much more functional.

The first and the most basic is to round the amount of money to the higher dollar amount.  This way, when Robert is buying something that costs $3.28 or $3.99, he knows that he should give at least $4.00 (or $5 or $10…)

The collaborative program, my son attended in 2005/2006 school year was teaching just that.  That was not,sadly, something any teacher in his public school TRANSITION program has ever done. For the last 3+ years they have been practicing counting coins. Over and over and over.

As I said, I don’t have anything against practicing counting coins from the mathematical point of view. But this is not a functional skill even in those situation when Robert has to use money instead of his debit card.

I realized that clearly when Robert was trying to buy his watermelon flavored frozen lemonade in Roger William Park and Zoo.  It cost $3.50. Robert had dollars and a few coins.  He did not know what to give to the vendor.

Luckily, I could give him some clues.  Robert learned quickly and during the next visit to the zoo he handed seller $4.00. Oh, well, he forgot to wait for the change, but that is another lesson and another story.

Time and Time Again Help Yourself

During teaching Robert to substitute  digital times with equivalent verbal phrases, I noticed that he  had difficulties finding  the number of minutes missing to the full hour.  He did not have difficulties with easy times: 10;55, 10:50, 10:45. But to replace 10:47 with an expression, “13 minutes before 11 o’clock”, he had to first find the difference 60-47. Finding the difference is not the problem for Robert.  Problem was that he did not know he had to find it in the first place.   Every time he encountered similar time, he was startled as he kept forgetting what to do.

So I kept reminding him, “Find the difference 60-47”. Then I switched to telling Robert, “Find the missing minutes.” Finely, my direction was, “Help yourself”.

I often use the phrase, “Help Yourself” as the last, the least (?) invasive but the most general prompt, hoping that by the time I use it, Robert would establish a  strong connection between this phrase and the step he needs to take.

I realized, however, that if Robert was able to calculate the difference 60-47  in his mind then the whole problem would become straightforward. As long as Robert doesn’t immediately see that 47 minutes are 13 minutes away from the full hour, he is  distracted  and not often sure what to do next.

Before zeroing on mental computation I  checked what Robert could and couldn’t do,  I noticed some strange results.  For instance, Robert didn’t have any problems subtracting one digit number from two digits one: 56-8, 22-5, and so on except finding those differences which seemed the easiest for me: 30-7, 100-5.

I also observed that when Robert  wrote the subtraction 60-47 vertically and I didn’t let him write anything else: no regrouping, no crossing, and no “borrowing” but asked him to LOOK at the numbers, IMAGINE what he should do, and, TELL me the answer, he could do that.

But when the subtraction was written horizontally, the same directions did not bring any results.

Yet, the problem with vertical subtraction was that without seeing the numbers Robert was unable to calculate their difference and there was no next step that would lead to solving problems mentally.  So I decided to apply the same method  I used a year ago with subtracting from 100. (As a preparation for counting the  change from a dollar.)

To transfer Robert’s ability from subtracting on paper to mental calculation I followed those steps:

I presented a model, 100-47=100-40-7.

Robert first mentally subtracted 100-40 and wrote the answer, 60, above the  minus sign. Then he mentally subtracted  7 from 60 and wrote =53 at the end of the expression.In the following problems he wrote the model himself.

During the next step, Robert still wrote, “100-40-7 but he was not allowed to write 60  above the first difference but he had to keep it in his mind and use it for the  second operation.

During the third step, Robert was not allowed to write 100-40-7  but he had to say, “Hundred take away forty is sixty.  Sixty take away 7 is fifty-three.”and write =53 at the end of the problem.

Now, I replaced 100 with 60, and Robert practiced finding the differences: 60-47, 60-32, 60-59 with the help of the expressions: 60-40-7, 60-30-2, 60-50-9 either written or said aloud.

Robert easily mastered the first and the second step but we are still working on the third.  It might be that Robert’s difficulties with saying long sequences of words affect his thinking performance. I will try to reduce the number of words. Maybe that will help.

Despite the fact that Robert still has some difficulties with mental computation, after a page of subtractions from 60 , we return to the page with digital times.  When Robert stumbles, I just tell him, “Help Yourself.” and he does.

On Homework

Yesterday, (Spetember 9, 2013) Robert brought homework from school.  Moreover, that was a homework he was fully capable of doing himself.

I consider an appropriate homework for children with special needs to be a very important tool fostering both academic and behavioral development. The homework connects school and home. It teaches students with special needs that they, too, have some responsibilities.  That they are like all other students. Homework conveys the idea  that what is learned at school, might affect the life beyond it, at present and in the future. A relatively easy homework for children with special needs can buster their self-esteem a lot.  Homework allows parents to understand better what their children are learning.  Is it too difficult?  Is it too easy?  How relevant are the curricula  to their children’s lives after school.

This last question, is the most troublesome as it doesn’t have simple answer. Both, parents and representatives of school (administrators, specialists, teachers) ask that question often. Too often in one context and not often enough in another.

This question is rarely asked in relation to the education of typical children although so many adults assert that they have forgotten more than a half of what they learned at school, and have never used huge chunk of what was taught to them.

If the value of education was reduced to what the person remembers all through his/her life or  what the person applies explicitly in his/her work, the answer to the question above might be simple.  But the effects of education are stretched beyond that.  It is the learning process itself that might be the most  beneficial to the person’s development. The processes of acquiring and assimilating information, the efforts to solve problems through deduction, induction, or trail and error approaches lead to the most important, although the hardest to asses gains in development.

A homework obligates the teacher to match his/her students abilities.  The range of those abilities in one, small special needs classroom might be quite wide and  might require the teacher to give different homework to each of the students. If he/she gives too easy assignment, the parents would be concerned asking   if their child is learning anything at all at school.  If the assignment is too difficult, the parent and the student will end up terribly frustrated as they would not know how to support their son’s or daughter’s attempts to complete the assignments.  They might just do homework themselves and vent their frustration on the child and/or the teacher.  (Parents of so-called “typical”  students are sometimes completing their children homework themselves, and they are also frustrated about that. I still remember the uproar over so-called ‘Everyday Mathematics”‘ curriculum, which had to go because the parents didn’t know how to help their children.)

It is clear that from the special education teacher’s perspective, homework not only requires a very good understanding of what students is or isn’t  capable of  doing, and a lot of work with students and his/her parents (to explain what to do and how to do it if the the  need for assistance arises) but it also can lead to frustration when the student doesn’t complete the assignment, and parents feel burdened and powerless.

From Robert’s perspective, however, there was a feeling of completing an important mission.  Although upon returning from school, he placed the most of his school papers on the table, as he usually does,  he brought  his math journal to me.  I asked as I always do, “Do you want to do it now or later?”

Robert as always rushed with a quick and almost automatic answer, “Later, later, later.”  Then he stopped, analyzing what he had just told me and taking time to retrieve the right word, said, “NOW”.
It has be added, that after I posted this blog, Robert never again brought any homework home. Very sad and very telling about the state of special education.