Sep 9, 2011

Teaching the Child with Symptoms of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD)

Call her Claudia. Claudia first enrolled in the New Salem Educational Initiative as a Grade 4 student during the 2010-2011 academic year. At the time, her father, Roland, expressed concern that Claudia was not reading well enough for her grade level. Teachers, counselors, and at least one physician also conveyed great concern about Claudia’s difficulty in focusing on academic tasks and about her tendency to exhibit inappropriate verbal and physical behavior. Roland had begun to consider advice deeming that Claudia should take a medicinal drug for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).

Given the prevailing concerns, I scheduled a one-on-one two-hour weekly academic session for Claudia, reserving for her the same kind of undivided attention that I have for a child with Asperger’s Syndrome. I launched Claudia on a highly aggressive program of skill development. She proved herself to be a very bright girl who responded eagerly to the focused attention that I was giving her. She rose with great speed to full grade level performance in both math and reading, proving quickly that she had all of the latent and manifest academic skills necessary to excel in her grade level assignments at school.

The problem of focus was in evidence at times, even under one-on-one conditions. I came to understand the problem as it occurred in my own sessions with Claudia to be derived from two main areas of concern: 1) certain factors in her biological history and current life circumstances; and 2) certain flights of imagination revealed in the context of the moment. I drew upon my experience with other such apparent attention deficit cases to gather information on Claudia’s personal history and current life at school and at home. I would offer an empathetic ear and advice as appropriate, give her a chance for further comment, allow enough (but not excessive) time for full venting of frustrations and discussion of solutions--- then bring the session back into focus upon the math or reading skill designated for acquisition.

Claudia does most definitely have a biological and environmental history that contributes to her fidgety demeanor. I built strong enough relationships with Roland, Claudia’s mother (Dinah), and other family members that they confided some very uncomfortable aspects of Claudia’s life story. Dinah used crack cocaine at the time that she was pregnant with Claudia. During infancy, Claudia was at times neglected, left for long periods in her crib without timely feeding and diaper changing. Claudia’s parents had already split by the time Claudia was born. She now lives most of the time with Roland, but formally Roland and Dinah have joint custody, so Claudia spends two or three nights a week at Dinah’s house. Both parents are capable of launching piercing verbal invective toward Claudia. There is nothing that I have been able to discern in the current behavior of Claudia’s parent that rises to the level of clinically diagnosable abuse. But Claudia gives evidence of quite a few emotional scars resulting from her personal history and her current situation.

With regard to Claudia’s flights of fancy, I would give them serious attention, treating them as creative observations of and interaction with the world around her. And when Claudia demonstrated a periodic tendency to squirm in her chair and stand up reflexively, I let her do that for a time, then after a reasonable period had elapsed, I would remind her that training herself to sit down as necessary is something that we are working on, because there are times when she must do that at school. Over several weeks and months, Claudia grew much better at remaining focused and relatively stationary in a designated seat.

Claudia came to appreciate the validation that accompanied this approach. Her academic ascent eventually took her above grade level performance, so that by the end of that first year of enrollment in the New Salem Educational Initiative, her Grade 4 year at school, Claudia was performing math operations and reading assignments typically associated with students at Grade 5.

I have a strong conviction that far too many children are now diagnosed with ADHD and, especially, that the resort to medication for treatment of the manifested symptoms is too quick. Classroom teachers have a responsibility to construct an engaging learning environment that captures the attention of those whose ability to focus seems less than ideal. Teachers should also demonstrate caring and patience with children struggling to gain full control over their emotional and physical selves. They should strive to understand enough of a child’s biological and environmental history that they can gain proper perspective on the factors contributing to the student’s behavior. Then, based on the understanding of those facets of a student’s life that have provided daunting challenges, the teacher should treat the child with great sensitivity and high respect. When despite these efforts, the classroom teacher still faces an unruly or uncooperative child, trained personnel should pull the child out for one-on-one sessions of the sort I have described in Claudia’s sessions of the New Salem Educational Initiative. Such one-on-one sessions should continue until she or he is able to return to the regular classroom environment with acceptable demeanor.

In this way, we should severely limit those cases in which medication is administered to the child manifesting symptoms of ADHD. We should try every available strategy to help the child train herself or himself to achieve a level of self-control that will be conducive to academic accomplishment. And in like manner, the child should be taught to negotiate the social environment on the basis of redirected and trained behavioral responses, without recourse to medication.

Sep 8, 2011

Where Have All the Boomers Gone?

In the summer of 1961, between my fifth and sixth grade years at Dan D. Rogers Elementary School in Dallas, Texas, I attended Camp Grady Spruce for two weeks. Among the camp experiences in which I participated were sing-alongs, led by young people from Texas high schools and colleges. Folk music was very big at the time, but this was my first significant exposure to the music of Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger. I remember so clearly the words to Seeger’s “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?,” represented by the lyrics at the beginning and end of the song as follows:

Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time ago…

Where have all the graveyards gone?
Covered with flowers every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

I cannot say that at the time I grasped the full context for the words, but those lyrics clearly conveyed to me a sense of soldiers dying in lamentable wars, leaving behind grieving loved ones. And more even than the words themselves was the sincerity that seemed to underscore the lyrics, calling listeners forward to a commitment for the betterment of people’s lives.

This was just the beginning of the message songs that would pervade the 1960s and early 1970s, whereby rock and rhythm ‘n blues music also sent out a call to action. Such music very much formed the backdrop for the opportunity that came for commitment in the civil rights, women’s, and antiwar movements. Young people rose to the occasion, lending energy, time, and a variety of talents to public actions that improved the lives of women and people of color; and to a consideration of the wisdom of using military violence in addressing human conflict.

I was a student at Southern Methodist University (SMU)in Dallas from 1969 through 1973, right at the time when the great social movements were reaching the nation’s heartland. Many of us committed time to what was then SMU Volunteer Services, to Project Motivation (which connected college students as tutors to inner city schools), and many other organizations dedicated to the betterment of people’s lives. But I know of only one person from that era at SMU who is still in Dallas working day to day in an endeavor synchronous with the spirit of social activism that infused the campus in those days. That person is Terry Ford, who in 1978 launched East Dallas Community School and has been at it ever since, founding two additional schools on the model of the birth-to-Grade 3 model of foundational academic instruction meant to secure a student for continued academic success.

And the fact is that I know far too few boomers in any locale who have dedicated themselves to sustained efforts for social justice. Very few boomers have come to my attention who are consciously and assertively devoting their lives to the improvement of conditions for people mired in poverty, or to initiatives that advance human equity toward the achievement of genuine democracy.

Having achieved much in the realms of civil rights and women’s rights, our next great task is the overhaul of K-12 education. We have much work to do if we are to impart to all of our precious children the quality of education that they will need for full and successful participation in the life of the polity. At the time, the most articulate voice and the most dedicated spirit in furthering educational equity is Michelle Rhee, the erstwhile education chief in Washington, D. C., who has now initiated StudentsFirst with the mission of achieving transformational education reform. But Rhee was born in 1969, the year that I began matriculating at SMU.

Where have all the boomers gone? Most still have many years before they go to graveyards. Many will have the time and the money to return to conscious social activism. Having ridden the waves of the social movements of the late 1960s and early 1970s, they have a responsibility to direct new currents for the advancement of human equity and the attainment of full democracy in the United States.

Sep 7, 2011

Teaching the Child with Asperger’s Syndrome

Call him Cason. Cason first enrolled in the New Salem Educational Initiative as a Grade 2 student during the 2010-2011 academic year. At the time, his mother, Amanda, expressed deep concern at the indications of teachers that Cason’s behavior at school was erratic, and that his classroom decorum was preventing the needed improvement in math and reading skills, both of which were significantly below grade level. Amanda did not want to see her son fall behind in this early stage of school. She was acutely aware that for Cason this would mean getting caught in the cycle of poverty that typified so many people around her.

Some aspects of Cason’s story were typical of all students participating in the New Salem Educational Initiative, who are from challenged backgrounds and often functioning two grade levels or more below that of school enrollment. This frequently results in an entire academic year of intensified instruction in both math and reading before students rise to grade level in both key skill areas and embark on a college preparatory track.

In Cason’s case, though, the challenge was all the greater because of a mild case of autism that professionals had generally diagnosed as Asperger’s Syndrome. I quickly determined that Cason not only needed the small-group setting that has been so beneficial to the many students enrolled in the Initiative, but that to derive the desired benefit and make the necessary progress, Cason needed a weekly two-hour one-on-one session. For one evening every week I gave Cason all of my constant attention. Understanding that young people manifesting some level of autism are concrete thinkers for whom visual objects are powerful tools of learning, I worked to advance Cason’s reading vocabulary by associating words with physical objects and pictures suggestive of the word being studied. Cason quickly acquired a vocabulary appropriate to his Grade 2 level of school enrollment. Under similar physical stimuli, Cason also ascended to near grade level performance in math.

The conversations that Cason and I had en route to and from the weekly academic session were invaluable. I would tell Cason how proud I was of him and how smart he was. He would invariably ask me,

“Am I the smartest one?”

“Do you mean are you smarter than my other students?” I would ask in turn.

“Yeah. Am I the smartest one?”

“Well, you sure are a smart boy,” would be my reply. This would usually satisfy Cason, or he would move on as I continued to assure him how smart he was as I finessed the question of comparison.

Cason would often get excitable, sometimes mentally returning to some notable and even disturbing scenario at school. His monologue would variously combine utterances that he had made, that another student had spoken, or that a teacher had made, in the latter case often as an admonition. So for example, Cason’s words might contain the following sentences and phrases:

“I’m not going to tell you again. You better let go of my backpack. I’m not going to tell you again. I’m not going to tell you again. Give it back. I said give it back. I’m not going to tell you again. Well then you better quit saying those things. I said give it back. Well then you better quit saying those things. I said that you better quit. You better quit. I’m not going to tell you again. Sit down. I said sit down now. Well then you better quit saying those things. You better let go of my backpack.”

And so the repetition and jumbled order of the recounted incident in its verbal aspects would continue. It was very important when Cason would be reliving some incident, such as that implied above, that I not overreact or get excitable myself. My approach with Cason was always to remain calm and to coax him toward a state of calm. And if he told me that I was talking too loudly, even if I was just raising my voice a bit to give something a positive emotional emphasis (“Wow, that was a great idea you had!”), it was similarly important for me to lower my voice. And over time, knowing that while Cason could get his own decibel level up, he did not like it coming from me, I learned to say everything to him with extraordinary care, calm, and gentleness. He responded in like manner, and he thrived on the friendship that we built.

In response to the pedagogy and the human relationship that Cason found in the New Salem Educational Initiative, Cason will enter Grade 3 with a very viable chance of recording grade level performance in math and reading in the course of the 2011-2012 academic year. This young man’s Asperger’s condition presents challenges so daunting that adequate progress in school is frequently impeded. But carefully handled, Cason and his condition are much more manageable. As we anticipate the 2011-2012 academic year, I look forward to presenting Cason with additional exercises that I have designed in which the concrete becomes the gateway to the abstract, advancing both verbal and mathematic learning.

Amanda in the meantime has gained greater and greater hope for Cason’s academic future. She has a vision of the cycle of poverty ending for her family. She feels the satisfaction of a very concerned mother who has been able to get the needed help for her child. And her vision and her satisfaction are of the kind that build a better community for us all.

The Illusion of Local Control

Local control is an exalted value of K-12 education in the United States. But it is an illusion.

Control of K-12 education in the United States is in fact exerted by departments, schools, and colleges of education across the nation. These entities are formally distinct but they have highly similar approaches to the training of teachers. Those who teach the courses through which teachers gain certification are guided by very similar principles. Virtually all education professors believe the following:

Teachers are classroom facilitators whose function is to guide students in accessing information. The information to be accessed is that which either follows student interest or follows the teacher’s own identification of a topic to be investigated. There is an emphasis on exploring topics of interest to student and teacher, rather than the systematic accumulation of factual knowledge in areas such natural science, history, government, economics, psychology, English composition, English literature, the fine arts, and even mathematics. Professors of education maintain that in the ever-changing information age, a set body of systematically accumulated knowledge is unnecessary. A student or teacher who desires to know something can always look up whatever she or he needs to know. Memorization of factual information in such a context is a boring and wasteful exercise. Critical thinking is far more important than memorization.

Administrators, school counselors, curriculum development specialists, and any others training for positions pertinent to staffing any K-12 school in the United States imbibe a similar approach to education. Heads of teachers’ unions seek to advance the interests of teachers who hold such views, and they act in the financial interests of teachers whose advancement is determined by the “step and ladder” system, whereby a teachers’ pay advances in the same way as any other teacher who has taught for a like number of years and attained a certain academic degree. Elementary teachers generally get their degrees directly from education departments. Secondary teachers often have bachelor’s degrees in disciplines such as history, biology, or math, but virtually no teachers today have master’s degrees granted from such academic departments; rather, they are master’s degrees in teaching some subject, granted from departments, schools, or colleges of education.

There would be a much better approach to education than the one detailed and implied above. Such an approach would fill our classrooms with experts in natural science, history, government, economics, English composition, English literature, music, visual art, and mathematics. They would have master’s degrees in those disciplines. Teachers would certainly encourage student research and critical thinking, but only upon the foundation of a solid knowledge base, utilizing memorization as one important learning tool. Teachers in this professionalized sense would be paid for their knowledge and ability to advance student achievement, and their remuneration would be greater than anyone on a radically reduced central school district office staff.

But no one acting at the local level is likely to confront the various members of the education establishment with a program for the needed overhaul in K-12 education. Doing this takes more courage than is possessed by most people, who would have to confront those in the education establishment who are often fellow community members with whom one interacts in other realms of life.

And so we hold to our illusion of local control, stuck with a K-12 system of education that in fact is subtly nationalized via institutions of educator training and lamentably uniform in its inability to properly educate our young people for their individual futures as citizens who will also determine the fate of the United States.