Respecting our differences

Teaching Pre K-8, Mar 2000 by Glazer, Susan Mandel

Acknowledging differences productively can bring us closer

In the recent made-for-television movie Anya's Bell, Della Reese played a blind woman who had never left home and was fearful of doing so. Her friendship with a sensitive, dyslexic 10-year-old boy, who was determined that she venture into the outside world, resulted in a two-way deal. Reese's character would permit the boy to guide her outside, using a walking stick, if he'd permit her to teach him to read using Braille. The respectful reciprocity between the two resulted in his learning to read and her finally venturing into the world beyond her home.

This heartwarming film included some distressing moments. The boy suffered from peer name-calling such as "dummy," "retard" and "stupid." His teacher's intolerance of, and lack of knowledge about, children who learn differently resulted in punishment She used embarrassment tactics and reported to his mother, "I kept him in the dunce corner for weeks. He failed both his spelling and reading tests. His lack of respect for authority is intolerable." The mothers advocacy, which included the fact that the child studied diligently every night, was deemed false by the teacher. The conference ended with the frustrated, distraught mother shouting at the insensitive teacher, sharing her belief that the teacher was incompetent.

The "in" crowd. The world is filled with children and adults who learn in different ways. We often believe that we respect and accept those differences, but I'm not so sure that 1, or anyone else, can be as open to and accepting of others as we'd like to believe we are. Human rejection results because children and adults often succumb to the tendency to want to be homogeneous. The peer pressure to be part of the W group controls behaviors, dress codes and friendships for children as well as adults.

The desire to meet educational "standards," parent demands and political agendas promotes the adoption of school- and district-wide teaching practices and materials. Standardized tests are usually administered to all children in all schools in all districts in a town, county, state and even a nation.

We've submitted to valuing individuals and their unique qualities in the 1980s and 1990s in education. But, on the other hand, achieving high scores on standardized tests administered to all learners at the local and national level has become paramount in the minds of many educators and parents. It seems all right to most of us that very young children learn to talk, cut teeth and toilet train at different ages. Reading or writing later than others is not, however, readily accepted.

Different needs. More stressful is the fact that there have been widely successful commercial attempts to foster homogeneity among learners. Several years ago, writer E.D. Hirsch compiled a list of facts that he considered important for all of us to know. When I thumbed through the alphabetical groupings of "crucial-in-order-to-be-literate" facts, I was outraged. I thought of all the lay persons who would read and had read this list, and how many might interpret its message as: "If I memorize this Est (approximately 7,000 facts), I guess I'll be culturally literate." However, I often think of many facts that I believe are important for all of us to know, but which aren't included on Hirsch's list.

Test scores, canons, norms, benchmarks and other homogenizing agents support our need to be like everyone else. Human responses to these agents provide fodder for reporters all over the world. When news headlines report test scores, the world attempts to act.

For me, and others concerned with the individual's unique learning qualities, the reactions result in feelings of guilt. We need to support our boards of education who want the very best for children. We also need, however, to respect differences and find ways to acknowledge them productively.

Fostering sensitivity. How can this be accomplished? Television programs like Anya's Bell make a difference. But it's we, as teachers, who are responsible for guiding others to accept differences. As a very young teacher, I had a student who was severely disabled due to cerebral palsy. John sat in a wheelchair, slumped over unless he was strapped upright. He dribbled, and spoke with such slurred speech that he could barely be understood.

The other 28 children in the class stayed away from him. My verbal attempts to encourage them to interact made little difference. I'd even push John's wheelchair into the middle of a block-playing area or a game of catch on the playground, but in vain. The children ran from the situation as if John were a plague.

One day, while I was working with John on a project, a child approached me from behind, obviously to avoid interaction with the "different"child.

Without thinking, I wrapped my arm around John's chest and positioned my head next to his so that we both faced the child who was requesting my assistance. "How can I help you, Tim?" I asked. The child stepped back and didn't respond. I repeated myself, still holding onto John, giving Tim the message "You'd better accept John, or you can't get to me!"