Real Inclusion: A Social Justice Perspective - Educación inclusiva. Quererla es crearla

Mara Sapon-Shevin (msaponsh@syr.edu), Syracuse University.

SUMMARY: This article analyzes four key issues for understanding inclusive education from a social justice perspective: (1) How the limited conception of “normality” hinders inclusion; (2) The measures that should be taken at the school climate level to address issues related to student diversity and acceptance; (3) The need to go beyond restrictive forms of curriculum and pedagogy; (4) How teachers are prepared for inclusive education. Likewise, different solutions are presented for overcoming these obstacles, so that inclusion can be full and have the capacity to maximally transform the educational system and society.

KEYWORDS: Inclusion; Diversity; Social Justice; School climate; Teacher training.

Inclusion as if we meant it: a social justice perspective

ABSTRACT: This article explores how in order to understand inclusive education from a social justice perspective, we must attend to four issues: (1) How limited conceptions of “normality” impede inclusion: (2) The ways in which school climate must address issues of student diversity and acceptance; (3) The need to expand beyond restrictive forms of curriculum and pedagogy; (4) The ways in which teachers are prepared for inclusive education. Ways of overcoming these obstacles to full inclusion are presented so that inclusion can be maximally transformative of our educational system and society.

: Inclusion; Diversity; Social justice; School climate; Teacher education: Inclusion; Diversity; Social justice; School climate; Teacher education

1. Introduction

For many, the word inclusion means including students with disabilities in traditional educational settings and, at times, it is considered an extension of the principle previously known as integration or the attempt to bring children with disabilities back to educational normality.

However, more and more people understand that this definition of inclusive education is extremely restrictive. The first limitation is the inability to recognize that children differ from one another in thousands of ways, and that thinking about an education that responds and is inclusive for a set of differences (called disabilities) while ignoring differences of race, ethnic identity, sex, sexuality, language, religion, and class, does not create a truly inclusive educational system for all. Adapting an art activity for Jason, who has cerebral palsy and limited use of his hands, is a good start… but Jason being an African American, Muslim child who lives with his mother, and then coming home to a Christmas ornament that reads “For Dad and Mom,” does not truly show that he is thought of as a student with many characteristics, identities, and educational needs.

Perhaps today a limitation of the discussions on inclusion even greater is the inability to recognize that school policies are a reflection of more general societal values, and that the barriers to inclusive education are, therefore, deeply rooted in the social, political, economic, and ideological structures (Sapon-Shevin, 2007). One cannot simply “change schools” unless one accepts the extent to which such reforms require fundamental changes in thinking and policies that go beyond education.

In the recently published book, Condition Critical: Key Principles for Equitable and Inclusive Education (Lawrence-Brown & Sapon-Shevin, 2013), the existence of important principles that support a social justice approach to education that goes beyond limited categories and identities is proposed. The author often uses the following metaphor to illustrate the dimension of what inclusion requires and makes possible. When teaching dental education, professors have students brush their teeth and then give them a small red pill to chew. This pill, called a “disclosing tablet,” clearly shows any areas that have not been brushed well, thus indicating to the brusher the areas that need more attention (Sapon-Shevin, 1996).

Objections to inclusion are frequently formulated as follows:

If you try to include a child like Marco, the school environment will have to be examined… children can be very cruel.
If you try to include a child like Terry, the curriculum will have to be rethought… much of what is taught is not actually relevant to his life and experiences.
If you try to include a girl like Carissa, the pedagogy will have to be rethought… explanations for the whole class are not useful for her to learn.
If a child like Patrick is to be included, teachers will need more training and support… they are not really qualified or prepared.

The author’s response to these objections is “yes, yes, yes, and yes,” paying attention to the school and classroom environment, the curriculum, pedagogy, and teacher training and support are key for inclusion to be successful. And these are measures that should be taken regularly for ALL students. But sometimes the shortcomings, limitations, and errors in how “the school is built” are only discovered when there is a dramatic and insurmountable discrepancy between “the school as it is” and the needs of a specific student. The student being “included” can thus become the “revealing pill” of the classroom or school, by clearly showing those areas that require more work. Unfortunately, instead of thanking the student or parents for this golden opportunity to examine and improve current practices, schools often seek to exclude or segregate the student who is “different” to get rid of the challenge presented to them.

The objections to inclusion cited above typically arise with respect to students with disabilities, but they also apply to students with “other differences.” School is a hostile place for students identified as “queer,” so attempts are made to regulate student behavior to make the difference disappear, or the student is advised to transfer to a school more suited to their needs; it is also known that the usual curriculum is not of cultural interest to students of color, so they are offered the option to attend a school focused on diversity. These “solutions” have in common that they leave intact (and unimproved) the practices, policies, and procedures currently carried out in classrooms and schools, not to mention the limited and harmful messages about diversity and inclusion that such “solutions” exemplify as a model.

However, there is good news. Although the changes needed to make schools fully and genuinely inclusive are enormous, this is not a zero-sum game. That is, improving the school for a child with Asperger’s syndrome, who has limited social skills and needs friends, will not make it worse for other children; in fact, practices and changes that benefit many more students may be introduced. Applying a more culturally meaningful pedagogy, even if the origin of this initiative is the large number of Hispanic students in the classroom, will result in a richer and more complete curriculum for all. Adaptations originally made for “marginalized” students are also beneficial for other students. Demanding that all students be “equal,” that is, integrated, deprives everyone of the benefits and strengths that children and educators develop by supporting all students. Although some highly competent mainstream students are able to survive, and even succeed in environments that do not recognize or positively address difference, those are not ideal classrooms for anyone. Good inclusive education is quality education (Lawrence-Brown & Sapon-Shevin, 2013; Sapon-Shevin, 2007; Sapon-Shevin, 2010).

This article details the four main obstacles to the implementation of fully inclusive education and how each of them must be overcome to make inclusion more than just a slogan:

The concept of “normality,” as well as the lack of cooperation between the inclusion movement and other liberation or diversity movements.
School environments and cultures hostile to diversity and that do not support the inclusion of all students.
A very restrictive conception of the curriculum and limited forms of pedagogy, lack of differentiation, corporate control of education, greater privatization of schools, and exams in which students risk their future.
Teacher training that does not support inclusive education.

2. Conceptions of diversity and inclusion: the union of liberation movements

The way in which what is normal and what is “abnormal” is defined will affect the concept of human variability; strongly opposing the medical model in which disability and difference are considered defects to be “cured” or eliminated, as well as exploring multiple, positive, and more accepting responses to difference, are measures of vital importance. Likewise, the union of the full inclusion movement with other attempts to deconstruct “normality” and thus broaden the notion of diversity is crucial.

The way “normality” is used to judge and control the behavior of others is often restrictive, and at times, oppressive. To unravel the concept of normality, it is important to understand the following:

Normality is a social construct; it does not have specific or universal limits or definitions.
People use the concept of “normality” to regulate others’ behavior and control variation.
Human beings are multifaceted; they exist and act on various continuums.
Cultural differences, whether large or small, radically affect the definition of what is considered “normal”.
The attitude towards “difference” is usually the big problem, rarely the differences themselves.
Some responses to diversity are positive and enriching, others can be dangerous and even deadly.
Expanding the notions of “normality” and “variation” will enrich personal life, strengthen relationships with others, and improve the community in which one lives. Diversity is not a “problem” to be solved, but a natural and enriching facet of human existence.

In the chapter titled “Beyond Benevolence: Friendship and the Politics of Help” [“Más allá de la benevolencia: la amistad y las políticas de ayuda”], Emma Van Der Klift and Norman Kunc (1994) created a table that specifies the different ways people respond to differences [a la izquierda] and the consequences of that response [a la derecha]:

MARGINALIZATION	Segregation Avoidance Aggression
REFORMATION	Integration Rehabilitation
TOLERANCE	Resignation Benevolence
ASSESSMENT (Diversity as the norm)	Equal worth Mutual benefit Belonging

Table 1: Responses to Difference (Van Der Klift and Norman Kunc, 1994)

The authors explain:

In this society there is only one “correct” way to be and all its members feel, on occasion, compared and judged according to a strict and unfair standard: white, able-bodied, young, intelligent, successful, attractive, thin, and preferably male. Normality is a thin bell curve that does not allow deviations without social repercussions. Even those within the curve’s limits feel pressure to conform to the center, while those who fall outside are seen not only as deviant, but as deficient.

It is curious that this standard of normality includes so few members of society. Diversity, not uniformity, is the reality of society, as after all, the human community consists of great variability: race, sex, language, color, religion, abilities, and sexual orientation. People of color constitute the majority of the world’s population. Women make up 51% of the global population. Most people do not live in abundance (Van Der Klift and Kunc, 1994: 396).

The consequences of how difference is conceived can go beyond the previously mentioned “marginalization” response. The Anti-Defamation League (ADL), an American organization founded to combat antisemitism, racism, and bigotry, uses the Pyramid of Hate to show the degrees of intensity with which negative responses to difference have been carried out in the world.

Pyramid of Hate (Anti-Defamation League, 2003)

GENOCIDE: systematic and deliberate extermination of an entire people.
ACTS OF EXTREME VIOLENCE TOWARDS AN INDIVIDUAL: murder, rape, arson.
ACTS OF VIOLENCE: assault, terrorism, desecration, vandalism, threats.
ACTS OF DISCRIMINATION: harassment, social exclusion, employment discrimination, housing discrimination.
ACTS OF PREJUDICE AND INTOLERANCE: scapegoating, slander/insults, ridicule, social avoidance, dehumanization.
SUBTLY BIASED ACTS: generalizations, jokes, rumors, remarks, lack of sensitivity, acceptance of negative information, concealment of positive information, expression of feelings only with like-minded people.

The Pyramid of Hate is a graphic representation that describes different responses to diversity, whether regarding race, language, height, religion, or sexual orientation. Furthermore, it compels reflection on where one learns to respond in a certain way to difference and to consider the consequences of that education, or the absence thereof. In this model, it can be clearly seen that what may initially seem like “innocent” behavior (exclusion, jokes, insults) can quickly escalate. Today’s school bullying can become tomorrow’s hate crime. Recent attention to the spate of suicides due to school bullying has provided numerous proofs of the deadly consequences of intolerance and hatred towards those perceived as different.

Not all marginalized groups have been oppressed by the same methods, in the same eras, or with the same intensity, but each and every one has been treated unfairly and can mutually benefit from cooperation on civil rights and social justice.

When examining the history of oppression and discrimination against different groups over time, similarities can be found in the “appearance” of discrimination.

Stereotypes: generalizations are made about the group, and assumptions are made about individuals based on that opinion. Some typical examples include the ideas that Black men are dangerous, Chinese people are good at Math, women don’t work as mechanics, and people with disabilities are not sexual beings.

Stigmatizing or applying restrictive labels: people in marginalized and oppressed groups often suffer labels (single words) that are generally negative and harmful, such as “faggot”, “fatso”, “retard”, “slut”, “wetback”.

Limited or distorted representation: people in different categories are often either invisible (in the media, for example), or represented in an extremely limited or harmful way. Two examples: product advertisements rarely include people who are not thin and attractive; children’s books almost never include people of different religions than Catholicism in their stories.

Segregation: based on some real or attributed characteristic, someone is often forced or encouraged to participate in “special” schooling, employment, or recreation.

Inequality of opportunities and loss of rights: denial of opportunities based on a person’s identity: homosexual individuals losing custody of their adopted children upon the death of their partner, women being barred from participating in certain sports, persons with disabilities being denied access to higher education.

When a young person suffered aggression and bullying at school for being “gay” (although he had never actually admitted to that label), the response was to simply urge him to “straighten up,” not get so involved in the arts, and not be so kind and “soft,” thereby solving the problem. The principal was reluctant to examine the underlying homophobia in the school culture and to punish the students who had tied the young person up in a volleyball net and put him in a trash can. The responsibility for change had fallen on the student who was being bullied. The existence of programs known as “conversion therapy” or “reparative therapy,” which can include electroshock treatment, and designed to “reprogram” or cure (understood as embracing heterosexuality) individuals who identify as gay, lesbian, or transgender, is strong evidence of how deeply rooted oppression is and where it leads.

Some parents decide to subject their children with Down syndrome to cosmetic surgery to change their facial features, based on the argument that since society discriminates against people with this disability, surgery increases their opportunities and favors their future success, as it reduces the possibility of them being identified as people with Down syndrome. While a change in attitude is a very slow and tedious job, and although it must be assumed that parents make this decision thinking about their children’s interests, it is worrying that they intend to “fix” the object of mistreatment instead of trying to correct limited, dangerous, and harmful responses, both their own and those of others.

But despite the commonalities of the different forms of oppression, such as racism, sexism, homophobia, discrimination against people with disabilities, classism, and others, there are also notable differences. The identities and characteristics that cause oppression vary in visibility, contexts, duration, and history. Learning to be a good ally to oppressed people requires understanding the distinctions and the certainty that support and activism to eliminate discrimination can vary depending on the case, that is, one should not assume that the way one intervenes in favor of a person with a physical disability will be a good model when advocating for a member of a religious minority.

Nevertheless, different marginalized groups may share a vision of a strong educational system based on the view that human difference is a characteristic to be valued rather than a deficit. Ball and Harry (1993) describe the goal of multicultural and social reconstructionist education: “…to reform the school curriculum so that all students experience social equity, cultural pluralism, and success… and that students are prepared to undertake political analysis of inequity within and outside of school and to use collective social action to remedy inequity” (p.432).

Unfortunately, liberation and civil rights movements aimed at questioning oppression and discrimination against a particular group have not always included everyone nor have they known how to recognize the ways in which different oppressions relate to each other. The Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s in the United States fought against homophobia at the time, but Martin Luther King Jr. distanced himself from Bayard Rustin, a homosexual who had played a very active role as a speechwriter and organizer. The women’s movement did not accept lesbians for fear of damaging its image and power. The disability organization ADAPTi did not want to include people with cognitive disabilities at first. Nor is it true that someone who has suffered oppression will automatically fight against any other oppression actively, with consideration and sensitivity.

Ferri (2010) warns that assuming coalition work is simple means failing to recognize the differences between struggles and that what is considered “success” can vary from one to another. He explains:

“Differences in political and economic power between potential allies must be admitted and considered. Finally, an objective must be set for mutual benefit whereby both parties benefit from the alliance. For the coalition to be sustainable, both parties must share a self-interest” (p.147-148).

How to become a better ally? What hinders alliances? How do structural limitations affect alliances? Who benefits from the separation of allies? For several years, Robin Smith and Mara Sapon-Shevinii have organized a workshop where, first, participants are asked to describe an occasion when they either (1) interrupted or attempted to interrupt some form of oppression, or (2) failed to interrupt an oppressive behavior or language. After participants have shared their response with the rest, a table is created with the following questions: if you tried to interrupt oppressive behavior, what made it possible? If you did not try to interrupt such behavior, what prevented you?

A typical list of responses is shown below:

It made intervention possible

To experience strong feelings.
To be in a position of power.
To have a relationship with the person.
To know what to say. To have “data” to help.
Having practiced for it.
To affect on a personal level.
To fulfill the role as a teacher or adult.

Hindered the intervention

Experience strong feelings.
Lack power in the situation.
Having a relationship with the person.
Not knowing what to say.
Knowing it was wrong, but not having enough information.
Tiredness/giving up.
Affect on a personal level.
Fear of reprisals, job loss, security.

The debates that follow the activity usually focus on how the capacity to be good allies is affected by the absence of knowledge, that is, moments when one does not know how to recognize harm and, therefore, it goes unnoticed, and the lack of strategies to challenge oppression. It is always interesting that having a personal relationship sometimes facilitates intervention against oppression (“I couldn’t listen to that kind of language coming from my best friend”), while other times it hinders it (“Since he is my uncle, I didn’t want to say anything”). Similarly, being part of the “oppressed” group sometimes allows for vehement expression, as there is more information and personal interests at stake, but it can also block the affected person and reduce the effectiveness of the intervention.

In addition to needing more “courage” to become “actors” rather than “spectators,” a lack of basic knowledge also plays a role. If you are not familiar with African American culture, for example, you might not anticipate that a reception with only cheesecake might be a problem for the large number of African Americans who are lactose intolerant. For a heterosexual person, an invitation to a party that says “For you and your wife” will not be offensive. The ability to challenge behaviors and policies lies in knowledge of different population groups. A life of segregation and interaction with a small segment of the population diminishes the ability to form effective alliances, act with consideration, and be well-informed. This is another strong argument for the importance of inclusive education: developing intelligence in matters of diversity and increasing the chances of establishing personal connections with mistreated people.

There are some common needs for achieving a fully inclusive education with all forms of difference. Recognizing these similarities will lead to collaborative advocacy and help create a more just world.

Problem

Categories and identities considered “real”, immutable, and permanent.
Considering differences as deficits, problems, or characteristics that need to be changed.
Strong reliance on stereotypes, generalizations, and conjectures about the “other”.
Using differences as a justification for transfer to special services and differential treatment.
Justice seen as classifying the “correct” person into the correct groups or categories, the belief that certain students deserve or need a different education.
Considering assessment procedures fair and the ability to justify segregation and differentiation based on labels.
The justification of segregated practices based on the differentiated “needs” of individuals.
Trust in the voice, experience, and expertise of professionals outside the group subject to discrimination.
Defining “success” as assimilation, elimination of differences, and ordinary expectations and experiences.

What would help?

Understanding the social construction of differences, re-examining the idea of “normal” or “normative” when describing a person.
Conducting a conscious and critical analysis of different types of “differences”: those that should be celebrated, those that should be accepted, and those that perhaps should be changed or resolved (with the express desire and collaboration of the person in question).
Visualize groups but also individuals, avoid over-generalization of collectives, stereotypes, and assumptions.
See differences as an opportunity for careful analysis and to react in a broader context.
A critical examination of access to educational opportunities and how these intersect with identities, power, and privileges, as well as prevailing social and cultural expectations and norms.
Critique of evaluation policies, rejection of standardized and decisive tests to determine future access to education, learning opportunities.
Ability to differentiate between forced segregation and voluntary differentiation.
Understanding the importance of voice and autobiography, listening to personal stories, knowing that people with a certain label are the most qualified to speak about their own lives and futures. Paying serious attention to issues of free will and choice, control and power.
Focus on advocacy and self-advocacy, not on “cure,” recognizing the need to allow others to take control of their own lives, communities, and destinies.

The realization of a just and equitable society involves more than just schools, but schools are important fronts for struggle and reform. Real and lasting change will only begin with the recognition of the common human nature of all people. Achieving fully inclusive education will not be possible unless personal connections are made between different kinds of people, liberation movements recognize the extent to which they intersect and depend on each other, and we learn to be better allies to differences.

3. Changing school environments and cultures

Inclusive education requires special attention to creating a warm and welcoming community for all students in the classroom and school. The key components for creating such a welcoming community are six: 1) a classroom marked by cooperation rather than competition; 2) the inclusion of all students, so no one has to “earn” their way into the community; 3) an environment where differences are openly valued and discussed; 4) a place where each person’s integrity is valued, meaning each person is valued as a whole and in their multiple identities; 5) an environment that fosters the courage to challenge oppression and exclusion; and 6) a setting where not only physical safety is offered, but also emotional and relational safety for all members, who feel secure within the community to which they belong (Sapon-Shevin, 2007, 2010). In such a culture, differences are openly addressed and discussed, and exclusion and marginalization have no place. Combating racism, homophobia, classism, sexism, religious oppression, language privilege, discrimination against persons with disabilities, and other forms of discrimination is considered essential learning for everyone.

A few years ago, the author served as an expert witness in a due process hearing for a young man we will call John. John is 12 years old, loves mysteries, is an exceptional golfer… and has Down syndrome. John had received a lot of support in the elementary school he attended, but when he reached sixth grade, it was withdrawn, and he was urged to adapt to the performance of other students his age. Despite the great effort made by him and his family, John could not reach “the grade level.” Teachers kept failing him, and as a result, his performance plummeted. The school district tried to transfer him to another center that had a program for students with disabilities, but his parents refused, as they preferred John to stay in his lifelong school, which he attended with his brother and neighbors. The struggle for John’s educational placement reached a stalemate and ended in a court hearing.

The expert witness spent time with John, went golfing with him, and met his family. Another colleague who also worked on the case went to John’s school and observed the following scene in the cafeteria.

John correctly queued for lunch, getting his food and drink. He approached a table of classmates and asked if he could sit there, and they replied “no,” the seat was taken. He tried another table and was similarly rebuffed. He found a third table, placed his tray down, remembered he had forgotten his straw, and returned to the lunch line. When he returned to the table where he had left his food, his tray had been moved.

The foregoing is a descriptive account of what happened. The interpretations, however, were radically different. After hearing this story, the hearing officer unilaterally declared: “this proves that John cannot be included in the sixth grade.” The expert, as a professional with extensive experience in preparatory education, considered the interaction to be, in fact, very revealing, but with a very different conclusion. She thought that what had been described were worrying signs of latent hostility in the school environment, and that the school environment definitely needed attention. The situation said nothing about John’s ability to be part of the class. Moreover, it was unlikely that the sixth-grade students would be unpleasant and exclusionary towards John, but cordial and respectful towards the overweight girl, the boy with severe acne, the student from Vietnam who has limited English proficiency, or the student with two mothers. Furthermore, changing John’s school would not “fix” this school environment at all; on the contrary, it would leave very censurable behavior completely unchecked.

With reference to the metaphor of the “revealing pill,” in this story, John perfectly served that function at the school, making it very clear that there was a lot of work to be done to make the school inclusive and tolerant of all students.

As indicated in the previous section, the creation of welcoming and tolerant school environments is not a zero-sum game. That is, any change made to benefit John’s acceptance in the school’s social environment will also improve the situation of the student who struggles to communicate or who is smaller, shorter, less athletic, or does not fit the prototype or behavior of their sex.

In recent years, increasing attention has been paid to problems in the school environment in general and bullying in particular. Although not all marginalized and excluded students commit suicide or end up starring in a school shooting, enough situations of this type have occurred to generate serious interest in what students experience at school outside the academic curriculum. Furthermore, it is known that it is very difficult for students to perform academically if they are afraid or scared, worried, or insecure about their position or treatment in the school environment.

Technological advances have worsened school bullying. The main settings for this very negative behavior are the restrooms, the cafeteria, the bus, recess, and the hallways, that is, all those places with little supervision or limited adult presence. But nowadays, school bullying can occur (and does occur) in cyberspace through text messages, Facebook pages, websites, and email, many of which allow students to torment and harass their classmates without ever seeing their faces or, sometimes, without being identified or discovered. When teachers say “don’t let me catch you bothering José ever again,” students usually obey that request exactly: to engage in negative interpersonal social behavior in such a way that they are, in fact, not “caught.”

Until problems in the school and classroom environment are seriously addressed, inclusion is unlikely to be anything more than a mere administrative arrangement. Simply placing bodies in the same physical space does not guarantee positive interaction, nor support among students, nor feelings of welcome and belonging.

Once again, unfortunate separations also occur between classroom environment activities designed for “disabilities” and those that address more general topics; these efforts need to be unified coherently and cohesively.

This can be illustrated with a story. After a workshop on teaching social skills, a third-grade teacher approached the author and recounted the following anecdote. She had a very diverse class that included some students from the “gifted” program and one student (Maria) with Down syndrome. The teacher wanted help on “what to do” regarding the following incident: she was returning a paper to Maria, warmly praising the incredible work she had done on the test and how much she had improved compared to her previous attempt when one of the gifted students walked by, overheard the constructive praise for Maria, and said dismissively, “big deal, I got a hundred.”

The teacher was asking what she should explain about Down syndrome to the child. Surely, she did not expect the answer to be “nothing,” and that is why it surprised her. This situation does not require an explanation of chromosomal differences, but rather a more basic and generic lesson on how to treat other human beings. In other words, when someone has achieved something, you should be happy for that person and not belittle their accomplishment, even if that same accomplishment is not a big deal to yourself. Period. The lesson’s topic is being a good human being, not “how to treat people with Down syndrome.”

Personality development, multicultural education, and disability awareness programs must be unified into classes, policies, and practices that support difference. These programs cannot simply be added to competitive classrooms where students are distinguished by high or low grades, teams compete against each other, or radically different educational activities and opportunities are offered based on perceived intelligence or ability. The culture of the classroom and school must be re-examined, and a more fundamental question asked about what is taught about difference and how it is responded to:

How do students learn about differences, and what language are they provided with to describe themselves and their peers?
What happens in cases of exclusion in the classroom? Are these issues discussed with students, or are they swept under the rug due to “lack of time” or the teaching staff’s inability to address these problems?
What happens to those students who are struggling, either academically or socially? What kinds of support, teaching, and peer advocacy are part of the school program?

These questions clearly transcend a particular type of difference and, consequently, imply broad attention to the multiple forms of marginalization and exclusion.

4. Curriculum and pedagogical frameworks

A rigid and closed curriculum and pedagogy, which are also framed and evaluated through standardized and decisive exams, lead to the inevitable failure of a large number of students and for differences to become a burden. In the United States, the policy known as No Child Left Behind (translated into Spanish as Que ningún niño se quede atrás) evaluated student (and teacher) success so restrictively that, in fact, many students were literally and figuratively left “behind.” Teachers, whose employment and raises depended on their students’ performance on standardized state exams, were therefore discouraged from attending to each child individually, and their ingenuity for planning and teaching students was drastically reduced. Furthermore, this rigid and even punitive evaluation made them reluctant to accept students whose educational experiences or challenges would be considered a reflection of their professional abilities.

A recent book, Educational Courage: Resisting the Ambush of Public Education (Shniedewind & Sapon-Shevin, 2012), details how educational policies controlled and directed by large corporations and markets are detrimental to students and teachers. Perhaps one of the most damaging characteristics of these “reforms” is that they reduce teachers’ flexibility to respond to the individual needs of students, whether these needs stem from racial differences, language proficiency, or others. Similarly, it is no longer local communities that make decisions regarding public education, but rather individuals who, generally, have little or no experience with the families and students in schools, who standardize them.

The curriculum of an inclusive environment is rich, interactive, sensitive to multiple intelligences, and has many points of access. A well-designed curriculum is based on knowing the intended students in all their complexity and on the certainty that the content taught is meaningful and of cultural interest to all. Moving away from deficit-based reading and language models due to their rigidity and their focus on standard abilities, for example, towards more balanced language arts teaching approaches that include real literature, will allow students to work at different skill levels. The dinosaur unit could include books and different types of printed material about these animals, as well as non-printed materials, music, and movement activities. The teacher of an inclusive class asks: “Why would I want 25 copies of the same textbook?”, and instead acquires numerous different materials such as books, DVDs, songs, posters, computer programs, and videos, which different students can access.

If the design is restrictive, sooner or later, the class will have to be adapted or updated, or some students will have to be excluded, whereas in an inclusive initial design all students will find their “place” in learning. For example, when a fifth-grade teacher designed a unit on “Living Green,” students became involved at different levels: LaDonna researched carbon footprints and explained the information to the class; Matthew and Rosaria led a school recycling program that required them to make social contact (and thus practice their social skills) with other students and teachers; Carlos, who uses a voice-activated computer, created an “informercial” about saving the planet and presented it to several groups; three students developed the advertising campaign and used their math skills to sell ad space in the school newspaper to local businesses.

The development of more interactive and participatory curricular projects, in turn, provides a method of cooperative learning, the inclusion of students’ work at various levels, and brings several strengths and stories to the classroom.

Pedagogy

Similarly, all students benefit from instruction that is not designed solely for students who learn best by listening, speaking, reading, or writing. In the book Joyful Learning: Active and Collaborative Learning in Inclusive Classrooms, Udvari-Solner and Kluth (2007) share a set of strategies that can be applied to a wide range of students. They are not identified as “teaching strategies for students with disabilities” but simply as quality teaching. Most inclusive strategies have in common that they are engaging, interactive, constructivist (they draw on students’ prior knowledge), and also foster and promote peer support.

When students collaborate, they not only bring their individual experiences, cultures, and strengths to their peers’ learning, but they are also in a position to actively teach and support each other. Many teachers report that by implementing more interactive and hands-on pedagogy in their classes, many students benefited, not just the student with a disability.

5. Inclusive teacher training

For inclusive education to become a reality, teachers must acquire the necessary attitude, capacity, and knowledge to teach all students. Traditional teacher training still retains its duality, meaning separate paths for teachers of “normal” students and those of “special education,” and this separation is problematic for everyone. As previously stated, the need to reconceptualize difference must be accompanied by changes in how teachers are trained.

Syracuse University was the first university in the United States to train teachers for inclusive education. In fact, it is not possible to obtain a teaching degree “only” in regular education, as all teachers are prepared for inclusion and graduate from the program with a dual certification: regular and special education teacher. Currently, there are many teacher training programs in the United States that share this inclusive philosophy and program design.

However, preparation for inclusive teaching cannot be limited to simply merging the training of general education and special education teachers. It must also involve questioning how teachers are prepared for any type of diversity. Given the similarities between the problems associated with restrictive, punitive, and discriminatory responses to disability and other marginalizing differences, it is counterproductive that “disability studies” and “multicultural education” remain largely independent in most teacher training programs.

In the introduction to a special issue of the Journal of Teacher Education titled Unsettling Conversations: Diversity and Disability in Teacher Education, Pugach, Blanton, and Florian (2012) point out that “given the antiquity of the rhetoric about teacher education for diversity, there has been very little discussion of the role of special education within a larger discourse of race, class, and culture diversity” (p. 235). In fact, the more general discourses on “multicultural education” and “special education” have remained strangely and significantly disconnected.

In both areas, there is a long history of semi-inclusion or marginalization within teacher education programs. Disability topics are offered (if offered at all) to primary school teachers in a course called “Introduction to Exceptionality” or “Short Course on Special Education.” This course often consists of memorizing a list of disabilities, how to identify them, and how to refer them to “that other place” that is more appropriate. There is rarely a political analysis of special education, and it is infrequently integrated into the work or assignments of other courses.

Similarly, multicultural education is often relegated to a separate course on “Multicultural Education” or “Teaching in a Diverse Society” that is not usually included in the rest of the teacher training program. In many cases, this course consists of a list of different racial and ethnic groups and their contributions to society with some notes on how to teach each group correctly. It is rarely a political analysis of education and how all aspects of it could be framed sociopolitically (Sapon-Shevin and Zollers, 1999).

Although re-examining how these two issues are addressed is important, they must be reviewed with a critical eye or the risk will be run of falling into false comparisons and distinctions, or into confusion between the two areas. The confusion of race with disability, for example, is extremely problematic. There is a large body of testimony and evidence demonstrating that students of color are repeatedly and routinely referred to special education, a fact that should raise alarms about racial prejudice, poverty, and other societal problems, rather than generating conjectures about racial inferiority or causality (Ferri and Connor, 2005; 2006). The issue that the traditional concept of disability may be confused with race is valid in social and economic systems built on the assumption of the inferiority of non-whites (and of persons with disabilities), as well as in an education system that often misidentifies students of color as disabled (Ball and Harry, 1993). It is vitally important for special educators to confront the intersection of special education with race, class, and culture, which in turn includes the question of how the misinterpretation of non-dominant cultural values and practices contributes to the oppression of the respective non-dominant groups, even if this is done unintentionally (Pugach and Seidl, 1998).

In a chapter titled “Dialogue We’ve yet to have: race and disability studies,” Ferri (2010) analyzes the challenge and potential benefits of broadening the intersection between research on the oppression of people with disabilities and racism. Similarly, Erevelles, Kanga, and Middleton (2006) write that experts in “critical race theory and disability studies have rarely explored the critical connections between these two historically disenfranchised groups in educational contexts” (p. 77).

What is the relationship between broader themes of diversity and disability? What would be learned from observing the intersections between different identity themes and how they are addressed in schools? Pugach, Blanton, and Florian (2012) ask:

How can we work together to promote a more complete vision of diversity, one that does not simply add “disability” to a long list of social markers of identity, but rather works from the assumption (or rather the actual fact) that the children and young people for whom teachers are being trained do not have just one diverse identity, but multiple different identities that interact and nest within each other in different and often complex ways? (p. 235).

6. To conclude

Inclusion is not simply an organizational structure, but rather a commitment to making classrooms, schools, and the world places where all human beings are valued and welcomed, and where diversity is considered enriching and positive. Overcoming those more limited interpretations of inclusion will involve shedding current societal beliefs about difference and human relationships. Until every human being is truly valued, attempts to implement inclusive school practices will be mere patches awaiting real change. There is much to gain, and although the undertaking may seem overwhelming, a coherent vision, unconditional support, and transparent communication will lead everyone’s efforts to success.

References

Anti-Defamation League. Cited as www.adl.org/education/courttv/pyramid_of_hate.pdf
Ball, E. and Harry, B. (1993). Multi-cultural education and special education: Intersections and divergencies. Educational Forum, 57 (4), 430-437.
Connor, D.J. and Ferri, B.A. (2007). The conflict within: Resistance to inclusion and other paradoxes in special education. Disability & Society, 22 (1), 63-77.
Erevelles, N., Kanga, A. and Middleton, R. (2006). How does it feel to be a problem? Race, disability, and exclusion in educational policy. In E. Brantlinger (Ed.). Who benefits from special education? Remediating [fixing] other people’s children (pp. 77–99). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum.
Ferri, B.A. (2010). A dialogue we’ve yet to have: Race and disability studies. in C. Dudley-Marling and A. Gurn. The Myth of the Normal Curve (Ch.10). New York: Peter Lang.
Ferri, B.A. and Connor, D.J. (2005). Tools of exclusion: Race, disability and (re)segregated Education. Teachers College Record. 107 (3), 453-474.
Ferri, B.A. and Connor, D.J. (2006). Reading resistance: Discourses of exclusion in desegregation and inclusion debates. New York: Peter Lang.
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Pugach, M. and Seidl, B. (1998). Responsible linkages between diversity and disability: A challenge for special education. Teacher Education and Special Education, 21 (4),
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Sapon-Shevin, M. (1996). Full inclusion as disclosing tablet: Revealing the flaws in our general education system. Theory into Practice, 35 (1), 35-41.
Sapon-Shevin, M. (2007). Widening the circle: The power of inclusive classrooms. Boston: a Beacon Press.
Sapon-Shevin, M. (2010). Because we can change the world: A practical guide to building cooperative, inclusive classroom communities. Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin Press.
Sapon-Shevin, M. and Zollers, N. (1999). Multicultural and disability agendas in teacher education: Preparing teachers for diversity. International Journal of Leadership in Education Theory and Practice, 2 (3). July-Sept.
Schniedewind, N. and Sapon-Shevin, M. (2012). Educational courage: Resisting the ambush of public education. Boston: Beacon Press.
Udvari-Solner, A. and Kluth, P. (2007). Joyful Learning: Active and Collaborative Learning in Inclusive Classrooms. Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin Press.
Van der Klift, E. and Kunc, N. (1994). Beyond benevolence: Friendship and the politics of help. In J. Thousand, R. Villa, A. Nevin (Eds.). Creativity and collaborative learning: A practical guide to empowering students and teachers. Baltimore: Paul Brookes, 391-401.

Notes

Translation Note: ADAPT is a national community that organizes disabled people’s rights activists to engage in nonviolent direct action, including civil disobedience, in order to secure the civil and human rights of disabled people so that they may live in freedom.
Unpublished document. Smith, R.M. & Sapon-Shevin, M. Challenging Oppressive Behavior: Interrupting Racism, Ableism and Homophobia (workshops presented at the American Educational Research Association and TASH, 2001-present). Seewww.glsen.org.
Translation note: It is the first year of middle school or high school, which comprises grades six, seven, and eight, and students start at 11 years old.