How To Not Lose Your Lucy: Seven Guiding Principles for Day Schools

Written by Meredith Polsky, this post originally appeared on The Jewish Week blog The New Normal.

Since I shared on this blog my family’s decision to withdraw our daughter Lucy from the local Jewish day school, I have been inundated with comments, Facebook posts, emails and phone calls. The majority of these have been parents sharing their own stories about why their child could not receive a Jewish education and reliving that heartbreak, whether it was last year or 20 years ago.

There were one or two comments about a Jewish day school getting it right – either because their child benefited from a special needs program within the school, or because the school utilized their resources effectively in order to teach different kinds of learners. Each and every comment gave me something new to think about, and I truly appreciate that.

Two emails stood out above all the others, though, and those were from professionals at two different Jewish day schools (one on the East coast, one in the Midwest). They both wrote, “How can I prevent this from happening at my school?”

Their communities are lucky to have them. Asking that question is the first step. In my effort to answer them, I hope I can shed some light on their question for Jewish day schools nationwide. What I hope you’ll understand when you’ve come to the end is that special education is just really good education.

SEVEN GUIDING PRINCIPLES (That Don’t Cost Anything) FOR JEWISH DAY SCHOOLS:

1. Communicate. Start conversations with parents by acknowledging that you are not going to get everything right every time, but that you are committed to working with the family, listening to their thoughts and having productive and ongoing discussions to figure out together what is best for the child. Parents are not demanding perfection, but they are respectful dialogue in their Jewish educational space.

2. Examine your school’s culture. Don’t get fooled into thinking that one person can make an entire school inclusive. Hiring a learning specialist or a director of educational support or a social worker is fantastic. These are experts I hope every Jewish day school will one day have in their midst. But a family’s experience cannot rest in the hands of these people alone. The notion that every student is valuable, regardless of strengths and weaknesses, must get “buy in” from administrators, teachers and other specialists.

3. Communicate. Until proven otherwise, assume that a parent knows their child best. Do not make assumptions based on what happens in the classroom. Relay to the parents what you are seeing, without diagnosing, and remind them that the goal is to help their child reach their individual potential. Plan out when and how you will communicate next, and write down what steps you have each agreed to in the interim. Be accountable.

4. Focus professional development on differentiated instruction and multiple intelligences. It can no longer be disputed that different people learn in different ways – it is a rare individual who learns equally well in every different modality. Your classrooms will not only become better suited for students with special learning needs, they will become more dynamic, better learning environments for every student.

5. Communicate. Share with your parent body what your faculty will be learning in professional development. Whether your day focuses on positive behavior supports, differentiated instruction, mental health in children, creating a culture of respect, examining the math curriculum with an eye towards multi-modal instruction – whatever the topic might be, share it! Teachers are learners, too, and parents will be thrilled to know that there are “works in progress.” That knowledge can create more open lines of communication between educators and parents, and better accentuate the values of your school.

6. Be creative with your resources. Remember that question on your application forms where parents need to write their profession? Print out that column and make a list of every special education teacher, occupational therapist, speech pathologist, social worker, psychologist, psychiatrist and any other person in a related field. Convene them as a group, or meet with them individually. Let them talk to you about what your school is doing right when it comes to their particular knowledge base, and how the school can improve. Let them help you navigate the process of receiving public supports in private school education. In many cases, these individuals will provide you with some pro-bono support. Have them sit in a classroom and consult with the teacher afterwards. A few small suggestions from a person with a different lens go a long way.

7. Communicate. Understand that parents of children with any type of special learning need, mental health issue or developmental delay are most likely in some degree of turmoil. It is not easy to parent a child with challenges, or one who deviates from what most describe as the “norm.”  Understand the role you play as an educator in being that parent’s ally, in giving them room to feel frustrated, upset or overwhelmed. Understand that they will only hear you if they feel heard first. Don’t give up on a parent because they are challenging you, or because you disagree with them. Stick with them through this journey. You, the parent and the child will all reap the benefits.

Meredith Englander Polsky co-founded Matan in the year 2000 and currently serves as the Director of Training and Advocacy. She holds graduate degrees in Special Education and Clinical Social work and, in 2001, was one of eight national recipients of the first fellowships awarded by Joshua Venture: A Fellowship for Jewish Social Entrepreneurs. She currently resides in Gaithersburg, Maryland with her husband and three children.

For Activist Who Founded Matan, A School’s Many Failings Hit Close To Home

Written by Meredith Englander Polsky, this post originally appeared on The Jewish Week’s The New Normal: Blogging Disability, May 24, 2013.

In 19 days, my daughter will complete her last year of Jewish day school. I had many visions in my mind for this moment: Seeing her in a cap and gown with friends she’s known since kindergarten; finding the picture of her eating ice cream with a little boy in first grade and placing it next to their prom picture; feeling pride that although we made sacrifices, my husband and I provided a solid Jewish education to our child.

And some of those visions may have become reality, if not for the fact that Lucy will turn 7 just before her last day at Jewish day school. She is completing first grade, not 12th. So she will leave unceremoniously and when she looks back she’ll know she spent two years in day school and moved on. And to be honest, I’m ambivalent: I’m disappointed, but I can’t wait for Lucy to be done there.

This might be surprising to those of you who know from my previous post that I started Matan, an organization which strives to provide a Jewish education for every child. I have been in the field of Jewish Special Education for 15 years.

Over those years, I have received feedback that I should say more about my personal connection to this issue. The truth is, though, I started Matan long before I had children of my own and I’ve always taken pride in that. I wasn’t passionate about Jewish inclusion because of my own personal experiences; I was passionate about it because it was the right thing to be passionate about. It still shocks me that there is not more outrage that up to 200,000 Jewish children with special needs are simply excluded from Jewish education.

But, as it turns out, May is Mental Health Awareness Month and I find myself with something to say. By the time Lucy was 3, she was diagnosed with Selective Mutism, a relatively rare manifestation of a social anxiety disorder in which a child is physically unable to speak outside of his/her home. The specifics of that require a whole separate blog post, but Lucy’s hard work and tenacity meant that she was fully speaking when she entered Jewish day school in kindergarten. Anxiety has remained a constant in her life, though, and I knew (or thought I knew) that the more information the school had about her mental health issues, the better they would be able to educate her and the more successful she would be.

At Matan, schools often point the finger at parents who, they say, don’t tell teachers what kids need. So I knew I wanted to be extremely open about Lucy’s struggles. Also, because of my line of work, I felt a responsibility to help the school understand anxiety and how it can impact performance in a classroom. After all, anxiety disorders are the most common form of psychopathology in children. Yet this school rebuffed my attempts to help.

If you had asked me two years ago if Lucy had special learning needs, I would have said no – and I’m confident that my training in this area offset the biases that come with being her mother. I would still say no. With a few simple strategies and a commitment to understanding the “whole child,” Lucy is not a difficult student to educate. But instead of seeing this whole child, the school saw a “complicated child”; maybe even “too complicated,” as the principal told us mid-way through first grade.

There are, of course, pockets of greatness at this school. But in our case, this was not enough to compensate for its many failures: to listen, to communicate, to follow through. In a word, poor customer service. (Did you read Erica Brown’s Jewish Week article on this topic?). So it was pretty easy for my husband and me to decide that Lucy’s day school career would end with first grade.

She will go into 2nd grade at an excellent public school in our neighborhood without an I.E.P. or a 504 plan, the official documents that lay out the educational goals and rights of a student with disabilities. Ironically, her anxiety is far less of a foreign concept in this public school than it was at her Jewish day school. The faculty and staff at her new school are more willing to listen. They recognize that parents know their children best. And they are trained to teach different children in different ways.

Now I understand the advocacy Matan does is more complicated than I thought. This Jewish school – and it’s not the only one – is behind the times not only in accommodating children with special needs, but in educational practice generally.

Why are Jewish schools behind public schools in these very important ways? I am realizing that for children like Lucy, and those with special learning needs, to be included in Jewish education, they must enter an environment in which educators have the training they need to see the strengths in every child, and understand that they are not defined by their special need – or any one thing, for that matter.

Isn’t that what we want for all of our children?

 

Learning Inclusion

Written by Jonathan Mooney

I’m on a plane today headed to Alberta, Canada to give a talk at an inclusion conference. Nothing new—been speaking at conferences like this for over ten years and, as someone who spent a lot of time in “special education,” I believe deeply in inclusion. I believe in inclusion because during my school purgatory days, there was very little that I found was special about special education except a very special form of irony when I was called a special snowflake and then told to sit my special snowflake rear down. So because I’ve been doing this so long and been giving so many talks, I rarely look at the specific title of any particular conference any more—there are only so many creative ways the words inclusion, education, disabilities, at-risk kids can be combined.

By chance though, this morning when I got on the plane, I actually read my itinerary and was struck by the title of the conference I was attending. It wasn’t just an inclusion conference; it was a “learning inclusion” conference. Now I know that for those out there who don’t spend all their free time reading conference titles, this may sound like the proverbial difference without distinction. But I think this is an important shift from which we can learn. Let me explain.

The inclusion movement came essentially from the special education, or more precisely, in reaction to special education. It was, and is, a simple but profound idea: students with disabilities shouldn’t be segregated in special classes. And they shouldn’t ride the short bus, which, in some places, is the government funded form of segregated transportation. For inclusion true believers like me, the experience of people with disabilities is a civil rights issue. We are not a group of sick or broken individuals in need of treatment but a marginalized minority group in need of inclusion and empowerment.

But what’s most interesting, at least from my vantage point, about this social movement is a bigger argument: people don’t have disabilities but experience disabilities in environments that aren’t accommodating or inclusive of the wide continuum of human differences. We are all temporally enabled learners who can be disabled by narrow, standardized learning environments, whether we have diagnoses or not. Learning inclusion is a call to create supportive and empowering learning environments — not for kids with learning disabilities, but all kids.

So my new friends in Alberta got it right on. Well done! Next time I’ll read my itinerary.

The First Step: How “Josh” Inspired the Creation of an Entire Organization

Written by Matan co-founder Meredith Englander Polsky, this post originally appeared in The Jewish Week’s blog, The New Normal: Blogging Disability, May 2, 2013.

“You don’t have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.” -Martin Luther King, Jr.

Seventeen years ago, I was working as a unit head at an overnight Jewish summer camp. As I got onto the bus to introduce myself and greet my new campers, I heard a little voice with a big personality call out, “Like I care!” I looked up and saw “Josh” for the first time and suspected that he would be my most challenging camper. In that instant, though, I knew instinctively that he would also be my favorite.

I was right on both counts. Josh had severe Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder and learning issues that impacted his relationships with other children in his bunk. Josh had a hard time discerning social cues and his hyperactive behavior interfered with the group dynamics of these 8-year old boys. All this, coupled with the fact that his teenage counselors quickly lost patience with him, meant that Josh and I spent a lot of time together and quickly developed a close bond. “Quickly” proved to be critical – because after 6 days of camp, Josh was sent home. The camp felt that they simply couldn’t accommodate his special needs; he was interfering too much with the overall functioning of the bunk and he required too much individual support from a unit head whose job was to oversee all of the campers and counselors.

That October, I called a friend of mine who was a teacher at the Jewish day school Josh attended and I eagerly asked how Josh was doing. “I don’t know,” he responded, “Josh was kicked out of school.”

I had just graduated from college and was unsure what my next steps would be — until that phone call. In an instant, I knew for certain that I needed to devote myself to enabling the Jewish community to be inclusive of children like Josh. Josh’s parents tried to give him the best of what Jewish camping and Jewish education had to offer – and they were rejected at every turn. I saw clearly that this had to change.

Four years later, I helped create Matan: For every child. For every community. The gift of Jewish learning, now a successful non-profit organization entering its 13th year. During the course of our work, Jewish education professionals often cite financial barriers and competing priorities. They discuss how daunting it is to consider including children with disabilities, and how it feels like an enormous undertaking. We encounter many well-intentioned professionals who don’t know where to start, so they don’t start anywhere.

We urge you to start. Don’t think about being everything to everyone right now. Think about one child whose life – and whose family’s life – you can change because you decided to take one step. Seventeen years ago, Matan was not even a thought. Now, the organization has trained thousands of Jewish educators, worked with hundreds of families and has had a significant impact on Jewish special education in North America. As a 21-year-old, I wasn’t thinking about the vastness of what lay ahead, or the challenges of developing a non-profit organization. I was thinking about one child. Because of Josh. I couldn’t think about the whole staircase, I only knew I had to take that first step.

Meredith Englander Polsky co-founded Matan in the year 2000 and currently serves as the Director of Training and Advocacy. She holds graduate degrees in Special Education and Clinical Social work and, in 2001, was one of eight national recipients of the first fellowships awarded by Joshua Venture: A Fellowship for Jewish Social Entrepreneurs. She currently resides in Gaithersburg, Maryland with her husband and three children.

Building Communities – Mental Health and Developmental Disabilities, in White Plains, NY

 

Building Communities: One Lecture at a Time - A synergistic offering to address special needs in the Westchester Jewish Community

THURSDAY, MAY 9, 2013

6:30 PM - Registration; 7:00 PM – Workshop

Westchester Jewish Community Services 845 North Broadway, White Plains (914) 761-0600

 

RSVP to: buildingcommunitieslectures@gmail.com

MENTAL HEALTH AND DEVELOPMENTAL DISABILITIES: The DNA Strand Concept

What do they look like?

• What are the most common mental health problems seen in individuals with developmental disabilities? • How do we differentiate between behaviors caused by the developmental disability and/or mental health issue?

What can we do about them?

• Services and programs

What to expect when seeking mental health counseling.

What is a mental health emergency?

• Tips on calming down a stressful situation • Who to call and what to expect

An interactive workshop with Patricia L Grossman, LCSW, Director and Norma Litman, LCSW, Program Supervisor Director, Outpatient Services for People with Developmental Disabilities Westchester Jewish Community Services

Patricia L. Grossman has been working in the field of developmental disabilities since 1991. She is an experienced clinician, program developer, and provides training and consultation to parents, families and providers. She is well recognized and respected within Westchester County and sits on several task forces and committees focused on providing the highest level of programs and services to individuals with special needs.

Norma Litman is an experienced clinician and trainer. Her work focuses on teaching how to manage challenging behaviors and crisis situations in home and in the community. She runs therapeutic social skills groups for young children. She has been trained in Advanced Parent Management Training by the Yale University Parenting Center and Child Conduct Clinic.

 

It Takes a Village: Symposium at UJA-Federation of New York

Final+Mental-Health-Conference

UJA-Federation of New York Himan Brown Charitable Trust Symposium Series

It Takes a Village: Promoting the Physical, Social, and Emotional Well-Being of Today’s Youth

Monday, May 13, 2013
8:30 a.m. – 5:00 p.m.

UJA-Federation of New York
Seventh-Floor Conference Center
130 East 59th Street
New York City

Communities in the 21st century are challenged with a myriad of social and emotional issues that affect young people in today’s society. Now more than ever, it is imperative that we unearth these challenges and open up a dialogue about seeking and receiving help. By bringing such issues as bullying, anxiety, depression, suicide, ADHD, learning disorders, and substance abuse to the forefront, this conference seeks to destigmatize mental-health concerns and advocate for the effective support of the well-being of all children, teens, and families. The day will include presentations, panels, and discussions with doctors, social workers, academics, parents, authors, and other pioneers in the field of mental health. Knowledge, strategies, lessons learned, and tools to implement effective best practices will be shared in order to make our homes, schools, and communities more caring, connected, and collaborative.

Conference Fee: $25 per person

Learn About the Program

Learn About the Presenters

Register Online

For more information or to request an assisted-listening device, please contact Melanie Goldberg at goldbergm@ujafedny.org.