Integrating Inclusion and Transition
People have asked me to explain why I chose Included with the End in Mind as the title for my newly released book.
It is an expression of my frustration and my passion. As an educational consultant, I talk with a variety of people who have their own perspectives about inclusive education and secondary transition.
When I talk with parents, I ache with the pain of living in an emotional tug of war. On the one hand, wanting to wrap my arms around my teenager to shield against the cruel harshness of taunting peers and unrelenting failures. On the other hand, holding my breath, afraid to hope that one day he will be a competent, self-sufficient employee with a family of his own.
When I talk with general education teachers, I droop under the weight of trying to juggle more new initiatives than I have time to master. I am flooded with images of long hours leaning over plan books, enduring meetings with little relevance to my own classroom dilemmas, and groggy mornings from a night haunted by shadows of students who defied my best efforts.
When I talk with special educators, I recall prospective graduate students who shared stories of children with disabilities who had changed their lives. Their wistful visions of what could be stand in stark contrast with special educators I see now hovering on the perimeter of classrooms.
I remember ducking my head during discussion of student data when “my kids” scored lower than those without disabilities. I also remember gritting my teeth with determination that nobody would fail the next test. I hated having to choose between making myself look effective and giving students the latitude to fail I could guide their reflection on what went wrong.
When I talk with youth, I sigh with their boredom while teachers yack on from the front of the classroom. The compliant (good) students complete their work, but would rather turn to more exciting peer and online encounters. Too many experience schools as impersonal places manned by adults who treat them like objects on the assembly line and leave much too early.
So I named my book Included with the End in Mind.
“Included” because everyone must be included in owning the solution – educators, families, and the community, but it’s also a double meaning because “inclusion” usually refers to practices that make it possible for students with disabilities to participate and belong in the general education classroom. “The End in Mind” refers to the ultimate goal of education – to prepare ALL children to be ready for adult life — academically, socially, behaviorally, and with essential attitudes about problem solving, about people who are different, and about themselves.
