One of the things I note about my blogging practice is that it lets/forces me to tie up various loose ends that would otherwise remain what they are - random threads of disjointed information. Sometimes I have a hard time coherently bringing them together. Like now. This post is a link-fest, and rather long.

Neal Postman’s recommendation that we include the study of semantics in school curricula to encourage critical thinking sparked my interest in the subject. Postman was referring to Korzybski’s general semantics, a theory about thought and language that examined the the differences between symbol and object, map and territory, and the processes of abstraction we use to construct knowledge. Postman’s interest in the subject was driven by his conviction that we are all potential victims of subtle and not-so-subtle media messages in what has become a technology-dominated society.

I was thinking about this three weeks ago when I left a comment at Liz’s blog, I Speak of Dreams. The comment I left was that the term ‘learning disability’ is a social construction, an idea that she responded to back here.

Blogging offers a great opportunity to have your beliefs and statements reflected back to you for reconsideration. Very briefly, I agree with Liz’s comment and I see why she needed to make it. She pointed out that there is often a neurological component associated with learning disabilities, as well as the social aspect. I want to elaborate a little bit about my comment which I see now has prompted a similar “red flag” from another of her readers. Liz’s comment highlighted my need to do some more reading and think some more on what I meant about disability being a social construction.

My immediate reaction to Liz’s comment was, Well…yes, there are both sociocultural and clinical dimensions to learning disabilities. That’s right. I didn’t mention it, or qualify my comment, because I assumed that it was obvious. And because she felt a need to mention this, I was alerted to the fact that I’d stepped into a bigger discussion I knew little about. I didn’t know about the political dimension of special education, which mirrors current debates about public education in general. Unsurprisingly, I suppose.

I’ve never had a course in reading dysfunction or neurological processes in reading, even in my graduate courses for a reading endorsement. Few teachers have, I’d wager. Every public school teacher has experience working with kids who have learning disabilities, but training in what to do is not widely available. Mostly, what we are offered is a commercially packaged solution that’s adopted at the district level with training provided to specialists and aides. So I’m behind the curve where theory is concerned here.

In reading through the material that Liz posted, I see she has linked to several resources for people who want to explore them. She also criticizes claims that dyslexia is a myth, and offers concrete suggestions for remediating dyslexia. While I agree with Liz that students with processing difficulties require special interventions, she and I do not agree that whole language is “nonsense.” But maybe we can avoid that discussion for now.

When we identify a kid who isn’t making normal progress in school, we try different things and meet with an “intervention team” to discuss the situation. Eventually we test for specific areas of strength and deficit to see if we can get a better sense of what’s happening. Questions that we attempt to resolve have to do with

  • memory functions,
  • auditory and visual processing,
  • language functions, including receptive and expressive vocabulary,
  • verbal and non-verbal abstract reasoning or logic,
  • attention span and concentration,
  • visual-perceptual abilities including various spatial tasks,
  • sequencing,
  • fine motor dexterity,
  • organizational and planning skills.

All of these are mapped against a broad cognitive (IQ) measure, to determine what the expected scores should be. If a student qualifies for services, and an individual education plan is developed, the student meets regularly with a specialist who provides instruction based on the student’s identified needs.

What interests me, and was the point of my comment, is that these same students may not appear in the least “disabled” away from school. The kids that we call “low achievers,” “behind,” and “at risk” may in fact be the same kids doing flips off the high board on a field trip to the pool, while their more “proficient” peers are wallowing in the shallow end afraid to put their faces in the water. I think about this when I work with my students, and I keep in mind that they come to school as whole people, and that it is in reference to curricular scope and sequence that we see them as “disabled.” In other words, the student is not the disability.

This may seem obvious but it isn’t always easy to remember. In the rush of a day when you realize that one of your students is having a particular unanticipated difficulty, you may not always have the ready solution, the properly understanding tone, the most graceful response. Achh! I don’t always get it right, but I try.

How we talk about disability has a powerful influence oh how we think about it. If we work from a deficit starting point, we constantly have to scale down, simplify, and accommodate. If, instead, we look at the situation as affording us an opportunity to restructure lessons with multiple entry points and an array of options for meeting objectives, we can begin to see how differentiating instruction would be beneficial to all students. The “disabled” student might also be viewed as a “creative” learner. Many students who are not LD also enjoy learning in a variety of ways.

I am not denying that these students have a right to high expectations. I am saying, though, that it is unfair to expect all students to learn the same things at the same rate, and in the same way. When we approach disability from a rigid and dogmatic frame of reference, we traumatize and cripple students who may merely need more time or an alternative approach. The discussion about LD that I wasn’t aware of appears to want to force participants into positions that advocate for either a neurological or social analysis of disability. I don’t see them as mutually exclusive. I believe I need to look at each student as an individual with a history and a future, and with needs and capabilities, special or otherwise.

Moreover, the territory is not a world of “either-or-ness” or, for that matter, of “thingness.” Yet our language depicts it as such. The territory never presents itself in all of its detail, whereas our language creates the illusion that our descriptions are complete. Everything in the world is unique but our language forces us into categorical thinking.” - Neal Postman, from “Alfred Korzybski” in Conscientious Objections: Stirring Up Trouble About Language, Technology, and Education (p. 143).

Hayakawa’s, Symbol, Status, and Personality, elaborates the theory of general semantics by Korzybski. Interesting reading, and certainly to the point. “The Tyranny of Words” chapter emphasizes that “The word is not the thing,” and that we need to remember that the meanings of words are inscribed by our responses, and not by other words. Hayakawa points out that, though we teach students the meanings of many things, we neglect to teach about what things do not mean.

The term ‘disability’ is meaningful only when there’s an inflexible norm or a standard, an ‘ability’, to compare with. What it does not mean is as important as what it might mean. Throughout my career I’ve attempted to be a buffer for students against institutional abuses. This has never meant lowering my expectations, but instead has meant having realistic expectations for everyone, which requires flexibility in decision making and a thoughtful consideration of each child’s specific capabilities.