Onwards: Winning and Losing

June 12, Friday
I’ve been thinking about the concept of winning, how we’ve constructed that concept, how this has influenced how kids look at winning and by extension, how we educate people (in this case, kids) how to handle failure or "losing". Had field day today, something like sports day. We hopped on a bus and headed to Asphalt Green, a big field in which the parent-teacher association (PTA) organized different play stations for the kids to experience. The school has an incredibly strong and wealthy PTA who amassed probably hundreds of dollars to rent the place out, prepare the lunch and snack for around 300 kids, and to just get everything together.

It’s interesting to see how competitive the kids are in the field. All good fun in most cases with them cheering their teammates on. Our class of 31 kids was split into two. I tagged along with Ms. R who took one half while Ms. M and Mr. N took the other. Amidst the crazy cheering (we were the blue team) and occasional child crying from being hit in the face (by a sponge?), I actually learnt way more than I expected to, particularly, in seeing how Ms. R handled the kids. Ms. R is the half of co-teaching team that usually handles more of the emotional and behavioural aspects that crop up. ICT classrooms are comprised of a general education teacher and a special education one--Ms. R is the latter but they both work together in planning for class. 

Some moments:

1. It is a sack race and the last person on our team just returned and we are rejoicing because we finished first. Then, in the corner, there is a raucous: ZS (the boy from my last post) is trying to get into the sack and half the kids around him are just shouting--I see AA whisper something to him that makes him close his eyes and half stop trying to get in while the other kids are half frustrated in disbelief about something. Ms. R notices the situation just when she s half cheering at our completion (I was also becoming excited at us winning). She realises he might not have gone, tells everyone to calm down and asks ZS if he has gone yet. He shakes his head a bit, closes his eyes, half gets out of the sack and says something to the effect of never mind all while everyone is still screaming and jeering indiscriminately. Turns out, ZS hadn't gone yet and everyone was half mad and half frustrated because if he went now, it would obviously make us lose. I have a gut feeling that AA whispered to ZS to just pretend to have gone from the expression he has. Even though I did feel Ms. R's eagerness to help our team win, she does something simple but hard to do in the moment, sometimes, when you're actually in the game. She asks over all the frustrated kids, "Z, have you gone yet?" The kids roar over her and ZS hesitates to answer but Ms. R says again, "NO, I'm not asking you (other kids), I'm asking Z. Z, have you gone yet? It's okay if you haven't." "No, I haven't." A kid screams, "BUT HE'S GOING TO MAKE US LOSE NOW--" "No, it's okay. He can go. Let's go, Z," Ms. R talks to Z. And he eventually goes, and we surprisingly still win. But that is not the point. You could tell ZS really wanted to go--that big smile while he hopped all the way back to us was one of the biggest I've ever seen as Ms. R got the whole team to cheer him on has he crossed the finish line. As lost as ZS can get in his own world, I am reminded of that part of him that loves to be included in things and in the know of why a person is upset, why a table gets to stay in class for lunch, to see the bird nest everyone is talking about by our AC near the classroom window. 

It could have been a multitude of factors for ZS to have missed his turn--he might have been having one of those moments in his world; the kids were so eager in awaiting their own turns and finishing the race that it was possible that they just forgot about ZS. As disheartening as that is, I have seen it quite regularly throughout my time here. For the most part, it's not that the other kids are "bad" or "uncompassionate" children. They actually, are rather inclusive--they try to engage with ZS if he is part of their team in projects and they politely answer him when he asks a question. But there is that other line that you cross naturally (you would think) like asking how your day was, talking about the last soccer match you played on FIFA, or making plans to have a play date this weekend--those more intimate and interpersonal things you do between and outside class time that you can't really artificially create or structure into. Things that happen almost without thinking, for ZS, in some ways, is more challenging for him to do. And to be completely raw and honest, it does hurt me sometimes when I think about this. His dad sometimes chaperones during field trips and I like his style of inconspicuously making sure ZS isn't too left out or has his little needs met. I can tell by the way he lags behind in the group with ZS who is often a few steps behind the group in his world, pressing his face against the wall as he walks to feel the surfaces of the wall or a simple flapping of the hands and wobbling of the feet as he puts one step in front of the other. All of this has made me more aware of this struggle in empathy skills and the emotional component, which I have read about in theory but never fully understood. It is real and I believe important to recognise in order to effectively navigate and try to work with these unique set of challenges. 

One thing about me being here in the class is that I was never told who actually has an IEP (receives special education modifications or accommodations) and who doesn't. I also don't know what particular diagnoses these kids might have. And if I am perfectly honest, especially in an inclusive setting like this one, sometimes, you can't really tell because they fit well with everyone else. The behavioural and instructional modifications can mostly be seen as really good teaching and great learner-centered environments for learning, in my opinion. This is why I have and still feel very strongly about the grey areas when we talk about general vs. special education, at least when it comes to high incidence cases (mild to moderate disabilities). Also why I feel that many of these "modifications" or differentiated instruction, while validly needed by some learners more than others, can be even more powerful if used in ALL classrooms/learning settings.It goes back to the question I posed in my reflection at the beginning of my Div 2 contract (an academic plan we write during our second year at Hampshire): Is the line between having and not having a learning (dis)ability as clear as we think it is? Can we equate anyone who seemingly struggles to conform to a one-size-fits-all education system as someone with a learning disability? I am not saying that learning disabilities don’t exist. But what I am saying is that there are a wide range of learners in this world and when I look t learners, I don’t see a line separating two entities but rather a spectrum across the board. A spectrum of learners that have not been fully able to thrive in a one-size-fits-all system (yes, I say it again). It’s that analogy that’s been going around a lot these days—"If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that its stupid.” And that has been violently burning in my mind and heart when I think about how much learning and finding ways to help learners grow and be their best selves matter to me. Gah. So much feels. It really hits me hard in the heart. I really really feel strongly about this.

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I thought I would write more but I think I’ll stop here for now. For the love of learning, onwards!