Making the grade
When Jamie entered kindergarten nine years ago, my wife Janet and I worried that he wouldn’t be ready. Our concerns were not unusual—but Jamie was: he would be the only child with Down syndrome in Westview Elementary. He was assigned a paraprofessional and “pullout” sessions for occupational and speech therapy: standard fare, these days, for “special needs” children of all kinds. But at the age of six, Jamie wasn’t very verbal, and we had no idea how he’d adjust to a real classroom after four years of child care.
Imagine our relief, then, when we went to our first parent-teacher conference in October and were informed that Jamie was “advanced” academically but needed some work with his social skills. He knew the alphabet and lots of fun facts about animals; he had shown off his amazing memory. How, we were asked, had he managed to learn so much?
Last fall, our first meeting with Jamie’s seventh-grade teachers was not nearly so cheering. Despite his math skills—he can do two-digit multiplication with ease—he was failing to grasp the concepts of area and perimeter. He wasn’t paying attention in science class, where his paraprofessional was doing much of his work for him; and he didn’t seem to get French at all.
We’d asked for Jamie to be included in those three “regular” classrooms, on the grounds that he’s good at math, fascinated with the natural world, and exceptionally curious about languages. But when we discovered that the next item on the math agenda would be the area of irregular shapes, we agreed to bail out.
We pleaded for French and science, though. “I know he’s not getting it all,” Janet said to his science teacher. “But he truly loves learning about the world around him, and we don’t want that world to close in on him . . . just yet.” His French teacher, unsurprisingly, had never had a child with Down syndrome in her class; she assured us that Jamie did not speak when he was called on and did not understand how to write complete sentences in French. “He doesn’t write complete sentences in English, either,” I replied. “And he’s shy about speaking up. But he already knows the days of the week and the months of the year, and he’s beginning to understand about time. Now, we don’t want him to slow down the rest of the class. So if it’s possible for him to take the class pass/fail, we’ll do everything we can to help him.”
I turned out to be wrong about time: Jamie never did understand why the French perversely insist on calling 7:40 eight hours minus twenty, so I eventually agreed with him that sept heures et quarante would get the general idea across even if it was marked “wrong” on the test. And even though he learned what voyager means, he never remembered that tu voyages has an “s” even though je voyage and il voyage do not. But he negotiated the hyphens and apostrophes of qu’est-ce que c’est with élan, he mastered the form of est-ce que tu? and he turned out to be a whiz with adverbs—getting them right quelquefois at first, then souvent. (Though quelquefois remains his favorite.) His pronunciation got better and better, too—no small thing for a child who didn’t learn to read fluently until he was eight. It was hard enough for him to master English vowels and silent letters the first time around, let alone foreign imponderables like ils aiment and les yeux.
One day when we were walking Lucy, our dog, I told him how proud I was of all his hard work in French. He was in no mood for kind words: “it’s too hard,” he grumbled. “I always fail.” He’d said something similar about science as well, when he had trouble keeping track of all the parts of a cell and began to realize that he might not achieve his dream of becoming a marine biologist. (I told him he could still shoot for the position of marine biologist helper.) Jamie is fifteen years old; he knows he has a disability, he knows that it’s called “Down syndrome,” and he’s very well aware of how hard he struggles just to stay in the same room with “normal” kids a few years younger than he. He even had an odd moment of illumination in January of this year when the science class turned to the details of human reproduction, and he learned that most of us have 46 chromosomes but that people with Down syndrome have 47. “Wow, one more,” he said, intrigued and a little bit impressed. I wonder if he thought to himself, you know, that explains a lot, and whether this was any comfort to him in those rare moments when he thinks of himself as someone who always fails.
But despite his moments of despair, he never failed to remember that étudier and décembre take accents aigus and that mère and père take accents graves. When we asked him, parle-tu français? he never failed to say je parle français souvent or très bien—even though those answers are not quite true. And although he failed his science test on rocks, he learned a great deal about living things—which is where his real interests lie, anyway. When, in response to his query about why one of his Challenger League baseball teammates was bald, I tried to explain to him what cancer is, and how cells could be sick, he replied, “like the cell membrane and the cell nucleus.” When we went through the digestive system on one long homework night, I said “let’s skip the pancreas—I don’t think you know that one,” and he shot back, “Lucy had pancreatitis and cannot eat any spicy food.”
At the end of the year, Jamie’s teachers and caseworkers advised us that eighth-grade science and French would definitely be too much for him. Perhaps they feared that Jamie’s parents, the double-barreled Ph.D.s, would push their disabled kid until he broke. “That’s fine with us,” we said, to their palpable relief. “We just wanted him to get a sense of it all, and to stay in some regular classes for as long as he could.” From this point on, we figure, we’ll hire tutors for him, and they can teach him at his own pace.
It’s true, he failed quelquefois. But in eight years of inclusive education, he learned more about the world than we—or, possibly, he—could have hoped for when he started kindergarten. Now, as Jamie finally leaves the “regular” classroom, all we can hope is that he taught his teachers and classmates a few valuable things about people with 47 chromosomes. And that they’ll remember the lesson, too.
Talk about mystical convergence, we must have uploaded at almost the same time.
Posted by Bill Benzon on 12/11 at 09:52 AMThat wasn’t me. That was some other dopplegänger.
Posted by on 12/11 at 09:55 AMThanks for the Jamie stories.
Posted by on 12/11 at 11:28 AMJamie and I really do have a lot in common. Both of us love to travel (yes, including the packing) and public aquariums. Both of us struggled with French. For my PhD I needed to be “certified” by the university to have a reading knowledge of German and French. German was OK, I’d taken it before and I sailed through.
I was assured the French translation class was a snap. French has lots of cognates, the grammar isn’t too screwy, no problem. Naturally, I failed the class the first time I took it. I passed it the second time but it was tough. So I sympathize with Jamie and French. To this day, French is Greek to me. He and I would have a lot to talk about (in English) if we ever met.
Posted by on 12/11 at 11:35 AMAs you say, Jamie’s exposure to “regular” classrooms was also “regular“‘s exposure to Jamie; mutual opportunities.
Because Jamie didn’t get to the plus-que-parfait on an exam doesn’t mean he’s not more than perfect in his own ways and places. His stories have opened my eyes. Thanks.
Captcha: final. Final exams—Not the End of Learning™.
Posted by black dog barking on 12/11 at 11:43 AMWhatever Jamie’s limits have been in the “regular” classroom, he seems to have the qualities I wish I saw in all my students with 46 chromosomes: curiosity, persistence, love of learning, an ability to make connections and associations that are meaningful to him, willingness to engage in conversation with others about his learning.
Posted by Joanna on 12/11 at 11:51 AMMichael:
Some months ago, you wrote about a computer program designed to help develop language skills. Did you ever acquire one for Jamie? And if you did, how is it working out?
Posted by Roxanne on 12/11 at 12:05 PM-
The story of the pilgrimage so far:
Episode 1, The Cap of Command: comment 31
Episode 2, Atom Boy: comment 79
Extra! Extra! Bérubé Sees Light at End of Tunnel, comment 38:
Bill Benzon
Minister of Visual Propaganda
WAAGNFNPcaptcha: “schools”
Posted by Bill Benzon on 12/11 at 12:31 PM Well, it took me forever to set up that program, Roxanne, because it comes with an ungodly number of bells and whistles. And for the most part, when Jamie’s on the computer he vastly prefers playing his Harry Potter CD-ROMs (at which he is more than proficient). But when he does get into it, every now and then, he does so with hand-rubbing glee. Fostering more of that is going to be one of my resolutions for ‘07.
Posted by Michael on 12/11 at 12:32 PMI’m thinking we should have a gradudation party to celebrate all of Jamie’s achievements thus far, and to commence with all the achievements he’ll know and enjoy in the future. My friend Stephen has a great job with a local vet. He greets folks as they come in,helps in the care of their pets, keeps their cages clean, and remembers everyone’s name. He’d prefer to work in an aquarium, but he loves his job nevertheless.
Posted by on 12/11 at 12:40 PMHeck, I only have 46 chromosomes and even I have a little problem with how the French conceptualize time. And I’ve been wrestling with the language off and on for over six years.
Also, I’ve always had a problem with directional language like over there. So walking around solo in Paris when French people kept asking me directions was hilarious. So if he knows how to ask where the facilities are, and say please and thank you he’d probably do alright for himself.
Posted by on 12/11 at 01:31 PMI always enjoy your blog.
Posted by Brandon on 12/11 at 03:04 PMI will use this story in my undergrad class next semester when I talk about inclusive classrooms and pullouts. Quite powerful in its understatement.
Posted by A. G. Rud on 12/11 at 03:46 PMCongratulations to Jamie for doing as well as he does. I think his accomplishments are extremely impressive, and he does as well in French as my “typical” kids do. We too are looking at our last year of full inclusion; Russell’s high school life will be half and half. He’ll be included for things like gym, drama, music, etc. It’s a strange adjustment to make after 10 years but he’s very excited about moving on. Getting a girlfriend is one of his high school goals.
Posted by on 12/11 at 04:03 PMall we can hope is that he taught his teachers and classmates a few valuable things about people with 47 chromosomes.
Your hope is more often than not fully realized in “mainstreamed” classrooms. More and more, teachers are discovering that those students--who show up with the burden of IEP’s, 504’s, ADA title regs, etc.--provide the classrooms with experiences better serving the public good and civil commons. I can’t begin to read through letters i have collected from students in classes like these. The positive life-affirming experiences that are reflected help make this country a tiny bit better. We need so much more of it. Thank you, and Janet, for insisting that Jamie enrich the whole by staying in those seventh grade classes. Maybe he will discover all the cool french cooking terms and take a liking to the kitchen.
Posted by on 12/11 at 04:04 PMThe flash requirement is moronic. Damn this crap is interfering with my HD torrents, my 22G Gladiator is taking forever (heh DRM).
I do take the dumbing of da intraweb personally and further trivializing of my space will be met with aggressive petulance.
Posted by PenGun on 12/11 at 04:48 PMFrom the Jamie posts to Theory Tuesdays to ABF Fridays to the GNF, if there’s a better writer on the internets than Michael Bérubé, I’ll eat my hat.
Posted by on 12/11 at 04:53 PMQuelquefois is my favorite French adverb, too.
And despite my nom, Intermediate II French almost ruined my life.Maybe Jamie likes languages in the same ways that many English majors and artsy types do: as tactile, animate things rather than as mathematical puzzles to be solved? Upper level French eventually seemed like a secret code, almost like a computer code, with a place for everything and everything in its place. The pleasure of quelquefois got lost.
I hope he will still be able to remain in some high school level classes, even if they are more about social interaction than “getting” a subject. It’s nice to have a peer group. Does Jamie have any interest in blogging?
Posted by on 12/11 at 06:54 PMMichael,
I really do hope that this essay will be published somewhere. It should be read by lots of people who are “interested in pedagogy and helping people.”Posted by on 12/11 at 06:58 PMJamie certainly does not fail at everything! He succeeds souvent at astonishing his parents with his abilities and, thanks to this blog, educating and winning the hearts of thousands of readers a day!
Très bien Jamie!
Posted by Dr. Virago on 12/11 at 07:12 PMThanks for all the encouragement and kind words, folks. I have to confess that this little essay wasn’t quite right for the place to which I submitted it, so the rejection wasn’t a big surprise. But can anyone tell me what PenGun is talking about in comment 16?
Posted by Michael on 12/11 at 08:03 PMMaybe MySpace.com finally raised the bar on its entry requirements and PenGun didn’t meet the basic standards because he has no quicktime?
Posted by on 12/11 at 08:08 PMCorrect placement of students can be so difficult. I’ve sat through more than my share of ARDs, so I know it can be pretty tough to try to balance social and educational benefits when the two are not necessarily in harmony. I’m glad Jamie learned some valuable things; I’m sure the other students and teachers learned from him.
Posted by on 12/11 at 08:28 PMMichael, thanks for the essay, and thanks to Jamie for sharing his experiences with all of us!
I believe PenGun may be talking about the weblog awards poll. It has a Flash requirement (which keeps my vote count down, because our linux-based department computers don’t have flash installed). But I’m just guessing.
And Foucault: no dissing of mathematics please - it is actually a living thing, too, believe it or not.
Posted by on 12/11 at 09:05 PMSorry christian h.
My grade nine math teacher told me I would be a self-fulfilling prophecy if I told myself that I could never do math. He was right.
I like the theoretical *concept* of math. I just can’t grasp the basic practice. Thank heavens the show trial won’t involve solving equations, or CC would waltz out a free man.
Posted by on 12/11 at 09:13 PMThank heavens the show trial won’t involve solving equations, or CC would waltz out a free man.
Brilliant idea! But maybe not for this blog… we’ll stick with languages then. I should point out that critical theory is considerably closer to mathematics than ninth grade “math”.
captcha: “system”. As in: CC might try to blame it.
Posted by on 12/11 at 09:21 PMBut can anyone tell me what PenGun is talking about in comment 16?
The Weblog Award voting box is implemented in Flash, bane of all, and source of the Pennguy whine.
Posted by on 12/11 at 09:27 PMSorry to the PenGuy. I didn’t even notice the flash… probably because I’m dense, and not because it doesn’t affect my computer.
So how does an advanced mathematician become such a radical leftist? Shouldn’t this unlikely collision of worlds bring about some vortex in the universe, a spiral of spontaneous combustion almost on par with the GNF?
Posted by on 12/11 at 10:02 PMWhy would you think that mathematicians are not generally radical leftists? I think we have just as many as most academic disciplines this side of economics. You should read some of the disclaimers in articles published in proceedings of conferences partially sponsored by NATO in the seventies…
Posted by on 12/11 at 10:43 PMStereotypes, I guess. Although when you look at it metaphorically, it takes numbers to start a revolution.
What did the disclaimers say? “Caution: the radical calculations expressed in these documents in no way reflect the more conservative dogmas of transatlantic leaders?”
This may be another stereotype, but I really like that movie, A BEAUTIFUL MIND. I thought it presented a side of mathematical obsession that was really understandable to me. For the first time ever, I felt excited about math and wished I could think about it on the level depicted in the film.
captcha: moral, as in “The moral is that you shouldn’t diss something till you really try it.”
Posted by on 12/11 at 11:10 PMYour disclaimer is much better than the real ones! They were more of the “I want it known I didn’t take any money from NATO to attend the conference” type. Of course, there is considerable military funding for mathematics through DARPA and NSA (the latter being by far the biggest employer of mathematicians in the world. I know people who work there - well, I should say knew as they are apparently no longer allowed to talk to me or any foreigners, for that matter). It will come as no surprise that there is a considerable concentration of Trots in French mathematics.
Posted by on 12/11 at 11:25 PMIf Jamie wants to be a marine biologist, he shouldn’t be encouraged to start slacking off now. Even assistant marine biologists require qualifications these days (there appear to be exceptions for Emperors of Japan, but I don’t know whether Jamie qualifies). Of course he prefers playing computer games; don’t we all? However, the rest of us have been socialized into capitalist work ethics, and we keep trudging on. That’s what, in the current system of the world, parents are for. And what schools are for is making friends. I’m sure a tutor could teach him more curriculum than school, but that doesn’t count. My friend Anne was living in an institution for retarded people and got no education of any description until the age of 15, and once the education started was up to speed by eighteen; fast, but as the judge remarked, “she has had the immense advantage of avoiding completely modern primary and secondary education”. However, having missed out on so much close-order drill it was then a devil of a job to keep her motivation alive through an eight-year part-time university course. The world is a mechanism for making us do things we don’t want to, and unless Jamie is a part of that he’s not going to be able to fulfill his dreams and show his teachers and caseworkers how very wrong they are.
Is he sure he doesn’t want to be a cultural studies critic? I have the impression there’s less Latin to it.Posted by Chris B on 12/11 at 11:26 PMI had a terrible time learning math. I had to take 2 remedial courses at the college level, and finally got how to tell area from perimeter: In area, you’re finding out how much carpet will fit inside. Perimeter, how much fence goes around outside. I see things and then can remember them, but until I see it...forget it!
Posted by on 12/12 at 03:56 AM(Off topic)
Foucault - the Minister of Justice is trying to reach you. Please contact me (email below) or spyder at the Ministry of Offense and Defense at your earliest conveneince. Thanks.Posted by Oaktown Girl on 12/12 at 06:39 AMDamn this new software preview glitch. Foucault, the email should pop up now, or else I’m adding it to the list of charges against the Accused.
Posted by on 12/12 at 06:40 AMJust tryin’ to do my best, Chris. Honest. And I sometimes fail.
Posted by on 12/12 at 09:16 AMHi Oaktown Girl,
Alas, my home computer does not allow me to click on people’s names and see their addresses. However, when I arrive at my Prosecurial Palace later today, I will try to contact you directly.
Sincere apologies. Yes, let’s add pop-ups to the list of charges against Clarke.
Posted by on 12/12 at 09:25 AMThanks, Michael. I was hoping that you would write a post like this. My four year old, speech-delayed kid will be in that same gray area next year—sorta regular, sorta not regular. I was curious how Jaime was doing in the public school and what arrangements you had set up for him. I hope that Ian’s school is going to be as willing as yours to push for inclusion. It’s stressful, n’est pas?
Posted by Laura on 12/12 at 11:48 AMThanks for sharing, Michael. Through my wife’s work as an OT, I have learned about the immense benefits to ALL children (not to mention teachers and parents too) in inclusive classrooms. I will do everything I can for my daughter to be a part of inclusion classes, because everyone benefits in that model. And please congratulate Jamie on all of his hard work.
Posted by on 12/12 at 12:57 PMthis somewhat surreal thread
Forgot how much really was going on in that thread - including I think the first mention of a Steel Cage Death Match - although with different participants.And in the Occasional French Speakers subdvision of the Steel Cage Match League for Ultimate Truth, Understanding and Contribution to What Really Matters in This Imperfect World, I’ve got Jamie coming in miles ahead of the likes of Dr JA.
I’d say several hundred floors above him in The Tower of Truth.
Posted by on 12/12 at 02:09 PMDear Mr. Bérubé,
Though I’m sure our disagreements are boundless I want to let you know that Alex and I greatly admire your devotion to your son and appreciate the kind of work you do, though perhaps, not your work itself. Regardless of the outcome of the Weblog Awards please know that you have our respect. May God bless you.
Sincerely,
Brett HarrisPosted by Brett Harris on 12/12 at 06:35 PMThanks for the gracious note, Brett, and best of luck to you, your brother, and Mrs. Braun too.
Posted by Michael on 12/12 at 06:51 PMThough you addressed your remarks to Michael, Brett, I’d like to say something.
First, though I’m a rapidly aging bachelor and have no children, I have no trouble understanding why someone would want to home school their children. The public schools, alas, leave much to be desired. I understand that many—perhaps most—home schoolers are Christian, and I know that SpunkyHomeSchool is Christian, though I haven’t read it enough to know which of the many versions of Christianity it favors. Though I am, more or less, a secular humanist, I fear than many leftist intellectuals are, for whatever reason, entirely unreasonable in their attitudes toward religion in general, and fundamentalism in particular—an issue I’ve broached at The Valve.
Interesting reading list you’ve got.
Posted by Bill Benzon on 12/12 at 07:02 PMjamie is not failing, not at all. he has done what he can with regular classes, and shared what he can. but it is clear he is not done learning and growing, and he has hardly begun with what he has to offer to the world.
Posted by on 12/12 at 09:26 PMI would have to affirm Brett Harris’ statement. I have the greatest respect for the kind of work you do, and hope that some of our somewhat satiric comments are not taken in a wrong way. Good luck and God bless.
Tim Sweetman
Posted by Tim Sweetman on 12/13 at 11:09 PMJaime shouldn’t bail so soon. What about pushing those educators to adapt the curriculum so Jaime can stay in the class with his peers, still learn what he can of the subject matter, continue to astound and confound the world with his own type of intelligence? Of course only if he wants to.
Posted by on 12/14 at 12:04 AMTim, you’ve come to the right place for satiric comments being taken the right way. Good luck to Spunky, and best wishes to you and your family.
Posted by on 12/14 at 12:07 AMI sit here with a lump in my throat reading about your son. You probably already know this, but you and your wife are your son’s best chamption. My younger brother (who will be 39 in January) has Prader-Willi. My parents were told early on that Jon would never live independently.
As each of us grew up, became adults, got married and started families, Jon continued to live at home. My parents had tried group homes but they never seemed to work out. Finally, Jon started to question why he also couldn’t move out and live independently.
His caseworkers said it couldn’t be done. This was the wrong thing to say to my parents. Anytime a barrier was placed in their way and they were told Jon couldn’t do something, they found a way to make it happy. Sometimes, they were seen as pushy, but they realized no one would truly advocate for him in the way that they would.
I’m very, very proud of my younger brother. He has managed to live independently for the past 15 years, goes to work, and is very involved in Special Olympics.
(sorry this got kind of long!)
Posted by ms-teacher on 12/14 at 01:32 AMI know that this comment is very late! But I’m visiting you for the first time and my daughter is 10 years old and has Down Syndrome. She is in 3rd grade and they are starting to give us the “now things get very academic” speech and move her into a special needs class in another school. Your Jamie sounds lovely and you all very wise (and a few years ahead of us). You state that Jamie knows he has DS- did you sit down formally and tell him? I struggle with this- how to help my daughter understand at a time when she can understand. Anyway- I’ll cruise around your old posts and see what I can glean and get to know you all better! Thanks for going before.....
Posted by starrlife on 02/16 at 08:25 AMMichael,
Your story of your journey with Jamie and your family through his life has inspired me. As a second year Education student, I am going to specialize in working with children with special needs. Jamie’s story has taught me a lot about the importance of the teacher and how influential it can be for the child and family to have that support system. Jamie’s story has moved me to continue with my studies and to be a teacher that understands children like Jamie and embraces them in the classroom.Thank you for sharing your story
Posted by on 02/17 at 05:15 PM
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