I am someone who advocates for ALL students to be welcomed and included in learning environments across the district. I define myself as an inclusion advocate, engaging in problem-solving and planning conversations all the time. I visit classrooms and teach model lessons to help classroom teachers envision ways to differentiate and provide multiple points of entry so that all students in their learning community participate in meaningful ways.
This year, I was challenged with supporting a couple of school teams who were really struggling provide a meaningful school experience for two learners who are on the autism spectrum, are non-verbal, and who have significant challenges with self-regulation. Not regular challenges with self-regulation. The kind of challenges that led to two adults working with each of these children at all times, and programs that had evolved to the point where these children were essentially isolated in a separate space with those adults for the bulk of the day.
This was really hard for the dedicated, empathetic, creative teams working with them. Each and every person- and I do mean everyone - classroom teachers, learning support teachers, education assistants, administrators, parents, itinerant specialists and outside consultants - supporting these children wanted more for them. Success timetables with opportunities to learn and grow alongside peers had been developed for most every environment, indoor and out, for these students. The speech-language pathologists had developed high and low-tech communication devices for them, there was a clear and workable structure for a visual schedule and transitions.
We just couldn't get there. These learners are incredibly complex, and we learned, over time, that their significant sensory needs currently impair their capacity to be safe and successful in typical learning environments. Even in the spaces that had been set up for them in their home schools, they were exposed to bells, announcements, lighting, noises, large groups of moving children, and even "funny smells" from hot lunch and cooking programs. We just couldn't get the recipe right for them.
After many, many, parent meetings and conversations with the teams at both home schools, we decided we needed to do something different. We needed a place where we could focus on these students' needs, and systematically build in interventions and opportunities, especially tailored for them to build capacity with the skills they needed to be successful in their home school environments. We needed a facility that provided opportunity for practicing learning behaviours in a classroom, for up-regulating (our sensory room), down-regulating (our quiet room), and easy access to the washroom. We needed to be able to work through the challenging moments that would be needed in a way that allowed these students to scream, to cry, to sleep, to explore, to succeed, in a respectful, open way, while keeping everyone, both students and adults, safe while this practice happens.
Thus Bridges was born.
Over spring break, we relocated some of the Learning Service offices to vacate a four-pack of learning spaces that were ideally arranged for this type of supportive environment. We ordered equipment, found a teacher, enlisted the help of some education assistants who already knew the children from their previous environments, and got things going.
I'm not going to pretend we haven't had difficult days. Of course we have. When you're supporting learners as complex as these young people, you will always have things to work out and wonder about. But overall, the families are thrilled their children are able to be at school all week, to learn alongside a peer, to participate in field trips, and to have the time and space they need to have their individual needs supported along the way.
But that's not really what this post is about. This post is about the gnawing niggle in my stomach that I've had since the moment Bridges opened it's doors. I'm awfully proud of the work being done in there. I can't even believe how fantastic the team of adults is - taking every moment in stride, continually reflecting on next steps, or considering antecedents or triggers for the challenging moments that erupt on a daily basis.
So if Bridges is successful, why can't I just relax and celebrate?
It's because I struggle, every day, with how this matches with my beliefs about inclusion. If I believe that teachers need to teach for ALL, that classrooms need to provide multiple points of entry for ALL, that They're ALL our Kids, how can I be ok with having two students leave their home schools, their neighborhood schools, every day, to attend this off-site environment?
After attending the BC CASE conference last month, and being lucky enough to listen to several educators whom I have immense respect for, I've landed on a couple of thoughts that are helping.
1. It's about having a PURPOSE within the PLACE. (Thanks, again, Shelley Moore). You're right. Students need to have something meaningful to DO in the place they are learning. We need to create meaningful opportunities for them in the learning environments they encounter. Because of the challenges these young learners currently experience, we couldn't do that in their previous environment. They are not yet able to regulate in a safe enough way to be with other children in a busy, or even a quiet, space. This led to dangerous situations, sometimes resulting in injury, in their previous settings.
Bridges is a PLACE that meets them where they are at, giving them opportunity to practice being self-regulated learners in an environment that has all of the additional supports and tools, and access to specialists, they require if we are going to help them to develop these skills. Their PURPOSE is building the skills they need to Bridge (pun totally intended) back to their home schools when ready.
2. It's about COMMUNITY. It's not enough to say we're doing "Social Inclusion" by allowing them to warm a seat at a table somewhere within a room full of others. (Thank you, Pat Mirenda.)These children deserve an opportunity to develop friendships and connections with peers. Things were very difficult for them in a larger school environment. They were too overwhelmed to connect with peers, or "big buddies." Their whole experience was structured around the adults setting up opportunities for them to interact in safe ways- which meant there was most often an adult "buffer" between them and other learners. Now they take turns with activities in their new classroom. They sit together to eat their meals. They go on weekly field trips to the library, daily walks on the nature bath. They get Star Wars day.
So, now I have three suggestions or thoughts I can offer when challenged to describe Bridges as an inclusive place. I am proud of Bridges because I see how supportive and successful it is being for these learners.
I'm glad that the gnawing niggle in my belly remains, though. This environment was created as an INTERVENTION for some children who really needed another way to approach their learning. It's not a "new school."
We need to always be mindful of our end goal - self-regulated learners who have developed the skills and capacities to return to find a purpose within a place back with their peers in their neighbourhood schools. That is the purpose of this place. The moment we move away from that, and become complacent, or accept this type of intervention as a "necessity," without looking ahead, we've missed the point. We have a moral obligation to provide meaningful opportunities every day for every learner, in the most inclusive way possible. This intervention, like all intervention, needs to be goal-focused and time-limited.
Bridges is an inclusive environment for learners who were isolated in their previous settings. These learners experience opportunities that allow for that challenge, support, community and celebration in their daily school experience. It allows for wrap-around support to care for our most vulnerable students. But it is an intervention. It's not a "program." It's definitely not a "school." As long as we remember that, we'll remember that They Are All Our Kids.
