One of
the most popular posts on this blog is called Fair Isn’t Equal.In it I include a
wonderful graphic that helps to illustrate the difference between the concepts
of fairness and equality.
Most people believe that “fairness
means that everyone gets the same”; whereas in reality “fairness means that
everyone gets what he or she needs.” Further,
fairness is one of the most commonly used arguments against inclusion.
“Teaching students of different abilities in the same class isn’t fair to those
who can move at a quicker pace,” or “It’s not fair to hold back some students to
prevent others from falling behind.”
Children are naturally inquisitive. Young
children are curious about their environment and want to know all they can
about how the world works and why. They do this by asking questions and
exploring their surroundings. Asking questions is the way children get someone’s
attention and engage them in conversation.
And yet we discourage
children from asking questions when we consistently reward those students who
find answers and solutions on their own. Think about it, how often do teachers or
peers inwardly groan as the stereotypical child raises her hand to ask yet
another question? How often do we praise a student’s problem solving abilities,
especially when he has made independent discoveries?
Since the passing of Nelson Mandela, many have been reflecting on his powerful legacy. I am consistently struck by the parallels of what we learn from this beautiful and inspiring man and the Jewish values that I hold so close. His message was clear, his impact great. Each of us matters. No matter the color of our skin, our religion, our gender; no matter if we are disabled or gifted, rich or poor; resilience - the qualities of perseverance and determination in the face of adversity - might just be the greatest skill that we can teach our children. As it says in Proverbs 24:16:
For a righteous man can fall seven times and rise, but the wicked shall stumble upon evil.
Anyone can fall. Everyone WILL fall. What matters is that we get back up. And that we do not celebrate the weaknesses of others. "Do not judge me by my successes, judge me by how many times I fell down and got back up again."
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As we near the celebration of Thanksgiving, I veer slightly
off-course from my typical content in the spirit of appreciation and giving thanks.
The main reason for this post is to announce that I
have been nominated by blogger Zachary Fenell for a Sunshine Award! A Sunshine
Award is an opportunity for readers to learn more about the nominated blogger
(that’s me!) and provides an opportunity to highlight fellow bloggers who
he/she feels make a significant contribution to the blogging community.
Here are the rules (as listed on Zachary’s blog):
Acknowledge
the nominating blogger (Thanks again, Zachary!).
Share
11 random facts about yourself.
Answer
the 11 questions the nominating blogger has created for you.
List
11 bloggers. They should be bloggers you believe deserve some recognition
and a little blogging love!
Post
11 questions for the bloggers you nominate to answer and let all the
bloggers know they have been nominated. (You cannot nominate the blogger
who nominated you.)
11 Random Facts about Me:
My favorite color is green.
I took Spanish in high school. I
was also a certified lifeguard & water safety instructor. I combined both and taught a swim class at my
local YMCA to children who spoke English as a second language.
My younger brother swam in the Olympics twice (2000, 2004), medaling
each time. In 2000 I became his “press manager” as I was too pregnant
with my
son to travel to Australia. Yes, I have held an Olympic medal.
Believe it or not, I do not like being the center of attention. I’m not an introvert, but I’m also not a “hey
look at me and all the awesome stuff I can do” kind of person either. Self-promotion is hard. Writing 11 random facts about myself is hard.
My husband taught me that you have to eat sushi three times before you
can decide you hate it (and seriously, why would you do that??) I fully believe his
theory. First try is,
“OMG, I’m eating raw fish”. Second try
gets you over the texture. Third try is
when you can say, “ooh…yum; I like this one!
I am not a huge television watcher, but my favorite shows are Big Bang Theory and Survivor.
I love to people watch.
I love to cook. I hate to bake, but I love to cook.
I had to be convinced to start this blog. It never occurred to me that people would be
interested in my experiences and insights.
I am humbled to learn that I was wrong.
I’ve always wished that I had learned
how to play an instrument, specifically the piano.
Guilty pleasure: I could watch Chopped on the Food Network over &
over & over….
Answers to Zachary’s Questions:
1.What’s the most memorable birthday card you ever received? The
most memorable was when I got the exact same card from my husband two years in
a row, and he had no idea it was a repeat! (Sorry, honey.)
2.How often do you vote (every election, only Presidential elections,
not at all)? No need to share your party affiliation! My voting patterns are pretty inconsistent.
3.Fill in the blank: Butter is to bread as jeans & a
sweatshirt are to me. (They’re a comfortable go-to, but not the only option
one could choose.)
4.What was the best concert you’ve ever been to? Lady Antebellum;
when I was also surprised with a Meet & Greet and time with the band after
the show in their VIP room.
5.Forget whether the glass is half full or half empty. What is in the
glass? Water…or a martini. Depends
on the day. ;-)
6.How does country music make you feel? Country music immediately makes me think of a
close friend who used to work for Country Music Television and reminds me of a
great trip to visit him in Nashville.
7.What is your go-to spot for a fun night out? A sushi restaurant
for dinner.
8.What characteristic makes your very best friends stand out from your
other friends? Trustworthiness, loyalty, good listener.
9.Name the last great book you read. I love to read, and I tackled a lot of books this summer, but two stand out: Out
of My Mind by Sharon Draper and Relational Judaism by Ron Wolfson.
10.Finish this sentence: When I hear someone reference Wikipedia I don’t
really have much of a reaction, to be honest.
11.What ordinary food item would you like Malley’s Chocolates to cover
in chocolate? Fritos
Here are the blogs (in no particular order) that I believe
deserve the Sunshine Award:
The first nine blogs focus on disabilities, inclusion, Judaism
or some combination of all three. The last two are faith-based, with messages
of including those with disabilities; and while I may not always agree with all
of the theology shared, I admire the way in which they share their positive
messages.
11 Questions to Nominated Bloggers:
If you
could cast yourself in any reality TV show, which would it be and why?
We are fortunate when we can look to mentors who guide us, encourage us and support us in our work. For me, one such person is Rabbi Lynne Landsberg. I would encourage you to read her story. She is an amazing role model, teacher and colleague, and I am lucky to call her a friend. I wrote a reaction to the Pew Study where I wondered if anyone even considered Jews with disabilities. Lynne wrote her own deeply insightful reflection: "The researchers at Pew asked important questions about Jewish
self-identification and affiliation, as well as questions about
child-rearing, attachment to Israel and remembering the Holocaust. As a
person with disabilities, I would have loved to have seen the folks at
Pew delve more deeply. I would have loved to see them ask questions
like:
Can you even get into your synagogue building?
Are you able to read the synagogue’s prayer book? Is it available in large print? Do they have one in Braille?
Are you able to understand the teachings or the sermon through an
interpreter or CART? Do they have an assisted listening device?
Does the synagogue’s religious school offer special-ed accommodations?
Can your family member access the facilities inside the synagogue’s building?
Our sages teach, “Do not separate yourself from the community.” However, Jews with disabilities are too often separated from
the community through no fault of their own. If synagogue leadership
could answer “yes” to the above questions, we could expand our reach in
deep and important ways. There are Jews out there who are “religious”
and want to belong."
It's time for us to do more than read Lynne's article and nod along. It is time to read those questions as a charge. We must do the hard work to be able to answer "yes" to all of them.
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It’s not
hard to teach our children to be accepting of disabilities.Children are naturally eager and excited to
learn new things.Like sponges, they
quickly absorb new words, concepts and ideas.Children learn through imitation, and as they grow older, they form
habits and opinions by repeating what they see and hear. Unfortunately, it is
just as easy to teach children to be unwelcoming, wary or even fearful of
people with disabilities.
When an
adult walks past someone in a wheelchair, turning his head to the side to avoid
making eye contact, the child next to him learns to avoid interactions with
people in wheelchairs.
When a
woman parks in the handicapped spot in a parking lot, she is teaching the
children in her car that the needs of those who truly need such spots are
insignificant.
When a
woman deliberately avoids the checkout line at the grocery store with a
clerk or bagger with disabilities, she teaches the children with her that
this person’s work means less than someone else’s.
When a
parent tells a teacher, in earshot of his own child, that he doesn’t want his
son in class with “that” child; he teaches his son that a child with
disabilities is less worthy of an education.
"Don't worry that children never listen to you; worry that they are
always watching you." ~ Robert Fulghum
What if
an adult looked the man using a wheelchair in the eye and said good morning?
What if a woman explained to the children in her car that the reason they have to walk a
little farther this morning is because there are certain spots saved for people
who don’t walk as well as they can on their own (fair isn’t always equal)?
What if a
woman deliberately chose a line at the grocery store for the clerk with a
disability, quietly explaining, outside the store, that they continue to shop
at this very store because of its inclusive employment policies?
What if a
parent told a teacher, in earshot of his son, that his son has already mastered
the math lesson and would be happy to help another child in
the class catch up?
Lately I
have wanted to explore more deeply the ideas of acceptance and tolerance.Both words are used quite frequently in
discourse about inclusion of individuals with disability.And while I have often heard these words used
interchangeably, they have distinctly different meanings:
Acceptance - the action or process of being
received as adequate or suitable, typically to be admitted into a group.
Tolerance - the ability or willingness to
tolerate something, in particular the existence of opinions or behavior that
one does not necessarily agree with.
Taken
straight from a Google search, this definition of tolerance can be understood
as “putting up with” someone or something with which you disagree.Based on this, I would automatically reject
the idea of promoting tolerance of individuals with disabilities.
Now there are other definitions of tolerance, like this one
from dictionary.com: “a fair, objective, and permissive attitude toward those whoseopinions, practices, race, religion, nationality,etc.,
differ fromone'sown;freedomfrombigotry.”And while this is a less strident definition than
the first, I still find myself associating a sense of negativity with tolerance.Advocates will tell you that inclusion is being welcomed and
embraced as a member who belongs.This
is acceptance.
I am not the only one who reads this subtle, yet critical, difference
between these two words, right?
Here’s the thing; I don’t want to be tolerated, I want to be accepted.Tolerating brings with it a certain sense of
pandering.“Yeah, yeah…go ahead, I will tolerate
it.” I tolerate root canal. I tolerate the cold while waiting for a train. I tolerate long lines at the supermarket. I do not want to be tolerated, I want to be accepted. Don’t patronize me, be genuinely nice.I would prefer it if you even liked me; but if you don’t, that’s ok, because
I don’t like everyone, either.I will
treat you with the kavod (respect) that you deserve, and I expect you to
do the same. You might be different from
me, and I might disagree with you, but I will accept that you are who you
are.
dan l’chaf z’chut - Judge every person
favorably (Pirkei Avot 1:6) and do not judge another person until you
have stood in his/her place (Pirkei Avot 2:5)
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I’m torn,
really.On the one hand, I REALLY do not
want to jump on the Pew Survey response bandwagon. Not at all.Even mentioning the study at this point
I run the risk of losing a dozen readers off the bat. There have been some
great responses to be sure, but far too many to keep up and if I am honest, my
eyes glaze over at the mention of yet one more response.
I do realize that some are using the research as a call to action, while others
are lamenting the woes of what it means to read statements like “the percentage
of U.S. adults who say they are Jewish when asked about their religion has
declined by about half since the late 1950s” and “secular or cultural Jews are
not only less religious but also much less connected to Jewish organizations
and much less likely to be raising their children Jewish.” Either way, I'm concerned that a distinct mark that has been missed.
Is it
possible?Can we give our children a
disorder?No, of course we can’t.And while the definitive cause of Attention
Deficit Disorders is unknown, experts will agree that genetics and distinct neurological
patterns are at play. Additionally,
there is much research as to ways that the environment, genetics, lifestyle
choices and other factors can both exacerbate and mitigate the symptoms of
Attention Disorder.
In an article titled, "Attention Must Be Paid! Schools need to teach students to maintain attention, not cater to short-attention spans," author Barry Schwartz makes some interesting and valid points.He states, “Again and again, we are told in
this information-overloaded digital age, complex and subtle arguments just
won’t hold the reader’s or viewer’s attention.”And further, “By catering to diminished attention, we are making a
colossal and unconscionable mistake. The world is a complex and subtle place,
and efforts to understand it and improve it must match its complexity and
subtlety. We are treating as unalterable a characteristic that can be changed.”
Is Schwartz
on to something? While we cannot cause a neurological disorder, can we
potentially exacerbate the symptoms of, or even mirror the symptoms of ADD/ADHD
in typically functioning students?
It’s a
scary thought, actually.
Schwartz asserts
that his focus is on issues of motivation, not the symptoms of
ADD/ADHD.Yet he continues, “Maintaining attention is a skill. It has
to be trained, and it has to be practiced. If we cater to short attention spans
by offering materials that can be managed with short attention spans, the skill
will not develop. The “attention muscle” will not be exercised and
strengthened. It is as if you complain to a personal trainer about your weak
biceps and the trainer tells you not to lift heavy things. Just as we don’t
expect people to develop their biceps by lifting two-pound weights, we can’t
expect them to develop their attention by reading 140-character tweets,
200-word blog posts, or 300-word newspaper articles.”
While
interesting, I do not fully agree. Since the advent of Twitter and those
140-character tweets, I am actually reading more about trends in my field (I
found Schwartz’s article, didn’t I?) and I am far more connected to colleagues
through what is referred to as a PLN (Personal Learning Network). Further, short
blog posts enable me to read more content, more frequently.I can sustain attention, but in my busy life
I don’t always want to.
What do you
think?Can we train our “attention
muscle”?Do we need to?What are the implications for educating
students with disabilities?And how
might this affect supplemental religious and faith-based education?
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On
Yom Kippur morning an amazing young woman came to our bimah to chant Torah.She happens to be blind.And while I eagerly anticipated what I knew
would be a stunning aliyah, I found myself really nervous.
Why
would I be nervous?This should have
been a moment of immense pride that the inclusive practices we have embraced
in our school could carry over into the congregation at large. And it was; yet I
found myself hoping that everyone in the congregation would be blown away by
this young woman’s abilities, not by what she accomplishes in spite of her
blindness. Yes, we are an inclusive congregation, but does this mean that every member of our congregation
is themselves fully open and welcoming to all? Here was a significant opportunity for the congregation to understand
inclusion more fully, yet I
was nervous because I didn’t want anyone to think that this young woman is a "poster
child” for our inclusive practices. She wasn’t invited to chant because she is
blind, she was chosen because she is an outstanding chanter.I was nervous that the emotions evoked by her
chanting would be disbelief, not awe.And
I was nervous because I wanted every worshiper to know what I know; that this
young woman is a gift to our congregation and to the Jewish people.
So
I watched carefully.I watched people’s
reactions when she was walked to the bimah and I saw people notice as
she placed her Hebrew Braille on the open scroll.I observed people's body language as they heard the
voice of an angel.I found myself sighing with relief as I heard low murmurs of positive assent and saw numerous expressions of joy. And I finally let out the breath I didn't know I was holding when I noticed a grown
man weep openly as she finished.
I
think it’s possible that after services her receiving line was longer than the
rabbi’s! When I finally found her, I joked that she had become a Yom Kippur rock
star.She chuckled at that idea…and in
her typical, unassuming way, shared her relief that she could now go back to
studying for secular school!
Yes,
we are an inclusive congregation. Not perfect, but aware and striving to
improve.I am so very fortunate to
be a part of it.
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Jewish music is powerful. It can engage us and connect
us to one another, deepening our relationships. Jewish music can connect us to
our memories with a single note, evoking emotions while transporting us to
another time and place. Jewish music can
help us to find our connection to God, touching our hearts and our souls.
The lyrics of our tradition have the power to teach, to inspire, to guide us
to find that better part of ourselves waiting to be discovered.
Olam Chesed Yibaneh (performed by Simone G., originally recorded by Rabbi Menachem Creditor)
For me, lyrics to convey the possibilities of inclusion: "I will build this world with love, And you will build this world with love, And if we build this world with love, Then God will build this world with love." (adapted from Psalm 89:3)
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It finally happened.After 21 days of #BlogElul I've hit the
wall.It is nearly 9:00pm and I am sitting down
at my computer for the first time all day.What kept me away?
My day started with a quick
cup of coffee & a run followed by visiting not one, but two, new schools
with my kids (my son begins Middle School and my daughter begins Intermediate
School). The afternoon brought the completion of a consulting project, curriculum
development with a teacher, and some administrative troubleshooting.Bar mitzvah lessons for my son and a late
dinner rounded out the evening, and here I am.
And so, on the verge of
saying something snarky, I plopped down on my couch and announced to my family
that I hadn’t even thought about today’s #BlogElul prompt.To my surprise, both my husband and daughter
chimed in with ideas.
My husband took dare and
wanted to go in the direction of, “Forget ‘normal’, dare to be different.It’s our differences that make us special.”Wow.I
wasn’t actually sure he was even reading my blog. (But credit where credit is
due…he was instrumental in helping me to name it.)
And then my ten-year-old
daughter blew me away.She said, “I want
to write about how kids treat kids with special needs. Will you put it on your
blog?" Heck yeah!
“Sometimes there are people
who are not very nice to other people.Like some kids will make fun of or not hang out with kids with special
needs. That is not nice. Just because someone’s different does not mean they
don’t have the same interests as you. You could make some friends even if they
learn differently or act differently. Go ahead, be nice. I dare you!”
And this just made my hectic
day perfect.
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Whether you're considering a small change to one
or two processes, or a system-wide change to an organization, it's common to
feel uneasy and intimidated by the scale of the challenge. You know that the
change needs to happen, but you don't really know how to go about delivering
it. Where do you start? Whom do you involve? How do you see it through to the
end?
When striving to make an organization fully inclusive, all too often, the
questions themselves can seem overwhelming, the task insurmountable.But when you really think about it, each one
of us is a change agent.We each have
the power and the responsibility to affect those around us.Change is a process, and we have to start
somewhere.Small steps CAN make a
difference.
One of my
favorite stories:
Once upon a time, there was an old man who took walks on the beach every morning.
Early one morning, he was walking along the shore after a big storm
had passed and found the vast beach littered with starfish as far as
the eye could see, stretching in both directions.
Off in the
distance, the old man noticed a small boy approaching. As the
boy walked, he paused every so often and as he grew closer, the man could
see that he was occasionally bending down to pick up an object and throw
it into the sea. The man called out, “Good morning! May I ask what
it is that you are doing?”
The young boy paused,
looked up, and replied, “Throwing starfish into the ocean. The tide has washed
them up onto the beach and they can’t return to the sea by themselves. When the
sun gets high, they will die, unless I throw them back into the water.”
The old man replied,
“But there must be tens of thousands of starfish on this beach. I’m
afraid you won’t really be able to make much of a difference.”
The boy bent
down, picked up yet another starfish and threw it as far as he could into the
ocean. Then he turned, smiled and said, “It made a difference to that one!”
Moving a
faith organization toward inclusion may seem like throwing back all the
starfish on the beach; but go ahead, start with the ones you can reach.
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