The movement in American education that is taking hold the fastest and is likely to have the profoundest-- and most destructive-- effect is not what you might think. It's the rush towards full inclusion of disabled children in regular classrooms.
Advocates demand that all disabled children be put into regular classrooms, regardless of their ability to function or benefit and regardless of the effect on other children in the class. And they are being successful. Full inclusion is happening quickly, all over the country, without substantial debate in state legislatures and school boards, through court orders and federal directives.
As a result, we are seeing medically fragile children and children with severe behavioral disorders placed in regular classrooms where teachers who have had little if any special training-- and get little if any extra help-- struggle to deal with the youngsters' special needs. This could mean suctioning mucus from a child's lungs or giving him a medicated enema. Or it could mean trying to figure out how to handle a child who bites and kicks others with no apparent provocation and shouts or cries and exposes himself throughout the school day. And all this while the teacher is attempting to give other students the grounding they need in math and reading and science.
Full inclusionists argue that all the supports that disabled children have in special education settings must follow them into regular classrooms. This is no more likely to happen for disabled children than it did for mentally ill people who were de-institutionalized years ago. Their supports were also supposed to follow them when institutions were closed, but the supports never materialized and now, as we know, many of these people are out on the streets. That's one reason why many parents of disabled children oppose full inclusion. They fear their children will lose the range of services now available and end up, like those who were de-institutionalized, with nothing.
We usually think of schools as performing three functions: imparting knowledge and skills; preparing students for the working world; and helping them become good citizens and develop socially. But those demanding full inclusion are interested in only one thing-- socialization. Teaching disabled and nondisabled kids to get along together is worthwhile (as many schools that don't practice full inclusion would agree) but it is only one value. And it's certainly not the only reason taxpayers support the schools.
Full inclusion is often justified by an analogy with the racial segregation practiced during a good portion of our history. Just as "separate but equal" always meant "inferior," inclusionists feel the same is true of any separate classes for any disabled children.
But the analogy is faulty. African-American children have the same range of abilities and needs as white children. They were excluded only because of the color of their skin, which was irrelevant to their ability to function in a regular classroom and benefit from being there. This is quite different from putting a blind youngster into a special class so he can learn Braille or excluding a youngster who is emotionally disturbed because he will disrupt the education of other kids-- while deriving little benefit himself.
Recently, I received a letter from Edward Martin, who was the first director of the U.S. Bureau of Education for the Handicapped and now heads an advocacy group for the disabled. He, too, opposes full inclusion, and he is especially troubled by the idea of making sweeping changes without any data or research to support these changes. Where are our figures on how well disabled students in regular classrooms do in comparison with those in special education settings? How many drop out? How many go on to college or vocational programs? Without this kind of information, we have no way of knowing what is working for these youngsters and what is not. "Special education programs," Martin says, "must be judged on their successes, not on our wishes for a more inclusive society."
Many disabled children can be, and are now, included in regular classrooms and, with adequate supports, many more could be. These decisions should be made on an individual basis-- depending on the nature and severity of the disability-- and remade if a placement turns out to have been wrong. And they should be based on what is good for all the children involved-- the children with disabilities and the others. But full inclusion makes no room for individual judgments. It is an ideological position that disabled and nondisabled children must always be fully integrated, regardless of the circumstances or consequences.
Some full inclusionists talk as though they are in a battle pitting the forces of morality against the forces of immorality. In reality, the battle pits ideologues who, without any evidence, would force destructive changes on our schools against people who believe that children's interests come first.