Can you hear me now?

Recently I've been in Meeting Heaven (or Hell, depending on your perspective). It's all for a good cause though.

I consider myself an advocate for the education rights of Special Needs children, particularly those children with deafblindness.

One group I'm involved with is working on the Deafblind State Plan. The plan is a vision of what the future, in education, looks like for these kids. It has been seven years in the making, and we are wrapping up this year (touch wood). It feels good to provide input to these groups who care so much about our kids and then actually see it put into action (that last bit hasn't officially happened yet, but I'm being optimistic that it will).

In the other group I've been involved with, I'm serving as a fill-in for an advocate who has had scheduling conflicts. It has been a very interesting group, to be sure. The deaf, blind, and deafblind perspectives are being represented and are trying to work together for improving the education of these students with such special needs.

I've been amazed at the movement there is to separate the educational efforts into Blind only, Deaf only, and Deafblind-lumped-together-with-anyone-else-who-is-blind-or-deaf-and happens-to-have-additional-disabilities. This movement is coming from parents of higher functioning deaf or blind kids.

I'm sure they only want the best for their children. What better motive is there? But, it blows me away that they are unable to grant the same rights to all deaf or blind children. In fact, in their minds, a student isn't deaf or blind if they have other disabilities as well.

It is like they are saying blindness and deafness can only look a certain way, and all students who do not fit their skewed definition should be foisted back on the local school districts to fend for themselves. Without the supports of sign language, Orientation and Mobility training, or communication systems.

Parents who've been told that their children were holding back the progress of 'regularly-abled' children are now saying the same thing to deaf or blind children who also have other disabilities. It is the pot calling the kettle black. It is the segregation of the 60s and 70s coming back.

It is akin to saying, "I'm sorry, you're not 'pure' deaf or 'pure' blind, you may not sip from our educational fountain." And that kind of talk makes my blood boil.

I realize that these parents are merely advocating for what they think is the best solution for their children's needs - which is exactly what I do in these meetings. However, we go about it in very different ways.

Or, do we?

This experience last week has got me thinking, how do I sound to others when I am advocating for my son and other students like him? Am I offensive? Am I considering all view points, or am I narrow-minded? I'd like to believe that I am diplomatic and always keep the big pigture in mind, but that's probably not the reality.

I do know that I would never suggest that children who require more intensive methods of instruction are not worth the resources we expend in their behalf. I would never imply that my son cannot excel if certain students are in his classroom.

Rather, I tend to err the other way. If, for example, someone has a hearing and vision impairment, it doesn't matter what level of cognitive function they are believed to possess - communication is the major barrier to their education

It is not the student's fault if there is a failure in the system. Parents need to first come up with their vision of the future, and then they can make it happen. If they quantify the problem (how many students are there really who they feel are detracting from the needs of the higher functioning kids?), then we can figure out how to fix the problem (how many more teachers do we need to hire for everyone to have the best chance at success, and how much will it cost?), then that amount can be lobbied for

I'm afraid I'm not doing a very good job at explaining this movement. But, take my word for it, it's sending us back to the dark ages when people hid away the severely handicapped.

Well, not on my watch I tell you!