Last year, we moved the family from Wisconsin to London. Quite the task with three kids under the age of nine, but after being here for a year, exceedingly worth the effort. Being in London allowed me to oversee Mansfield Hall’s new study abroad program and the first (in the world) study abroad program for students with autism, in partnership with the University of Reading and turn the chapter to new adventures and ventures (more on that later). The world of disability in England is largely similar to the US, but in some better and some worse ways, averaging out to leave a lot left to desire in both countries.
Early on our adventure, I immediately noticed the phrase “Not all disabilities are visible” in various locations, like some seats on the Underground (subway). The phrase is a reminder to people that just because someone is sitting in these reserved seats, it doesn’t mean that their disability should be obvious to everyone, thus avoiding the death glares that may ensue. Rather, these are seats for people who need them, for whatever the reason.
All three of my kids and my wife pointed these seats out right away to me, as they do with most disability-related themes. I initially felt genuinely positive about this statement and the effort the city exerted to endorse this philosophy, but over time, these messages started to get under my skin on a larger humanitarian level. Don’t get me wrong, I support the seats and the larger message wholeheartedly, what bothers me is that we live in a society where we have to say it.
Everybody needs different things. Probably a phrase you have used when your kids point out the endless inequality they face when comparing themselves to their siblings or peers. We have gotten stuck in a world where labels and diagnoses dictate what someone can have access to. Recently, a family at our school was seeking an assessment from an occupational therapist so their child could receive an accommodation for writing assignments, allowing them to use their laptop rather than handwriting. Sounds legitimate, but my answer wasn’t where to get one, but why the school required it? If their child has an easier time writing on a keyboard, why wouldn’t the school just provide it as an option?
These dilemmas define special education; and as you may have learned from reading my book or attending one of my seminars, I’m not a big fan. There is no magical continuum of needs where students with disabilities need extra support and non-disabled students don’t. Everybody needs different things. When we evaluate accommodations, they benefit everyone. Some people prefer the ramp, some prefer the stairs. We don’t take tickets at the bottom to determine who gets to use which, we let people decide what they need or prefer.
Special education is just education with more strategies to support diverse learners. In most schools in the US, we have moved to an inclusive model where students receive these strategies in the classroom for the most part, but only those with a label have access to the strategies and accommodations that could be helpful for everyone. We know from my research and years of previous research, that students in classrooms, even college classrooms, that have students with learning disabilities in them, the students always rate the instructors more positively. Why? Because they are forced to teach to everyone and the strategies and adjustments in pedagogy benefit the entire class.
So yes, not all disabilities are visible. But more importantly, everyone needs different things. Shouldn’t we live in a world that recognizes that without having to say it? Shouldn’t we recognize that if there aren’t enough seats on a train that we should stand if we are able to allow others to sit? Shouldn’t we provide the accommodations and strategies for learning to anyone who would benefit from them? Instead we live in a bifurcated world where we only allow those, who have proof they need it, the grace of exceptions to the rules (we have created) that only benefit the elusive norm, rather than recognizing everybody needs different things and providing it.
So wouldn’t this diminish the rights of those among us who need the most? Quite the opposite. Because we’ve divided the world into two classes of ability, we have also framed the funding, construction, pedagogy, education, and countless other domains, a burden for those who don’t need it. Schools are limited in their resources for special education and developers bemoan needing to design buildings that meet the needs of people with physical disabilities. Yet everyone benefits from educational accommodations, extra help, elevators, ramps, and the big stall in the bathroom. If we as a society would recognize that we all need different things, regardless of what someone has been diagnosed with, we would live in a world where the funding and resources for “them vs. us” would be plenty for all. I just don’t think we should need a seat cushion to remind us of that.