Adverse effects of the inclusion model

Why some teachers believe the line between special education and general education is beginning to disappear.

Originally published in the Moultrie News.

I saw a video where a teacher said there’s no difference anymore between special education and general education. Can you explain?

The teacher is describing a growing problem. The video references serving special education students through a process called “inclusion.” Students in this model generally have IEPs (Individualized Education Programs) related to learning, behavioral or other non-physical disabilities. Their IEPs mandate certain accommodations to help mitigate the impact of those disabilities. These can include time with a special education teacher, lesson modifications, extended time on assignments or tests or other classroom supports.

It used to be that these students would leave the general education setting for several minutes during the day to meet with their special education teacher. This was called the “pullout” model, because students were pulled away from their class to receive special services.

Inclusion is a “push-in” model. Instead of leaving the classroom, students remain in it, and the special education teacher comes to them. That teacher remains in the general class, helping the IEP students learn and aiding the lead teacher with accommodations.

This model can work well if there are only a few IEP students to assist. Remember, each such student has personalized needs and individualized accommodations. If all students are learning the same things at the same time, you can teach many students at once. If you have to teach them all differently, there’s a limit to what you can do in a class period — and a limit to how many students you can effectively support.

Teachers report that the sheer volume of IEPs in many classrooms is straining the limits of the inclusion model. Federal data confirms that while total school enrollment is shrinking, special education students have hit an all-time high of 8.2 million — a 12 percent jump in just five years.

That jump has outpaced the support provided by the federal government, whose stringent bureaucratic mandates govern IEPs, yet whose funding only covers about 12 percent of national special education costs. This means that effective special education instruction often requires more time, talent, resources — and teachers —than districts can provide.

The result is that “inclusion” in many classrooms has become something closer to “exclusion,” with the ratio of special education to general education students overwhelming the teachers tasked with managing it.

When that happens, it becomes almost inevitable to shift from teaching a general education class with a few exceptions to teaching a de facto special education class, slowing the pace and reducing the rigor for everyone, since you would have to do it for a large portion of the class anyway.

Look at it like this: Suppose you teach an eighth-grade reading class where 40 percent of the students are only reading at a third-grade level. Instead of creating separate assignments for that 40 percent, the temptation is to give third-grade-level work to everyone. It doesn’t sound right, and it isn’t. Teachers aren’t comfortable with it, but it is often a logistical necessity. The alternative is to teach multiple courses simultaneously or allow a huge portion of the class to fail.

You might think this benefits special education students. It doesn’t. One of the strongest influences on a student’s achievement is peers. In a class where most students are working hard, there is positive pressure to rise to the group’s level. But when most students are relying heavily on accommodations and teacher assistance to get by in classes already calibrated to be far less demanding, they lose motivation and independence. That dynamic works against what we should ultimately be trying to accomplish: helping students overcome their setbacks, not become captive to them.

The outcome can be even worse for general education students. When course rigor weakens, students are no longer challenged. If there’s no challenge, there’s no growth. And without growth, you don’t have an education. That’s one factor contributing to systems with 99 percent graduation rates and 10 percent reading and math proficiency.

So what needs to change? IEPs? Qualifications? Funding? More teachers? Laws?

Probably all of it. But a good start is to realize when an educational system is being overwhelmed rather than wait for its collapse.

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Jody Stallings has been an award-winning teacher in Charleston since 1992 and is director of the Charleston Teacher Alliance. To submit a question, order his books, or follow him on social media, please visit JodyStallings.com.