Talking Back

Anybody who knows me wouldn't be surprised to see me on the way to work this morning, gesticulating to the extent my little Yaris will allow, talking back to the radio.

My friends and family would be amazed, though, by the identity of my unseen and unknowing communicant. Not Glenn Beck or Rush Limbaugh - though come to think of it, those guys I wouldn't even be listening to, much less bothering to talk to.

No, it was NPR.

Somehow this was parenting and education morning. First, there was a story about the impact of losing the hearing in one ear, especially for kids and their learning. It's harder, with just one functional ear, to locate and understand speech, and thus compels sufferers to avoid noisy, chaotic environments. I design my own social life partly around that particular deficit; but I understand that children and adolescents rarely possess the self-confidence and self knowledge to adjust similarly.

But it was Joanne Silberner's second story that incensed me so. British researchers, she intoned a little victoriously, have determined, through a longitudinal study, that kids who have behavior problems in school, complain of more pain and ailments as adults.

"Doh!!" is what I said back.

I hang with kids who have trouble behaving in school pretty much all the time. Every place I've taught, the educational environment has been leveled: there are top-level classes, called SAIL or IB or just plain advanced; the mid-level classes, and then the classes where much of the work performed is remedial in nature, and the kids almost all struggle.

This is based on sound educational theory and practice; kids learn better in environments homogeneous enough to give them learning at a level they need. And it's particularly true in middle school, where the more basic learners tend to also be concrete learners, and require concepts to be explained in terms heavily reliant on the visual and kinesthetic.

Note that word, 'kinesthetic.' Because that also means that these kids are often wiggly. And wiggly often translates to bad behavior. It's just that much more challenging for a kid who learns through body movement to sit still and listen respectfully as a teacher or even another student has his/her say.

And what that means is that the basic classes where I hang my teacher shingle are also the classes where the toughest kids practice their most challenging behaviors.

So yeah, I know a lot of 'bad actors.'

They include 'Jeremiah,' whose arms are covered with burn scars from, my guess is a failed attempt at making fireworks more exciting, though for all Iknow he was heroically saving someone from a fire. Jeremiah has a blonde buzz cut and uses baby talk to let us know we're boring him. He requires a personal invitation to put even a sentence on paper.

Then there's 'Paulie.' He too makes lots of noise, and works hard to announce it to the world that he doesn't care if he gets into trouble. He's got an engaging smile, and his hand is up whenever there's a question he can answer. He tells me he loves to cook, and wants to be a chef when he grows up. I think he could be great.

'Henry' is about a foot too tall for middle school desks. I've learned to let him sit in any position in which he's comfortable. Most of the time, he just talks out in class - and until I started consequencing him by making him stay late, he announced, five minutes from the end of class, loudly, 'it's time to go!'
It's a small thing. It drives you crazy.

'Nick' just came back from a few months' expulsion. Just in time for CSAP testing. He's still got that 'glad to be back' diffidence about him. He's feeling things out, smiling, ingratiating. But he got expelled for hitting other kids. Hard. And today, once he figured out that he could, he just put whatever occurred to him for answers on the test. Because he had no idea of how to solve the math problems, or because he just didn't feel like trying? Who knows? I'm not sure even he does.

Finally, 'Ellwood'. A gorgeous child that responds beautifully to praise and a kind smile. But bore him, criticise him, at your own peril. Oh, and you better let him stand up whenever he wants to.

So what do all these character sketches have to do with Joanne Silberner's report?

They've all been suspended for bad behavior. And my guess is, they'll all have futures challenged by health problems.

It was her conclusion that bothered me, though. Fix behavior problems, and you'll fix health problems, she said.

Nope. Not that easy. I could put these kids in uniforms, set up reinforcement schedules, punish the slightest misbehavior (assuming their parents would agree) and I'd get well-behaved kids. But I'm not sure it would change their futures one iota.

These kids, if they finish high school, and even if they don't, are headed for minimum wage, at least for a while. You ever work at those jobs? Repetitive, physically challenging, and exquisitely boring.

This is a combination practically guaranteed to cause physical injury and/or depression.

Many years ago now, I did a stint helping people with disabilities find jobs. The folks who had the hardest time? Those who'd been hurt, had a lifting limitation of, say, ten pounds, few skills, and were depressed. It was almost impossible to find a job that would match these people's preferences, skills, and medical needs.

So, what to do?

The government white paper entitled 'The Forgotten Half" was written over twenty years ago. It addressed the problem caused by American schools' neglect of kids who are not college bound. The authors pointed out that these students graduate from high school with few marketable skills and prospects.

With the advent of 'No Child Left Behind,' things have gotten worse. High schools have few to no true vocational programs, except for those with echt disabilities; kids like Jeremiah are left in the cold. We make noises about community colleges, but to get through even a two year program, you need more motivation and energy than he'd been given. Jeremiah will languish; only pure luck will keep him from a stint or two in jail.

Of the group I listed above, I hold out the most hope for Paulie. He knows what he likes, hones his skills at home already, and is stubborn enough to go for it. Henry will probably help out at his dad's body shop and may take it over someday. The rest of them?

Chances are, at 25, they'll have some pain and ailments.