Supporting versus Sorting
This is one of several critical points summarised by Dr's Ramsey and Louden upon which we must reach some clarity and consensus. As a nation we face the same choices of our fellow human beings in other nations grappling with similar issues.(13) This is not only an Australian "problem" but also a universal phenomenon where a segment of every society (some smaller and some larger), is systematically excluded from the knowledge base of the nation because they cannot read. This restricts the opportunities that only arise by being literate(14) in a knowledge nation. Few who can read can imagine being restricted from the pure enjoyment as well as freedom one gains only by being able to read. One might say that being able to read and choose widely what we read fuels our radical individualism.
One of the questions before us is, should we exclude this or that group from this Inquiry based on their label? Some would argue "they" have their own "buckets of money" and should therefore not be included in this Inquiry. The argument extends to the creation of yet another label of student focussed disablement.(15) Will this take us to a better understanding of how to teach reading? Rowe in at least one section appears to join others who agree that it will not.(16)
For far too long (this being the 100th anniversary of the old I.Q.(17)) we have spent too much time classifying, predicting and fulfilling our prophecies of who may not read by virtue of their nature only to be proven wrong by the substantial research that now shows us that it is not one's nature that determines who will read and who will not, which stratagem will work and which will not... but who will have the teachers – be they parent, tutor or masterful professional – with the time, will and skill to stay with us until we have achieved automaticity.(18)
There is too much confusion around what a "learning disability" might be. Could it be a "teaching disability" (as it is listed as one of the possible "causes")?(19) If so, should we be labelling the child with a label for something that rests with someone else? Do we know what dyslexia is? Does it really matter that the student "has" Down's syndrome, ADHD, autism and the plethora of other labels - or can we turn the sorting of who shall read into support for all to read? In thinking about the profound impact that labelling of children has had in setting the mind-set of possibility against the maze of entitlement in determining who is allowed to receive help, I am reminded of a story.
This story is about a town where the water supply consistently made 30% of the town's children ill. In seeking solutions the town's people were torn. To fix the system would mean investing in an overhaul of its entirety. Too expensive said many, as it is fine for the majority of folks. Sub-systems that provided pills and reduced the suffering of some of the 30% argued that they would go out of business if the system were overhauled. The engineers knew that only an overhaul at the core would stop the suffering in the long run and yet they could gain no sectors' support for this work.
We face the same tough choices: - do we add yet another new label and create another new "bucket" to increase the assortment of salves and demarcate them from other labels and buckets, as if their labels are what matters, full well knowing that we could reduce the bulk of illiteracy for future generations? Or, do we endure the cost of fundamental structural reform? One path will lead to increased costs of sorting, then apply a salve to one but not another of the children who are not yet literate; the other path leads to supporting literacy for all. Ours is clearly the later.
Concentrating on Supporting versus Sorting: Advantages
If we are to produce a plan of action instead of a pile of words to be piled atop the 25 or so preceding inquiries(20), our work requires clarity of focus that avoids not only becoming embroiled in the reading wars but circumvents the sorting wars. As Dr Rowe points out in the draft document, we have no agreement on what would constitute a "learning disability"(21), even though, for some reason other than the evidence presented, it appears enticing to adopt this term. The field of specialist education, much like the field of literacy, is currently emerging from the constraints of a multi-millennial labelling war reaching back to the early Greeks who first conceived "idiot" and a social program based upon this enduring, albeit ill-conceived idiom.(22) What we know from this deep history is that those who have received labels have been those who have not received support for their becoming literate, rather they
have been separated from school communities and natural supports of children who can read and read easily. This war too is "over". The evidence base favours inclusion;(23) yet like the reading and resource wars, segregation breathes on the taboo of fear that we might all catch some contagion from those whom we have been separated - racial, impaired and in older days, even the girls.(24)
Argue as we may for and against the nature or nurturing locus of the problem (is it "in" the child or "in" her environment) and then converting these into an elegant array of labels of children, takes us no further in assisting teachers to understand what needs to be done to support all whom they find in their charge. Dr Rowe, supported by the plethora of persuasive evidence cited by others who have also examined this phenomenon, points out that no matter the label, certain critical attributes – when applied – work for all.(25) Dr Rowe also poignantly makes the point (9.2) that only a small portion of variance was accounted to individual difference of students; that "outmoded forms of biological or social determinism" whilst still pervasive are "little more than 'religious dogma'. A labelling war is therefore to be avoided on practical grounds, even if one cannot give up one's philosophical positions about where "the problem" lies and what we should label it – from impaired social structure to impaired human being and the multi-layers of positions in between. For some, maybe many, labelling the child with a disability when the setting in which they live may be the barrier; is inaccurate, unduly burdensome for the child to bear and blurs the focus of where we need to invest our interventions. It is elegant, as well as egalitarian (or at least adequate) to start from the position that all children unable to sufficiently read - should be enough of a label to trigger access to some of the nation's reading resources.
If, as seems the conclusion of the Draft Review of the evidence, teacher quality is the critical variable(26); why then do we not trigger resources using an identification mechanism of teachers who lack these qualities rather than look to burden the labelling upon the victim of these lacking qualities? (This should not be taken to be teacher bashing or labelling. Far from it. We address in strategies, teacher "self evaluation" as a more rational form of resource-trigger mechanism).
Putting a label between one's humanity and one's need to access a fundamental human skill is merely a resourcing war that converts an admirable and ambitious goal of making ALL Australians literate into a massive expenditure of sorting who may be excluded from the goal. This is not to say that once included in the goal of becoming literate that we cannot then match the plethora of promising practices with specific children based on their individual differences and hypothesise what might work based on their varying reading profiles.(27) This is not an argument of "one size fits all", merely an argument to include ALL who cannot read into the spotlight of our goal. Let me end this plea for supporting versus sorting with another story.
Fabian, a year 2 boy in the far North of Western Australia is one of these kids. He cannot read. It is quite extraordinary then that at 2.10 pm he heads to the library. Fabian knows there are computers in the library. He loves computers and thinks and hopes he may be able to learn more about reading and writing on the library computer. He sits down at the computer, which has the library catalogue system on it. In the search screen he begins to type in his name – he manages the first few letters then stops to untie his shoe and take it off. The librarian witnesses this and asks Fabian what he is doing – he ignores her question and turns over his shoe to look at the sole. He continues typing and she realises he is copying his name from the bottom of his shoe. He is so excited to type it in correctly as shown on the bottom of his shoe. He clicks on the search button and of course has no idea what the search result says. He knows enough to press the start over button and then reaches for a book and starts typing in a word from it. Once again the catalogue does not give Fabian the result he is after. Fabian, with or without good instruction... is in hot pursuit of literacy.(28)
Some of the critical questions we are left with in terms of a "problem" when we take the labelling away and discern to tackle the problem of the "elephant in the lounge".
Tool wars versus a war on illiteracy
The polarisations in the field have been described as "the reading wars". Although we have some indication of "peace" around the reference table, Dr Louden noted that the shape of this agreement is not yet clear. What clouds our vision of recovery of those children who are not learning to read appears, at least to us, to be related to the mistake of declaring war on certain tools of potentially teaching reading rather than declaring war on the real enemy - illiteracy.(29) The reading wars do show at least one thing: one method makes a very bold claim that all children can learn. It does not say some. It does not say only this or that labelled child – it says all children can learn.(30) We would much prefer to stake our chips behind a method with
positive assumptions that may fail a few, than behind methods with negative assumptions that succeed, when counting the casualties of this war. (Spiegel though is probably right. We need to build bridges across at least the most promising strategies.)(31)
Instead of using one of Homo sapien's distinctive abilities - toolmaking - we have instead made a few tools sacred and engaged in a modern rehash of making use of certain tools, taboo. Although I don't favour the moralising of the goal of reducing illiteracy to a "war", I believe it is at least more scholarly that we engage in an arms race to perfect tools to reduce the size and dimensions of illiteracy than it is to reduce our classrooms to a battlefield in which a feud over tools is fought.
Over the past 3 decades most human developmental science movements have moved to replace the over-emphasised behavioural-based sciences of the earlier period. The utopian dreams of making whatever we wanted of each student through operant conditioning were correctly rejected, however this was sadly accomplished not by superior evidence forcing in a new paradigm but by defining the scientific study of human development as a modern taboo.
Scientific evidence has been discarded by many in this field while the society at large demands increasing scientific evidence in most other aspects of life (e.g. demanding increasing verifications on environmental safety, medical and bio-medical safety etc.). However in this field - education - one needs only to read the passion of condemnation of attempts to measure certain aspects of human development (such as identifying numbers of children who cannot read in Australia) to appreciate that scholarship and moralisation have been on a collision course for some time.
Why are certain tools of learning – taboo?
Our position is that governments and whole societies have used certain tools to "poor" and sometimes "mischievous" ends and in so doing, alienated many from the evidence-based tools. The use of the old IQ (this year its 100th birthday) to separate and congregate large numbers of citizens is a classic case in point. Such mischievous use of the intelligence tool led English, Americans and Australians, as well as the Germans into a flirtation with eugenics from which we have only begun to recover.(32)
We removed children from their families, sterilised many of our girls (into the 1980's) and caste a percentage of children at first out of schools and later into segregated schools (from which we are only now recovering) on the basis of this testing. In other words, we used a test that could yield a rough measure of intellect's distribution to a child or person to segregate them from education rather than determine how best to teach the child to read.
This "poor" ends usage of this and other tests is still used to "gatekeep" immigration (its first use in America), "gatekeep" money buckets, "gatekeep" numbers applying to university, "gate-keep" which course a person will be allowed to pursue and so on, ad infinitum. It is easy, therefore, to appreciate the moralisation of the scientific measurement tools as taboo and others that attempt to measure human nature's distributions as well as human culture's effects on improving their conditions.
Scholarship requires that we return to evidence, for without evidence we have returned to an age of teach and pray versus teach and measure to discover "what works". However to return to such scholarship we must be diligent not to use the measures outside of the use to measure the influence of "what works", is showing promise or is not working.
We must choose our measurement and teaching tools based on efficacy, replacing our value of a particular method(33) (input) to value a particular outcome (e.g., leave no Australian, illiterate.). In so doing, we may appreciate that there may be a suite of measurements and methods that can achieve an evidence-based outcome.
Endnotes
![]()
Site Map | Contact | ©1993- in:press
|