Picture a classroom where all of the children look, act and develop exactly the same. You won’t see extensive learning opportunities on the part of the teacher or the children. Inclusion is necessary for fundamentals to be learned and expanded. This is what my son, Daniel (who was born with Down Syndrome), brings to his daycare class and the other two-year olds he interacts with, just as they bring these things to him and each other. Daniel has been part of an inclusive classroom since he started daycare at 4 months old. He is accepted as just another child by the other kids in his class, and as a learning and teaching experience by his teachers.
Daniel’s teachers have learned much more about child development as they have seen even the tiniest of changes in what he does. With many other children, they progress so fast that these changes go unnoticed; such as the way your entire body has to learn how to walk up stairs, not just your legs. Or in the way your mouth, arms, hands and trunk of your body has to mold itself and build up muscles in order to drink from a straw or an open cup. This has allowed the teachers to creatively help other children who are struggling, know exactly what tips and tricks to use to help the others in the classroom as well as Daniel. They have realized that nothing we do is automatic, that our bodies adjust to even the slightest changes and as teachers, we can promote these changes in order to help with development.
Daniel’s friends (his classmates), benefit from this since their teachers are more aware of how a child physically develops. Many of them are learning to help Daniel, by holding his hand and looking out for him even though he is quite capable of doing most things on his own. They realize that Daniel isn’t exactly like them, just as each of them is different from the other. Is Daniel thought of as different or special? No, he is a part of their circle of friends and accepted be each person. This is what inclusion is all about; if acceptance starts with the little ones, then it will be part of the big world.
To this day Micah and I are friends. We talk regularly and hang out together. In June 2005, he danced at my wedding, and most recently he flew on his own to visit me in Chicago. We will be friends for life. Micah has a huge impact on me. When it was time to write my final paper during my senior year in college describing my approach and philosophy on teaching, nearly 30 percent of the content was about what I had learned from my relationship with Micah. He taught me that every student learns at a different pace. That students aren’t just in school to get an education, but are also there to develop social skills and lifelong friends. He challenged me to teach everyone as much as I can.
Now I am a first-year teacher in the Chicago area. I continue to practice what I learned about inclusion and friendships. There is a photo of Micah with his big smile in my classroom reminding me of what true friendship is and how important it is that every student in my classroom feels included. There is a young man with Asperger’s syndrome who is a student in my classroom. Although his needs are different from Micah’s, I often try to get him involved with the other students in ways that he might not do himself.
I believe that inclusion is a powerful tool that when used properly has a lifelong effect. I first learned it when I was a student in high school sitting next to Micah in science class. I am not learning it as a teacher in high school.
In my senior year of high school, all of my friends were talking about college. I would hear them say things like, “I got into the University of Michigan.” I realized that I wanted to be able to say that I got into college, too. I thought it would be a cool experience to be a college student. [In 2005], a new program started at Oakland University in Rochester, Michigan, for people with developmental disabilities. It was started by a few very caring people who thought outside the box. They are my parents, teachers, university people and me. It’s called Oakland University Transition.
My first day of college was a bit scary, but I got used to it. Overall, the transition was fun and exciting, and I had a good teacher who helped me make my dream to go to college come true. I take two buses to the campus and sometimes get a ride home with a friend. In the Oakland University Transition program, students like me take two to four classes and do volunteer job training exercises at the Lowry Childhood Education Center and the student radio station, WXOU. I also work at the Student Activities Center. We’re also involved with the recreation and social stuff on campus. I still have an IEP, and I have meetings at the end of every year, just like I did in high school.
I am reminded of an incident during one school year when a new student arrived and was not only new to the district, but also new to the culture of the United States, having lived in a different country prior to moving here. The Circle of Friends befriended him and asked him to join their meetings and activities. It was this group of youth that helped him feel welcomed in a new environment. This was a wonderful example of taking the term “special needs” to a new dimension…I think that these young people understand that there are many forms of special needs that need to be addressed and nurtured.
I moved to suburban Detroit from out of state toward the end of fifth grade, when I was ten years old. I found myself as the much maligned new kid amongst 75 or so children who’d been together since kindergarten. What easily could have meant disaster for my self-esteem instead became a love affair with my new friends. I was almost immediately embraced, welcomed, and included by Micah and his peers, a group known as the Circle of Friends.
It turns out that being the new kid is a blessing in disguise. I’m sure Micah at the time thought little of what he had done. But look, that’s the whole point! To him I was merely a new friend. A quick display of friendliness and compassion on his part meant the entire world to someone else, that being me. I won’t ever forget that day…Circle of Friends more than opened my eyes; it opened my heart and opened my mind.
I no longer see the world the way I used to see it. No more cool kids and weirdos or jocks and dorks. No more retards. Micah, his family and his circle have taught me to view and accept people as individuals without classifications. Just because someone stutters doesn’t mean they aren’t worthy of conversation. A blind man would certainly enjoy being read aloud to. Someone who can’t run so fast may still get satisfaction from being a member of a track and field team. A child who has poor penmanship could well be a magnificent writer. Luckily, the standards by which society measures people are evolving, if ever for the better…
Thanks to Micah and his Circle of Friends, I feel as though I am a better friend, a better person, leading a better life.
To this day Micah and I are friends. We talk regularly and hang out together. In June 2005, he danced at my wedding, and most recently he flew on his own to visit me in Chicago. We will be friends for life. Micah has a huge impact on me. When it was time to write my final paper during my senior year in college describing my approach and philosophy on teaching, nearly 30 percent of the content was about what I had learned from my relationship with Micah. He taught me that every student learns at a different pace. That students aren’t just in school to get an education, but are also there to develop social skills and lifelong friends. He challenged me to teach everyone as much as I can.
In my senior year of high school, all of my friends were talking about college. I would hear them say things like, “I got into the University of Michigan.” I realized that I wanted to be able to say that I got into college, too. I thought it would be a cool experience to be a college student. [In 2005], a new program started at Oakland University in Rochester, Michigan, for people with developmental disabilities. It was started by a few very caring people who thought outside the box. They are my parents, teachers, university people and me. It’s called Oakland University Transition.
This blog is written/edited by SpecialQuest community members and does not necessarily reflect the perspectives of SpecialQuest Birth-Five or funders. 
