First Person

School’s Out but Learning is Still In: Summer Resources for Families of Students with Learning Differences

As the final dismissal bells tolled to mark the official start of summer, thousands of students across the state headed home and won’t spend a moment more in the classroom for more than two months. For students with disabilities who may exit the school year at a reading level two or three grade levels behind, this hiatus can be especially devastating. But a break from school should not indicate a break from learning. Summer is a prime opportunity for parents to step in and help their children maintain and advance their skills to prepare them for the new school year.

Today, 5.7 million students across the country learn in special education settings. Here in Davidson County, where I’m a Ph.D. student in special education, 12 percent of the overall student body is comprised of kids with disabilities.

 I first came to the classroom as a Teach For America corps member, teaching reading to 6th- and 7th-grade students with disabilities. Since I taught many students for consecutive years, I remember the disappointment on the first day of a new school year when I’d learn that my students hadn’t opened a book all summer. Reading to or with your children is a simple, enjoyable activity that can be easily worked into a daily routine at your convenience. Students who struggle with reading fluency can practice reading aloud a book that is at or slightly above their grade level. Repetition of these word sounds establishes familiarity with vocabulary and increases the likelihood that their brain will be able to recognize similar types of word patterns in the future. For students who have difficulty with reading comprehension, parents can ask their children factual questions about the story they just read to practice literal comprehension as well as interpretive comprehension questions that challenge them to think critically about why characters made certain choices or how they might react in similar situations.

 Students who read significantly below grade level are often reluctant to read the books designed for them at their actual reading level. To ameliorate this problem, there is an entire genre of fiction and non-fiction books called “hi-lo” (high interest, low level) that caters to the older student who has difficulty reading at grade level but still wants to read books about relevant topics and relatable characters. (See Scholastic listing of their top 10 favorite hi-lo books.)

Summer is also a great time to take advantage of resources and supports available outside of the umbrella of the school system. Vanderbilt’s Kennedy Center — a University Center for Excellence in Developmental Disabilities — hosts Tennessee Disability Pathfinder, a user-friendly statewide database of programs and resources available for families across Tennessee. Their scope includes education programs, multicultural outreach, summer camps, recreational organizations, and advocacy and support groups available for people with disabilities of all ages.

Local branches of national organizations like Best Buddies and the Special Olympics work with students, teachers, and families to host events that support both community and school-based inclusion through local events and mentoring programs. AdditionallyTeach For America-Nashville is part of the organization’s national Special Education and Ability Initiative, which aims to strengthen partnerships between communities, families and special education corps members to help meet students’ unique learning needs, and further develop its national teacher training around differentiation and other key practices.

Parents of children with disabilities also have a unique opportunity this summer to participate in a statewide survey that will help inform legislators, service providers, school personnel, and policymakers of the areas of greatest need and resources and supports of greatest desire. Hosted by TennesseeWorks in partnership with the Vanderbilt Kennedy Center and more than 30 other disability-related organizations, this survey is open to parents across the state who have a son or daughter with an intellectual or developmental disability. The voices of at least 2,000 parents will be included as part of the Governor’s Executive Report in August. You may find more details about this important statewide study here.

Summer is a time of fun and exploration – continued learning naturally fits in. These coming months provide a unique opportunity to reinforce the gains students have made over the previous year, and set them up for success in the year to come. Let’s not let this moment pass us by.

First Person

I’ve been mistaken for the other black male leader at my charter network. Let’s talk about it.

PHOTO: Alan Petersime

I was recently invited to a reunion for folks who had worked at the New York City Department of Education under Mayor Michael Bloomberg. It was a privilege for me to have been part of that work, and it was a privilege for me to be in that room reflecting on our legacy.

The counterweight is that only four people in the room were black males. Two were waiters, and I was one of the remaining two. There were definitely more than two black men who were part of the work that took place in New York City during that era, but it was still striking how few were present.

The event pushed me to reflect again on the jarring impact of the power dynamics that determine who gets to make decisions in so-called education reform. The privileged end up being relatively few, and even fewer look like the kids we serve.

I’m now the chief operating officer at YES Prep, a charter school network in Houston. When I arrived at YES four years ago, I had been warned that it was a good old boys club. Specifically, that it was a good old white boys club. It was something I assessed in taking the role: Would my voice be heard? Would I truly have a seat at the table? Would I have any influence?

As a man born into this world with a black father and white mother, I struggled at an early age with questions about identity and have been asking those questions ever since.

As I became an adult, I came to understand that being from the suburbs, going to good schools, and being a lighter-skinned black person affords me greater access to many settings in America. At the same time, I experience my life as a black man.

Jeremy Beard, head of schools at YES, started the same day I did. It was the first time YES had black men at the leadership table of the organization. The running joke was that people kept mistaking Jeremy and me for each other. We all laughed about it, but it revealed some deeper issues that had pervaded YES for some time.

“Remember when you led that tour in the Rio Grande Valley to see schools?” a board member asked me about three months into my tenure.“That wasn’t me,” I replied. I knew he meant Jeremy, who had worked at IDEA in the Valley. At that time, I had never been to the Valley and didn’t even know where it was on the map.

“Yes, it was,” he insisted.

“I’ve never been to the Valley. It wasn’t me. I think you mean Jeremy.”

“No, it was you, don’t you remember?” he continued, pleading with me to recall something that never happened.

“It wasn’t me.”

He stopped, thought about it, confused, and uttered, “Huh.”

It is difficult for me to assign intent here, and this dynamic is not consistent with all board members. That particular person may have truly been confused about my identity. And sure, two black men may have a similar skin tone, and we may both work at YES. But my life experience suggests something else was at play. It reminds me that while I have the privilege of sitting at the table with our board, they, as board members, have the privilege of not having to know who I am, or that Jeremy and I are different black dudes.

It would be easy to just chalk this all up to racial politics in America and accept it as status quo, but I believe we can change the conversation on privilege and race by having more conversations on privilege and race. We can change the dynamics of the game by continuing to build awareness of diversity, equity, and inclusion. We can also advocate to change who has seats at the table and whose voices will be heard.

I remain hopeful thanks to the changes I have witnessed during my time at YES. The board has been intentional in their efforts to address their own privilege, and is actively working to become more diverse and inclusive.

Personally, I have worked to ensure there are more people of color with seats at the table by mentoring future leaders of color at YES Prep and other black men in this work. Jeremy and I also created Brothers on Books, a book club for black men at YES to find mentorship and fellowship. Through this book club, we can create a safe space to have candid discussions based on literature we read and explore what it means to be black men at YES.

When I think about privilege, I am torn between the privilege that has been afforded to me and the jarring power dynamics that determine who gets to have conversations and make decisions in so-called education reform. White people are afforded more voices and seats at the table, making decisions that primarily impact children of color.

It is not lost on me that it is my own privilege that affords me access to a seat at the table. My hope is that by using my role, my voice and my privilege, I can open up dialogue, hearts, minds, opinions, and perceptions. I hope that readers are similarly encouraged to assess their own privileges and determine how they can create positive change.

Recy Benjamin Dunn is YES Prep’s chief operating officer, overseeing operations, district partnerships, and growth strategy for the charter school network. A version of this piece was first published on YES Prep’s blog.

First Person

I’m a Bronx teacher, and I see up close what we all lose when undocumented students live with uncertainty

The author at her school.

It was our high school’s first graduation ceremony. Students were laughing as they lined up in front of the auditorium, their families cheering them on as they entered. We were there to celebrate their accomplishments and their futures.

Next to each student’s name on the back of those 2013 graduation programs was the college the student planned to attend in the fall. Two names, however, had noticeable blanks next to them.

But I was especially proud of these two students, whom I’ll call Sofia and Isabella. These young women started high school as English learners and were diagnosed with learning disabilities. Despite these obstacles, I have never seen two students work so hard.

By the time they graduated, they had two of the highest grade point averages in their class. It would have made sense for them to be college-bound. But neither would go to college. Because of their undocumented status, they did not qualify for financial aid, and, without aid, they could not afford it.

During this year’s State of the Union, I listened to President Trump’s nativist rhetoric and I thought of my students and the thousands of others in New York City who are undocumented. President Trump falsely portrayed them as gang members and killers. The truth is, they came to this country before they even understood politics and borders. They grew up in the U.S. They worked hard in school. In this case, they graduated with honors. They want to be doctors and teachers. Why won’t we let them?

Instead, as Trump works to repeal President Obama’s broader efforts to enfranchise these young people, their futures are plagued by uncertainty and fear. A Supreme Court move just last week means that young people enrolled in the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program remain protected but in limbo.

While Trump and the Congress continue to struggle to find compromise on immigration, we have a unique opportunity here in New York State to help Dreamers. Recently, the Governor Cuomo proposed and the state Assembly passed New York’s DREAM Act, which would allow Sofia, Isabella, and their undocumented peers to access financial aid and pursue higher education on equal footing with their documented peers. Republicans in the New York State Senate, however, have refused to take up this bill, arguing that New York state has to prioritize the needs of American-born middle-class families.

This argument baffles me. In high school, Sofia worked hard to excel in math and science in order to become a radiologist. Isabella was so passionate about becoming a special education teacher that she spent her free periods volunteering with students with severe disabilities at the school co-located in our building.

These young people are Americans. True, they may not have been born here, but they have grown up here and seek to build their futures here. They are integral members of our communities.

By not passing the DREAM Act, it feels like lawmakers have decided that some of the young people that graduate from my school do not deserve the opportunity to achieve their dreams. I applaud the governor’s leadership, in partnership with the New York Assembly, to support Dreamers like Sofia and Isabella and I urge Senate Republicans to reconsider their opposition to the bill.

Today, Sofia and Isabella have been forced to find low-wage jobs, and our community and our state are the poorer for it.

Ilona Nanay is a 10th grade global history teacher and wellness coordinator at Mott Hall V in the Bronx. She is also a member of Educators for Excellence – New York.