Special Ed "vs" Gifted?

"Autism and Education," a February 28th My Turn column in Newsweek by Stephanie Lindsley, hits home with me in more than one way. Lindsley's 8-year-old son is on the autism spectrum and "'tests in the 'severe' range in many subjects." He is partially mainstreamed in a regular classroom with an aide and benefits greatly from the individualized attention----as would, Lindsley notes, her 12-year-old daughter, who "tests in the 95th percentile nationwide on standardized tests" and is in the public school's gifted program. And, is so bored at school that she "often hides a book in her desk and reads" and "resents being drilled over and over on something she learned in 10 minutes." Write Lindsley:

I can only imagine how much my daughter would excel if she had a program specifically geared to her strengths, one that challenged her creativity on a daily basis. Or if she received even half the individual attention my son receives every week. What if she had a person sitting next to her to encourage her to think of new ways of doing things? What if her teacher didn't have to manage a large classroom full of kids, who didn't scold her for "making things confusing for everyone else"? What would happen if she spent all day in a room with two to six other gifted children, along with a couple of adults who specialized in pushing them to realize their potential?

There is no "government mandate" for gifted education, Lindsley writes. So what children are really being left behind in our schools?

i'm very familiar with the situation Lindsley describes for her son; my own son certainly benefits from the individualized education and one-on-one attention that he receives. While our school district has had to make some serious budget cuts, so far the special ed programs have yet to be touched, though I suspect this is inevitable.

But I also more than sympathize with Lindsley's daughter. When I was her age, I felt exactly the same way about school.

I'd been in gifted programs throughout elementary school and lucked out in the sixth grade, with a teacher who taught us about anthropology, the Inuit, and baboon behavior and encouraged me to write. Junior high in Oakland public schools was simply not challenging. I was in the hardest classes and learned everything easily and quickly, and was very bored and, eventually, miserable and frustrated. I guess you can say that I've been feeling more than empathetic with Charlie's adolescent and middle school struggles---I actually ended up switching to a much smaller, private school, where I did very well, and indeed received more of the individualized attention that Lindsley notes would be so helpful for her daughter.

School was only part of it, though. I read and read, and in the different languages I was studying. I only had to take one---French---and somehow managed to learn Latin and ancient Greek. I did a lot of writing (all fiction and poetry) and read more, novels and poetry anthologies, and collected works of poets.

Certainly it helped to go to a smaller school that was much more focused on academics, first and foremost. I suspect, though, that I would still have read all those books, and scrounged to learn as many languages as I could, and played viola in a youth orchestra. I equally suspect that without nearly nine years of education focused on his needs and individualized to his learning, that Charlie would not have come as far as he has----would not be a student (albeit in a self-contained classroom) in our local middle school, a kid who had a super successful dentist appointment early Friday morning (no cavities, what a relief) and raced to don his bike helmet and gloves for a chilly bike ride Saturday afternoon and who's started doing addition (on a calculator) in decimals.

It was a bit of a rocky road for me at times and often I had to make my own path, but somehow I managed. I don't know more of the particulars of Lindsley's daughter's education than are noted in the Newsweek article and I'm pulling for her---I do think all that reading she's doing is going to lead somewhere, yet unknown. I also know that, just a few years ago, the educational services for Lindsley's son and for mine were not at all available and it says something significant about our society, that we devote so many resources to students in special ed---that we provide teaching for students who, in the past and still all too often, are left far behind.