This post contains affiliate links. If you search for ideas to teach diversity in the classroom, you will find dozens of articles about helping children to learn about and appreciate multi-cultural and racial differences. This is wonderful. This is important. This is necessary. And this is a missed opportunity to also teach about differences in ability. It is quite simple to weave in conversations of ability when teaching diversity. I have shared some great examples: Most popular: Teaching Diversity AND Inclusion – The Egg Activity My favorite (and the one I use in disability inclusion training most often): Teach Diversity Using Oranges And a great one where students can take the lead: Teaching Disability Acceptance and Diversity - A Survival Kit Here is another great activity you might use: Using M&M’s to Teach Diversity: Display a bowl of M&M’s. Do not let students touch the bowl or the candy. Ask: What do you see? What can you tell me about these M&M’s just from looking at them? (e.g. different colors) Are there any of these M&M’s better than the others? (acknowledge that some may have a favorite color, steer conversation to the value of the candy itself) Make the following statement: We are just like this bowl of M&M’s. We may appear different on the outside, but we are very much alike on the inside. Let each student have one M&M to eat. Ask them to bite into it, if they can, to look at the inside. Compare insides, noting how they are all the same. Say: We may like the red ones or the green ones best, but that does not mean the yellow ones aren’t as good. This is the same with people. There may be some people we like a lot, but this does not mean other people are not as good. The M&M’s are all made of the same ingredients to make chocolate. Just like M&M’s, people are all made of the same things. We all have blood, muscles, skin, a heart that feels, and yet we all look different on the outside. What if you were all the same size, shape or color? This class would not be as interesting or fun. Our differences are what makes life exciting. Highlight differences in ability along with difference in size, shape or color. Eat the M&M’s! As an extension: Read the poem Different. It can be read as a class and discussed, read in small groups and discussed, students can read and then write their own poems, etc. Different Hey! Hey! I’m just me! I’m different from anyone else you’ll see! Taller than John - shorter than Sue... Hair that is darker than Nancy’s too. Eyes not black or really green Nor really blue, but in between. I’ve got more freckles than Don or Fred. Jane reads better but I can add, And Jim runs faster (which makes me sad!) Johnny’s arms are chocolate brown, And he’s got the happiest grin in town. Judy’s arms are almost white And I’m dark tan - and it’s all right ‘Cause Johnny is him, and I am me, And Judy is Judy, plain to see, And we’re all as different as we can be! -Unknown What are some of your favorite activities for teaching diversity? How can you be sure to include diversity of ability? Never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

This post contains affiliate links. **Update August 2020 - It is possible to utilize or create a path to fully support social distancing. Such spaces will be all the more important if other practices are limited or modified. For virtual learning, we might support families in creating appropriate paths or spaces at home.** You may have seen the video that went viral of a young boy walking, stretching, and hopping along a path that a special education teacher designed, painted, and implemented in the elementary school where she works. She labored over the path for more than 80 hours, creating something special for the students in her school. A sensory path is meant to help a child use their own bodies and environment to calm themselves down. They use their muscles, breathing, and spatial awareness to make their way through the path and walk away from it reset and refreshed. When teachers know certain students in their class would benefit from movement breaks, they can allow students to leave class (in our space the students would leave with a madrich or madrichah - Hebrew for classroom assistant) and move through the sensory break path. It’s a preventative measure, geared toward improving focus and preventing disruptive behavior before it occurs. In our space we already have students who need breaks throughout the session walking laps around our building. I designed this as a productive alternative. If you’ve seen the sensory path that went viral (image above), it is quite obviously a labor of love, but it is also rather busy. In my opinion there’s almost too much going on. It's always important to strike the right balance between a positive sensory experience and sensory overload. I also think that while wonderful for younger children, this path would seem too juvenile for older elementary and middle school students, who might dismiss it out-of-hand. So, like many others out there, I designed my own. Also a labor of love, I might add; it just took me much less than 80 hours to complete. Rather than paint I used colorful floor tape that can be removed. (Additional items include: large footprint decals, red floor marking tape, green floor marking tape, orange floor marking tape, hand-print decals, spiral wall decal.) I was aware of the limits of our space. Most importantly, our supplemental religious school serves children in PreK through grade 12, so I was wanted to create something that would be appropriate for the variety of ages. All students can use the path from time to time, to ground them on days when they’re feeling hyped up, anxious, or overstimulated in class. As expected, the space was an immediate hit. The most rousing endorsement came from two parents; one who is a physical therapist and the other who is both an early childhood educator and the mother of one of our students who typically walks laps around our building. My favorite moment was when a few third grade boys came to try it out. One, after whipping through it, declared that it was “too easy”. I tried to explain that it wasn’t a race, but he wasn’t listening. Nevertheless, word spread fast and few minutes later the rest of the third grade class wanted to try it out, so back he came along with his peers. Before his turn he again declared, “But it’s so easy.” This time I shared, “It’s not an obstacle course, it’s a sensory path. Do you know what sensory means?” “You mean like our senses?” he asked. “Yes. Some people need a short break from their work to clear their head. Others need to get their blood flowing again so they can get back to work.” “OK,” and off he went, back through the path. As he neared the end I asked, “So, is your blood flowing?” “Yeah, now it is.” The value of using spaces like this, fidgets, or any other tool meant to help a student find success is the context in which the tool is presented. Using the language of “this is a tool to help you” or “let’s take a sensory break,” enables students to more effectively speak about their needs and advocate for themselves in productive and meaningful ways. I think one of our third grade girls had the most important insight of the day: As she completed the path she declared, “Oh, these need to be EVERYWHERE. I’m telling my mom we need one in our house.” For more research on the benefits of sensory breaks read: The Impact of Sensory-Based Movement Activities on Students in General Education. Updated June 2019: ***NEW*** To keep this space interesting for our students I added new elements (and will aim to do so each year). I purchased the spiral sticker and hand-print stickers below. Here are pictures of how this new pieces look: Here are all the products I used to create this space: Contact me to design a sensory break space for your setting or for additional professional development in using such tools effectively. Never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

Overcome stumbling blocks to quilting more productively by limiting quilting perfectionism

There’s a significant uptick of energy in the Jewish Disability World right now. People are talking about this issue in ways they never have before - and organizations are (finally!) making commitments to change. At Temple Beth-El in Hillsborough, New Jersey we are not perfect, but I am so proud to be an integral part of a community that is committed to this ideal and is continually striving to improve. We have always done this work because it is the right thing to do. We have made commitments of both time and money because no one should be left on the outside of congregational life. Ever. We do not do this work for the fanfare and certainly not because we owe it to someone. We do it because we owe it to EVERYONE. We all benefit when our communities are truly inclusive. It really is exciting to go to work every day and think about what we do well, while helping to discover ways that we can do it even better. But even though we don't do this work for the praise or recognition, there is no question that kavod (respect) for hard work and commitment is significant. I genuinely appreciate that our congregation had the opportunity to be honored at the recent URJ Biennial as an Exemplar Congregation is Disability Inclusion. It was a joy to celebrate our accomplishments and it was special to be surrounded by others committed to this holy work. At TBE we will use this honor as a springboard to continue to move forward, finding ever more ways to widen our reach and welcome everyone. Inclusion matters. It's not a favor we do. It's not a program or a classroom or a social action project. Inclusion is a state of mind. Because, quite frankly, what still stands in the way of inclusion in most communities is attitude: "The biggest barrier to creating an inclusive program is not the lack of resources, knowledge, or accessible facilities. The biggest barrier is actually one of attitude...we must understand that inclusion is first and foremost a philosophy. It is a mindset and a belief that everyone has value and something to contribute. It is a willingness to see the ability in everyone and match skill with challenge. It is an understanding that what our programs really provide at their heart is the opportunity to build relationships, learn who we are, and develop skills. It is being committed to the process of making our programs accessible — not only in the physical sense, but also by ensuring that each person’s participation is meaningful….Once we understand that inclusion is not a place, a program, or a time-limited opportunity, and that it is a state of being and a way of operating that says “all are welcome,” we can overcome the practical barriers of resources, knowledge, and accessible facilities." ~ ACA (American Camping Association) When we embrace that inclusion is who we are and who we want to be, we can always figure out how to make it happen. Don't miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

This is the time of year when teachers are busy setting up their classrooms and preparing for the new year ahead. The focus is on designing welcoming spaces and thinking about ways to create a positive learning climate. In addition to the content preparation, student background and decorations, teachers need to focus on ways to develop positive, healthy relationships both with and among their students. These relationships are at their best when they are built on a foundation of trust. In Building Trust in a Classroom I shared four ideas for making this a reality: rarely use the word wrong, develop an atmosphere of trust rather than simply talking about it, demonstrate emotional consistency and foster a joyful classroom. However, it is often so much easier to talk about these ideas than it can be to actually do them. I am often asked HOW. Teachers may fully understand the concept and want to do this successfully, but they seek to learn the best activities for building trusting relationships. “The best activities” is subjective. Any expert teacher can suggest their favorites. And of course we should share these ideas widely with one another. But what makes any activity the “best” is a combination of a teacher’s personality and teaching style, student personalities, the dynamic between students, preparation and a myriad of other logistic factors. I frequently share the activity in A Lesson to Build Relationships as it is terrific with older elementary students, middle school students and teens. Here is another activity designed for young elementary and preschool-aged children. Buddy Walk to Build Trust Design a simple obstacle course with objects and items that you have readily available. Teach the word/idea trust to students. Demonstrate the obstacle course to the children. Pair children and explain that they will need to trust their partner to help them through the obstacles. Have children work through the course. Teacher should float through the activity using the language of trust to encourage, support and assist students as needed. Pairs switch so the other partner can go through the course. Bring group back together and reflect on the experience, highlighting the ways that trust was successful and brainstorming ways to improve where trust was more challenging. Variation: For slightly older students (grades 3-4), one partner can be blindfolded as the other leads him/her through the course. Do not blindfold any student who is fearful. Again, the "best" activity for your classroom will be the one you work hard to plan, think through and enjoy along with your students. What are some of your favorite activities for building trusting relationships? Never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

I was reading a well-known and highly regarded book about a significant Jewish spiritual practice when I stumbled onto the following passage: The Hebrew term for gratitude is hakarat ha’tov, which means, literally, “recognizing the good.” The good is already there. Practicing gratitude means being fully aware of the good that is already yours. If you’ve lost your job but you still have your family and health, you have something to be grateful to be grateful for. If you can’t move around except in a wheelchair but your mind is as sharp as ever, you have something to be grateful for. If your house burns down but you still have your memories, you have something to be grateful for. If you’ve broken a string on your violin, and you still have three more, you have something to be grateful for. I was instantly struck by the ableism in this passage. I really wanted to be wrong, so I quickly snapped a photo and sent it off to a trusted friend/colleague/disability advocate who confirmed what I already knew. Her words, “That line is so problematic. People are so quick to pit physical and cognitive disabilities against one another and to create an arbitrary hierarchy of disability. There were so many other examples the author could’ve used. I agree with you - that one misses the mark entirely.” Sigh. I became profoundly sad, realizing thousands of my colleagues - clergy, educators, and other prominent leaders - have read these words and absorbed them matter-of-factly, moving on to the other “more important” messages of the book. THIS is the pervasiveness of ableism, and I think the first step toward eliminating it is for each of us to come to recognize it. So let’s start from the beginning. Ableism is defined by The Center for Disability Rights, Inc. as a set of beliefs or practices that devalue and discriminate against people with physical, intellectual, or psychiatric disabilities and often rests on the assumption that disabled people need to be 'fixed' in one form or the other. An ableist society treats non-disabled people as the standard and allows for discrimination to occur against those who are disabled by inherently excluding them. We also need to understand the difference between the medical and social models of disability to fully recognize ableism. The medical model (most common way to define disability) states that people are disabled based on their impairments or differences. This places the “problem” of disability on the disabled individual, making it their responsibility to “fix” themselves in order to participate in an able world. The social model of disability, however, helps us to reframe our understanding of disability as a product of social and physical environments. A wheelchair user is fully able in their home that accommodates them. It is only when faced with a building without ramps that they become disabled (unable to participate). Viewing disability through the medical model can promote ableism. Here are two clear examples of ableism: 1) While some think having wheelchair ramps is sufficient, true accessibility accommodates all types of disabilities. This includes Braille, seeing-eye dogs/assistant dogs, ergonomic work-spaces, easy to grip tools, closed captions, class note-takers, recording devices for lectures, etc. Expecting individuals with disabilities to develop their own workarounds to any number of barriers is both condescending and discriminatory. A lack of access to places and services open to able-bodied counterparts, even with laws in place to prevent such inequality, is ableism. 2) Ableism is embedded in the English language. Words like “lame”, “crazy”, and “idiot” have a history of discrimination toward people with disabilities and perpetuate the assumption that disability is a detriment. The language we use towards and about disabled individuals (“wheelchair bound,” “suffering from”) disregards their autonomy. Equally as significant as the language used is what the use of such words & phrases suggests the speaker feels about the individuals these represent. When a society's language is full of pejorative metaphors about a group of people, those individuals are more likely to be viewed as less entitled to rights such as housing, employment, medical care, and education. The use of language that perpetuates the assumption that disability is a detriment is ableism. So what can we do about ableism? We must work to make sure there is always a seat at the table for everyone. Then we need to consistently check ourselves to be sure we treat people with disabilities with kindness, dignity, and respect once they are at the table. Combating ableism can be as simple as treating disabled people as you would anyone else. Educate yourself about disability. If you don’t have a disability or you’re not close to a person with a disability, take it upon yourself to learn. Remember that disabilities come in a wide array of shapes & sizes and affect people in many different ways. Part of being a good ally is arming yourself with knowledge about the issues and challenges people with disabilities face every day. Interact with disabled people. Many people are afraid to interact with a disabled person for fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. First, understand that someone with a disability is just a person. Like anyone else, they have unique personality traits, likes and dislikes, and hopes and dreams. They have good days and bad days. They might crave social interaction during certain times and prefer a quiet space or a break from talking at others. Treat disabled people the way you would like to be treated. Ask before offering assistance; don’t assume a person wants or needs help. Speak directly to a person with a disability rather than to their caregiver or companion; don’t treat the person as a child or someone to be pitied. Treat assistance and service animals with respect, recognizing that they are working animals, not pets. Finally, refrain from being too inquisitive about an individual’s disability. Check your language use. Casual conversations have the ability to perpetuate the assumption that disability is a negative experience just as much as formal language use, if not potentially more so. We need to be aware of and stop using such phrases as “wheelchair bound,” “suffering from,” and words such as, “blind,” “idiot,” “moron,” and “crazy”. Becoming aware of our own speech is a huge step toward recognizing and eliminating ableism. Finally, speak out. It may not be easy, but pointing out ableist language and behavior to others in kind and respectful ways can help them to recognize and make their own changes as appropriate. I realize that my next step must be to reach out to the author of the prominent book I mentioned at the beginning of this post. I hope that pointing out the ableist language he used will help him to understand so that he shifts his language going forward. What steps will you take to eliminate ableism? Make sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

This post contains affiliate links. **Update August 2020 - It is possible to utilize or create a path to fully support social distancing. Such spaces will be all the more important if other practices are limited or modified. For virtual learning, we might support families in creating appropriate paths or spaces at home.** You may have seen the video that went viral of a young boy walking, stretching, and hopping along a path that a special education teacher designed, painted, and implemented in the elementary school where she works. She labored over the path for more than 80 hours, creating something special for the students in her school. A sensory path is meant to help a child use their own bodies and environment to calm themselves down. They use their muscles, breathing, and spatial awareness to make their way through the path and walk away from it reset and refreshed. When teachers know certain students in their class would benefit from movement breaks, they can allow students to leave class (in our space the students would leave with a madrich or madrichah - Hebrew for classroom assistant) and move through the sensory break path. It’s a preventative measure, geared toward improving focus and preventing disruptive behavior before it occurs. In our space we already have students who need breaks throughout the session walking laps around our building. I designed this as a productive alternative. If you’ve seen the sensory path that went viral (image above), it is quite obviously a labor of love, but it is also rather busy. In my opinion there’s almost too much going on. It's always important to strike the right balance between a positive sensory experience and sensory overload. I also think that while wonderful for younger children, this path would seem too juvenile for older elementary and middle school students, who might dismiss it out-of-hand. So, like many others out there, I designed my own. Also a labor of love, I might add; it just took me much less than 80 hours to complete. Rather than paint I used colorful floor tape that can be removed. (Additional items include: large footprint decals, red floor marking tape, green floor marking tape, orange floor marking tape, hand-print decals, spiral wall decal.) I was aware of the limits of our space. Most importantly, our supplemental religious school serves children in PreK through grade 12, so I was wanted to create something that would be appropriate for the variety of ages. All students can use the path from time to time, to ground them on days when they’re feeling hyped up, anxious, or overstimulated in class. As expected, the space was an immediate hit. The most rousing endorsement came from two parents; one who is a physical therapist and the other who is both an early childhood educator and the mother of one of our students who typically walks laps around our building. My favorite moment was when a few third grade boys came to try it out. One, after whipping through it, declared that it was “too easy”. I tried to explain that it wasn’t a race, but he wasn’t listening. Nevertheless, word spread fast and few minutes later the rest of the third grade class wanted to try it out, so back he came along with his peers. Before his turn he again declared, “But it’s so easy.” This time I shared, “It’s not an obstacle course, it’s a sensory path. Do you know what sensory means?” “You mean like our senses?” he asked. “Yes. Some people need a short break from their work to clear their head. Others need to get their blood flowing again so they can get back to work.” “OK,” and off he went, back through the path. As he neared the end I asked, “So, is your blood flowing?” “Yeah, now it is.” The value of using spaces like this, fidgets, or any other tool meant to help a student find success is the context in which the tool is presented. Using the language of “this is a tool to help you” or “let’s take a sensory break,” enables students to more effectively speak about their needs and advocate for themselves in productive and meaningful ways. I think one of our third grade girls had the most important insight of the day: As she completed the path she declared, “Oh, these need to be EVERYWHERE. I’m telling my mom we need one in our house.” For more research on the benefits of sensory breaks read: The Impact of Sensory-Based Movement Activities on Students in General Education. Updated June 2019: ***NEW*** To keep this space interesting for our students I added new elements (and will aim to do so each year). I purchased the spiral sticker and hand-print stickers below. Here are pictures of how this new pieces look: Here are all the products I used to create this space: Contact me to design a sensory break space for your setting or for additional professional development in using such tools effectively. Never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

This post contains affiliate links. One of the most popular posts on this blog is called Fair Isn’t Equal. In it I include a wonderful graphic that helps to illustrate the difference between the concepts of fairness and equality. Most people believe that “fairness means that everyone gets the same”; whereas in reality “fairness means that everyone gets what he or she needs.” Further, fairness is one of the most commonly used arguments against inclusion. “Teaching students of different abilities in the same class isn’t fair to those who can move at a quicker pace,” or “It’s not fair to hold back some students to prevent others from falling behind.” The best way to accommodate students of varying abilities in the same learning environment is through differentiated instruction; a methodology which enables students to progress at their own pace via activities that are developmentally appropriate. I also firmly believe in transparency. I think that the methodology and the premise behind it should be shared with students, enabling them to understand and support one another more fully. "The Band-Aid Activity" is not something that I created; but it is a successful way to help students understand the concept of fairness (versus equality) in a differentiated classroom. The Band-Aid Activity Distribute “injury cards” to students (index cards with various injuries listed one per card). Ask students, one at a time, to share their injury, giving each student a band-aid (regardless of the injury). If anyone complains or questions the band-aid, simply say that it would not be fair if everyone did not get the same thing. Questions for discussion: Was it equal that everyone got a Band-Aid? Was it fair that everyone got a Band-Aid? Why or why not? (Everyone getting the same thing wasn’t fair because it didn’t help most of the students. Sometimes students will do different things in class, but everyone is learning and getting what they need. It is important not to make anyone feel bad about doing something different.) Depending upon the age of the students: What other things in the classroom are our “injuries” like? What else can the Band-Aids be compared to? (The Band-Aids are like getting the help you need in class. When a teacher is working with a small group or individual student, interrupting or distracting them is like taking away the student’s Band-Aid.) **Variation: Give all but the last student a band-aid. Add in a discussion of how it felt to be the only one without a band aid. There can be other variations of the activity depending upon the age of the students, but this can certainly be used in a discussion format with middle school students and teens. And here is a terrific link to a blog explaining this lesson in action with young children. Do you have any great activities for teaching fairness? Sign up here to be sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

Each year the congregation where I am an Education Director joins with a few others to run a retreat for young high school students. We spend Shabbat together outside the walls of our synagogues and we sing, pray, learn, play, laugh and build community. We have been fortunate to be able to offer an extensive special education program within our religious school for the past twelve years. Including students from our school that have special needs and ensuring that they are fully included in this retreat experience is a high priority for me. So I’d like to share a story. Our weekend retreat was well under way and it was lunchtime on Shabbat. I stood in line alongside a student from my school that happens to be blind. A young man from another synagogue stood in front of us and offered to let us go ahead of him because he “certainly didn’t need to get to the food first.” (This was a young man who is often misunderstood and judged based on his appearance and weight, rather than the quality of his character.) My student leaned in to me to say that she didn’t understand what he meant. I had to explain to her that he had just made a self-deprecating remark about himself in reference to his weight. Her response was “Oh”, and while it was clear that this made her feel bad, she just had no real frame of reference for what he was saying. And that’s when it dawned on him. I watched his face light up, his whole demeanor change and he addressed his next comment to my student directly. “Wow,” he said to her, “You are so lucky! You never have to judge people on their appearances!” I won’t lie, I still get goose bumps. And honestly? The weekend could have ended there and I would have considered it a success. Rabbi Chanina taught, "I have learned much from my teachers. I have learned more from my colleagues than my teachers. But I have learned more from my students than from all of them." (B. Talmud, Taanit, 7a) Don’t ever let anyone tell you that inclusion “takes away from” the learning of the other students. It’s just wrong. Don't miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

You have likely seen some version of this visual: This really got me thinking about the concept of fairness. How do we, as a society, determine what is fair? Joe’s caption reminded me of a quote from Rick Lavoie, a professional who works with teachers and students with learning disabilities. Lavoie suggests that the definition of “fairness” is really quite different from what most people believe. Most people believe that “fairness means that everyone gets the same”; whereas in reality “fairness means that everyone gets what he or she needs.” Look at the image; there is nothing unfair about the picture to the right, is there? Nevertheless, it has been my experience that people most often determine fairness through equality. If you ask my kids, equal is fair. They each want the same amount of ice cream for dessert. They want the same amount of spending money at the mall. And if one has a sleepover, the other somehow feels entitled to one, too. Are they right? Is equal the only measure of what is fair? What if one of my kids ate a birthday cupcake from a classmate at school; is it still fair that she have the same amount of ice cream as her brother? Let’s extend this concept to education. In a classroom of 4th graders all students are expected to read the same Hebrew prayer and master it by the same due date. This is certainly equal; but is this fair? One of the criticisms of inclusion that I have heard most often is of fairness: “It's not fair to have different expectations for different students.” Why not? Using the same Hebrew example, what if a student hasn’t yet grasped the concepts covered by the assignment? Is it unfair to extend the due date to allow for remediation? And if a student excels, shouldn’t that student have the opportunity to move forward and be challenged? Meeting each child where they are currently functioning is never unfair to the other students. When we determine fairness based on need we capitalize on an educational philosophy that is not only fair, but helps all students to reach their full potential. Not a predetermined potential that we expect all students to eventually reach; but their own individual potential. This is the premise upon which differentiated instruction is based. Fair isn’t equal. Fair is ensuring that everyone receives what he or she needs. Sign up here to be sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

In Teach Your Children to Be Accepting of Disabilities, I wrote about the way our children learn from the adults around them. When we are truly inclusive in our daily lives, the children around us acquire this same skill comfortably and easily. In that same article, I shared ways that adults might reframe their own behavior to model inclusivity for children. Yet modeling does not replace the need to directly teach these skills. In a post called “The "New and Improved" Digital Citizenship Survival Kit”, Craig Badura, PK-12 Technology Integration Specialist for Aurora Public Schools in Aurora, Nebraska, describes a terrific activity for teaching appropriate online behavior. And, of course, after bookmarking it and thinking about how I might weave in Jewish text to create a program for our post b’nei mitzvah students, my brain went to how this might be used to intentionally teach children to be accepting of disabilities and diversity. (As an aside, for those still using simulations to teach disability awareness, I urge you to rethink your position: Rethinking Disability Simulations) Teaching Disability Acceptance and Diversity Survival Kit: Toothpaste Used for lessons on bullying, online behavior and more, a tube of toothpaste presents an outstanding visual image. Have students squeeze a small amount of toothpaste out of their tube (or demonstrate for the class with one tube). Then instruct them to put it back into the tube (have students take turns trying with yours if you only have the one example). Kids will quickly realize that this is virtually impossible; and that’s the point. Our words or behaviors toward another person, once out there, are virtually impossible to take back. Packet of Seeds A seed packet is used to stress that what students are doing now will have an impact on their lives in the future. We want our students to think about the "seeds" that they are sowing as they interact with others in the world around them. Will their behavior grow into a bigger problem? Or will they take the opportunity to grow a plant that will be a strong, positive representation of who they are? Mirror Every time you interact with someone; imagine a mirror attached to the other person. Are you behaving and speaking in a way that is consistent with the value of b’tzelem elohim (being created in God’s image?) If you looked in the mirror and saw a friend, a parent or another significant person in the reflection, would they approve of what you are doing or saying? Sheet of Paper This is possibly the most powerful item in the kit. Take a new sheet of paper and hand it to a student, instructing him/her to crumple it up into a ball. Have her throw it on the ground and stomp on it, then ask her to pick it up and unravel it in front of the class. Finally, direct her to apologize to the piece of paper for destroying it. Be prepared for some strange looks and laughter from the rest of the class. After the student apologizes to the piece of paper explain to the students that the piece of paper represents a person who has been embarrassed, harassed or even just consistently ignored because he/she has a disability. We can apologize all we want, but the emotional scars DON'T go away. I’d love to hear from you! What would you add to the survival kit? Be sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

Smiling is free. The choice to smile is always in your control. Smiling can make you feel as good as the person to whom you direct it. “Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.” ~ Thich Nhat Hanh “All the statistics in the world can't measure the warmth of a smile.” ~ Chris Hart Subscribe to Removing the Stumbling Block so you never miss a post:

There is no doubt in my mind that EVERYONE has the ability to learn. We just each go about it differently. From Proverbs, “Teach a child according to his/her own way,” but how do you discover a learner’s “way”? One thought is that a child’s “way” is his/her learning style. Learning style is defined as an individual’s preferred mode of gaining knowledge. There are three basic learning styles that are most widely utilized; visual, auditory and kinesthetic. However, four additional categories are also generally accepted; social, logical, verbal and solitary. I know that I am primarily a visual learner. How do I know this? When one of my children yells out to me, “Hey mom, what does I-N-S-U-R-M-O-U-N-T-A-B-L-E mean?” I will usually reply, “Come here…I need to see it.” Similarly, when attending a lecture or a workshop, I take notes or tweet about what the presenter is saying. For me, the writing (kinesthetic) and then being able to see the information helps me to retain what I have learned. We all use every learning style, but have dominance in certain areas. I demonstrated a blend of two learning styles above, despite first asserting my dominance as a visual learner. Further, our dominance is not fixed and can shift given the experience, and it is possible to learn or improve dominance in any given area. Using a student’s preferred learning style is a logical and effective way to differentiate instruction and improve student motivation and achievement. However, not everyone embraces the practice of teaching to preferred learning styles. In an interesting article by Reed Gillespie called “The Pitfalls of Learning Styles and How We Got Duped Into Believing in Them” he states, “Today I cringe when my well-meaning peers talk about using – sometimes even paying for – learning style inventories…” He goes on to assert that not only is there no proof that understanding learning styles improves learning, but that using them could actually be dangerous. He says, “Labels shape expectations, lead to exaggerations and perpetuate the notion that a student is not capable – or not as capable – of success.” Rings true for those of us involved in special education... My daughter handed me her most recent spelling test where she missed five words out of twenty. When I asked what happened she replied, “I’m not good at spelling”. Compare this to Reed’s story of John who struggles with reading and writing. Throughout middle school John is given opportunities to express his learning through art and drawing, as this preferred modality is where he excels. Yet, when he arrives in high school, John is ill-equipped to handle high school writing assignments and suffers poor grades. Reed argues that we have set John up for failure. And as I tell my daughter, being “bad at spelling” isn’t an excuse, but rather a wake up call, to improve her skills. What do you think? When we strive to teach children “according to their own way” are we missing the mark? Do we deprive our children of the opportunity to strengthen areas of weakness when we seek to cater to their strengths? Be sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

I recently wrote about the difference between joy and fun. I feel strongly that as a society we continue to conflate the two, leading children and others to believe that fun is necessary or “required” in order to experience joy. This is felt particularly keenly, I think, in the world of education. Too many educators are spending their time figuring out ways to make their lessons more fun rather than considering what would help their students experience joy. As I shared in that last post, I don’t care if my students have fun in my classroom. By the way, I know that they often do have fun, because many have told me as much. But I still don’t care. This is not my goal. My goal is to find ways to help my students experience joy. So I guess now you are expecting me to write a post that will tell you how to do it. Nope. I can’t. Because you can’t teach joy. I can’t say, “Try this – it will bring joy to your students,” or “This is a sure-fire technique to bring joy to any classroom”. The experience of joy is a personal, individual experience. It is unique to each person. No two students will experience joy in the same way, at the same time or for the same reason. And even the same person won’t experience joy in the same way twice – no matter how similar the circumstances. So what are we supposed to do? How are we supposed to make it possible for our students to have such experiences if all of the variables keep changing? Here, my friends, is where the link between joy and being committed to inclusion comes in. Helping children to experience joy will require an individualized and nuanced approach based on meaningful goals and is dependent upon a trusting relationship. Sound familiar? If you are committed to being inclusive, you can be committed to helping students experience joy (and, I believe, vice versa). Just because you can’t teach joy, doesn’t mean you can’t cultivate it. Be mindful. Be deliberate. Focus on relationships. Be flexible. Pay attention to detail. Breathe. Most importantly, allow yourself to experience joy. Your students will follow. Sign up here so you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

There is significant value to building relationships when seeking to foster inclusion. And yet, even when we understand the importance of cultivating authentic, meaningful relationships, the practicality of helping students actually do it can be daunting. Here is a lesson specifically geared for older children and teens: 1. Have a conversation about the power of words. Discuss how easily words can hurt a person and how it is just as easy to use words to lift someone up. 2. Brainstorm together positive words that might be used to describe a friend or someone you care about. Consider steering children away from generic words like “nice” and “fun”. 3. Have one student sit in front of a white board. Gather the other students around him/her to write positive phrases. No peeking! Take a photo of the student and the board when it is complete. Photo and lesson idea credit: Melissa Farnsworth Variations: Do this activity once a week until every student in the class has had a turn. If you have a white board that is rarely used, consider turning it into a display. Keep the original activity up along with the photo and encourage students to add to the board throughout the week. “I was sitting on a beach one summer day, watching two children, a boy and a girl, playing in the sand. They were hard at work building an elaborate sand castle by the water's edge, with gates and towers and moats and internal passages. Just when they had nearly finished their project, a big wave came along and knocked it down, reducing it to a heap of wet sand. I expected the children to burst into tears, devastated by what had happened to all their hard work. But they surprised me. Instead, they ran up the shore away from the water, laughing and holding hands, and sat down to build another castle. I realized that they had taught me an important lesson. All the things in our lives, all the complicated structures we spend so much time and energy creating, are built on sand. Only our relationships to other people endure. Sooner or later, the wave will come along and knock down what we have worked so hard to build up. When that happens, only the person who has somebody's hand to hold will be able to laugh.” ~ Rabbi Harold Kushner Be sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

I have wondered aloud (and in writing) about the difference between using the word disability and the phrase special needs. While I prefer the term disability as I think it is clear, understandable and not in any way derogatory, I have been approached by parents of students in my school who have asked me to use the language of special needs because they find it gentler. But here’s the thing: Don’t we all have needs? And aren’t we all special in some way? Seriously. I am not saying this as a tongue-in-cheek attempt for a giggle. I mean it. Every one of us has needs. And every single one of us is special in some way. I think one of the biggest problems is that the word special is so drastically overused that it doesn’t have any “punch” around its meaning anymore. It’s true. Think about it. There are definitely words in the English language that are so overused that they have lost their meaning. Examples include awesome, totally, really and absolutely. This article highlights eight more. So what do we do about the term special needs? If you ask disability rights activists and self-advocates, many will share that they think special needs is a euphemism that has to go. Michelle Sutton, a neurodiversity rights activist, in My Needs Are Not Special writes: “They are not “special” needs. They are needs I have because of disability. Saying it differently doesn’t change the fact. Saying it differently actually perpetuates the stigma around disability, increases the likelihood people will continue to see me as other and broken, and decreases the chance my needs will be met…All people have needs. When their needs are met, all people live their lives well. All people receive help to see their needs met from time to time. Our society works on shared ideas, spaces and resources. Assisting a non-disabled person to see their needs met is not perceived as heroic, patient or inherently good. It is called living life in community.” This same point is illustrated in the article, “He Ain’t Special, He’s My Brother” – Time to Ditch the Phrase “Special Needs” written by Catia Malaquias and published on Starting w/Julius: “The word “special” is used to sugar-coat segregation and societal exclusion – and its continued use in our language, education systems, media, etc. serves to maintain those increasingly antiquated “special” concepts that line the path to a life of exclusion and low expectations…Further, the “special needs” label sets up the medical “care” model to disability rather than the social inclusion model of disability. It narrows and medicalises society’s response to the person by suggesting that the focus should be on “treating” their “special needs”, rather than on the person’s environment responding to and accommodating the person – including them for the individual that they are.” But here is the point that resonates with me most deeply: “There is another insidious but serious consequence of being labeled (as having or being) “special needs”. The label carries with it the implication that a person with “special needs” can only have their needs met by “special” help or “specially-trained” people – by “specialists”. That implication is particularly powerful and damaging in our mainstream schooling systems – it is a barrier to mainstream schools, administrators and teachers feeling responsible, empowered or skilled to embrace and practice inclusive education in regular classrooms, and accordingly perpetuates attitudinal resistance to realising the human right to inclusive education…In other words, the language of “special needs” leads to, and serves to excuse, a “can’t do” attitude as the default position of many general educators – it effectively deprives inclusive education of its necessary oxygen – a conducive “can do” classroom culture.” I continue to be astounded by the number of times that I lead training sessions and am met by the comment, “Yes, but you are trained in special education;” a comment designed to suggest that I am the expert and therefore I am the only one who can do this work successfully. I have said it before and I will say it again: special education is just good education. Maybe I need to shout it: SPECIAL EDUCATION IS JUST GOOD EDUCATION. The tips and tricks and strategies that make a classroom or a lesson successful for a student with a disability are the SAME tips, tricks and strategies that will benefit ALL CHILDREN. Do teachers have to get creative? YES Do teachers have to put in the time to prepare differentiated lessons that address diverse needs? YES Do teachers have to know their students well to truly understand their needs? YES But this is the work that teachers must do for ALL CHILDREN. And it is work that ALL TEACHERS CAN DO. So I am in agreement. It is absolutely time to lose the phrase special needs. It’s time to reclaim our language and use the words we mean. Because every single one of us is special in some way, and we each have something awesome to contribute to the world we live in and it is absolutely our collective responsibility to make living in shared community a meaningful reality. 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This post contains affiliate links. If you search for ideas to teach diversity in the classroom, you will find dozens of articles about helping children to learn about and appreciate multi-cultural and racial differences. This is wonderful. This is important. This is necessary. And this is a missed opportunity to also teach about differences in ability. It is quite simple to weave in conversations of ability when teaching diversity. I have shared some great examples: Most popular: Teaching Diversity AND Inclusion – The Egg Activity My favorite (and the one I use in disability inclusion training most often): Teach Diversity Using Oranges And a great one where students can take the lead: Teaching Disability Acceptance and Diversity - A Survival Kit Here is another great activity you might use: Using M&M’s to Teach Diversity: Display a bowl of M&M’s. Do not let students touch the bowl or the candy. Ask: What do you see? What can you tell me about these M&M’s just from looking at them? (e.g. different colors) Are there any of these M&M’s better than the others? (acknowledge that some may have a favorite color, steer conversation to the value of the candy itself) Make the following statement: We are just like this bowl of M&M’s. We may appear different on the outside, but we are very much alike on the inside. Let each student have one M&M to eat. Ask them to bite into it, if they can, to look at the inside. Compare insides, noting how they are all the same. Say: We may like the red ones or the green ones best, but that does not mean the yellow ones aren’t as good. This is the same with people. There may be some people we like a lot, but this does not mean other people are not as good. The M&M’s are all made of the same ingredients to make chocolate. Just like M&M’s, people are all made of the same things. We all have blood, muscles, skin, a heart that feels, and yet we all look different on the outside. What if you were all the same size, shape or color? This class would not be as interesting or fun. Our differences are what makes life exciting. Highlight differences in ability along with difference in size, shape or color. Eat the M&M’s! As an extension: Read the poem Different. It can be read as a class and discussed, read in small groups and discussed, students can read and then write their own poems, etc. Different Hey! Hey! I’m just me! I’m different from anyone else you’ll see! Taller than John - shorter than Sue... Hair that is darker than Nancy’s too. Eyes not black or really green Nor really blue, but in between. I’ve got more freckles than Don or Fred. Jane reads better but I can add, And Jim runs faster (which makes me sad!) Johnny’s arms are chocolate brown, And he’s got the happiest grin in town. Judy’s arms are almost white And I’m dark tan - and it’s all right ‘Cause Johnny is him, and I am me, And Judy is Judy, plain to see, And we’re all as different as we can be! -Unknown What are some of your favorite activities for teaching diversity? How can you be sure to include diversity of ability? Never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

The time on the Jewish calendar between the holidays of Pesach (Passover) and Shavuot is reserved for counting the omer. This mitzvah (commandment) derives from the Torah commandment to count forty-nine days beginning from the day on which the Omer, a sacrifice containing a measure of barley, was offered in the Temple in Jerusalem, up until the day before an offering of wheat was brought to the Temple on Shavuot, the holiday that commemorates the receiving of the Torah at Mount Sinai. We use this time for reflection on our journey through the wilderness as we move from freedom to revelation. As such, there are many wonderful commentaries and teachings on what it means to "count". Here are some of my thoughts: Prove that Every Child Counts. In the coming weeks we will read the Torah portion Bemidbar, a census-taking of the Israelites in the wilderness. The Torah spends intentional time identifying exactly who was counted, listing them by names and by their families. This was a significant way of telling them: “You have names, you have families; you are dignified human beings, you are not objects...you EACH count!” Too often people with disabilities are referred to by their classification, diagnosis, physical attributes or limitations. We hear people say, “the Autistic boy in my class” or “that girl in the wheelchair”. Even worse, we still hear words like crippled, retarded, handicapped or diseased. These words and statements are demeaning; undermining individuals for who they truly are. It should be our goal to move away from the disability as the primary, defining characteristic of an individual, and rather recognize it as but one of several aspects of a whole person. This sums it up nicely, I think: As we relieve our journey through the wilderness, as we count the omer, let us remember God’s message to the Israelites, for it is still a message that we must embrace today: “You each count.” Sign up here to be sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

Updated November 2022 Open and supportive communication with parents is essential for a successful school experience for any child. We must forge partnerships between home and school, parents and educators. Parents need more support than they ever did before, and I expect most would welcome the expertise and guidance of caring, thoughtful educators. Here are key points that I feel can help to build the foundation for meaningful, supportive, and productive relationships with parents: It’s all about relationships: Strong relationships are built on trust. Parents need to trust that we are really here to support their children and that we really want to take this journey with them. All the more so for families of children with disabilities. The work that we do in synagogues (and all faith communities) and synagogue schools (really, all schools) is relationship-based. Building strong, lasting relationships is the key to successful experiences across all experiences and all platforms. That does not change when we cannot be together in person; and in many ways it becomes even more important. Say YES: Parents of children with disabilities can spend many hours of their days in “battle”. They often struggle with doctors, insurance agents, therapists, and so on. When joining a faith community, what I believe families most want is to find a place where they don’t have to fight, where they can be accepted as they are, and where their family can find respite and rejuvenation. It seems logical that they should be able find this in a synagogue community. The most significant thing that synagogue professionals can say to parents and family members of those with special needs or disabilities is, “Yes, we can meet “Jonah’s” needs…now help me understand how to do that.” Or “Yes, of course your family can worship here and be a part of our community…please help me understand how we can make that possible for you.” I am not suggesting that every request can and will be met with “yes”, but we have to start by opening the conversation and building the relationship, so that if there are things that are not possible, we can speak about them openly and honestly. When we start with yes, we rely on our trusting relationships to guide us. Parents of children with disabilities need to grieve: When parents learn of a child’s disability, they need to grieve…not for the child, but for the idea of what they thought parenting would be. They process through the grief of what they may not be able to have, while coming to terms and learning to celebrate the new reality of what they can have. This is not easy. But isn’t this the very nature of the work of a religious community? Aren’t we in the business of pastoral care? When a child significantly struggles in religious school, parents may be pushed back into the grief cycle, this time wondering if they will have to give up on their idea of bar/bat mitzvah (or any other significant life cycle event). When educators focus on a student’s limitations, they may inadvertently put a family back into a stance of defensiveness. I am not suggesting that we don’t discuss a child’s limitations, but rather that we need to do this in the context of supporting relationships that begin with “yes”. When we honor the process for each individual child and family, we develop the trusting and lasting relationships that will help to guide us. Subscribe to Removing the Stumbling Block so you never miss a post:

This post contains affiliate links. **Update August 2020 - It is possible to utilize or create a path to fully support social distancing. Such spaces will be all the more important if other practices are limited or modified. For virtual learning, we might support families in creating appropriate paths or spaces at home.** You may have seen the video that went viral of a young boy walking, stretching, and hopping along a path that a special education teacher designed, painted, and implemented in the elementary school where she works. She labored over the path for more than 80 hours, creating something special for the students in her school. A sensory path is meant to help a child use their own bodies and environment to calm themselves down. They use their muscles, breathing, and spatial awareness to make their way through the path and walk away from it reset and refreshed. When teachers know certain students in their class would benefit from movement breaks, they can allow students to leave class (in our space the students would leave with a madrich or madrichah - Hebrew for classroom assistant) and move through the sensory break path. It’s a preventative measure, geared toward improving focus and preventing disruptive behavior before it occurs. In our space we already have students who need breaks throughout the session walking laps around our building. I designed this as a productive alternative. If you’ve seen the sensory path that went viral (image above), it is quite obviously a labor of love, but it is also rather busy. In my opinion there’s almost too much going on. It's always important to strike the right balance between a positive sensory experience and sensory overload. I also think that while wonderful for younger children, this path would seem too juvenile for older elementary and middle school students, who might dismiss it out-of-hand. So, like many others out there, I designed my own. Also a labor of love, I might add; it just took me much less than 80 hours to complete. Rather than paint I used colorful floor tape that can be removed. (Additional items include: large footprint decals, red floor marking tape, green floor marking tape, orange floor marking tape, hand-print decals, spiral wall decal.) I was aware of the limits of our space. Most importantly, our supplemental religious school serves children in PreK through grade 12, so I was wanted to create something that would be appropriate for the variety of ages. All students can use the path from time to time, to ground them on days when they’re feeling hyped up, anxious, or overstimulated in class. As expected, the space was an immediate hit. The most rousing endorsement came from two parents; one who is a physical therapist and the other who is both an early childhood educator and the mother of one of our students who typically walks laps around our building. My favorite moment was when a few third grade boys came to try it out. One, after whipping through it, declared that it was “too easy”. I tried to explain that it wasn’t a race, but he wasn’t listening. Nevertheless, word spread fast and few minutes later the rest of the third grade class wanted to try it out, so back he came along with his peers. Before his turn he again declared, “But it’s so easy.” This time I shared, “It’s not an obstacle course, it’s a sensory path. Do you know what sensory means?” “You mean like our senses?” he asked. “Yes. Some people need a short break from their work to clear their head. Others need to get their blood flowing again so they can get back to work.” “OK,” and off he went, back through the path. As he neared the end I asked, “So, is your blood flowing?” “Yeah, now it is.” The value of using spaces like this, fidgets, or any other tool meant to help a student find success is the context in which the tool is presented. Using the language of “this is a tool to help you” or “let’s take a sensory break,” enables students to more effectively speak about their needs and advocate for themselves in productive and meaningful ways. I think one of our third grade girls had the most important insight of the day: As she completed the path she declared, “Oh, these need to be EVERYWHERE. I’m telling my mom we need one in our house.” For more research on the benefits of sensory breaks read: The Impact of Sensory-Based Movement Activities on Students in General Education. Updated June 2019: ***NEW*** To keep this space interesting for our students I added new elements (and will aim to do so each year). I purchased the spiral sticker and hand-print stickers below. Here are pictures of how this new pieces look: Here are all the products I used to create this space: Contact me to design a sensory break space for your setting or for additional professional development in using such tools effectively. Never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

A story – The Cracked Pot: A water bearer in Babylon had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole, which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master's house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his master's house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection. After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you." "Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?" "I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said. The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path." Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it up a bit. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its failure. The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I put it to good use. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house. The moral of the story: Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots. In this world, nothing goes to waste. You may think, like the cracked pot, that you are inefficient or useless in certain areas of your life, but somehow these flaws can turn out to be a blessing in disguise. Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam, m’shaneh habriyot - Blessed are You, Adonai our God, ruler of the universe, who makes creatures different. Be sure you do not miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

This post contains affiliate links. One of the most popular posts on this blog is called Fair Isn’t Equal. In it I include a wonderful graphic that helps to illustrate the difference between the concepts of fairness and equality. Most people believe that “fairness means that everyone gets the same”; whereas in reality “fairness means that everyone gets what he or she needs.” Further, fairness is one of the most commonly used arguments against inclusion. “Teaching students of different abilities in the same class isn’t fair to those who can move at a quicker pace,” or “It’s not fair to hold back some students to prevent others from falling behind.” The best way to accommodate students of varying abilities in the same learning environment is through differentiated instruction; a methodology which enables students to progress at their own pace via activities that are developmentally appropriate. I also firmly believe in transparency. I think that the methodology and the premise behind it should be shared with students, enabling them to understand and support one another more fully. "The Band-Aid Activity" is not something that I created; but it is a successful way to help students understand the concept of fairness (versus equality) in a differentiated classroom. The Band-Aid Activity Distribute “injury cards” to students (index cards with various injuries listed one per card). Ask students, one at a time, to share their injury, giving each student a band-aid (regardless of the injury). If anyone complains or questions the band-aid, simply say that it would not be fair if everyone did not get the same thing. Questions for discussion: Was it equal that everyone got a Band-Aid? Was it fair that everyone got a Band-Aid? Why or why not? (Everyone getting the same thing wasn’t fair because it didn’t help most of the students. Sometimes students will do different things in class, but everyone is learning and getting what they need. It is important not to make anyone feel bad about doing something different.) Depending upon the age of the students: What other things in the classroom are our “injuries” like? What else can the Band-Aids be compared to? (The Band-Aids are like getting the help you need in class. When a teacher is working with a small group or individual student, interrupting or distracting them is like taking away the student’s Band-Aid.) **Variation: Give all but the last student a band-aid. Add in a discussion of how it felt to be the only one without a band aid. There can be other variations of the activity depending upon the age of the students, but this can certainly be used in a discussion format with middle school students and teens. And here is a terrific link to a blog explaining this lesson in action with young children. Do you have any great activities for teaching fairness? Sign up here to be sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

We've met. You are a Jewish professional or a lay leader who cares about your community. You are deeply committed to the people and the organization you serve. You make it your business to read, stay current, understand trends, and learn as much as you can. You understand that what you do is about more than the people you serve; you recognize that the future of the Jewish people rests in your hands. I admire you. I appreciate you. I respect your commitment and recognize that you want what’s best for your community. And I know that deep down you genuinely want to live the values you believe in. But you are still struggling to get it right when it comes to inclusion. Despite your best intentions. I want to help you. I love that you are learning about person-first and identity-first language and that you are trying really hard to break habits and change a culture. I get it. It’s hard. It’s really hard. You have to realize that what you say always matters. Others are looking to you as the example. All your good work will be ignored when what you SAY about that work misses the mark. This is why you have to get it right. This is why you have to pay attention to all the things you shouldn’t say. But first, before I share my list of what you shouldn’t say when talking about disability inclusion, let’s clear one thing up. I want to be transparent about what I mean when I use the word INCLUSION. Inclusion is an ideal. It is a state of being and a mindset. Inclusion is what we strive for our world to be; it's not a place, not one person, not a moment in time. I wish it wasn’t an ideal, I wish it was consistently REAL – right now, all the time. I wish inclusion could just BE. But it isn’t yet, so we work toward it and strive for it and continue to celebrate it as an accomplishment because we have yet to get to the place where inclusion just IS. SO…if you are still with me, and you believe in what I say, we have to, HAVE TO, work on what we say. Here is my list of things you shouldn’t say when talking about disability inclusion: 1. We have a great inclusion program NO. You don’t. You may have a great program. And if you are doing inclusion right, it is a seamless part of everything else you do. But then you wouldn’t have to tell me about it, would you? The minute you tell me all about your great inclusion program, what you have said is that you separate people with disabilities from everyone else. Even if everyone is in the same room – when you reduce inclusion to a program you perpetuate the idea that it is an add-on, an extra “something” you had to design or develop or create. No, you do not have a great inclusion program. 2. Members of our inclusion community will speak/present/share their reflections Ugh. I just read this one this week. From a very well-intentioned lay leader who is working hard to ensure that his congregation is as inclusive as it can be. And yet, the minute I read his comment about plans for their upcoming Inclusion Shabbat (see #3 below) which will include reflections from members of their inclusion community, I cringed. How about just members of our community, period? If you really must highlight that a person with a disability will be a speaker, and that person is comfortable having their disability highlighted in this way, then say exactly that in whatever way they want you to. But “members of our inclusion community” just singled people out as “other” and undermined your whole effort. 3. This Friday we are hosting our (annual/monthly) Inclusion Shabbat I will admit that this one is a little trickier. I understand the desire to raise up the value of inclusion, and I also recognize that this can have merit as a tool for awareness raising. This is one of those places where I think the distinction between Inclusion with a capital “I” vs. inclusion with a lowercase “i” comes into play. Inclusion with a lowercase “i” takes us back to Number 1 – it’s about who we want to be. But the value of capital “I” Inclusion can be about bringing attention to an issue. It’s not that this is the only Shabbat that is inclusive (I hope!), but rather, it is the one where you celebrate inclusion and help others to understand its critical place in our Jewish world. Just like you sometimes host “Pride Shabbat” or “Social Action Shabbat” as ways to lift the values of LGBTQ Inclusion or tikkun olam, so, too, can you lift the value of disability inclusion. Just know your goals. 4. We have a terrific inclusion classroom Again, NO. You don’t. If you have designated one classroom to be the place where children with disabilities learn with their peers, then you have one classroom of mixed abilities. When you call it your inclusion classroom, you once again perpetuate the idea that inclusion happens in one space at certain times. Now, can you have one or a few classrooms of mixed abilities within a school? Of course! And there is so much value to that. It can be a way to maximize resources and meet student needs the most effective way. What I am emphasizing here is strictly the way you speak about it. You do not have an inclusion classroom, your school is inclusive and you have many ways to meet students' needs. 5. I can’t “do” inclusion, I wasn’t trained Are you a human? Then you can be inclusive. You do not need special training to understand that every human has value, every life is worth living, and everyone has a gift to share with the rest of the world. You do not need special training to be kind, warm, inviting, and open to possibility. You have the ability to break down barriers every single day. You have the power to stop being a barrier yourself, in ways you didn’t even realize. Change your language, change your mindset. When there is something you do not know, ask. Inclusion really can be that simple. Sign up here so you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

There’s a terrific image floating around Pinterest for teaching diversity: Speaks for itself, right? Well, it got me thinking. (You’re not surprised, are you?) I found myself wondering how I might use this image to create an activity that not only teaches diversity in skin color, race or ethnicity, but also includes conversation about disability. The Egg Activity to Teach Diversity & Inclusion Materials: 1 small white egg 1 extra large white egg 1 brown egg 1-2 eggs (any color) with marks or “imperfections” 1-2 eggs (any color) with slight cracks (not enough to break the egg open) Activity: 1. Display all of the eggs. 2. Ask students to describe the various eggs, noting similarities and differences. Be sure to highlight the following differences: · Size of eggs · Color of eggs · Markings · Cracks 3. Direct students to guess what the eggs will look like inside. 4. Crack each egg open in a separate bowl. 5. Compare how, despite the exterior differences, all of the eggs are the same on the inside. Depending on students’ age; emphasize the ways we tend to underestimate people and their abilities when we judge them only by the way they look. Discuss how this might positively change the way we treat people in the future. Variations for older students: 1. If your classroom has been established as a safe space, some older children and/or teens may feel comfortable sharing their own challenges and/or disabilities as a part of this conversation. This could be the perfect opportunity to discuss such “invisible disabilities” as dyslexia, processing disorders, anxiety, etc. Possible extension: 1. Make a list of things that are important about you that others would easily know just by looking. Make a second list of things that are important about you that others would not be able to know just by looking. Which list is longer? Which list feels more important? What can this teach us about ourselves and other people? Sign up here to be sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

Working with students of different abilities to ensure they have access to a meaningful Jewish education enables me to revisit my own personal commitment to inclusion over and over again. Over the years I have learned amazing strategies and techniques in adapting curriculum, shaping lessons, and accommodating individual students' needs. However, the most significant thing I have learned is that simply accommodating a student’s needs is not inclusion. Don’t get me wrong, making appropriate accommodations is an essential strategy in working with all students who have unique learning needs. But there’s more to inclusion. Let me give you an example: A class of students is going to break into chevruta (partner groups) to study a Jewish text. A written copy of the text is given to each student. The teacher decides that since this is a discussion-based activity, the text can be read aloud to a student who is blind and she can still fully participate. What’s wrong with this? Put yourself in the scenario. Are you typically the one who says (when something is read aloud), “Let me see that, I missed half of what you said.”? If so, you are probably a visual learner. (Read more about learning styles.) This is how Braille can function for a student that is blind; it’s her way of “seeing” the text for herself. Here is another example: Students will be working in groups to explore leadership and community building. The activity relies on students' ability to observe one another as they engage in the task. Adding a listening role to the group for a student who is blind is a reasonable accommodation, but adding that same role to every group is inclusive. One more: Making sure there is a chair available for a student who has a physical disability is a reasonable accommodation, but reshaping the activity so that all of the students will sit is inclusive. Inclusion isn't always easy. Sometimes it takes trial and error. And it takes both intentionality and planning. As we learn from Rabbi Tarfon in Pirkei Avot: "It is not your responsibility to finish the work [of perfecting the world], but neither are you free to desist from it." (2:16) Be sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

I can’t honestly think of too many times when it's "ok" to turn a do into a don’t. Actually, it’s typically just the opposite, especially with children. When trying to help shape a child’s behavior or teach a child a value, it’s far more effective to use positive language. For example, instead of “don’t run”, it’s a better choice to say, “walk” (the do is implied, of course). I feel strongly that we should all try to use "do statements" in both parenting and in teaching. Nonetheless, I will break from my own advice for a moment. Once you watch this video called "Don't Limit Me", I think you will understand why. With thanks to Cindy Barclay of Surprising Treasures for bringing this special video to my attention. Don't (see what I did there?) miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

I’m in the advice-giving business. Take any of the many hats that I wear and at some point every day I will offer advice. Educator, Jewish professional, Inclusion Specialist, teacher trainer, blog author, supervisor, mentor, parent, friend… each one of these roles has some advice-giving inherently built in. And lest you read any negativity here, it is not implied. Giving advice often gets a bad rap, but it’s not the advice itself that’s really at issue. At issue is the way the advice is given; the issue is often the advice GIVER. Case in point: We run the risk of “becoming the wallpaper” when we are the ONLY voice consistently sharing a specific message. We need partners. Otherwise we help advice get its bad name, as each of us alone could veer too close to nagging, hassling or badgering. Please don’t misunderstand – I am not suggesting that we stop offering advice or stop sharing our message. Rather, I am suggesting that we need to consistently vary the ways in which that message is delivered. A perfect example: Sometimes all is takes is a simple shift to another point of view. Or maybe it's as simple as using a different modality to amplify your message. So let me give you a little advice... Don't miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

I think about authenticity a lot. I’m fairly certain one significant reason is that I work with pre-teens and teens - and they will not hesitate to call you out for a lack of authenticity. I actually believe that this is why I have had such great successes in building relationships with teens – because I have proven my willingness to walk the walk and not just talk the talk. This holds true to inclusion. Authenticity is a key element to ensuring that a community’s inclusive efforts aren’t just words on a page, but rather an integral part of who they are and all they do. When asked how it came to be that I would staff a URJ Kesher Birthright trip to Israel this Winter cycle, I readily share the two reasons: First: I lost a dear friend to cancer a few years ago. I miss her every day. I can still vividly recall our breakfast conversations (that was our thing - breakfast together every six weeks) both before and after the trip that she staffed. She told me, in no uncertain terms, that I MUST do this. I didn’t forget. And I am honored to hold her memory close as I make this experience a reality. Second: this experience is about authenticity. I have been encouraging countless young adults to take advantage of Birthright for many years. And I have lived vicariously through their stories and pictures, feeling great pride as lessons they learned in childhood came to life in front of their eyes and deep in their hearts. But I truly believe that authenticity is a per-requisite to speaking honestly about any program I might encourage. This is why I can speak so passionately about the NFTY Mitzvah Corps programs. And this is why I go to camp (and serve on faculty) each and every summer. But I have a secret to share; I also have a little bit of a hidden agenda. You see, I believe that we can and should be offering a Birthright track that is more manageable for young adults with disabilities. I know this changes the model. (I also know that the most dangerous phrase in the English language is, “we’ve always done it that way.”) I know such a trip requires additional staff and possibly adjusting the itinerary. But I also know that it is possible because there are other models. And I know that it can be a powerful opportunity. Read: "A Reminder of What is Possible". So now my secret agenda isn’t such a secret. It is my hope that once I have had the experience of staffing a Birthright trip and know the "ins and outs" more intimately, that I might be better positioned to move conversations forward around making trips more accessible and inclusive. Inclusion requires authenticity. Be sure you don't miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

Here are ten of the most important things to know about Jewish education and disability inclusion: 1. Each of us is created b’tzelem elohim, in the image of God. As such, each of us is perfect and worthy of living a meaningful Jewish life. No one has the right to judge what is “meaningful” for anyone but themselves. 2. Fair isn’t equal. Fair is when everyone gets what they need to be successful. 3. Special Education is good education. The strategies, values and goals that make special education successful are the same strategies, values and goals that will help all students find success. 4. Inclusion is not a place. Inclusion is not a program. Inclusion is a way of helping students to reach their highest potential. It is fluid, flexible and ever-changing. 5. Inclusion is NOT social action. We do not "do" inclusion "for" people with disabilities. Rather, it is incumbent upon us to figure out how all the things we do can be inclusive. 6. Differentiated Instruction (or different expectations) for individual students is absolutely fair. Students should not be compared to one another or to an arbitrary level of expectation. All students should be working toward progress from their current level of functioning. 7. Hebrew and Jewish Studies classes can utilize differentiated instruction. It would be a pleasure to teach your faculty how to do this well. In addition, using teen madrichim (classroom assistants) appropriately is a productive way to individualize content. 8. Professional development for teachers is crucial. And while a one-shot, one-day training can be helpful, teachers working with students who have a wide range of abilities and disabilities need ongoing support and opportunities to strengthen their own techniques. 9. Intentional planning is critical for success. 10. Partner with parents. Open and supportive communication with parents is essential for a successful Jewish supplemental school experience for any child, especially those with special learning needs. Don't miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

When news hit the airways that Sesame Street was introducing it's first character to have Autism, Julia, people started talking. Not surprisingly, people have a lot to say. In Jewish education and synagogue life we have understood for a long time that it is impossible to please everyone. It doesn't mean that we don't have a vision and work toward it; rather we do exactly that by living and acting according to our values. But it does mean that sometimes we have to recognize that there are those we will not please. So, too, is it with an initiatives like this one. Sesame Street has a vision to help the world celebrate the uniqueness in each and every child, and they have launched a project built on years of research whose goal is to highlight the commonalities among children, not their differences. They want to build empathy, compassion and work to reduce the epidemic of bullying our children face. They did their homework, focused on their target audience, and made thoughtful choices. Are there critics? Of course there are. Just read the comment threads from any of the various articles and blog posts that have been posted. For as many people who applaud the effort there are equally as many who bash it. I'm on the applaud-side of the fence, if you were wondering. But I don't think this is the first permanent Sesame Street character with a disability. In fact, I think there have been characters with disabilities woven into children's television for a very long time. I suppose you could say inclusion is the lens through which I view the world. That may be true. But I think we all have that lens, we just might not always call it that. And so, if we are talking about identifying a character from children's television as having a specific disability, I have already been doing this for a long time. For as long as I can remember, I have been identifying the character in each show my children watch as the one with a disability: We have long recognized Cookie Monster as a character who displays impulsive behavior. We have chatted about Oscar's anger management struggles. We have acknowledged that Ferb, of Phineas and Ferb fame, could possibly be selectively mute. We have discussed Patrick Star's (SpongeBob's best friend) learning issues. And there's Fozzie Bear, who interprets figurative language as literal, is not good at taking social cues, doesn’t read a room well, and tends to repeat himself long after the need has passed. Autism? I believe there is such a character in every children's show. I have used this notion to help me teach my children to be accepting of disabilities. Is such a character named and classified? Definitely not. But do they exist? For sure. And I think this is far more inclusive, by the way. It is, as this author deftly calls it, the Fozzie Conundrum. By far the most astute of all the articles I have read about the new Sesame Street initiative, she hits the nail on the head when she says, "We’ve known Fozzie for years and never needed anyone to explain away his eccentricities. In fact, we’ve loved his quirks and have never seen him as anything but Fozzie." The Fozzie Conundrum. "Would knowing Fozzie had autism have changed the way we looked at him? Maybe." And that would be a shame. Because when we think about Fozzie we think about a character who is lovable, funny and a little bit quirky. The Fozzie Conundrum. "Would knowing Fozzie had autism have made it easier for his parents and friends to understand his behaviors as he grew into himself? Also maybe." It's a challenge. There's always a balance to be struck. Do we need better representation of disabilities on television and in mainstream media? Yes! But do we need to call attention to every difference among us and label it? Certainly not. We need to figure out how to land somewhere in the middle. We need to be aware that each one of us is different with gifts to offer the world and challenges to navigate. And this is exactly where Sesame Street gets it right. We need to celebrate the uniqueness that each and every child brings to the world. Be sure you don't miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

I have had the good fortune of connecting with many wonderful bloggers who care deeply about the inclusion of people with disabilities. I am always honored to write guest posts for and collaborate with these amazing advocates. So I jumped when such an opportunity came from Snappin' Ministries. I have said often that to be truly inclusive we must model it in all aspects of our lives. And so I think it is wonderfully significant that a Christian ministry, dedicated to supporting people with disabilities, eagerly shared a teaching from a Jewish educator. We need more of this in our world. “But Moses said to God, ‘Please, God, I have never been a man of words, either in times past or now; I am slow of speech and slow of tongue.’ And God said to Moses, ‘Who gives man speech? Who makes him dumb or deaf, seeing or blind? Is it not I, the Eternal?’” (Exodus 4:10-11) It might have been easy for God to say, “You know what, Moses, you’re right. I am asking too much of you.” It might have been easy for God to say, “You know what, Moses, give it a shot and if it’s too hard, we’ll find someone else.” It might have been easy for God to say, “OK, Moses, your brother, Aaron can do it.” (Instead) It might have been easy for God to underestimate Moses’ abilities, but he didn’t. God believed in Moses and reassured him by reminding him that God’s choices are perfect. In fact, God designated Aaron to speak for Moses when he was unable, as his aide, and thus demonstrated the first formal act of true inclusion seen in the Bible. Too often we underestimate others abilities. Too often we fail to presume competence. Haven’t you done it? Given in too easily when someone in our care complains that what we are asking is just too much? How often is it easier to just let a sibling complete the task? How many times have we given up due to our own frustrations? How often have we neglected to even ask? Inclusion is a mindset. It is a way of thinking. It is not a program that we run or a classroom in our school or a favor we do for someone. Inclusion is who we are. It is who we must strive to be. To be inclusive we must presume competence. To be inclusive we must recognize each person’s right to belong. To be inclusive we must recognize the gift that each and every person brings to the world. Read: The Cracked Pot The moral of the story: Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots. In this world, nothing goes to waste. Each and every perceived flaw is truly a blessing in disguise. Never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

It’s not hard to teach our children to be accepting of disabilities. Children are naturally eager and excited to learn new things. Like sponges, they quickly absorb new words, concepts and ideas. Children learn through imitation, and as they grow older, they form habits and opinions by repeating what they see and hear. Unfortunately, it is just as easy to teach children to be unwelcoming, wary or even fearful of people with disabilities. When an adult walks past someone in a wheelchair, turning his head to the side to avoid making eye contact, the child next to him learns to avoid interactions with people in wheelchairs. When a woman parks in the handicapped spot in a parking lot, she is teaching the children in her car that the needs of those who truly need such spots are insignificant. When a woman deliberately avoids the checkout line at the grocery store with a clerk or bagger with disabilities, she teaches the children with her that this person’s work means less than someone else’s. When a parent tells a teacher, in earshot of his own child, that he doesn’t want his son in class with “that” child; he teaches his son that a child with disabilities is less worthy of an education. "Don't worry that children never listen to you; worry that they are always watching you." ~ Robert Fulghum What if an adult looked the man using a wheelchair in the eye and said good morning? What if a woman explained to the children in her car that the reason they have to walk a little farther this morning is because there are certain spots saved for people who don’t walk as well as they can on their own (fair isn’t always equal)? What if a woman deliberately chose a line at the grocery store for the clerk with a disability, quietly explaining, outside the store, that they continue to shop at this very store because of its inclusive employment policies? What if a parent told a teacher, in earshot of his son, that his son has already mastered the math lesson and would be happy to help another child in the class catch up? Lead by example. Be the person you hope your children will become. Teach your children that a wheelchair is just a ride. Demonstrate the value of treating others with kindness. Discuss the significance of choosing your words carefully and standing up for equality and the rights of others. What if…. Sign up here to be sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

This post contains affiliate links. **Update August 2020 - It is possible to utilize or create a path to fully support social distancing. Such spaces will be all the more important if other practices are limited or modified. For virtual learning, we might support families in creating appropriate paths or spaces at home.** You may have seen the video that went viral of a young boy walking, stretching, and hopping along a path that a special education teacher designed, painted, and implemented in the elementary school where she works. She labored over the path for more than 80 hours, creating something special for the students in her school. A sensory path is meant to help a child use their own bodies and environment to calm themselves down. They use their muscles, breathing, and spatial awareness to make their way through the path and walk away from it reset and refreshed. When teachers know certain students in their class would benefit from movement breaks, they can allow students to leave class (in our space the students would leave with a madrich or madrichah - Hebrew for classroom assistant) and move through the sensory break path. It’s a preventative measure, geared toward improving focus and preventing disruptive behavior before it occurs. In our space we already have students who need breaks throughout the session walking laps around our building. I designed this as a productive alternative. If you’ve seen the sensory path that went viral (image above), it is quite obviously a labor of love, but it is also rather busy. In my opinion there’s almost too much going on. It's always important to strike the right balance between a positive sensory experience and sensory overload. I also think that while wonderful for younger children, this path would seem too juvenile for older elementary and middle school students, who might dismiss it out-of-hand. So, like many others out there, I designed my own. Also a labor of love, I might add; it just took me much less than 80 hours to complete. Rather than paint I used colorful floor tape that can be removed. (Additional items include: large footprint decals, red floor marking tape, green floor marking tape, orange floor marking tape, hand-print decals, spiral wall decal.) I was aware of the limits of our space. Most importantly, our supplemental religious school serves children in PreK through grade 12, so I was wanted to create something that would be appropriate for the variety of ages. All students can use the path from time to time, to ground them on days when they’re feeling hyped up, anxious, or overstimulated in class. As expected, the space was an immediate hit. The most rousing endorsement came from two parents; one who is a physical therapist and the other who is both an early childhood educator and the mother of one of our students who typically walks laps around our building. My favorite moment was when a few third grade boys came to try it out. One, after whipping through it, declared that it was “too easy”. I tried to explain that it wasn’t a race, but he wasn’t listening. Nevertheless, word spread fast and few minutes later the rest of the third grade class wanted to try it out, so back he came along with his peers. Before his turn he again declared, “But it’s so easy.” This time I shared, “It’s not an obstacle course, it’s a sensory path. Do you know what sensory means?” “You mean like our senses?” he asked. “Yes. Some people need a short break from their work to clear their head. Others need to get their blood flowing again so they can get back to work.” “OK,” and off he went, back through the path. As he neared the end I asked, “So, is your blood flowing?” “Yeah, now it is.” The value of using spaces like this, fidgets, or any other tool meant to help a student find success is the context in which the tool is presented. Using the language of “this is a tool to help you” or “let’s take a sensory break,” enables students to more effectively speak about their needs and advocate for themselves in productive and meaningful ways. I think one of our third grade girls had the most important insight of the day: As she completed the path she declared, “Oh, these need to be EVERYWHERE. I’m telling my mom we need one in our house.” For more research on the benefits of sensory breaks read: The Impact of Sensory-Based Movement Activities on Students in General Education. Updated June 2019: ***NEW*** To keep this space interesting for our students I added new elements (and will aim to do so each year). I purchased the spiral sticker and hand-print stickers below. Here are pictures of how this new pieces look: Here are all the products I used to create this space: Contact me to design a sensory break space for your setting or for additional professional development in using such tools effectively. Never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

Like most parents, I have a lot of funny stories about my kids. I also have things I’d like to brag about, some frustrating stories, a few sad stories and a handful of stories about those “aha” moments. But every once in a while, there is a story that completely and seamlessly merges your parenting and your professional life. This is mine. First, a little background. My husband and I have really close friends that we have known since high school. They fall into that special category of “lifelong friends”, so of course our children have become friends. Their son is a year older than our oldest, three years older than our youngest. They have been playing together since they were babies. None of them can remember a time when the others weren’t a part of their lives. Oh, and their son has Cerebral Palsy and uses both a wheelchair and a communication device. So one weekend when my kids were five and three, we all got together for dinner. It was unremarkable in that we went to our friends' house, the kids played, and we parents schmoozed. Two days later I was in my kitchen making dinner when I looked up see my son pushing my daughter around our hallway at top speed in her small stuffed Princess chair. Immediately worried for their safety, I called out for them to stop and asked what they were doing. My son’s response? “Mommy, we are playing wheelchair!” In that moment two things happened: 1. I cried. Real tears. The joyous ones. 2. I quickly closed the basement door so they would not topple down a flight of stairs and told them to go back to playing. Since then I have reflected on this experience a great deal and I have told the story to anyone who will listen. I'm so proud that my kids have the gift of this friend in their lives. And I am so glad that they recall this story as fondly as I do. It is a hallmark for me as both a parent and a Jewish Inclusion Expert. It brought together all that I had already known, all that I believe, and all that I strive to teach. Lesson #1: Modeling works. Period. It is totally and completely possible to teach children that disabilities are a normal part of life. That wheelchair is not our friend’s son. It’s just a way for him to get around. Lesson #2: Children innately know how to overlook the things that make adults uncomfortable. Adults bring complicated emotions to their interactions; children bring a natural sense of joy and wonder. Of course my children wanted to have a wheelchair, they are big and shiny. Lesson #3: Every child is a precious gift from God. Each of us is created b’tzelem elohim (in the image of God). It really is that simple. Never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

According to the National Center for Learning Disabilities, “Dyslexia is the name for specific learning disabilities in reading… Children and adults with dyslexia simply have a neurological disorder that causes their brains to process and interpret information differently.” From Edutopia, “Dyslexia is real, occurring in up to 20 percent of the population. That means there is a student in every classroom, in every neighborhood, and in every U.S. school. It also means that every classroom teacher has the opportunity to positively change the life of a student with dyslexia by taking the time to understand what it is and provide accommodations for accessing information that the student is capable of learning through alternate formats.” When given the appropriate opportunities and support, most students with dyslexia learn to read and write successfully. What’s more, dyslexia itself is NOT an indication of intellectual capacity. And yet, sadly, the place where dyslexics are most often misunderstood is in school. One of the most powerful motivational speakers on this topic, Jonathan Mooney, shares his own experiences as a dyslexic writer and activist who did not learn to read until he was 12 years old. He went on to graduate from Brown University and a holds an honors degree in English Literature. When he speaks, Jonathan strives to have his audiences understand that it is our own systems and structures that limit those with dyslexia and other disabilities. Read more in Our Children Aren’t Broken. When we break out of our typical molds of expectation, we will see individuals with dyslexia thrive intellectually and go on to careers in fields such as politics, law, science, entertainment and even education. I am sure that many heads nodded along with the information above. And yet, while completely true, this is where supplemental religious schools get tripped up. Our teachers encounter the notion of “making accommodations” and run scared. They say things like, “If she can’t read English well, how can I possibly teach her Hebrew?” or “You can’t make accommodations when you only see the kids for two hours a week,” and worse: “Making the kinds of accommodations he needs just takes too much time.” So how do we do it? Four practical strategies for accommodating students with dyslexia in a religious school classroom: Enlarge the font – Such manipulations are easier than ever before with the digital resources at our fingertips. But don’t be afraid to go “old school” and enlarge the content on a written page using a good ole’ copy machine. Minimize other distractions on the page – Again, many digital readers have the built in ability to do this, but you can create your own of any size by cutting a “word (or sentence) shaped hole” in the center of a piece of cardstock. This image is one example. Clicking the image will take you the item on Amazon. Such a tool is most effective when customized to the individual student. Color coding – Color coding, especially in Hebrew, can help with the recall of vowel sounds and/or to distinguish “look alike” letters. Remove time limits – Just as it sounds, students with dyslexia feel anxious and pressure when expected to read at the pace of their peers. Allow students to read at their own pace. Remember, every student is different and no two students with dyslexia (or any other disability) will learn in the same way. It is important to get to know your students well and tailor strategies to their specific needs. When we move away from viewing learning differences as deficiencies, we can find ways to allow each and every student in our classrooms and communities to thrive. Never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

A colleague asked if I would be willing to share some written information about our Religious School special needs programs. It makes me happy when others wish to start programs of their own and seek to emulate ours. I readily offered a few program write-ups that I have created over the years, but as I crafted the email, I pointed out that my attachments were primarily focused around our grade school programs. I explained that in our high school programs we modify where needed, but we don't have pull-out programs; it's all inclusion. There's no "write-up" or program description other than the ones for our post b'nei mitzvah programs at large. That's because inclusion is not a program. Accommodations are important. Awareness is necessary. But inclusion is not a program. Inclusion is a mindset. It is the way we treat others and the way they treat us. Inclusion is the opportunity to learn together and from one another. And we do it because it is the right thing to do. Period. As Jews, we have the moral imperative to do what is right and just in this world. Inclusion is right. Inclusion is just. So we do it. I am finding it harder and harder to understand why everyone isn't on this same page. You can read my program descriptions, marketing materials or curriculum guides; but write-ups won't really convey our deep and unyielding commitment to inclusion. I can convey this when I speak to communities or when I offer any one of a variety of workshops for teachers, teens and lay leaders. But don't confuse things. Bringing me in isn't inclusion; but it will be a starting point, a springboard. That's because what we are really talking about here is attitude. We need to have an attitude of yes. That's inclusion. Be sure you don't miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

We love blog posts that boast how you can “Change Your Life in 5 Easy Steps” or ones that offer us “10 Steps for Finding Happiness”. And as a blogger, I have written a handful of articles offering concrete, practical advice such as Ten Inclusion Mistakes Even Good Educators Make. But I’d be misleading you if I offered to just hand you the steps to making your school or synagogue more inclusive. Even if I told you the steps that my congregation followed, you can’t just wrap our process up with a bow and plunk it down into your community saying, “Ok, now we are inclusive”. Why not? Because becoming an inclusive community is a process. It is a deliberate and intentional transformation. It is a work in progress. And yet, there is one piece of solid, tried & true advice that I can offer. Say yes. Say yes because far too many have said no. Far too many still say no. Some of them “get around to “yes” with a lot of pushing and prodding, but that just leaves everyone involved with lingering frustrations and a sense of wariness. Yes is powerful. Yes builds relationships. Yes demonstrates commitment. Say yes; then find the partners who can help you to figure it out. From the day I stepped through the doors of Temple Beth-El almost eighteen years ago, I have led with a philosophy of “yes”. When I say, “Yes, we can meet your needs…please help me understand how to do that,” I enable families to trust me and to recognize that we are all on the same team. I am not suggesting that every request and potential accommodation can and will be met with “yes”, but by opening the door we set the stage for an honest and trusting relationship. It means that when something truly is not possible, we can speak about it calmly and realistically. This has been the single most powerful secret to the success of my congregation. Far too many congregations promote themselves as “warm, welcoming and inclusive”. But often these are just the right words to put on brochures and websites. What separates congregations who are genuinely inclusive from those who say they are is their ability to say yes and mean it. These are the congregations who recognize that inclusion isn’t a committee, that inclusion isn’t a program and that inclusion isn’t a classroom in the school. The congregations that do it right recognize that inclusion defines them, it is part of who they are. Be sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

If you have done any reading or learning in the area of mindset, you know that the word “yet” can be a powerful game changer. It can help move from a fixed mindset to a growth mindset. Here is the concept: Help students change from saying and thinking “I can’t” to believing “I can’t yet.” Shift them from “I don’t get it” to “I don’t get it yet.” Push them from “I don’t know” to “I don’t know yet.” And encourage them to abandon “This doesn’t work” for “This doesn’t work yet.” It’s a significant way to re-frame our thinking; and can help those who are consistently down on their own accomplishments to recognize there is always an opportunity for more. The idea of yet can be a subtle and meaningful reminder that we are always growing, always learning. In F is to Face Challenges I shared how the acronym of FAIL can represent First Attempt In Learning. How amazing it could be if we tackled our personal frustrations with “yet”. How significant for an adult to model this language and embrace this belief system rather than simply saying the words to children. We know that modeling works, but somehow we don’t seem to use it as effectively and consistently as we should. So how does all of this lead us back to inclusion? Again, if we shift our thinking to embrace the power of yet, we can move that much more steadily on the road to inclusion. It allows us the room to take steps and manage them before moving on to the next. It helps us to see that we can be inclusive by opening the doors and starting the journey, and that we don’t have to wait until we reach an arbitrary end point to say we are inclusive. Way too often organizations believe that if they “can’t do it all” they are not or will not be inclusive. Unfortunately, there are even disability advocates among us who criticize organizations for not being “inclusive enough”. Imagine harnessing the power of yet in such situations: “We can’t meet your daughter’s needs here,” can become, “We understand that we are not meeting your daughter’s needs yet, please be our partner so we can do this more effectively together.” “We do not have an accessible entrance/bimah/bathroom,” can become, “We do not have an accessible entrance/bimah/bathroom yet.” And, “We can’t afford those structural changes,” can become, “We can’t afford the structural changes required to improve our accessibility yet.” What’s more, despite the frustrations they may feel, how powerful if those wishing to access our congregations also embraced the power of yet: “I am pulling my daughter out of your program because you can’t meet her needs!” can become, “Your program doesn’t meet my daughter’s needs yet, I will help you understand how to do that more effectively.” “I have to leave my temple/school because the entrance/bimah/bathroom isn’t accessible” can become, “This space isn’t fully accessible yet, but this is my community and I will help to guide those changes.” And even more powerful is what can happen when ALL of our teachers embrace this belief and demonstrate a “yet attitude”: “He/she doesn’t seem to be getting anything out of this lesson…yet” “Her/his behavior is so challenging and I just don’t know what to do…yet” The power of yet is real and unmistakable. How will you use it? Sign up here so you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

The most popular posts on this blog are Fair Isn’t Equal and Teaching the Difference Between Fairness and Equality. With good reason. These are challenging concepts for children (and let’s face it, many adults) to fully wrap their brains around. Even when we understand the difference between these concepts, many find ourselves reverting back to the age-old whine, “It’s not fair.” To review: Fairness means that each person gets what he or she needs to be successful. Equality is giving each person the exact same thing. Further, fairness continues to be one of the most commonly used arguments against inclusion. “It’s not fair to hold some students back to prevent others from falling behind,” is just one of many myths that continues to be perpetuated by those who do not fully understand the concept of fairness. Therefore, for a classroom (or a school or an organization) to be truly inclusive, it is critical that the difference between fairness and equality be both understood and embraced. A Classroom Activity: Place two rewards high up on a shelf, so high that only the tallest student/participant can reach them (even if it takes some stretching or a little jumping). Ask for volunteers. Say, “Anyone who can reach one can have it, no strings attached.” When the hands go up, choose the tallest person first. Ask for a second volunteer. Ignore the hands and select the shortest person in the room. After a few unsuccessful attempts, he will often go for a chair or table. Say, “You may not use a chair; that would be unfair. So and so did it under her own steam. You must do the same.” Participants will likely complain: “That’s not fair! He can’t help that he’s small.” Ponder their argument and say, “Okay, give me your best reasons for allowing him to use a chair or any other kind of assistance in reaching the reward when so and so had no help. How can that be fair?!?” Listen to participants argue their case, relent (which is what you were going to do anyway) and let the student use the chair to grab the reward. If it is even necessary, refer back to this demonstration to explain why you do certain things in your differentiated, inclusive classroom with different students at different times in order to help each of them find success. They will get it. Fair isn’t always equal. Sign up here to be sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

In Rethinking Disability Simulations - Part I, I shared with you one self-advocate’s view that disability simulation activities do not work to change long-term attitudes about disabilities. I took this to heart and have begun to rethink my own practice. So, what are some alternatives to disability simulations for teaching disability awareness? Watch a few Public Service Announcement (PSA) videos as a class. Here are some suggestions: Discuss the message of each PSA and the collective message with students. Connect the message to Jewish text. Give students an opportunity to create their own PSA. Give students the opportunity to assess the synagogue for accessibility. Provide them with a checklist or survey from sites such as http://www.ada.gov/ or http://www.wbdg.org/resources/assesstools.php Do you have other suggestions? Be sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

As we celebrate the life of a man deeply committed to equality for all people, I can't help but think of the ways in which his impact can be felt by those who love, support and advocate for people with disabilities. I challenge you to think deeply about how the legacy of Martin Luther King Jr. can inspire and shape your inclusive practice. "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do keep moving forward." "I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear." We can quote MLK Jr. today, but how will we be doing his work tomorrow? Don't miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

I have wondered aloud (and in writing) about the difference between using the word disability and the phrase special needs. While I prefer the term disability as I think it is clear, understandable and not in any way derogatory, I have been approached by parents of students in my school who have asked me to use the language of special needs because they find it gentler. But here’s the thing: Don’t we all have needs? And aren’t we all special in some way? Seriously. I am not saying this as a tongue-in-cheek attempt for a giggle. I mean it. Every one of us has needs. And every single one of us is special in some way. I think one of the biggest problems is that the word special is so drastically overused that it doesn’t have any “punch” around its meaning anymore. It’s true. Think about it. There are definitely words in the English language that are so overused that they have lost their meaning. Examples include awesome, totally, really and absolutely. This article highlights eight more. So what do we do about the term special needs? If you ask disability rights activists and self-advocates, many will share that they think special needs is a euphemism that has to go. Michelle Sutton, a neurodiversity rights activist, in My Needs Are Not Special writes: “They are not “special” needs. They are needs I have because of disability. Saying it differently doesn’t change the fact. Saying it differently actually perpetuates the stigma around disability, increases the likelihood people will continue to see me as other and broken, and decreases the chance my needs will be met…All people have needs. When their needs are met, all people live their lives well. All people receive help to see their needs met from time to time. Our society works on shared ideas, spaces and resources. Assisting a non-disabled person to see their needs met is not perceived as heroic, patient or inherently good. It is called living life in community.” This same point is illustrated in the article, “He Ain’t Special, He’s My Brother” – Time to Ditch the Phrase “Special Needs” written by Catia Malaquias and published on Starting w/Julius: “The word “special” is used to sugar-coat segregation and societal exclusion – and its continued use in our language, education systems, media, etc. serves to maintain those increasingly antiquated “special” concepts that line the path to a life of exclusion and low expectations…Further, the “special needs” label sets up the medical “care” model to disability rather than the social inclusion model of disability. It narrows and medicalises society’s response to the person by suggesting that the focus should be on “treating” their “special needs”, rather than on the person’s environment responding to and accommodating the person – including them for the individual that they are.” But here is the point that resonates with me most deeply: “There is another insidious but serious consequence of being labeled (as having or being) “special needs”. The label carries with it the implication that a person with “special needs” can only have their needs met by “special” help or “specially-trained” people – by “specialists”. That implication is particularly powerful and damaging in our mainstream schooling systems – it is a barrier to mainstream schools, administrators and teachers feeling responsible, empowered or skilled to embrace and practice inclusive education in regular classrooms, and accordingly perpetuates attitudinal resistance to realising the human right to inclusive education…In other words, the language of “special needs” leads to, and serves to excuse, a “can’t do” attitude as the default position of many general educators – it effectively deprives inclusive education of its necessary oxygen – a conducive “can do” classroom culture.” I continue to be astounded by the number of times that I lead training sessions and am met by the comment, “Yes, but you are trained in special education;” a comment designed to suggest that I am the expert and therefore I am the only one who can do this work successfully. I have said it before and I will say it again: special education is just good education. Maybe I need to shout it: SPECIAL EDUCATION IS JUST GOOD EDUCATION. The tips and tricks and strategies that make a classroom or a lesson successful for a student with a disability are the SAME tips, tricks and strategies that will benefit ALL CHILDREN. Do teachers have to get creative? YES Do teachers have to put in the time to prepare differentiated lessons that address diverse needs? YES Do teachers have to know their students well to truly understand their needs? YES But this is the work that teachers must do for ALL CHILDREN. And it is work that ALL TEACHERS CAN DO. So I am in agreement. It is absolutely time to lose the phrase special needs. It’s time to reclaim our language and use the words we mean. Because every single one of us is special in some way, and we each have something awesome to contribute to the world we live in and it is absolutely our collective responsibility to make living in shared community a meaningful reality. 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As we mark the 30th anniversary of the ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) we can joyfully celebrate the many accomplishments to date as we think deeply about the work that still lies ahead. A moving resource is the ADA Legacy Project's "Because of the ADA I..." campaign, which offers a collection of inspirational quotes and stories made possible by this groundbreaking legislation. When I conduct professional workshops and training sessions for Jewish leaders seeking to become more inclusive, I typically begin by asking them to share their definition of inclusion. (There are fun & catchy ways to do this including using the prompt define inclusion in three words or less.) The reason for this set-induction is two-fold; first, it focuses participants on the task at hand and second, it helps participants to recognize, up front, that there is no universal definition of inclusion. You may be wondering why that matters. No universal definition or standard of inclusion means that individual organizations and school districts must figure out for themselves what inclusion means and how it might best be accomplished in their setting. The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) guarantees that people with disabilities have the same opportunities as everyone else to enjoy employment opportunities, to purchase goods and services, and to participate in state and local government programs and services. The Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) governs how states and public agencies provide early intervention, special education, and related services to infants, toddlers, children, and youth with disabilities. Both of these laws prohibit discrimination. Both laws describe appropriate accommodations. But neither actually defines or explains what it means to be inclusive. As a result, there is tremendous variation from state to state and district to district. It gets even more complicated for us in the Jewish world. As privately run religious institutions we are not bound by the ADA or IDEA. There are no legal mandates requiring us to make accommodations for and/or offer inclusive opportunities for people with disabilities and their families. Advocates of an inclusive Jewish world know that the inclusion of Jews of all abilities is the right, moral, and just thing to do. We know that we must look past legal mandates and turn, instead, to our own Jewish teachings and sensibilities to guide us to do what is right. But without laws or specific mandates, many Jewish leaders find themselves without the proper support and guidance to make inclusion a reality. Questions I am frequently asked include: How do we start? What do we do? How can we seek to bring more people into our community if we can’t accommodate their needs once they are there? Why is it that some people feel inclusion means everyone all together all the time while others prefer a balance of separate and inclusive opportunities? How do we choose what is right and what is really inclusive? A powerful exercise to move the conversation forward can be to explore what inclusion is NOT. Jewish leaders can make strides toward a more inclusive culture when they avoid common pitfalls and assumptions: Inclusion is NOT saying that you welcome everyone – plastering it on websites and brochures - and then having meetings, programs, or events where the same core group attends and sticks together while others are left outside that “inner circle”. Inclusion is NOT an event or a program where you invite people with disabilities to share their experiences. (That can be a really meaningful experience for everyone, by the way – it’s just not inclusion in and of itself.) Inclusion is NOT a favor you do for someone. Inclusion is NOT a social action project or something your social action committee is “in charge of handling”. Inclusion, when it is part of the culture of a community, offers everyone an opportunity to participate in a wide variety of meaningful experiences. Inclusion is NOT a place or a person – it’s not a classroom, a quiet room, the inclusion teacher, the inclusion specialist. Inclusion is who we are and what we do. It can’t be an after-thought or a last minute accommodation when someone with a disability “shows up”. Inclusion is NOT accidentally sending the message to be thankful that you are “whole”. This is the “I’m so lucky I don’t have (fill-in-the-blank)” concept which conveys a message of pity rather than a celebration of the gifts each person has to offer. The message is clear: Inclusion matters, legal mandates or not. It is incumbent upon each organization to develop an understanding of inclusion and work toward creating a vibrant community that includes and supports everyone. I'd love to help your community on its journey. Don't miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

There is an image that I first encountered on Twitter that instantly captivated me: “If only our eyes saw souls instead of bodies, how very different our ideals of beauty would be.” If only… Here is another image that I discovered on Pinterest: “How others see you is not important. How you see yourself means everything." And while I love the potential that this image represents, I also recognize the challenges. This could represent pushing ourselves father than we are truly capable. This could mean giving in to the dangers of eating disorders or other self-injurious behaviors because we are never satisfied with what we see... Yet, when we combine the two images and teach our children and ourselves to see souls and not physical attributes, how stunning the potential. And finally, there is this image: "See the able, not the label." How might these images help you lift the value of inclusion? Don't miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block: photo credits to nationalautism.org, themetapicture.com, and pinwords

I have said often that inclusion is not a program. And inclusion is not something that we do for people with disabilities. Rather, inclusion is a mindset, an attitude, a way of thinking that opens doors to opportunities for meaningful engagement, contribution and belonging. But is that enough? Can we just think good thoughts and have the right attitudes and POOF all will be inclusive? It seems fairly obvious that we have to DO something to make inclusion a reality. So, I have drafted my suggestions for an inclusion to-do list: What will you put on your to-do list in the year ahead to make your school, your organization, your faith community more inclusive? Never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

There’s a terrific image floating around Pinterest for teaching diversity: Speaks for itself, right? Well, it got me thinking. (You’re not surprised, are you?) I found myself wondering how I might use this image to create an activity that not only teaches diversity in skin color, race or ethnicity, but also includes conversation about disability. The Egg Activity to Teach Diversity & Inclusion Materials: 1 small white egg 1 extra large white egg 1 brown egg 1-2 eggs (any color) with marks or “imperfections” 1-2 eggs (any color) with slight cracks (not enough to break the egg open) Activity: 1. Display all of the eggs. 2. Ask students to describe the various eggs, noting similarities and differences. Be sure to highlight the following differences: · Size of eggs · Color of eggs · Markings · Cracks 3. Direct students to guess what the eggs will look like inside. 4. Crack each egg open in a separate bowl. 5. Compare how, despite the exterior differences, all of the eggs are the same on the inside. Depending on students’ age; emphasize the ways we tend to underestimate people and their abilities when we judge them only by the way they look. Discuss how this might positively change the way we treat people in the future. Variations for older students: 1. If your classroom has been established as a safe space, some older children and/or teens may feel comfortable sharing their own challenges and/or disabilities as a part of this conversation. This could be the perfect opportunity to discuss such “invisible disabilities” as dyslexia, processing disorders, anxiety, etc. Possible extension: 1. Make a list of things that are important about you that others would easily know just by looking. Make a second list of things that are important about you that others would not be able to know just by looking. Which list is longer? Which list feels more important? What can this teach us about ourselves and other people? Sign up here to be sure you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

This is the time of year when teachers are busy setting up their classrooms and preparing for the new year ahead. The focus is on designing welcoming spaces and thinking about ways to create a positive learning climate. In addition to the content preparation, student background and decorations, teachers need to focus on ways to develop positive, healthy relationships both with and among their students. These relationships are at their best when they are built on a foundation of trust. In Building Trust in a Classroom I shared four ideas for making this a reality: rarely use the word wrong, develop an atmosphere of trust rather than simply talking about it, demonstrate emotional consistency and foster a joyful classroom. However, it is often so much easier to talk about these ideas than it can be to actually do them. I am often asked HOW. Teachers may fully understand the concept and want to do this successfully, but they seek to learn the best activities for building trusting relationships. “The best activities” is subjective. Any expert teacher can suggest their favorites. And of course we should share these ideas widely with one another. But what makes any activity the “best” is a combination of a teacher’s personality and teaching style, student personalities, the dynamic between students, preparation and a myriad of other logistic factors. I frequently share the activity in A Lesson to Build Relationships as it is terrific with older elementary students, middle school students and teens. Here is another activity designed for young elementary and preschool-aged children. Buddy Walk to Build Trust Design a simple obstacle course with objects and items that you have readily available. Teach the word/idea trust to students. Demonstrate the obstacle course to the children. Pair children and explain that they will need to trust their partner to help them through the obstacles. Have children work through the course. Teacher should float through the activity using the language of trust to encourage, support and assist students as needed. Pairs switch so the other partner can go through the course. Bring group back together and reflect on the experience, highlighting the ways that trust was successful and brainstorming ways to improve where trust was more challenging. Variation: For slightly older students (grades 3-4), one partner can be blindfolded as the other leads him/her through the course. Do not blindfold any student who is fearful. Again, the "best" activity for your classroom will be the one you work hard to plan, think through and enjoy along with your students. What are some of your favorite activities for building trusting relationships? Never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block:

This post contain affiliate links. One of the things I most often discuss when leading inclusion training sessions to be more inclusive is the importance of reframing. We discuss reframing attitudes and reframing language, notions that tend to be fairly easy to understand, even if challenging to consistently apply. Somehow, for teachers, the place they most get stuck is when it comes to reframing their lesson plans. Even with the right intentions, many teachers find it difficult to consistently design lessons with an eye toward inclusion. There is also a lot that good teachers take for granted, especially in successful classrooms. I am guilty of this, too. When we have activities and strategies that have been successful, why would we think about changing them? Because to be truly inclusive is to look at every lesson, every activity, every strategy and ask ourselves, "is this inclusive?" Accommodating isn't the same as inclusion illustrates this concept. It might be "fine" to adapt an activity or add a component to it to make it more successful for specific students, but it is truly inclusive when we reframe the entire activity in a way that makes this addition a seamless part of the whole. Celebrating Our Mistakes With thanks to Michelle Steinhart of Temple Israel Center in White Plains, NY for this excellent idea! As teachers set up classrooms - organizing, labeling and decorating - many are also thinking about systems of behavior management. Most are reading student files and will reach out to begin getting to know their students before the school year even begins. Teachers may learn that a particular student is a "perfectionist", one who struggles to let work go when she thinks she has possibly made a mistake or who will have a meltdown when she does something "wrong". A typical system of behavior management (I am NOT a fan! Read why.) would likely have this student earning tickets or stars each time she is able to hand in an assignment with only one revision. Reframe the system: Begin with a classroom discussion of making mistakes and failing as a part of the learning process. Create a system where each student gets to put a marble in the jar when he or she has made a mistake. Just as in other, more traditional systems, the class will earn a reward when the jar is full. What's different? First, students are taught that mistakes are a part of the process of learning and growing. Next, the student who struggles to let work go or has a meltdown when he has made a mistake is no longer singled out. Rather, he is celebrated and comes to learn that he has something valuable to contribute to the classroom community. Finally, this is a system that celebrates diversity rather than penalizing students for not conforming to an arbitrary set of ideals. Buy what you need: Sign up here so you never miss a post from Removing the Stumbling Block: