Tag: learning

Therapeutic Program Community: Where Is Everybody?

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This is the last in a series of 10 opinion articles about inclusion and mental health in schools.


By my estimation, there are thousands of programs in school districts across the United States for students with significant social, emotional, and behavioral challenges. Many programs are segregated from general education, while others practice inclusion models. Due to budget imperatives and least restrictive environment rules, this has been true for many years. These programs exist internationally as well, which is even more difficult to enumerate.

Laura Balogh and I had significant experience to draw on when we were tasked with designing a new therapeutic inclusion program in 2019. On top of our experience, we looked for published resources we could use to draw inspiration and to reference in support of our ideas.

But, having looked for relevant resources before, I knew there were very few. The lack of professional discourse about our work was, and continues to be, a subject of great puzzlement for me. In the early days of our program Laura and I decided to write The Therapeutic Inclusion Program so that there would be at least one reference specific to therapeutic inclusion programming for others to use, and hopefully prompt further conversation and writing in the community.

So, where is everybody? I have found I am more likely to meet and have a conversation with someone who works in a therapeutic education program at a random event like a concert than I am in seeking professional exchanges online.

There are vibrant and active professional communities and conversations around psychology, and education, taking place online and in the publishing world. Why is it that in these same arenas, people do not want to talk about the important work of educating students with significant social, emotional, and behavioral challenges?

The work of inclusive therapeutic education is endlessly interesting and deeply important. Furthermore, significant budgetary resources are at stake. To me, these factors and others indicate that inclusive therapeutic education is well worth talking about, and in fact needs to be talked about. 

The work of inclusive education for this group of students is deeply interesting. In school, our students must grow their way through academics, social demands/opportunities, their orientation toward authority, and that’s just scratching the surface. The challenges and opportunities of being employed in inclusive therapeutic education are no less dynamic and interesting. 

The work of educating students with significant social, emotional, and behavioral challenges could hardly be more important! In our roles as inclusive educators we have a tremendous and exciting opportunity to have a positive impact on students and families that are struggling. This opportunity has always been the most energizing part for me. We meet students and families at a critical juncture in their lives, where it is possible through our work to support a more positive trajectory. The impact of our efforts potentially resonate far into the future. The work is as rewarding as it is challenging, and well suited to those of us who thrive under these conditions with the right support. 

Regarding the budgetary concerns, school districts are spending a lot of money on out-of-district placements, and in-district programming for our population of students. The expense of out-of-district-placements, in Massachusetts for example, easily average over $100,000 per year, per student (Murray & Balogh, 2023, p.136). Creating programming in-district is also expensive, as far as hiring and maintaining staff. The well-being of program children, staff, and families are more than enough reason for robust professional conversation. However, if anyone needs something more measurable, how about dollars? While districts spend big money on programming for students with significant social, emotional, and behavioral challenges, they have almost no idea and very few resources to draw on regarding what actually works.

We need to talk about what works and what doesn’t seem to work in inclusive education for students with significant social, emotional, and behavioral challenges. What should we measure? What is the value of our measures? And, what is immeasurable? Like any arena of work, we should be developing and revising best practices in robust conversation in person, online, and in published material. 

Tell me, what do you think?

References 
Murray, M.A. & Balogh, L. (2023) The therapeutic inclusion program: Establishment and maintenance in public schools. Routledge.

The Importance of “We’re All In This Together”

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When you hear “that’s not in my job description” it’s a discouraging indication regarding staff morale and staff’s ability to work as a team.

I’m writing from a place centered on inclusive school programming for students with significant social, emotional, and behavioral difficulties. These programs are sometimes called “therapeutic programs.”

What our students need most from staff is reliability and adults who work together. The best way to provide this dependably is through the overlap of staff functions. When the abilities of staff members largely overlap, a resilient and flexible net is created, with the security provided by redundancy. By “redundancy” I mean that if one staff member is out sick or otherwise unavailable, other staff members are capable of doing the same work.

I visualize this as overlapping circles of ability and responsibility. This is what we want, as opposed to unique staff abilities and responsibility gaps that make a program rigid and unreliable.

So, what does healthy staff overlap look like in more specific school situations? Here’s a concrete example of what I mean: If a therapeutic program has a counselor and a special education teacher, the special education teacher will be doing plenty of counseling, and the counselor will be educating. They will often work side by side. I advocate for referring to them both as “therapeutic educators.” 

Naturally, over the course of their time and experience, they will both become better teachers and counselors. We should continue to respect their individual expertise and leadership within their unique roles, while adopting a flexible approach toward responding to the needs presented by the students.

Supervision is an important part of the program model I advocate for, which is an essential support to anyone doing therapeutic work – counselor, teacher, and paraprofessional included.

Similarly, when therapeutic program staff supports inclusion in a general education classroom, the ‘all in this together’ mentality makes all the difference. The general education teacher is responsible for educating all the students in the room. The therapeutic program staff member is responsible for providing needed support and accommodations to program students so that the general education teacher can deliver instruction.

Without losing sight of these clear priorities, there is room for overlap and flexibility, making for a much richer and more collaborative experience. The therapeutic program staff member can be supportive of the entire classroom. If the general education teacher and therapeutic program staff member are both sufficiently skilled they may trade roles at times, with the general education teacher providing specialized support while the program staff member holds and teaches the classroom group. In practice, this can be quite fluid. (If you’ve ever played basketball, it’s a lot like switching your defense assignment on the fly in person-to-person defense.)

Every staff member in the school is ultimately responsible for doing what they can to make the whole school function the best that it can. This mindset mutually supports the inclusive mindset we must have with the students. Alternately, when program staff has a siloed mindset, the program students experience siloing as well.

As a staff member of a therapeutic program, helping students and staff during the random opportunities that come up in a school day supports your prime responsibility of helping your program students receive non-stigmatizing, appropriate, inclusive education. I suggest seizing any opportunity that doesn’t actively interfere with your ability to attend to your primary responsibilities. 

As far as your job description/contract goes – I do think it’s important to maintain your lunches and preps, and to keep your work within your paid hours. That is part of avoiding burnout, staying with the work long-term, and building program stability.

When you’re ‘on the clock’, and not in your prep or lunch times, just do whatever you can to help the school. It will pay off in a better experience for your students and your school community.

References
Murray, M.A. & Balogh, L. (2023) The therapeutic inclusion program: Establishment and maintenance in public schools. Routledge.

Informing Students About Observations: My Unpopular Opinion

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Here’s my unpopular opinion: Students of any age in schools should be notified about formal observations. 

Student observations are a common and important evaluation method in special education. Observations are part of nearly every initial special education evaluation process, as well as many other processes including general progress measurement, re-evals, and as part of placement considerations.

My opinion rests on a few fundamental beliefs:

It is respectful and ethical to inform any person that they are being observed. It is a gesture of respect that most people would appreciate, regardless of whether they are minors.

It is best to maintain a classroom where any and every visitor is identified. A classroom, even a large classroom, is a defined and close group that spends an enormous amount of time together. All non-members who enter the space are noticed by most of the students. -And some students wonder, speculate, and worry about the purpose and intentions of visitors. All the members of the classroom group deserve an introduction of visitors and a brief explanation of their purpose. In my classroom, the student being observed will be aware of the specific purpose of the visitor. Depending on circumstances and the privacy preferences of that student and their parents, it may be appropriate to tell the class that the visitor is here to “see the classroom”. -A truth that respects privacy concerns.

The third fundamental belief I will share is a bit more complex to explain. I often hear the concern that knowledge of the observation might impact the student’s performance during the observation. This is true. We can’t easily measure or correct for the impact of knowledge of the observation on the student’s performance. But we also can’t easily measure or correct for the impact of having an unusual and unexplained person in the room observing. Given these two possibilities, I’d much rather choose the option in which people receive respectful communication.

In research involving minors, the relevant concepts are informed consent and informed assent. In research, it is best practice to obtain informed assent from minors along with informed consent from their guardians. In some cases researchers record the minor’s informed dissent along with their guardian’s informed consent. School observations should be treated with the same respect. A student’s dissent to being observed is valuable information to record in one’s observation, should it go forward.

I recommend informing the student about any upcoming observation some days in advance, and reminding them about it each day leading up to the observation. If the observer is unfamiliar to the student and there is an opportunity to have an introduction before the day of observation, I would recommend that as well. If that is not possible, sharing a picture of the observer will help decrease the uncertainty. I recommend that you simply treat the student with at least the same respect that we understand most people would appreciate being treated with under similar circumstances.

What Kind of Teacher Doesn’t Know the Answers?

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spoiler: sometimes not knowing the answers is what makes an educator great

The Constrained Psychology of Educators Part I

I’ve had time to observe many of the psychological pitfalls of being an educator in K-12 schools. The effect is one of constraint, where educators experience a limited scope of what is possible in the classroom. 

My work has been primarily with students in special education programs due to significant social, emotional, and behavioral challenges, and their educators. The intensity of the issues presented by these students bring school culture concerns into clearer focus, but many of these issues are pervasive throughout schools.

The layers of these constraining problems are built on a foundational idea about school: teachers have all the answers. What a reassuring idea! In some parts of school life, it’s true. Your second-grade math teacher has in fact memorized the multiplication tables, and more. 

It can be largely true in more complicated situations as well. Your special education teacher may be able to administer assessments and know quite confidently what reading intervention is likely to be effective. Special education teachers are often amazing.

And then we encounter a student who is really struggling emotionally. This emotional distress is showing up in their behavior and interfering with their access to education, and to some degree even interfering with other students’ access to education. The usual incentives and disincentives for “good student behavior” are ineffective. We have reached a point where we educators no longer know the answers. 

This is a frightening crossroads for many, cutting to the heart of the teacher identity. What kind of teacher doesn’t know the answers?

Blocking out this troubling question, educators seek quick answers, hoping to return to their regular knowledgeable position as quickly as possible. Someone administer an FBA! (Functional Behavioral Assessment) 

Educators are increasingly taught that the answers lie in data. Let me be clear, data is a fundamentally good thing – more information is better than less. But, educators fall prey to the comforting illusion of easy and understandable answers. They feel the pressure of the expectation to be an expert, and an expert teacher (or school counselor) must know the answers. Welcome to perfect storm conditions for imposter phenomenon. 

Children, their families, and classroom groups are complicated. An individual child can’t entirely account for their behavior, thoughts, and feelings. -Nor can we do it on their behalf. We can’t even entirely account for our own behavior! Have you ever done something you intended not to do, or not done something you intended to? Why do you keep doing that?

However, we can move toward deeper understanding together. Part of what Laura Balogh and I advocate for in our book The Therapeutic Inclusion Program is shifting the classroom culture toward curiosity, wonder, and collaboration. We can think about it together. The more we do that, the more we will understand, but we still won’t know all the answers.