Presuming Competence, Turkey Style

"The principle of “presuming competence,” is simply to act as Anne Sullivan did with Helen Keller.  Assume that a child has intellectual ability, provide opportunities to be exposed to learning, assume the child wants to learn and assert him or herself in the world. To not presume competence is to assume that some individuals cannot learn, develop, or participate in the world." (http://bit.ly/19vk9o1)

I realized today that while I have expected Josh's teachers to presume that he is competent, I don't hold myself to the same standard with them. I expect them to assume that he is capable of learning, to teach him to the best of their ability, to provide the supports he needs to access the curriculum.

The thought has slowly been coming clearer to me in the past month, but today it sunk in a little harder. I am not presuming enough competence with Josh's teachers.

Since it was the last school day of the month, Josh came home with the artwork that has been hung on the wall all month: the cutest turkey with googly eyes and popsicle stick feathers, with things to be thankful for on each stick. Josh's said mommy, and toys, and animals, and friends.

And when I thought about what was written on Josh's turkey feather sticks, I started to get irritated. I remembered a conversation I had been part of where mothers had voiced disgust about how classroom assistants had obviously done artwork themselves, and put a child's name on it and sent it home. And these mothers were angry that the assistants thought they could fool them, that they didn't give their child a chance to do the work themselves, and that they desperately wanted something authentic that their child did to hang on the fridge, and not something that was done for them.

And I instantly joined the club. Because my Josh had obviously not made this turkey himself. He hadn't even chosen the words to go on the feathers. I mean, I'm all for presuming competence and believing that Josh could have chosen mommy and toys and animals and friends if he had wanted to, but knowing Josh, it would have been more like Netflix, grandma's house, ice cream, train and uncle hoss, and it definitely wouldn't have been animals. We saw Santa at the mall today and I told Josh that he could ask him for a present for Christmas. He said Netflix. I mean, I know my boy, and I have communicated enough with him to know what is likely to come out of his words/signs, and it wasn't mommy toys animals friends.

And it took a few minutes of trying to find a way that I could bring it up with his teacher and let her know that if the other kids were making authentic artwork and writing stuff they were thankful for on popsicle sticks then I dang well expected Josh to have the same opportunity and not just have stereotypical things written for him and did they even bother to ask him what he was thankful for.

And I tried to find a way to say it that wasn't confrontational. That wouldn't put her on the defensive and make things worse. That would get my point across without alienating her.

And at the end of it, I realized that I am not presuming competence with Josh's teacher. That when I think back, all the turkeys looked pretty turkey-like. That maybe the turkeys were all premade and the kids chose pre-written sticks to glue on. That maybe the class helped choose things to write on the sticks as a class and that's why they didn't feel authentic to Josh. That maybe my kid wasn't the only one who had a grown-up do it for him. That maybe I wasn't making the least-dangerous-assumption, and thereby judging unfairly.

And I realized that I had a need to apologize. For jumping to conclusions. For making assumptions. Because Josh has a great teacher. And when we work together and find ways to provide Josh access to the curriculum, he rises to the occasion and participates, and (dare I say it?) learns! And I am grateful that Josh is in the class that he is, that he is being taught by a teacher who knows her stuff and is teaching him kindergarten curriculum and not a special ed-watered down pseudo version of it, that even if we haven't discovered all the tools Josh needs to completely access the curriculum, we've made a good start and we continue to try.

And that is the lesson I learned from a googly-eyed turkey with popsicle stick feathers today.