Issue of Ethics in Special Education - Case Study Example

Introduction Being into education of special children is not only competency challenging. It is similarly putting into test the values and attitudes of teachers and other relevant professionals who often face ethical dilemmas as they deal with children of special educational needs. In all professions ethical guidelines govern how members of the discipline interact with their clients and with other (see, for instance, the Council for Exceptional Children [CEC] Ethics and Practice Standards, 2007); however, the issue of ethics in special education in general is yet to get enough consideration and discussion (Paul et al., 2001). The succeeding sections are description of and reflection on an instance in my clinical exposure at a school for developmental/intellectual differently-able children, and are inclusive of an attempt to theorize on my experience viz. the current approaches to special education with an end view of coming up with suggestions to further the development of this discipline. Description of what happened I just had my clinical exposure in a school for special education, and I was assigned in a class with seven (7) students aged fifteen to eighteen (18). My usual day with them began with exercises, proceeded with learning sessions (where basic [i.e., survival skills], prevocational and vocational trainings were done), and punctuated by meal times and rest hours. I worked very closely with their teachers and assistant teachers, who were in the right position to help me make sense out of the uncommon world of special children. I saw myself meeting and interacting with the children’s parents, who were my source of valuable information about the genesis of the children’s condition and their different behaviors at home and outside the school. Too, I worked together with the other volunteers in the school, with who I compared notes and learned with. But, most importantly, I tried to form friendly relations with our seven students. They were our clients, anyway; and, it was for them that I did my clinical exposure. If I may highlight an encounter, I would like to mention about Moses, 16. He used to attend school for “normal” children until he was dismissed for “disruptive” behavior (Savage [1996] notes that labeling children with special education needs is common). His teacher reported – which we also confirmed – that he would not stay in his seat and attend to the activities in the classroom. He would make different noise, refuse to follow directions or turn his work in on time. He would disturb his classmates and turn aggressive to everyone in the classroom. His teacher in the “normal” school branded him a mischief, while his parents consider him manipulative and spoiled as he was a pre-term baby and has been overly protected by them and their extended family (see Wilmshurst & Brue 2005, pp. 105). The personnel of my school, however, suspected that Moses has attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). When he was referred to pediatric neurologist for evaluation and recommendations of apt treatment, the diagnosis jibed with that school personnel and the recommendation was for Moses to take Ritalin. Notwithstanding, though, Moses’ parents are still not convinced that their son has ADHD and may actually benefit from medication. Reflection on what happened In general terms, interaction with the differently-able children is a taxing experience precisely because it involves “different” children. That they perceive realities around them and that they process information in their head in a different way mean (see Burke & Cigno 2000, pp. 1) that they behave rather distinctly and that dealing with them especially in the classroom would require more than the conventional educational strategies. In fact, for all initiatives to interact with them to be successful, much is being required from their teachers, parents, and other family members. For one, my experience with differently-able children has challenged my framework of perceiving other people, particularly their behaviors. Understandably, I used to view the world around me through my own prism and standard. Then, I’ve realized that there’s actually a group of persons – whose dignity and worth are definitely not less than mine (see Paul et al. 2001 on their discussion about principle-based ethics) – who need to be met where they are and related with as they are. In the concrete, encountering them has put to task my concept of normalcy (Beveridge 1999, pp. 11). At the very least, I’ve come to realize that my idea of what is normal is just a sociological construct (see Mauro 2009). That is, it is conditioned by a (sociologically) dominant group’s biases – among other things. Expectedly, people who process perceptual information differently (from the majority of the members of society) and, by implication, who behave “queerly” are not considered normal. And, the sad thing is that people usually either look down upon them or refuse to associate with them. Too, the measure that is used on them – even in educational institutions – does not recognize their peculiarities and fails to factor in their rightful elements. And this stems from our misunderstanding of them, especially of their uncommon conditions. I thought of Moses and how he was labeled “disruptive” and “mischief” by his former school. A question in my mind was: if the school staff knew that Moses is an ADHD case, would they be charitable to him by tagging him with positive label? Again, I thought of Moses and his parents and their refusal to let him be given medication. The specialist recommends a medicine; but Moses’ parents think that such medical recourse is only for the “abnormal”. And, for them, Moses is not – not because he really is not, but because they do not want to have one (see similar instance as cited by Miller, 2004). I continued to reflect on the idea of normalcy. If it’s indeed just a sociological construct, then essentially it’s bound to change. I just hope it changes more swiftly enough, so there will be less Moses who will be misunderstood, rejected for who they really are, and unattended with their real needs. Theorizing on what happened Special education is quite a new discipline, but a fast developing one (see Paul et al., 2001). Testament of this is the array of tested systems of interventions that are currently available to facilitate learning for special children. Obviously, though, there are still a number of gaps that need to be filled to make special education much more effective. This section is never exhaustive; it will simply highlight three issues that are closely pertinent to my clinical experience. Firstly, special education needs especially-trained teachers (see US Department of Labor, pp. 234). These teachers are expected to be not just skillful in any of the handy systems of interventions. More so, they are expected to understand better the conditions of the special children and more willingly accept them as they are. I understand that an ethical demand is on the shoulders of the special education agents to continually update themselves to ensure effective and efficient service. As in the case of Moses, the special educationists are to take care of a case over which the teachers in the “normal” school do not have competency. Even so, special education teachers normally deal with students whose IQ’s are below average – thus, requiring a great deal of patience and whole new methodologies of teaching. Be that as it may, it is equally important that, no matter how especially-trained they are, special education agents have to recognize the boundaries of their professional competence (see SEN 2000). This another ethical requirements needs to be understood in a context, thus: most of institutions for special education are actually operating with shoestring budgets as most of them thrive just with either government funding (that goes along with so many preconditions) or support from charities (which are occasionally steady); and, yet, it is precisely this field that caters to the learners on individual basis as it is sensitive to students’ differences. For instance, the case of Moses exemplifies the need for a neurologist to determine how he’s going to be handled in the school. That is, with limited resources, institutions for special education are expected to do more meticulous educational functions, which under usual circumstances normally require other professionals or competent agents. Given this limitation, it pays to state time and again the need for special education teachers to stick to what they are trained for, but at the same time regularly to engage in professional development. Thirdly, the issue of confidentiality is another concern of ethical import in special education (see Hammeken 2009, pp. 28-33). Notably, Paul et al (2001) has remarked that this discipline has become self-referenced. This must be because of the great variety of materials that special children may provide. It is primarily along this line that confidentiality is to be observed. For, in this field, everything that anyone learns about a student is confidential. Besides, information may be released only with the permission of the student, his/her guardians or parents. It similarly extends to the way students’ records are stored and disposed (DCSD 2000?). Otherwise, special children become “guinea pigs” of academic or scientific studies. Conclusion If there is one thing that my clinical exposure taught me very emphatically it is the fact that special education caters to human beings who, on no fault of their own, suffer from conditions that keep them in the periphery of society. For this, everything that happens inside the institutions for special education has to be governed by the rules of ethics because ethics ensures that dignity and interests of human beings are respected and served. References: Beveridge, S., 1999. Special educational needs in schools. New York: Routledge. Burke, P. & Cigno, K., 2000. Learning disabilities for children. Malden (MA): Blackwell Science, Ltd. Council for Exceptional Children. 2007. CEC ethics and practice standards. [Online]. Available at: http://www.cec.sped.org/Content/NavigationMenu/ProfessionalDevelopment/ProfessionalStandards/EthicsPracticeStandards/default.htm [Accessed 12 November 2009]. Hammeken, P., 2009. The paraprofessional’s essential guide to inclusive education. Thousand Oaks (CA): Corwin Press. Mauro, T., 2009. Weekday reflection: normal. Terri’s Special Children Blog. [Online]. Available at: http://specialchildren.about.com/b/2009/09/01/weekday-reflection-normal.htm [Accessed 13 November 2009]. Miller, S., 2004. Demand on special (education) is growing. The Christian Science Monitor, [Online]. August. Available at: http://www.csmonitor.com/2004/0824/p01s03-ussc.html [Accessed 13 November 2009]. Paul, J. French, P. & Cranston-Gingras, A., 2001. Ethics and special education. Focus on Exceptional Children, [Online]. September. Available at: http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qa3813/is_200109/ai_n8980522/?tag=content;col1 [Accessed 12 November 2009]. Savage, T., 1996. Ethical issues surrounding attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. Pediatric Nursing, [Online]. May-June. Available at: http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0FSZ/is_n3_v22/ai_n18607014/ [Accessed 12 November 2009]. Special Education News (SEN), 2000. Paraeducator’s role is changing amid teachers’ shortage. [Online]. Available at: http://www.specialednews.com/educators/ednews/paraeds051900.html [Accessed 14 November 2009]. The Douglas County School District (DCSD), 2000?. Confidentiality. Available at: http://dcsd.k12.nv.us/filedb/file1296.pdf [Accessed 14 November 2009]. The US Department of Labor, 2006. Occupational outlook handbook, 2006-2007 ed. New York: McGraw-Hill. Wilmshurst, L. & Brue, A., 2005. A parent’s guide to special education: insider advice on how to navigate the system and help your child to succeed. 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