Lifelines: An Ethnographic Study of an IEP Student

Abstract

Because sometimes I live in a hurricane of words and not one of them can save me. Naomi Shihab Nye, Know Who You Are S everal summers ago in raft-guide school, I learned a valuable lesson that can be applied in the classroom: Have a prepared rescue plan for nearly every imaginable scenario. Anticipate. More often than not, however, this nugget of knowledge was passed down to novice guides without the opportunity to practice the skills in low-stakes situations. As a result, my only summer as a raft guide I depended on luck. Guiding by intuition may have been acceptable for pleasure payers but not for students who would be left in my trust in the classroom. Whether teaching or guiding vacationers down rivers, there is a chance that something could go wrong. Some days are calm; others are turbulent. Before I student taught, while I had the time to observe other teachers in action, my goal was to become a knowledgeable guide who understands the nature and nebulous patterns of learning differences so that I could steer students to success. In a Literacy and Culture class at Lewis and Clark College, I had an aha moment: If I was going to be able to recognize, anticipate, and prevent the holes that swallow students' ability to participate in a community of learners, I needed data. I became an ethnographer, collecting copious amounts of field notes in a study of one student with literacy challenges. After too many near-death experiences as a river guide, I appreciated having the time to prepare a thoughtful teaching plan for my first year. I intended to use this case study as a reference for how I could modify instruction for future students with diverse learning needs.