If children are marked as at age 10, again at 14, and again at 16, their motivation will die, and they will spiral downward. They will be robbed of an education and marked forever as failures who have no worth. Surely, Ms. Holbrook suggests, this is not what the Massachusetts board of education intended when it ordered all Massachusetts special-needs students to take the MCAS. SARAH is in fourth grade. She's the daughter of two professional parents and has an older brother, whom she lovingly describes as a pain in the neck. Every time she writes an entry in her journal, she's eager to include one of her brother's adventures. Her teacher has taught her to start each entry with a line that grabs the reader's attention. My, what a week this has been! or You're not going to believe what my brother did this time! Sarah loves to write, always filling a page or two with ease. She's bright and clever, eager and creative. Her words are engaging and her stories pull you in. But Sarah can't read her own writing, and I can't either. She brings her weekly journal to my special education resource room each Thursday, and together we labor over the confusion of half words and reversed letters. The sentences are literally endless, with that one capital and maybe that final period. In the middle are wonderful ideas, but we can't figure out where they start and end. Little by little, word by word, Sarah and I piece together the writing. She says, Oh yes, I remember, that's the word uncle. My uncle had a flat tire. And I ask, Sarah, could that be the word Was your dog shaking? The story takes form, but Sarah's luster is fading. She knows her failings. She knows that, as hard as she tries, she can't spell or read like other students. She knows that, as fast as these stories emerge, she can't reread them. Ideas start and stop in her mind, but she can't find them on her paper. Sarah has a learning disability that affects all that she does during the school day. Social studies, science, and math all require reading and writing, which Sarah labors over daily. School is a struggle from beginning to end, but Sarah perseveres with the support of her family and teachers. Sarah has been tested, and her intellectual potential is above average. Through a series of subtests that involve verbal and nonverbal tasks, it's discovered that Sarah has the learning potential of students her age and older. However, on certain tasks that involve the perception of visual information, her brain confuses the images. It's particularly evident when she encounters symbols. When asked to reproduce those skewed images in writing, her brain once again confuses the message. Her coordination is weak, and the letters are labored and poorly formed. Her writing is a series of words with omitted, misordered, or illegible letters. In terms that we can relate to, Sarah reads, spells, and writes like a student at the end of first grade. She has the interests, experiences, and enthusiasm of a 10-year-old, but her work in school is that of a 7-year-old. When Sarah was in kindergarten, her ability to master readiness skills was strong. She was well socialized and had good background information from an enriched home life and some preschool experience. Her parents and teachers were prepared for her to experience school success in all ways. However, by the middle of first grade, Sarah's progress was slowing. As the demands of decoding the symbols for letters and numbers increased, Sarah was not moving forward. Her peers were already building an automatic sight vocabulary and were playing with the phonic units of reading and spelling. All this eluded Sarah. She was struggling with the basic deciphering of the very direction of the symbol or with associating a cluster of visual information (letters) with its meaning as a word. By the end of first grade, it was recommended that Sarah get the help of a remedial reading teacher. …
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