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The notion of inclusion and the term ‘inclusive education’ came to prominence in the mid 1990s and, as many commentators have noted, they have been the subject of much debate and controversy. This paper will examine how inclusive education has come to be defined in the UK, highlighting some of the contradictory strands inherent within both policy and practice.
Contemporary commentary and research on the contested nature
of current practice will be reviewed together with an outline of some
emergent factors for successful inclusion. It would seem that any
assessment of who benefits from inclusive education depends largely
upon the particular perspective taken about the nature and aims of
education itself. It is argued that inclusive education potentially
benefits children, parents, educators and communities alike if it is
conceived as an essentially broad and all-encompassing process which
values genuine diversity in individual learning needs.
The origin of ‘special needs’: a question of definition
It seems that ideas about what inclusive education actually means
are intimately tied up with the concept of ‘special educational needs’
(SEN) and it is useful, therefore, to look at the historical context of
this concept. Until the 1980s, as Frederickson and Cline (2002, p.35)
note, the predominant focus was on identifying and providing for
‘handicapped individuals’ according to a list of 12 classified
categories of disability. Following the Warnock Report of 1978, there
was a recognition that children’s experiences of difficulties did not
fit neatly into such a rigid categorization which tended to perpetuate
a sharp distinction between ‘the disabled’ and ‘the non-disabled’.
Rather than children being assigned to a category of disability, it was
recommended that they be assessed on the basis of a detailed profile of
their needs.
Special educational needs, thus, were seen to lie on a continuum with
ordinary needs, with the proposition that services, likewise, should be
provided on a continuum, rather than through segregation in either
special or mainstream schools (Frederickson and Cline, 2002).
Provision, as defined by the Warnock Committee, was seen as ranging
from full-time integration into the mainstream classroom, through
special classes or residential units together with some shared lessons
in ordinary school, to long-term education in a residential
institution. Although this new shift in thinking was welcomed by many,
some of those who advocated the education of all children in mainstream
schools were less impressed. Booth (1981), for example, suggested that
there appeared to be little indication from the Warnock Report that
educational policy was likely “to move to a position where fewer
handicapped children would be educated in segregated forms of
provision” (Sheehy and Kellett, 2004, p.43).
The focus of provision for children with SEN, then, shifted from
separate services towards those that were additional, or supplementary,
to the education normally available in mainstream schools. Research
shows that although there has been a significant increase in the
proportion of children with SEN receiving education in mainstream
schools since the Education Act of 1981, The Audit Commission of 1998
showed that 48% of SEN children continued to be educated in ‘special’
schools. Furthermore, considerable variation in provision between
local education authorities has been reported. The national review of
inclusive education conducted by researchers Sebba and Sachdev (1997)
identified only one LEA in England, Newham, as having adopted a
comprehensive policy of inclusive education (Frederickson and Cline,
2002).
Tomlinson (1982) describes some of the factors contributing to the
continued support for separate special schools. For example, many
teachers felt that the needs of SEN pupils were best met in separate
provision where they would benefit from smaller class sizes, better
differentiated curricula and a greater level of individual attention.
Calls for the retention of special schools were also made through the
discourse of the children’s rights agenda (Tomlinson, 1982). As Sheehy
and Kellett note, “what was seen as segregation by some was valued as a
positive choice by others” (2004, p.44).
One argument often cited in favour of segregated education for SEN is
that such provision makes use of specialist teaching materials,
techniques and methods. However, this has been challenged by
researchers such as Lewis and Norwich (2000) who failed to find
evidence for such distinctive practice and strategies and concluded
that it was probably more useful to consider “a continuum of
adaptations to generally effective teaching approaches that were
successful for all learners” (Frederickson and Cline, 2002, p.64).
The British government, through the Department for Education, has
endorsed UNESCO’s plea “to adopt the principle of inclusive education,
enrolling all children in regular schools unless there are compelling
reasons for doing otherwise” (UNESCO, 1994, p.44). As Frederickson and
Cline observe, the government is committed to maintaining specialist
provision in order to cater for the individual needs of children unmet
in the mainstream system, but alongside this, the aim is to “return
children to the mainstream and to increase the skills and resources in
mainstream schools” (2002, p.65). This commitment has prompted a move
away from past models of integration. Ainscow (1995) presents a useful
analysis of the difference between integration and inclusion.
Integration involves the assimilation of the pupil with different
educational needs from the majority into the dominant school model,
with the onus on the pupil to change in order to fit in. Inclusion
implies a more radical restructuring of school practices through the
adaptation of curricula, methods, materials and skills in order to
respond more effectively to the needs of all children (Ainscow, 1995).
UK law stipulates that the inclusion of children with special
educational needs must ensure that efficient education is also provided
for mainstream pupils (DES, 1989). Research has been carried out in
the United States by Straub and Peck (1994) examining the outcomes for
mainstream students where their education included integral provision
for SEN pupils (Frederickson and Cline, 2002). Common concerns
expressed by parents, in particular, included the fear that mainstream
students might lose out on teacher time and attention and may copy or
pick up inappropriate behaviours from SEN pupils. Given that research
in this area is somewhat limited, these findings nevertheless concluded
that “none of the studies found any deceleration of academic progress
for the mainstream students”, furthermore “teacher time spent attending
to mainstream pupils was not found to be affected by the presence of
students with severe disabilities and mainstream children did not pick
up ‘undesirable’ behaviour” (Frederickson and Cline, 2002, p.77).
Manset and Semmel (1997) have studied a number of different inclusion
programmes and reviewed the outcomes for pupils with moderate learning
difficulties (MLD) as well as those without any designated
difficulties. They found variable results for the progress made by the
MLD pupils as compared to pupils with similar difficulties educated in
separate programmes. Progress in literacy and maths for the MLD pupils
varied in the inclusion and separate programmes with no conclusive
evidence favouring either setting being produced. However, all of the
studies comparing the progress of non-SEN pupils found greater
improvements for these pupils within inclusive settings than for those
who attended classes, in the same school district, where inclusion was
not practiced (Manset and Semmel, 1997). The researchers concluded
that “efforts to transform the mainstream into an effective environment
for students with disabilities may also have a positive impact on
normally achieving students, at least on measures of basic skills”
(Manset and Semmel, 1997, p.177).
Government policy documents have shown recognition of the dangers of a
narrow conception of special educational needs. The Department for
Education, for example, suggested that “schools should not
automatically assume that children’s learning difficulties always
result solely or even mainly from problems within the child. The
school’s practices can make a difference – for good or ill” (1994,
para.2.19). Similarly, the National Curriculum Council asserted that
“special educational needs are not just a reflection of pupil’s
inherent difficulties or disabilities; they are often related to
factors within schools which can prevent or exacerbate problems” (1989,
para.5). The Code of Practice on SEN states that “it should be
recognized that some difficulties in learning may be caused or
exacerbated by the school’s learning environment or adult/child
relationships” (DfES, 2001, para.5.6).
An interactional approach which reframes children as having
differential educational needs, rather than some children as having
‘special educational needs’ may be more helpful and appropriate. Booth
(1993) supports this idea, suggesting that “we should talk of children
who experience difficulties in learning in schools to indicate that
such difficulties arise in the context of a relationship between
teachers, pupils and the curricula” (Frederickson and Cline, 2002,
p.44)..
Commentators, such as Deforges (1997) have highlighted the importance
of distinguishing between SEN in terms of individual children
identified as having learning difficulties and special needs defined by
group phenomena such as language, culture, overt racism and
socioeconomic disadvantage. Frederickson and Cline (2002) make the
point that the two concepts of SEN and special needs are commonly
confused in schools with often serious consequences, such as “low
expectations being held of all children from ethnic and linguistic
minorities” and “expecting the same staff to have expertise in teaching
reading to children who are making slow progress and in teaching
English as a second language” (p.37). Dyson (1990), for example,
points out that the education system does not favour every child
equally. He suggests that instead of education seeking to change the
individual, we should be searching for ways to change education to
accommodate the characteristics and needs of all children (Dyson, 1990).
In the light of this discussion, then, the notion of inclusive
education can be seen as representative of an active response from
educational settings involving school improvement, an express remit to
meet individual learning needs and to promote understanding of human
rights and community. Booth and colleagues characterise inclusion as a
set of continuous processes which “requires schools to engage in a
critical examination of what can be done to increase the learning and
participation of the diversity of students within the school and its
locality” (2000, p.12). In similar vein, Frederickson and Cline define
inclusion as a ‘process of change’ and they cite Reynolds (1989) who
suggests that inclusion is “best regarded as a progressive trend for
taking responsibility for educating groups previously excluded from
mainstream society” (2002, p.63).
Policy and practice: some contradictions
Contemporary national policy, as we have seen, clearly favours
inclusion as a desirable aim, yet many writers have observed the
contradictions that are apparent when it comes to translating inclusion
into practice. Croll and Moses (2000), for example, point out that
local education authorities can find the move towards inclusive
policies difficult, often because there can be vested interests in
keeping things unchanged. In practice, this can mean that, for
example, the closure of a special school, as part of the drive for
mainstream inclusion, can attract strong opposition, especially when it
has received good inspection reports. Teachers and schools can also
show resistance. In their study in 1999, Croll and Moses found that
school heads and teaching staff almost unanimously favoured the
continuation of special schools, especially for those children whom
they identified as having emotional and behavioural problems. There
was however, some contradiction found in these views. Croll and Moses
summarise their findings thus:
“There is no commitment among the teachers in the survey to inclusion
as a generalized educational ideology, and there is a strong awareness
of the pragmatic case for special schools to reduce the pressures on
the mainstream. But, at the same time, there is a good deal of
inclusive practice in the classrooms in the study, with teachers
committed to meeting very considerable levels of educational needs in
the mainstream”(Rix et al, 2004, p.33).
It would seem, then, that although there is an expressed ambivalence
about the benefits of inclusion, this nevertheless sits alongside
evidence that inclusive practices are taking place in reality, at least
in some schools.
There are other strands to government education policy, besides
inclusion, which many have argued tend to militate against the
successful achievement of inclusion. For example, schools are charged
with the task of striving to provide optimum educational experiences
for all children, through inclusive practices, whilst at the same time
ensuring that their exam performance places them in a healthy position
in the national league tables. Much contemporary commentary has noted
that schools can see these two objectives as somewhat incompatible.
Curtis (2002), for example, writing in the Guardian newspaper, reports
on the fears that children with SEN are being denied a place within
mainstream settings because “head teachers are worried they will
jeopardise league table positions” (p.1). She goes on to cite a recent
report by the Audit Commission which criticises provision for SEN
pupils as “‘patchy’ and all too often treated as an “add-on” by schools
and local education authorities” (p.1). The report asserts that
“helping children with physical or emotional problems should be
everyone’s priority and schools that make an effort to include them
should have their efforts recognised by the government in league
tables” (Curtis, 2002, p.1).
The 1997 Green Paper entitled Excellence for all children (DfEE, 1997)
outlined the government’s commitment to inclusion and among the
proposals put forward were changes to the law aimed at reducing the
numbers of ‘statements’ of special educational need. These statements
essentially gave individual children the legal right to provision
specific to their needs. Rix et al (2004) note the strength of public
response to this particular document, describing how supporters of
inclusion criticised the contradictions it contained, while other
parents and voluntary groups felt that it threatened the continuation
of special schools and children’s legal right to provision. These
competing interests so vehemently expressed serve to illustrate the
pressures on public policy to identify initiatives, aimed at meeting
all children’s educational needs, but that do not alienate particular
interested groups (Rix et al, 2004).
Hornby (1999) adds his critique to the debate, acknowledging that the
‘inclusion lobby’ has been gathering strength, notably through the
writings of Dyson (1990) and Ainscow (1995). He cites the view,
asserted by Lingard (1996) for example, that the notion of inclusion
represents an idealistic philosophical model of education which
effectively draws attention away from other innovative practices which
could improve the experiences of SEN children. Hornby suggests that
there is a dearth of research evidence for the effectiveness of
inclusive practices and asserts that there is a particular “lack of
studies demonstrating that the outcomes of inclusive programmes
significantly improve the lives of young people with SEN” (1999,
p.156). He argues for abandoning policies aimed at including all
children with SEN into mainstream settings in favour of an
individualistic approach, stating that “the level of inclusion,
locational, social or functional, should be decided on the needs of
each individual child and the exigencies of each situation” (Hornby,
1999, p.157).
Hornby’s observation regarding the lack of research evidence is
endorsed by Batten from the National Autistic Society who records the
findings of a recent OFSTED report (2004) that there was a “systematic
lack of monitoring concerning the progress, provision and outcomes of
children with SEN in schools” (Batten, 2004, p.30). Batten argues in
favour of specialist provision. She describes autism as a spectrum
disorder which means that each child has differing abilities and
needs. She suggests that “special schools have a key role to play in
educating children with complex needs, and supporting more effective
inclusion in mainstream schools” (Batten, 2004, p.30).
Continuing the pragmatic theme, Woolnough (2004) captures some typical
views, highlighting the contradictory elements in provision, in her
interviews with people at ground level. She records the experiences of
the father of an autistic child who expressed his firm belief that “all
children have the right to mainstream education. However, if
mainstream education isn’t right for the child then there must be some
other provision that suits them” (Woolnough, 2004, p.28). Woolnough
recalls the findings of a recent Ofsted report that “only a minority of
mainstream schools are providing for special needs very well, although
there is an increase in the awareness of the issues with some schools
improving their practices” (2004, p.28). The report goes on to record
that teaching quality is variable and that “many schools are unable to
fully involve pupils with SEN in school life and help them fulfil their
potential” (Woolnough, 2004, p.28).
Lee and Henkhuzens (1996) point to the need for effective training for
all those involved in practices to include children with SEN within
schools. They also highlight the dilemmas facing local authorities and
schools as they attempt to provide more inclusive practice. Newham
local education authority, identified earlier, adopted a comprehensive
policy of inclusive education in 1986. Jordan and Goodey, parents and
activists who were intimately involved in the development of Newham’s
policy, cite the policy as stating “segregation is a major factor
causing discrimination. We therefore believe that de-segregating
special education is the first step in tackling prejudice against
people with disabilities and other difficulties” (cited in Rix et al,
2004, p. 31). The ultimate goal of Newham LEA was that every child,
whatever their educational need, “should be able to attend their
neighbourhood school, have full access to the National Curriculum, be
able to participate in every aspect of mainstream school life and
attain their full potential” (Frederickson and Cline, 2002, p.72).
However, it seems that in recent years, the reality is that many pupils
with special needs in Newham are being educated only in certain
‘suitably-resourced’ mainstream schools, rather than in their local
schools. Jordan and Goodey are cited as describing this situation as
“very much a compromise in response to parents’ concerns about local
schools not having developed sufficient experience and confidence to
meet needs” (Frederickson and Cline, 2002, p.72).
Other people interviewed by Woolnough (2004) were cited as agreeing
with the idea of inclusion in principle but believed that it was not
happening in reality. Training was cited by teaching staff as a major
issue as was funding for staff and resources. John Bangs, head of
education at the NUT, pointed out that, as mentioned earlier, the
government’s inclusive policy conflicts with other important factors,
such as targets to raise standards and the working conditions of
teachers. Bangs commented that “large class sizes, benchmarks, league
tables and the current curriculum all undermine inclusion” (Woolnough,
2004, p.29).
Vaughan, founder of the Independent Centre for Studies on Inclusive
Education, makes the case for inclusive education. He highlights the
conflicting messages given out by recent legislation and policy
initiatives. On the one hand the Special Educational Needs and
Disability Act 2001 and the revised Code of Practice of 2002 strengthen
the right of SEN children to be educated within the mainstream sector,
and on the other hand the most recent DfES document ‘Removing Barriers
to Achievement’ calls for a “re-invigorated role for special schools in
perpetuity” (Vaughan, 2004, p.4). Vaughan reminds us of the children’s
rights principles enshrined in UN Convention on the Rights of the Child
in 1989, claiming that the problem lies with our government’s lack of
endorsement of educational inclusion as a rights issue. Vaughan’s
organization is committed to “the restructuring of all mainstream
schools in order to develop inclusive settings for 100 per cent of
pupils and the gradual closure of special schools” (Vaughan, 2004, p.4).
The factors involved in successful inclusion
It was noted earlier that research evidence, where it exists, offers
varied findings regarding the impact of inclusion programmes on the
academic and social outcomes for pupils with special educational needs
(Manset and Semmel, 1997; Hornby, 1999). Writers such as Salend and
Garrick Duhaney (1999), for example, have acknowledged the many factors
contributing to inconclusive evidence in this area, including
methodological limitations and the problems of making meaningful
comparisons between research studies. However, they suggest that
important variables seem likely to be the quality of the inclusion
programme itself and the extent to which the general education system
is able to accommodate the academic and social needs of students with
SEN (Salend and Garrick Duhaney, 1999). A range of recent studies
appear to reach somewhat similar conclusions in this latter field of
enquiry. Frederickson and Cline (2002) set out the conclusions drawn
by a variety of researchers to illustrate the apparent congruity
between them, some of which are reproduced as follows:
“Ainscow (1995: 152)
• Effective leadership, not only by the head teacher, but spread throughout the school.
• Involvement of staff, students and community in school policies and decisions.
• A commitment to collaborative planning.
• A policy for staff development
McLaughlin (1995: 206)
• Clear vision.
• Governance structures that promote collaboration and school level flexibility.
• Professional development that builds collaborative work structures, joint problem solving and the sharing of expertise.
Lipsky and Gartner (1996: 780)
• Visionary leadership.
• Collaboration: building planning teams and scheduling time for teachers to work together.
• Support for staff and students.
• Effective parental involvement.
(Adapted from Frederickson and Cline, 2002, p.81).
Co-operative learning models have been documented to work well where
there is a diverse student group. Cross and Walker-Knight (1997)
identify a number of factors common to all co-operative learning
approaches, including a common learning activity suited to group work,
small-group learning and co-operative skills taught by the teacher,
team-working and individual responsibility and accountability for
learning. Within this model, students are taught the skills necessary
for effective group work, such as encouraging participation and giving
and receiving constructive criticism (Frederickson and Cline, 2002,
p.93/94).
Many studies underline peer tutoring and support as particularly
effective. For example, Bagley and Mallick describe how peer tutoring
has been used to improve the reading skills and self-esteem of 13 year
old students with physical and learning difficulties (Frederickson and
Cline, 2002). Although there seems to be no shortage of studies
showing how pupils’ academic and social learning have been enhanced
through effective peer tutoring and support systems, many of these tend
to be highly individualised, and there may be limitations in terms of
the degree to which they may be generalized to other groups and
settings. Frederickson and Cline (2002) point out the danger that a
narrow focus on a specific strategy could mean that it becomes an
“add-on” designed for the ‘special’ children. They go on to suggest,
rather, that such strategies within an inclusive school will be seen as
“important ways in which access and participation can increasingly be
achieved by all children and they will be used in a range of contexts”
(Frederickson and Cline, 2002, p.95).
Manset and Semmel (1997) cite curricular modifications, highly
structured basic skills teaching and frequent testing as the most
effective key factors in enhancing the educational progress of pupils
with SEN. They also point to reducing class size to promote a more
intensive focus on specific targets, more staff in the classroom and
the introduction of peer tutoring as additional significant features.
Monitoring and evaluating progress against stated goals and objectives,
particularly for individual pupils, has been flagged up as especially
important. As Frederickson and Cline point out, “positive findings
from group investigations rarely reflect positive findings for every
child, some of whom will not respond well to an environment which suits
the majority” (2002, p.83).
Frederickson et al (2002) cite a research study which was conducted on
inclusion initiatives in two UK LEAs and sought the views of 107
pupils, parents and school staff. “All groups reported academic and
social advantages as positive benefits of returning pupils with SEN
from special to mainstream settings” (p.37). All groups saw pupil
progress as a primary indicator of successful inclusion. Teachers and
parents identified good planning and preparation and supportive
communication as essential for successful inclusion. “Successful
implementation of inclusion was considered to require restructuring of
the physical environment, resources, organizational changes and
instructional adaptations – though different groups of participants
gave these different factors different emphases” (Frederickson et al,
2002, p37).
The debate about measuring educational effectiveness prompts questions
about the purpose and aims of education. Williams (1993), for example,
argues that “when effectiveness is measured mainly or even solely
through achievement in traditional academic subjects, and when
resourcing depends on this, rather than the social objectives
encapsulated in the integration of children with learning difficulties,
there are dangers” (Frederickson and Cline, 2002, p.83). Scruggs and
Mastropieri take a different view, stating their concern that “full
inclusion is a policy that suggests that students are in school
primarily to be in the company of age peers, and not primarily to
learn” (Frederickson and Cline, 2002, p.83). These observations
illustrate that different conceptualizations of educational
effectiveness tend to reflect different views about the aims of
education, not just for pupils with ‘special needs’ but for all
children.
Wakefield (2004) undertook research into current inclusive provision
for disaffected students within a mainstream urban secondary
comprehensive school. This study sought the views of students and
staff in a learning support unit, renamed the City Development Centre,
attached to the school. The students, characterized as having been
frequently disruptive with poor records of attendance, and typically
deemed as having SEN, were receiving an education at the unit as an
alternative to exclusion. There was found to be a degree of
ambivalence among staff about the aims of the CDC, many perceiving the
unit as a ‘soft option’ or as a continuation of the system of rewards
and sanctions.
For Wakefield, the study highlighted the importance of strong
management of the CDC, relevant training and clear guidelines to ensure
that all staff members developed “a clear appreciation as to its role
and relationship to the wider concept of the inclusive school”
(Wakefield, 2004, p.84). The study concluded that “in creating a
broad-based curriculum, value should be placed on the acquisition of
skills and knowledge, while also attending to the social and emotional
needs of students” (p.84). Wakefield cites research evidence of good
practice in other similar units and expresses his optimism that good
progress is currently being made in the move towards the social
inclusion of vulnerable children, although he suggests that there is
still a long way to go.
The new emphasis on partnerships and addressing the diversity of
children’s needs through a multi-professional approach is encapsulated
in the government’s recent aim to establish a network of extended
schools throughout England by the year 2006. Sale (2003) reports that
“Social services staff are going back to school to help deliver the
government’s ambitious plans to provide community services in 240
extended schools over the next three years “ (p. 14). She notes the
changes to the Education Act of 2002 to enable schools to widen their
role to include child care, family learning, health and social care,
study support and lifelong learning opportunities and services for
local communities. She cites Ian Elliott, Local Government Association
senior project officer, as saying that “schools are the hub of the
community and using school premises to deliver a range of activities
will benefit all the community, not just those attending the school
during the normal school day” (Sale, 2003, p.15).
Sale goes on to suggest that social workers are accustomed, and
trained, to reaching out to adults and children at risk of social
exclusion and that such experience will be equally as useful in a
school setting. She cites Elliott as suggesting that “having
professional support to cater for children on school premises will be a
vital gateway and in some cases a welcome relief for school staff
(2003, p.15). Sale urges that all agencies involved in the provision
of these new services in extended schools need to consult together
about their plans. She also warns that there must be “sustained
government investment if the work of the services in extended schools
is going to have any impact. It is no good putting in money for three
years and then saying there is no more at the end of it” (2003, p.
15).
The wider perspective
The assertion, notably by Dyson (2000) above, that education should
seek to accommodate the characteristics and needs of all children, is
also addressed by Parsons (1999) who broadens the focus to situate
exclusion, disaffection and education within the wider discourse of
citizenship. Parsons records figures given by Ofsted that permanent
exclusion from school affected 13,041 pupils in England in the 1997/8
period, with one pupil in every 581 having been excluded. He notes
that aside from these official exclusions, many other pupils were also
voluntarily excluding themselves from school through truanting.
Parsons cites other statistics revealing that 8.2% of students in Years
10 and 11 are frequent truants (that is, absenting themselves from
school at least once a week), with as many as one student in eight,
from Year 11, recorded nationally as truanting on a regular basis
(Parsons, 1999, p.57).
Parsons (1999) suggests that exclusion has tended to attract the most
attention from policymakers, yet truancy may be a bigger problem.
Truancy has commonly been tackled through notions of individual pupil
or parental responsibility, as evidenced through reports of parents of
persistent truants being prosecuted in recent years. However, it seems
that rarely has truancy and disaffection been addressed from the point
of view of the pupils themselves. Parsons cites research studies by
O’Keefe and Stoll (1995) and Coldman (1995), eliciting the views of
young pupils, which found that irrelevant lessons and dislike of
teachers were among the most common reasons for unofficial absenteeism
from school. Parsons asserts that during the 1990s, there had been an
increasing “narrowing of the formal function of education, a
legitimisation of attention to basic skills and curriculum subjects and
a corresponding devaluation of relationships, growth and acceptance of
diversity” (1999, p.6).
In similar vein, Sellman and colleagues, in their review of the
literature on exclusion, write that views on school exclusion cannot be
reduced simply to citing deficiencies or deviance within children; it
is, rather, the result of a “complex interplay between social
institutions and individuals” (2002, p. 891). They suggest that when
pupil voices are heard with regard to exclusion, they typically refer
to a breakdown in teacher-pupil relationships. Several researchers,
including Blyth and Milner (1993), Pomeroy (2000) and Blair (2001),
report that pupils commonly characterise positive relationships with
teachers as “feeling valued, trusted and being given responsibility,
alongside sensitive approaches to teaching/discipline that avoid
humiliation” (Sellman et al, 2002).
Disaffection with schooling and its curriculum, cited above as
important for truanting pupils, is seen by many researchers as
problematic towards the end of compulsory schooling, particularly for
male pupils for whom education as they experience it has become
irrelevant or inconsequential (Sellman et al, 2002). Innovations
designed to develop challenging but less alienating schools in the USA
have been developed, including one high school which designed the
timetable, work schedule and success criteria in collaboration with the
students. The creation of more pupil-friendly frameworks through
deconstructing large institutions into smaller ‘family’ groups have
also been described (Sellman et al, 2002).
Sellman and colleagues (2002) also raise the well-documented issue of
the disproportionate numbers of black pupils being permanently excluded
from school and factors such as individual and institutional racism are
increasingly being recognised. They cite many researchers who have
drawn our attention to mistaken cultural interpretations of “black
pupils’ body language, dress and personality traits by white teachers”
(Sellman et al, 2002, p.895). Sellman and colleagues go on to conclude
that the issue of relationships remains central to engaging those
pupils who are experiencing difficulties.
“Schools that are inclusive and minimize exclusions stress academic
standards but also determinedly attend to each pupil’s social and
emotional needs. These schools also deliver a broad and balanced
curriculum which, according to Klein (1999), should be pitched to reach
a variety of learning styles (visual, auditory and kinaesthetic) and
intelligences” (Sellman et al 2002, p. 895).
It seems clear, then, that if young people have bad school experiences
they can become disaffected and alienated from formal education. Some
writer have focused on the ways in which disaffected young people can
become constructed as ‘other’ to the mainstream norm, through processes
that conspire to label them as different. These processes are seen as
operating also in other group domains in society. For example, sexist
assumptions can position men centrally and women as ‘other’,
ethnocentric assumptions can characterise an array of different
cultures as simply ‘non-white’. Children and young people who do not
conform to the majority view may be labelled as having deficits,
disorders and ‘special needs’ in the educational sense (Sanders and
Hendry, 1997; Parsons, 1999; Nind et al, 2003).
Tomlinson (1982) provides us with some food for thought in her
assertion of a radical view that legal definitions of special
educational needs and the labelling of some groups, such as truants and
children excluded from school, as deviant from the majority reflects
the requirements of dominant power interests in society. Tomlinson
suggests that state special education, in all its forms, has developed
to cater for children categorized as different largely because of the
needs of an industrialized society “which was endeavouring to produce
and train a stable, docile, productive workforce” (1982, p. 173) rather
than to meet the needs of children who are experiencing difficulties at
school. She goes on to assert that
“the smooth running of normal schools and, latterly, their
examination-oriented, credentialing functions were impeded by
troublesome children who could not, or would not, conform to the
requirements of the schools, particularly in terms of learning
capabilities and appropriate behaviour” (Tomlinson, 1982, p. 173).
Discussion
As noted above, it seems that if pupils are to be engaged with
education, and continue to be so, then provision needs to be flexible
and tailor-made to meet a diversity of needs, interests and
circumstances. Much of the research exploring practices relevant for
effective inclusive education, as we have seen, cite positive
interaction with sensitive, supportive individuals, a flexible,
relevant curriculum and strong, committed leadership as key components.
Inclusive education invokes a genuine commitment to egalitarianism in
order that all children benefit. As Armstrong et al (2000) assert, it
is insufficient for schools to do barely enough in the name of equal
opportunities via tokenistic provision for those identified with
special educational needs. Inclusion requires that all schools value
all their pupils” (Sellman et al, 2002).
We have seen how there is clearly a policy commitment to inclusion in
education in principle, but also that the realization of this
commitment in practice is hampered by pragmatic considerations in the
here and now. For example, there are many people who campaign to
retain the specialist provision that, in their view, offers the best
quality education available at the present time for their own children
who have special educational needs. Some commentators cite examples of
good quality inclusive practices being developed currently, but most,
however, acknowledge that progress nationally on this front is slow.
Frederickson and Cline argue that, in terms of the state school system,
inclusive education goes beyond mainstreaming which is based on the
assumption that there are two basic school systems – a general system
and a special system. They make the point that “a restructured
inclusive system goes beyond a readiness model which requires that
students with SEN prove their readiness to be in an integrated setting,
rather than regarding integrated settings as the norm” (2002, p.97).
The rightful focus of inclusive schooling, as many commentators
observe, is seen as the development of a school environment to support
all students, including those who are set up potentially to fail,
notably those with SEN, those who suffer from socio-economic
deprivation, those from different cultural, racial and linguistic
backgrounds, and those who are disaffected by virtue of an irrelevant,
inappropriate school curriculum. As Frederickson and Cline observe
“unlike mainstreaming, inclusion is considered not a special education
programme, but an outcome of school reform” (2002, p.97). It is
contended that inclusive education
can potentially benefit all children – the question remains as to how
far we, as a society, are prepared to go, particularly in terms of the
reconstruction of our education system, in order to make it happen.
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