When the Bus No Longer Comes
An Interview with Don Dubuque, Transition Project Coordinator and Retired Polson Special Education Teacher
Compiled by Kim Brown

Being a special education teacher isn’t easy. I know because this was my job for 23 years. Too often, we’re assigned second-class status in our schools. We may feel overloaded, overwhelmed, and overlooked. On a daily basis, we deal with mountains of paperwork, burgeoning caseloads, and ever changing but always confusing federal and state requirements. It’s no wonder burnout rates are high and job satisfaction low. But I believe we can reenergize ourselves by remembering and rethinking why we’re here in the first place, by practicing some deep introspection.

Our exploration of our performance needs to begin with one person, one student. Think about what happened to that individual when the school bus no longer came for him or her. After they graduated, what did their day look like? Did they interact with friends? Go to work? Enjoy activities in their community? If you had it to do over again, would you do anything differently to prepare that youngster for adulthood? I suspect for many of us, the answer is that much would be the same because we’re doing many things right. We’d still emphasize self-determination and problem solving, for example. But I also think we’d stress more heavily the notion of encouraging students to do as much as possible for themselves. As any parent can tell you, this requires tremendous patience and a great deal of discipline. Often it’s easier in the short-term to do things for kids. It produces quicker outcomes. But this approach is ultimately less effective and it’s detrimental over the long haul. Kids have a powerful desire to do things independently – they grow and learn to persevere through and with much effort. To successfully transition into adult life in the community, they need to practice that independence.

Other Things I Would Do Differently
As I think about that day after graduation for students from my class, I know now that I’d also encourage them to speak up (respectfully) more for themselves in order to accomplish the goals that they dream about. This, of course, presumes they’ve been encouraged to envision goals and state them in a concrete fashion through pictures or words. What are their preferences? What are they attracted greatly to? What are their intended post-school outcomes? I’d go out into the community more and watch the students in that setting. I’d learn about their interests and preferences in different ways, determine what skills they truly need to be successful in the adult world, and then figure out what IEP goals are related to those. I think once you do this, writing down benchmarks becomes a piece of cake and curriculum development flows easily.

I’d spend more time educating families...I’d spend more time educating families, making sure they understood the difference between entitlement (school) and eligibility (post school) programs. I’d introduce families to other agency people they’ll be working with, like staff from Vocational Rehabilitation, the Comprehensive Development Center (family support services), Developmental Disabilities, and local service providers. I would involve parents in communication with employers since negotiating around support needs will generally fall to the family after graduation if there continue to be waiting lists for adult services. I realize now how important it is to teach parents to troubleshoot once their young adult is employed and to educate them about the impact of wages on SSI checks. Parents should also be comfortable with PASS plans (what they are, how to get them approved, how the calculations are made) and know who the regional PASS Cadre members are. I would help families identify available support people (e.g., friends, advocacy groups, case managers, or job coaches) and encourage parents to call them for help. A good support person can intervene, relieve pressure, and bring about better results. After graduation, I would keep the idea of the “team” alive (even if I, as the teacher, weren’t directly involved anymore). This might prevent families from feeling so alone and disconnected.

I’ve learned that once an employer commits to work with a student, he or she also needs information to help the new employee be successful. This includes things like a clear statement of the young person’s support needs (be positive but don’t hide things either) and a list of the numbers to call should difficulties arise. I would encourage employers and employees to call as soon as a problem emerges - early on – because then there are usually more options and avenues to explore. I’d emphasize that the job development or follow-along person must be in close contact and remain readily available to observe, interact, and problem solve as an employment consultant.

I’ll tell you a story to illustrate why this is so important. Early one June morning, I was walking down the sidewalk when I encountered a recent graduate with whom I’d worked as a teacher and job coach. This young man was supposed to have a job at the library, so I asked him why he wasn’t working. He said, “The librarian told me there isn’t any money to pay me.” I explained to him we’d made payment arrangements before school ended and said I’d make a few calls. It turned out funds had been authorized for his June wages, but this information never made it from the city budget office to the librarian. I was able to get it straightened out and he started work. Unless the secondary education provider plans to stay involved after graduation, someone needs to serve as a point person and be ready to help resolve these kinds of situations should they arise. It’s ideal to establish who this person is prior to graduation.

Perspective Changes Are Key
One of the most important lessons I learned from my students as we started focusing on transition is that self-centeredness gets in our way. I began my best teaching when I realized, “It’s not about me. It’s about the student and his or her interests.” When a person is concerned about how they appear, how they look from the outside, it is a tremendous distraction. It’s not about my succeeding at teaching but about the student succeeding at life – and if the student succeeds at life, then I’ve succeeded at teaching. To make this fundamental shift, we must realize and understand who the student is as a person.

How does one reach this understanding of the person? Acceptance. We all need acceptance to be who we are meant to be. Acceptance allows us to open up and grow. Offer others respect. Recognize their importance as living, breathing beings with strengths to be discovered, celebrated and promoted. Appreciate people for who they are, not what they do. Acknowledge and accept that we all have limitations; we all have abilities and disabilities. Ensure students are involved in choices and revisions and decisions as capable members of the teams assembled to serve their needs. Listen intently, patiently, respectfully.

“Call me by my name.
I love it when you call me by my name
and I become someone.
I want you to see beyond my disability,
beyond my inability to do all that someone else can do.
Still, I am a person and you love me for who I am,
as I am.” (Author unknown.)

When we get there, we see a person in a new light; we see them as “whole” and we set expectations accordingly. As I expanded my teaching beyond the walls of my classroom and beyond graduation, I opened myself to experiencing completely new and exciting aspects of the students sharing my day. I began to see my students in a new light as competent and contributing members of society who happened to have support needs.

But how do we get there? How do we make this a priority? I believe we need to focus on the individual. “What does it take to realize this is a person? What will life look like for this person in a year? Two years? Ten years?” These are key questions. In our society, we say, “I’m a teacher” or “I’m a consultant.” These statements have nothing directly to do with who we really are. A person isn’t what he or she does for a living. A person has wishes, desires, frustrations, joys, and tears. They aren’t just a “student” or a “client” or someone in the corner of the room. I experienced an epiphany about this a few years ago. My dad had Alzheimer’s and lived in an intensive care home. I went to visit him one day. As I walked in, I noticed someone sitting off to my left. Next to the person was a handmade device for counting cards. It consisted of two pieces of wood with nails and beads. The nails were sticking out and I was afraid the man in the chair might hurt himself. I squeezed the pieces of wood together and pushed the nails back in. I looked up and realized the man was my dad. I’m still pondering what insight I was supposed to gain from that. In part, I think it’s that it is always someone’s dad, someone’s brother, someone’s child – a person created with a special place in this world and deserving of my full attention. I’ve had to learn not to act out of altruism or pity but because this is a person. We need to move to the point where we acknowledge the value of every individual. When we judge and compare, then we limit our vision of the person as a whole, within which we see the strength and concomitant possibilities (i.e., outcomes).

Essential Lessons
I now understand that I’m the one who has been taught. One student taught me beauty and sanctity. Another showed me a new level of patience. Still another taught me not to manipulate or use people. I was working with students in a greenhouse behind the school. We were rooting geranium cuttings. The state Office of Public Instruction came to monitor. I was feeling quite proud, so I put my hand on the person with the most severe challenges and said, “These are the kinds of students we’re working with.” This young lady pulled up a freshly rooted plant and said, “See! Roots!” Ouch. I realized I was displaying her like she displayed the plant, using her to show others how well I thought we were doing.

I wish I’d known these things earlier. I would have made transition the key and then I think I’d have seen more fruitful and realistic outcomes and my work would have been even more rewarding. Post-school outcomes are related to realistic expectations that are shaped or flowing out of the student’s strengths and are encompassed in a vision of the student as a whole. To follow this Model, we have to surrender a great deal of what has traditionally been called “teacher control”; it is tremendously empowering to give the student this control. We must also be humble and really listen – we can teach so much by example.

Let’s face it, the forms and files and outcome requirements aren’t going to disappear. So if we’re going to have to do the work, we might as well do it with a purpose or goal in mind. I believe in what we’re doing with the transition projects - focusing on paid employment as a post-school goal for all students. I know the customized employment process works for students with significant disabilities. Discovery gives people the right to make choices and experience what it feels like to be listened to, what it means to be worth being listened to. Discovery just happens when you acknowledge the individual in your classroom isn’t simply a “student” or “part of a caseload” – she or he is a person. If we lose the sense of a person being involved, we lose the person-centered outcome. As humans, we can’t stay healthy if we’re negative and self-centered. If I had it to do over again, I’d continually remind myself, “You’re here to work and serve this person and to get out into the community together.” I believe when we make these our guiding principles, we all become much more effective and respectful, and also much healthier and happier. When the outcome is students working in the community and successfully transitioning to adulthood, we realize it is worth all the hard work.

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