A school in Brooklyn is pioneering new ways to teach children with disabilities

The third graders in room 221 started their day with a chain of hugs.

At this Brooklyn elementary school, kids with adaptive speech devices and those without them rushed to hug — a shared “good morning” among a group of students who communicate differently.

The students are part of a unique pilot program at P.S. 15 Patrick F. Daly, in Red Hook, that integrates children who would normally have segregated educational paths—children with intellectual or multiple disabilities—with their general education peers.

After the hugs, a teacher asked the children to think: “What can you do to feel better when you are sad?” Some wrote independently. Others pushed buttons for words like “swing” and “sleep” on voice devices and worked with teaching assistants who helped them print images for magazines.

Then they all shared together.

In New York City, the nation’s largest school district, nearly 200,000 students have disabilities ranging from dyslexia to blindness. Families often struggle to navigate a labyrinthine special education system, and lots of it students fail received all the services they need.

Children with learning disabilities, who make up about 3 percent of children and often have a genetic or chromosomal condition such as Down syndrome, can leave the public system altogether to attend specialized private schools. Others sign up for one separate district for students with more complex needs.

But at PS 15 — where 40 percent of students are in special education — the pilot, which will complete its expansion to fifth grade next fall, could push the boundaries of how schools integrate children into special education, experts said. For example, PS 15 teachers are helping a small Texas district prepare for the launch of a similar program next year.

“It’s not easy,” says Julie Cavanagh, the school’s principal. But, she said, it starts with recognizing the difference between “tokenism” and true inclusion: “We don’t just run inclusive programs. We are an inclusive school.”

The Brooklyn pilot started in 2017 and is different from others offer from the city for students with disabilities, although it is modeled after a similar program for students with autism. Two teachers lead a class, which consists of a small group of general education students and about four children in special education for people with intellectual disabilities. A team of paraprofessionals and a dozen in-house therapists work alongside them.

The environment is not necessarily suitable for all children, but even those in special education classrooms are invited to join other students in a different way. For example, students who are nonverbal can use their adaptive speech devices to lead morning announcements.

Srikala Naraian, a professor at Teachers College who studies special education, called the approach a “wonderfully unique” departure from the traditional view that “only some children can be included.”

“Instead, it starts with ‘Who is the most overlooked in our school system?'” she said.

On a Tuesday morning, third-grade teachers split the class into pairs for a lesson on Christine Platt’s book “Honoring Heroes.” One student read the book aloud and a paraprofessional helped the other follow along. Later, the six general education students met with a teacher to ponder the meaning of the passages and make predictions for the next chapter.

In class, with special education plans, the children worked on identifying characters in the book or circling each entry of a vocabulary, often using adaptive devices.

In earlier classes of PS 15, younger children sometimes wonder why a teacher sits next to certain students more often.

But Catherine Lipkin, a kindergarten teacher, said teachers welcome discussion and encourage children to talk about differences — from a classmate’s need for a leg rest to why a teacher wears glasses. “It’s so emphasized that it’s not seen as a negative,” she said. “It’s just not going to be a problem.”

It’s a big change for Keller Chung, 10, a third grader with Down syndrome and born with a heart defect. At the public school where he was in kindergarten, he was often sent to the principal’s office, given lollipops and distracted with an iPad, his father, David Chung, said.

“He wasn’t really seen as a human being with any level of achievement, or who needed to be challenged,” said Mr. Chung. “He was treated like a baby and babysat.”

At P.S. 15, where Keller, who is nonverbal, started in first grade, his speech therapist and other adults often push him, Mr. Chung says, even when he may shy away from answering challenging questions about lessons.

Families will soon face a new challenge as their children move into senior classes, where similar programs are rarely available, in part due to more complicated class schedules and academic requirements.

But Ms Cavanagh said she and families have “dreamed” about possibilities. Can science labs and art classes integrate more easily than math or reading? Can students work together in a school shop? A principal at nearby Harbor Middle School in Red Hook is eager to address those questions and sent a formal program proposal to school officials this spring.

Eve Colavito, a parent who was the first to push for the basic program, isn’t sure what the future holds for her daughter, Vivian, 9, who is nonverbal and has Angelman syndrome, a genetic condition.

But Ms. Colavito said she had seen Vivian’s social skills “bloom.” And she’s watched her “develop an expectation of being included — and seen and heard — wherever she goes.”

“I have to believe part of that is where she goes to school,” Ms. Colavito said. “Our kids don’t live on the edge of PS 15. They live downtown.”

Audio produced by Sarah Diamond.