Learning
disorders a common thread
Teens meet with peers to share stories and
notes about their disabilities
Friday, November 12, 2004 • BY JOHN MOONEY •
Star-Ledger Staff
It had the feel of a teenage support group. One by one,
the dozen students in the circle listed their names, their
hometowns, and then something else they don't usually talk
about much.
"I'm Mat from Millburn and I have dyspraxia and ADD,"
said Mat Fern, a senior at Millburn High School.
The girl with reddish blond hair gave her name and
school. "And I have dyslexia," she said.
Others didn't quite know their technical diagnosis.
Sitting outside the circle, one boy later said he only knows
he has trouble understanding homework assignments.
"I always forget activities and things," said Davonne
Rushing, a 17-year-old from Bloomfield High School. "It's
good to hear others talk about it, too.
In a rare look into the world and minds of teenagers
classified with learning and other disorders, more than 100
students from seven high schools came yesterday to Millburn
High School to talk about their lives, challenges and
strategies for navigating the maze of obstacles they call
school.
It's a complicated place for thousands of teenagers in
New Jersey, where about one in seven children is classified
with a disability -- from physical disorders to the
invisible ones of the brain.
The classification can come with a stigma and changed
expectations, but also intricately complicated rules in
every students' individualized education program, or IEP:
what classes they take, how much time they have on tests,
what medications they need.
Yesterday, it also included the humorous and the
heartfelt, like the one girl from Hopewell High School who
stood at a microphone to applaud the Millburn students who
led the unusual day.
"At my school, you maybe see only five kids with a
disability, and you're not sure about the others because
nobody talks about it," said Jessica Allen, a 16-year-old
junior with a hearing impairment. "And then when you see all
these guys come out and talk about it, it shows a lot of
courage.
Turning to the Millburn students, Jessica said: "You
show a lot of courage every day."
Millburn High School has hosted the event --
inconspicuously named the "Student Self-Advocacy Conference"
-- for about 10 years now. The 20-plus Millburn students who
led the day also belong to the school's Self-Advocacy Bureau
and speak to students and teachers at other schools five or
six times a year.
"It's amazing to see the growth," said Daphne Gregory, a
coordinator at Millburn High School who has led the program.
"When I first met a lot of them, they all wanted to keep
their disabilities a big secret. Now they are up there
sharing their stories and information."
It was a pretty free-wheeling day that had an agenda but
not much else scripted for the students. They came from the
Millburn, Bloomfield, Ocean Township, Caldwell, West Morris
and Hopewell schools to participate in a day designed to
raise awareness.
The Millburn students started by explaining their
disabilities in terms that several in the audience said were
the first they actually understood. Mat's dyspraxia, a
coordination disorder that affects his handwriting, proved
an especially cogent lesson.
Later, percussionist Glen Fittin of the Broadway
musical, "The Lion King," led a raucous drumming session in
which students provided both the rhythm and excitement.
In fact, the adults didn't do much at all throughout the
day, most just sitting back in Millburn's school library and
listening to their students open up. "I think this is
probably a rude awakening for a lot of us," said Cindy
Sherman, a special education teacher at Bloomfield High
School.
The stories among students were surprisingly common from
group to group. In the corner gathering on easy chairs,
sophomore Brian Erb relayed how his Spanish teacher at
Millburn had "exploded" when he asked to take a test on a
laptop computer.
"What did you do?" asked another student.
"I backed down quietly and said I would talk to her
after class," Brian said. "Where she exploded again."
There seemed little love for the "study skills" classes
that the teenagers said are a staple of special education.
Some asked the advice of their peers -- complete strangers
-- whether they should try to move to higher-level classes.
Most were mainstreamed into regular education classes, some
in advanced placement, but others said they felt held
back.
Ari Ne'eman, 16, of East Brunswick High School said his
struggles aren't in asking for more help.
"Has anyone had trouble dropping accommodations, so you
can move up to higher classes or have fewer restrictions?"
asked Ari, who has Asperger's syndrome, a high-functioning
autism. "I think a lot of special education keeps kids in
there who could be in regular classes."
But it wasn't all serious. There was the typical chatter
of teenagers, this a mix of students no different from that
found in any class or school. There were athletes and
intellects, kids wearing hooded sweat shirts next to those
in button-down shirts, the clowns with the dead
serious.
Tucked in tight between the library's book shelves, a
group from Millburn, Caldwell and Hopewell, among others,
intermixed talk about how to get additional help in an IEP
with questions about whether somebody knew so-and-so at
another school.
Among the athletes, they jumped from the latest state
playoff games to whether anyone found it hard to decipher a
team's plays in one sport or another.
Somewhat in jest, a junior at Caldwell High School
chalked up his early struggles in football to his dyslexia.
"When they told me to go left, I went right," said Dave
Diercksen, 16.
Asked later whether he thought there would be the same
candor if there were those without disabilities in
attendance, Diercksen smiled at the switch in fates.
"I don't think they'd come," he said. "It would be too
awkward for them."
John Mooney covers education. He can be reached at
jmooney@starledger.com, or (973) 392-1548.
© 2004 The Star-Ledger. Used by NJ.com with
permission.
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