by Sara Jerger, MS, CCC-SLP (Speech-Language Pathologist); NWACS Contributor

This spring, educators around Washington state found ourselves having to figure out “enrichment learning” due to COVID-related school closures. We were meant to keep the kids engaged and maintain learning with three activities a week. True to the Type A personality stereotype of SLPs, my SLP cohort immediately organized into specialty Professional Learning Communities (PLCs) by grade level (preschool, elementary, secondary) and by need (English language learners and AAC). There were five of us on the AAC PLC, and we grappled with what to do. We didn’t have the first idea for how to provide “enrichment” to students with complex needs.

Our first week at home, we plunged into any professional development opportunity we could – of note was the teletherapy conference SpeechTherapyPD.com provided through California’s association and Rachel Madel’s AAC in telepractice webinar from AAC in the Cloud. When our PLC met, we were ready to provide information to families about using AAC in the home. We provided information about how to clean devices (this was a pandemic, after all), how to use core words, social stories for why everything was closed, and ways to functionally integrate AAC into morning routines and daily chores. We were proud of what we were doing and thought that the information would be useful to those who had capacity to access it.

And then the directive from Office of Superintentent of Public Instruction (OSPI) came telling schools to provide “continued learning” and to write continuous learning plans (CLPs) for all students receiving special education services. After the initial shock of being told to do something that felt massively impossible, we buckled down and got to work. We continued to meet as a group to problem solve but were now providing IEP services remotely and that looked different for each of us. I wondered how in the world I was going to engage students over a screen when it was challenging to keep their attention in person. It turns out, this was really the smallest barrier to overcome in providing remote services to students with complex communication needs.

In the 2019-2020 school year I had 15 students who used AAC on my caseload, all of which are significantly impacted by their disabilities. They received services in all areas. A third of those students have families that do not speak English. A quarter (to my knowledge) of those parents were essential workers. Nearly three quarters of those students are Black, Brown, Indigenous, or a person of color (BIPOC). My students’ families faced barriers unique to students with significant disabilities (e.g., students who are not yet using technology independently, need hand over hand assistance for many fine and gross motor tasks, are emerging or context dependent communicators, etc.); barriers to communicating with school teams due to language differences; barriers to supporting their students during the school day because they were at work; and barriers related to systemic racism and how that intersects with disability.

Because this country has not successfully suppressed the spread of COVID-19, districts are now faced with an untenable choice: determining what a “safe” return to school looks like or go completely remote. Some argue that there is no current way to return safely to school; we need to first have 14-24 days with no new cases before we begin phased openings. Some argue for a hybrid model. What we know is that remote learning will be with us in some version for the foreseeable future. It is up to us to make sure it is robust, equitable, and engaging.

Here is what I learned last spring:

1.    Make some services easy and recorded.

Rather than attempt to do live lessons with students, I recorded my core word lessons. This year was my first year trying out the Tell Me Curriculum (Zangari). I modified it to meet the needs of my in-person classroom, and then modified again for remote learning. I made videos, used interactive PowerPoints, and even did a predictable chart writing exercise. These were posted to my school website and also emailed to families weekly. Families could access them when and if it worked for their schedules.

What was not provided was any assistive technology (aside from their communication devices). For continued distance learning, we will need to provide this equipment (switches, adaptive scissors, etc.) and train families in how to use them. These students rely on assistive technology to access their environment; without it, our services are not as effective. It is our responsibility to provide it.

2.     Focus on families and caregivers.

My live sessions for these students focused on the adults. I had regular weekly sessions with only one out of my 15 families. We talked about strategies for using AAC during their daily activities, how to use the recorded lessons, and figured out tech issues. It was also an opportunity for this family to share frustrations about remote learning and hopes for what it would look like in the fall. With two other families, I had “as needed” sessions. They asked, we set up a date, and we discussed issues they were having. For the rest of my families, I did not hear back with requests to set up appointments. I don’t know if I tried hard enough to connect with these folks. That is something I’ve been reflecting on since school ended.

For remote learning to be successful, we must be tireless in our efforts to connect with families.

3.     Language and cultural barriers prevent meaningful communication; we need cultural brokers.

All of the AAC families with whom I had regular contact were English speakers. In the face of the continuation of distance learning, we need to solve this problem. Students with complex needs who are at home will rely on their families for services with school providers coaching them. This requires a trusting relationship. Every school needs a dedicated interpreter who not only knows the language but can be a cultural broker building a bridge between the school and home communities.

4.     If caregivers are working, it is impossible for students to receive support during school hours.

If any of you have kids and were trying to work from home last spring (or still!), you know how challenging this is. My 4-year-old spent way too much time with the Magic Mouse app and knows way more about Fancy Nancy than I’d care to admit. For students with complex needs with parents who leave the house to work, time and energy is scarce. When resources are being stretched thin (time, emotional energy, physical energy, etc.), time with family should be focused on connection and re-fueling.

This will continue to be an issue in the fall when we return to distance learning in some capacity. This article has some ideas for how to serve families who have to work outside the home; however, this is a larger societal issue that needs to be solved by the community at large. Schools cannot be alone in shouldering the responsibility for supporting our working families. Especially now, working families need income protection and flexible scheduling options.

5.     Systemic racism affects everything

During the closure we saw another instance of police brutality and the entire nation rose up to protest. We have two public health crises happening that we have to face as educators: a global pandemic and systemic racism. Sadly, systemic racism makes the pandemic more lethal for BIPOC families. This causes a real problem – nearly 75% of my students with complex needs are BIPOC students. Of the students that I had regular contact with (face to face or via email) two were BIPOC families. There is a very real equity issue with who accesses services during remote learning. There is also a very real equity issue with who is more likely to get sick and potentially die during in-person learning. What do we do about this?

The article linked above provides one solution (brick and mortar schools open for those who need supervision while accessing remote learning), but that doesn’t speak to the needs of students with complex needs. These are students who cannot wear masks, have a harder time managing bodily secretions, and cannot manage personal hygiene independently. These are also students who are at greater risk of serious complications due to both racism and underlying health conditions. These students need in-person services or families who can commit to regular coaching work with providers. If in-person services are provided, they need to be in a well-ventilated room with low-risk providers who are given medical grade personal protective equipment (PPE). Finally, Anti-racism curriculum, trainings, and standards need to be implemented in all schools in order to close opportunity gaps and increase safety for all BIPOC students – with and without disabilities.

How did school closures affect you? What did you learn during the period of remote learning? How can we use that learning to start the 20-21 school year stronger? Educators worked hard to reimagine schools last spring, and we made it work. It is time to take what we learned and plan for a robust, equitable, and engaging distance learning model that keeps students and staff safe. Only then will we suppress this virus and get back to school.

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