During my sophomore year in college, I decided to take piano. I never had music lessons as a child, and I thought it would be fun to learn. I didn’t take it seriously—I had no delusions that I would become a professional musician. One of my major goals for the activity was that I would be able to play “Happy Birthday” at a friend’s birthday party. I also hoped to be able to play the “easy” versions of some Billy Joel songs.
It turned out that even Piano 1 in college was VERY hard. Everyone else in the class had years of lessons as a child. I was completely lost, and I had to learn things quickly. I was intense about it. All the practice rooms were booked for music majors during the day. Therefore, I had to get up super early in the morning to get a practice room, which I did every day, including weekends. I also was able to get a free “tutor” for an extra lesson each week. During spring break, I took a keyboard with me so that I could practice. Despite all that effort, I bombed the final exam and somehow managed to get a C+ in the class.
Not one to give up easily, I decided to take Piano 2. I just wanted to learn to play well enough so that it was fun. The grade doesn’t matter. On the first day of class, the teacher had everyone play a short passage. When it was my turn, the teacher interrupted and said, “you are mutilating the music.” At that point, I decided to drop Piano 2. I still can’t play “Happy Birthday” at parties.
The point is that someone with my level of motivation should have been able to achieve this goal given the right instruction and environment. The problem was that I was years behind my peers, and despite enormous effort, it just wasn’t reasonable to expect me to be able to catch up and perform well in the college classroom. It was the wrong place to try to learn.
Children with autism are often placed in a situation like I was in college. They might be years behind peers in language skills, reading skills, math skills, or social skills. Sometimes it is possible and appropriate to make modifications that allow successful participation. In the right situation, with the right team, with the right child, it can work amazingly well.
But other times, it is simply not possible given our current state of knowledge. Many children with autism are smarter than I was. They don’t need the teacher to tell them that “you are mutilating the music” to learn that they can’t do what everyone else in the class can do. It’s obvious to them. That can lead to unnecessary frustration, severe problem behaviors, and low self-esteem. Often, it is possible to teach the skills the child needs, given the right conditions. Sometimes the right conditions are not available in the General Education Classroom.
If a child needs to learn critical life skills, it is worth considering if the General Education Classroom is the best place to acquire those skills. Sometimes the answer may be yes. Sometimes the answer may be no. Too often, the question doesn’t get the careful consideration it deserves.