See discussions, stats, and author profiles for this publication at: https://www.researchgate.

net/publication/284733715

The Case of the Disappearing/Appearing Slow Learner:An Interpretive Mystery

Thesis · June 2015

CITATIONS READS
2 1,333

1 author:

W. John Williamson
The University of Calgary
20 PUBLICATIONS 47 CITATIONS

SEE PROFILE

Some of the authors of this publication are also working on these related projects:

The Case of the. Dissapearing/Appearing Slow Learner: An Interpretive Mystery Serialized Publication View project

All content following this page was uploaded by W. John Williamson on 21 December 2015.

The user has requested enhancement of the downloaded file.

cover art © Emma Williamson
 UNIVERSITY OF CALGARY

The Case of the Disappearing/Appearing Slow Learner:

An Interpretive Mystery

by

W. John Williamson

A THESIS

SUBMITTED TO THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES

IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE

DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

GRADUATE PROGRAM IN EDUCATIONAL RESEARCH

CALGARY, ALBERTA

April 2015

© W. John Williamson, 2015

 i

Abstract

This thesis explored the topic of the categorization of and programming for

students named, through intellectual assessment and/or documented school failure,

as “slow learners”. Written as a fictionalized hard-boiled detective story instead of

adopting a more traditional thesis format, the thesis drew on the author’s experiential

data, primary sources, and interviews with students, teachers, administrators, and

curriculum leaders and the interpretive lenses of disability studies, including disability

history, and hermeneutics. It explored assumptions contained in the slow learner label

and the resourcing and accommodation practices, and their lack, that flow from this

and other educational labels. Emergent themes included the harmful consequences of

sorting individuals by measured intelligence scores, and the notion that the

complexity of human learning for any student is greater than the slow learner label, or

any educational label can contain. Paradoxically, even as these themes emerged, the

actual teaching practices in many programs for slow learners, in their concreteness, in

their freedom from constraints such as standardized testing, and in their use of

inquiry methods, were reported as beneficial to these students and potentially to other

students as well. When similar methods were used in non-segregated classrooms that

included students named as slow learners, most students were reported to be engaged

and successful. In this vein, broader educational reform measures that might be

potentially helpful in helping make schools more inclusive for the students currently

labelled slow learners were also examined. This thesis recommended the use of

inclusive approaches in classrooms at the site-based level as well as continued

scrutiny and reform of the institutional barriers at the school, district, and provincial

levels that contribute to the production of slow learners.

 ii

Preface

Ladies and gentlemen, the story you are about to see is true. The names

have been changed to protect the innocent1.

This phrase, so familiar it long ago lapsed into cliché and parody, announced

the beginning of every episode of the long-running, and decidedly un-ironic, police

procedural television series Dragnet. I revive it now, in its original earnestness to

maintain that the story following, a hermeneutic exploration of the educational

category of slow learner, written as a hard-boiled detective novel in the style of

Raymond Chandler (1888 – 1959), is true as well. The story is essentially a

fictionalized and stylized narrative of my own ongoing journey (through research and

direct experience) into special education thought and practice as it pertains to

students named slow learners and, more broadly at times, to educational classification

and sorting. I have embedded my justification for this approach in the larger narrative,

at times implying and at times directly addressing it. I depict a version of myself,

exploring my true concerns with exaggerated angst, in the role of a special education

coordinator who hires a detective to find this category of students that the narrative

claims have been lost. I explore my more critical side through the character of the

incredulous detective, who plays the role of the provocateur, making observations and

asking questions about educational categorization, disability, and bureaucratic

process. Additional characters include informants to my research, whose names,

indeed, have been changed, even as I tried to faithfully represent their actual beliefs

about, and roles in, the educational drama of slow learners. It is with less

1
For example see “Dragnet – The Big Winchester,” YouTube video, 25:57, from the NBC television
episode first broadcast by March 4, 1954, posted by mytvmemories January 18, 2012,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4jU-9.
 iii

verisimilitude that I, under their real names, people the story with various writers and

thinkers who have guided my quest. By and large, the thoughts they express on this

topic are my own hermeneutic appropriations – applications of their philosophy to

topics they did not have opportunity to comment on more directly. Additional

characters include villainous personifications of the toxic institutional discourses and

practices that I claim have led to the disappearance of slow learners.

The story is written to, as closely as possible, resemble a hard-boiled detective

fiction novel. To preserve narrative flow, I have avoided the use of parenthetical

references. Instead, I have opted to use footnotes in the Turabian style to acknowledge

the intellectual property of my sources, demonstrate the robustness of my research,

and, occasionally, to provide more elaboration on a particular theme than the action of

the narrative would allow.2 Whether the reader approaches these footnotes as a part of

the first reading of the narrative, or reviews them later, I hope that they provide

adequate conversation of the research that guided the interpretations of the larger

narrative.

Brace yourself for this journey. As my detective, Max Hunter, remarks the

mystery of the appearing / disappearing slow learner was, and is, a messy case and

one that requires hard-boiled resilience. The world of educational classification can be

dark and, in its own way, violent. Be careful, however, not to become too hard-boiled

as readers. The best operatives realize that, though it makes for greater suffering, a

keen sense of empathy is not a weakness; it is an essential tool of the trade. There are,

after all, missing persons to find.

2 See Kate Turabian, A Manual for Writers of Research Papers, Theses, and Dissertations,
Eighth Edition: Chicago Style for Students and Researchers Revised by Wayne C. Booth,
Gregory G. Colomb, Joseph M. Williams, and the University of Chicago Press Staff (Chicago: University
of Chicago Press, 2013).
 iv

Acknowledgements

If I was as alone with my worries as I, for dramatic effect, have portrayed my

situation in this novel I would have needed more than a hard-boiled detective to save

me.

I would like to thank my committee for their flexibility, patience, and help. The

work has benefitted from the care and insight of committee members Drs. Nancy

Moules and Jim Paul and their encouragement has been a source of strength. My

advisor, Dr. Jim Field, has been a tireless advocate. His imagination has helped me

keep the project true to its hard-boiled roots while his wisdom and prudence has

helped me keep the work scholarly.

My fellow-traveller through the PhD program, now Dr. Chris Gilham, has

been a great sounding board and a generous sharer of resources.

I am grateful to the partipants in my interviews for sharing their experiences so

openly and poetically.

I have always been supported in my work with diverse learners by trusted

colleagues. In particular, Pat Calon gave me a very thoughtful orientation on my very

first day of teaching in this area and has remained a confidant ever since, and Beth

Tobiasz has been a constant source of help and inspiration for me as well as my best

“work” friend ever since I started in diverse learning.

I’ve learned more from the students I’ve worked with than they from me.

Finally, I want to thank my daughter Emma for the book cover, as well as the

welcome respite her hilarious personality brings, and my wife Tracy for putting up

with the long hours I devoted to this undertaking, all the extra time she put in keeping

things together during my distraction, her careful proofreading, and her unwavering,

loving support.
 v

for Jacob
 vi

Table of contents

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Abstract....................................................................................................................i
Preface......................................................................................................................ii
Acknowledgements....................................................................................................Iv
Dedication.................................................................................................................v
Table of
Contents...................................................................................................................vi

DETECTIVE NOVEL

The Case of the Disappearing/Appearing Slow Learner:

An Interpretive Mystery ..............................................................................................1

APPENDICES……………………..………………………………………………………………...485

APPENDIX A: Research approval: Calgary Catholic School District …………….….....485

APPENDIX B: Adult consent, student assent, and parent consent

forms………………………………………………………….................................................486
I
It was a messy case. They can all get messy, but this one got under my skin. I

never should have agreed to it that day I got the call. Maybe I hadn’t had enough java

that day and my sense of danger was still in glorious repose. I was, to be sure, already

tired as I squeaked open the door of my office; already tired as I slouched into my

desk. I hadn’t had any business in a week, but I was still luxuriating in the rewards

from that last case: a bruised jaw, a torn rotator cuff, a fractured love life, and a slight

dimming of my already flickering pilot light of hope. I’d been paid out alright in

everything but fees, and even as I pondered the toll the last case had taken on me, I

knew I would need a paying job soon. The rent for the office was due and the dust

bunnies in my care needed to be provided for in the style they’d grown accustomed to.

I was torn between brewing a pot of java or treating myself to a drink from the office

bottle in the bottom drawer of my desk. I just sat there, staring at the wall, waiting to

see which impulse prevailed.

I was watching some ants skittering up the wall like they were racing toward

some kind of bounty. It might have been a speck of sugar from that day the week

before when I threw my mug of java against it. The one to bring it back to the queen

would win a knighthood. Above them a spider cruised along her web. They were racing

toward her too; they were just too busy to notice. I didn’t have the heart to tell them.

The unfolding drama was interrupted by the ringing of my phone.

I picked up and was about to announce myself when the voice on the other end

beat me to it.

“Is this Mr. Max Hunter?”

 2

I’d considered asking if he was a tax collector or jealous husband but he

sounded worried and I didn’t think a crack like that was necessarily appropriate. I

answered to the affirmative.

“It’s John Williamson. I am calling from Calgary, Alberta, Canada. I’m a teacher.

I teach special education. Actually, I sort of coordinate special education at my school.

Some of my students, the slow learners, they’ve all disappeared, and it’s not just here,

it’s all across the province.”

“So call the police. I’ve heard the Mounties always get their man.”

“I can’t, they don’t handle cases where metaphysics are involved.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but he sounded firm on the point. I

switched gears. “Why me?”

“I was told you were hard-boiled.”

He’d done some research. This impressed me, slightly. “Can you afford me?”

“Your usual rates are kind of steep for my department budget, but I need a

professional on this case, and I have some money left. You’d have to save every receipt

for expenses, and, I’m sorry to say this, pay for your own drinks.”

“I’m willing to meet to hear more, but no promises.” At least it would get me

out of the office, and away from that bottom drawer.

“Thank you, Mr. Hunter. That’s all I ask. I’ll meet you at my school next

Tuesday, during the first morning tutorial at 7:56 a.m., and make sure you park in

visitor, not teacher parking, and make sure to sign the book with your license plate

number, make and model of car, and the staff member you are visiting and time of

arrival and be sure to collect a visitor badge.”

“Can someone frisk me too?” I asked, mocking the formality of the proposed

liaison, candidly relieved by the prospect of employment despite my insouciant reply.

 3

So the Buick and I made our way to Calgary. As a West Coast hard-boiled

detective I hail from the state of frontier depravity and I can handle the elements.3

Still, it was warmer where I came from, and maybe everywhere else too, than it was at

this frozen city my potential client had summoned me to. In anticipation of this trip,

I’d found the removable extra layer of insulation my trench coat came with and zipped

it in, but it wasn’t enough. From the first time I stepped out of the Buick, the cold

assaulted me with the dull brutality of an overzealous cop beating a suspect with the

Los Angeles yellow pages.

Dive hotels, on the other hand, are the same everywhere; they smell funny but

the hosts don’t ask a lot of questions. After checking in, I let myself into my room with

some difficulty. I had been given one of those computerized card keys. I swiped it three

times, failing every try. I was just about to kick down the door when I realized I had it

upside down, corrected the problem and the door popped open. When I saw the room I

wondered why they had bothered with the fancy lock. Everything in it, including its

present occupant, was cheap, run down, and worthy of neither stealing nor protecting.

I sat on the slab they’d made out to be a bed, poured myself a double from the bottle

in my suitcase and thought about the case. He’d said they’d all disappeared.

“Disappeared, like a fist when you open your hand,” I thought.4 I wondered where

they’d gone. Was foul play involved?

After a restless night, the morning imposed itself on me cruelly. During the

night I’d dreamt I was at the dinner table, a shrill voice was telling me, “Don’t let your

meat touch your potatoes; don’t let your potatoes touch your peas …” over and over

again. I looked down, fork in hand, and tried to follow the instructions, and make

3
Cynthia Hamilton, Western and Hard - Boiled Detective Fiction in America from High Noon to Midnite
Volume 3 (Hong Kong: University of Iowa Press, 1987), 5.
4
Dashiell Hammet, The Maltese Falcon (New York: Afred A. Knopf 1930), 61. The simile is borrowed
from this source.
 4

sure my portions were orderly. My plate was filled with hundreds of tiny children

dressed in white, brown and green skittering across the plate with the unsettling

speed of fleeing mice. Just as I was beginning to recover from this dream and slip into

a more peaceful sleep, the four dollar travel alarm I had brought along woke up and

began pecking at my brain. Reluctantly rising, I used excessive force to disengage the

alarm and I brewed the complimentary two-cup java bag I found in the heavily

calcified machine on the other side of the bed. I choked down the rancid results,

quickly showered and shaved, and headed off to my appointment.

 5

II

It was an older school but reasonably well maintained. Graduation pictures

hung on the hallway walls. Looking at forty years of cohorts, I noted that some

hairstyles get reincarnated every twenty years while some run their course and are

heard from no more. The hallways were wide. I later learned this was to enable the

movement of large pieces of industrial equipment and such things and this feature

was typical of all schools built at the time due to extra federal sugar for the Industrial

Arts.5 Indeed, the school had several large Industrial Arts laboratories and I wondered

if I might be able to get a cheap haircut and maybe an oil change for the Buick, which

were two bits of professional maintenance I had been putting off before I left. It seemed

weird to see so many students milling about chattering, eating, jostling, talking or

texting on their smart phones, and to hear a band playing down the hall, while a

basketball team practised in the gym at a time of day when I might be barely out of

bed, wondering over java if I should bother to shave or not. Still, maybe this was

typical.

Williamson met me at the office. I gave my prospective client the once over. He

was of average height and build, dressed in beige corduroy pants slightly frayed at the

bottom, and brown boat shoes and a blue sweater. If he was meeting the requirements

of some kind of a dress code with that outfit it was one I couldn’t comprehend. He

smiled as he shook my hand in greeting; it was a sad smile. Clumsily, he only

connected with a third of my hand so while his grip had adequate pressure it was

more like a thumb shake. His eyes, like two dirty blue puddles on cracked white

concrete, looked worn out. He awkwardly handed me a business card. He made a hell

5
Norman Mathew, “Industrial education in Alberta its evolution and development, 1968-1982” (master’s
thesis, University of Alberta, 1984), 45.
 6

of a first impression; I thought he’d starve in a sales job. The job title on his card was

stupid too – Diverse Learning Coordinating Teacher. As I was glancing at the card,

Williamson observed some students playfully shoving each other in the hallway. He

watched for a while, decided to ignore them, and took me downstairs to his room. As

we walked, he told me a little about himself. He said he’d been teaching for seventeen

years, fifteen of them at his current school. He’d done various things at his school

including teaching some regular English Language Arts courses and acting, as far as I

could tell, as a sort of a broker for students who worked with community employers as

a part of their high school programs. Some of these students just worked at regular

jobs, but some did this as a part of accreditation for regulated trades like mechanics

or welding. Lately, he’d been in charge of coordinating services for students who were

seen as having various exceptional or additional needs, and there were quite a few

such students at his school. The one common thread in his career, he said, was that

ever since he began at his current school he’d been working directly with slow learners

as a part of his job assignment. I made a mental note of all of this but didn’t know

enough about the case yet to ask any questions.

We came to Williamson’s room. A title above the door of the room read, rather

presumptuously I thought, ‘The Learning Centre’. It seemed a larger than average

classroom and a lot was going on in there. Some students were sitting in desks

completing assignments occasionally asking a staff member for help. There were

twelve desktop computer stations along the wall. At the desktop stations, students

were doing research, on-line courses, word processing, and a few appeared to be

discreetly watching music videos or playing games. A rather fidgety student, wearing

earphones, sat with her desk pulled up to the corner walls of the room, completing a

worksheet by locating answers in a large textbook labeled, simply, Foods. A cluster of

 7

students sat at a table along the other wall, and were taking turns receiving tutorial

help in math from a female staff member who, Williamson later told me, had a knack

for helping students in this discipline. The room broke into five smaller rooms at the

back, an office, and four quiet work spaces for students which Williamson told me had

once been storage areas before being re-tasked for their present purpose. In the

middle of these, another assistant was reading an English exam out loud to two

students. Williamson sat me down on the other end of his desk near the back of the

main room of the Learning Centre. He said he liked to work in the main room instead

of the small office behind him so he could stay in touch with what was going on in the

room. He shoved stacks of paperwork, large folders with students’ names on them,

booklets entitled ‘Individual Program Plan’, and other booklets entitled ‘Referral for

Support’ to either side of the large desk, forming a valley through which we better

could see at each other as we talked.

“So tell me about the slow learners,” I began. “Who exactly are you talking

about? And, where do you think they went?”

“There really isn’t a clear answer to either question. Psychology tells us slow

learners are …,” he replied, and then he resorted to making finger quotation marks in

the air, “individuals whose I.Q.s, you know, their measured intelligence quotients, are

one but not two standard deviations below the mean – in the low average range

between 75 and 89.” He closed his finger quotations as he elaborated on the data.

“Two deviations would mean they had intellectual disabilities. They don’t; they are

only one deviation below. But they’re supposed to learn slower than ‘average’ students

and need extra help.”6

6
See Erin King, “FAQ Parents ask about Struggling (Slow) Learners,” School psychologist files
accessed October 19, 2014, http://schoolpsychologistfiles.com/slowlearnerfaq/.
 8

“That sounds like it came out of a textbook,” I observed. “Who do you think slow

learners are?”

“Well, I end up reading the files of the kids I work with, and a lot of the kids

who struggle do seem to have I.Q. scores in that range. But I think it’s more

complicated than that....”

Something was wrong with that. I thought for a second and then it came to me.

“What do you mean you work with them? I thought they all disappeared?”

“I guess I have to tell you they haven’t exactly physically disappeared like I

might have implied on the phone,” he admitted, “in fact, some of them are probably

working in this room right now.”

Suddenly my mind was full of hornets. My hand itched to slap him. Clients hold

out on me all the time, it’s a convention of the genre, but I’d never had one try to hire

me to find something he knew was right in front of him before. Through clenched teeth

I demanded why he had dragged me out to this frigid city just to waste my time on

such a case. Before he could answer I thought better of the question, the mysteries of

the human heart being what they are, and I muttered something about being on my

way home and expecting to be paid well for, as I put it, dropping everything to come

up to take on this case. Then I got up to begin the long journey back to the bleak

predictabilities of my own dark city, the violent streets I travel on, alone and unafraid,

the equally complex but more interesting femme fatales, my dingy apartment, my

decaying office and, of course, my bottom drawer.

Williamson stood too. Looking stricken, he began to desperately plead for me to

stay. “You don’t understand, the slow learners might not have physically disappeared,

except for the ones who have dropped out of school, but they have largely disappeared

from the talk, or discourse of special education, here and all over the province, and I
 9

think that’s pretty important. Look, I’m sorry I oversimplified things. Please, you’ve

come all this way, just hear me out for a little while longer before you decide.”

I didn’t have much to lose in staying another minute, I concluded. When I later

told the story of this wasted trip, this foolish client, I thought, the more details I could

offer, the more I might be likely to hear one of my favorite phrases, ‘on the house,’

from sympathetic bartenders. Besides I was curious about something he said.

“So what if nobody talks about them?” I argued. “The kids are here. You try to

help them, and it looks like things are going o.k. in your resource room (I’d heard that

term from a previous client and felt a tinge of pride in being able to talk to this

specialist in his own lingo). So, what’s the problem?”

Williamson grimaced and beckoned me to go with him to the private office space

behind him. Flustered, he tried several keys on his key ring until he found the one

that opened the office door. He let us in and shut the door behind us. I considered

remarking that it’s always the last key you try but then thought better of it.

“Careful what you say,” He cautioned earnestly, “these are high school kids;

some of them have had bad experiences in resource rooms in junior high and

elementary schooling. So, we call this room a learning centre not a resource room. And

the kids aren’t forced to come. It’s up to them to come for help, and we don’t just help

the so-called ‘special needs kids’, we help anyone who drops in and….”

I cut him off before he could say anything more. He had misled me into making

the trip down here and now he was getting pedantic. “Whatever, your learning centre. I

get it. The kids come; you help them, whatever they’re labeled, no real mystery, end of

story.”

“No, it isn’t the end of the story. The kids with other exceptionalities like

Autism, intellectual disabilities, learning disabilities, mental health issues, and

 10

Attention Deficit Disorder have special education codes. We have to write Individual

Program Plans (IPPs) to describe the types of specialized support they will receive, and

special funding is attached to them. Alberta Education releases resource manuals to

describe how to best help these kids, school districts hire consultants to help us help

them, they receive accommodations on tests, like readers or scribes, to help level the

playing field. 7 Even the most rigid teachers know that it’s expected that they do

something more for kids with specific disabilities. Slow learners don’t have any of

these guarantees.”

“Should they?”

“Well, maybe. The kids I work with, the ones who fit the profile, seem to have a

pretty rough time with school. Extra resources to help a struggling kid are always

nice.”

“You seem hesitant. What’s the downside?”

“Labeling practices haven’t necessarily been wholly beneficial in special

education.8 I think it’s unlikely that adding one more ‘official’ label would solve very

much. I’d like the additional resources, but do we have to call everything that might

cause a student to struggle ‘a disability’ in order to get the resources? Also, how would

I know if there aren’t a bunch of other kids out there with the same I.Q. levels who are

doing just fine in school? I might only end up working with the slow learners who are

struggling. The population of students with this cognitive profile might be too diverse

7
See Alberta Education, Selecting Accommodations and Strategies (Edmonton: Government of Alberta,
2006), 1-3. In their general manual on accommodations Alberta Education has defined an
accommodation as “a change or alteration in the regular way a student is expected to learn, complete
assignments or participate in classroom activities.” Some assessment accommodations defined in this
manual include allowing breaks during a test, reducing the number of questions, breaking a test into parts
and administering them at separate times, and / or providing a reader or a scribe.
8 Hugh Mehan, Alma Hertweck, and J. Lee Meihls, Handicapping the Handicapped: Decision Making in
Students’ Educational Careers (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1986); and J. C. Couture,
“Inclusion—Alberta’s educational palimpsest,” ATA Magazine, 92, no. 3 (March 5, 2012), 54.
 11

for the label to mean much of anything.9 Still I think we need something more than

what we currently have for these kids.”

This was getting worse and worse. He’d misled me into coming, lectured me on

terminology and now it seemed like he wasn’t even completely sure he wanted me to

solve the case. Seeking some kind of satisfactory answer I pressed on. “Well, do you

want me to find where the idea of a slow learner went or not?”

“I do, but after you find it, I want you to help me decide how we should bring it

back to the school. What aspects of ‘slow learner’ should be downplayed? What is of

worth in the idea? What helps us teach kids?”

I brought up something else that was still troubling me. “I still don’t get it. Why

me? I’m just a wise-cracking shamus. Aren’t you worried people won’t think you take

this thing seriously if you put me on the case?”

“Look, maybe I need you because you’re a wise-cracking shamus. Seems like a

lot of people who work in this field, myself included, can be pretty earnest about

things. Maybe your approach is a good way of being heard, of pointing out some of the

problems without being totally depressing. Maybe ‘care’ is a better concept than ‘take

serious’. I care deeply about this issue. The opposite of care isn’t humor, it's

indifference, inaction….”

“I’m not your hired clown. If all you want is to change the tone, you can do that

yourself.”

“It’s more than that. I need you. I can’t do this on my own. I need your distance

from the case. I’m researching in my own backyard here, closer than even that in

some ways.” I found this last statement cryptic but allowed my potential client to

9
Tim Claypool, T. Christopher Murusiak, and Henry Janzen, “Ability and Achievement Variables in
Average, Low Average, and Borderline Students,” Alberta Journal of Educational Research 54 no. 4
(winter 2008): 434.
 12

continue. “I need you to ask questions I wouldn’t be comfortable asking, to go places I

can’t go. I’m stuck here all day, but I’m guessing you like to work by moving around a

lot.10 You’re going to have to look for this in some weird places, maybe some dark

places.”

“That’s the first thing you’ve said that makes any sense to me. But there’s

something more isn’t there?”

Williamson looked down. He spoke in a small voice. “It hurts. There are some

things about special education that hurt me to talk about. I need your help. I need

your strength.”

I didn’t know if I should pursue this line of questioning anymore. As a detective

I felt I ought to. As a man I was beginning to feel that I’d prodded this guy enough for

the day. A student knocking on the door broke my reverie. He wanted Williamson to

help him track down some answers in a welding textbook. They’d obviously done this

sort of thing a lot before. Williamson excused himself, said we could talk more in a

minute. As he walked back to his desk with the student, all the nervous tension he’d

been showing in our conversation seemed to drain out of his body. It seemed that in

the moments when was working directly with these kids he was freed, temporarily,

from having to worry so much about them. He pulled up a chair and he started

helping the student, not doing it for him but giving him some clues. He reminded him

to look for key words from the question and gave him hints like telling him the page

numbers or even paragraphs where the various answers were hiding, so the student

didn’t have to reread the whole chapter looking for every answer. Every now and then

he would read a section out loud and the student would write down the parts that he

10
David Schmid “Manhood, Modernity and Crime Fiction,” in A Concise Companion to American
Fiction 1900 – 1950 eds. Peter Stoneley and Cindy Weinstein (Oxford: Blackwell, 2008), 99.
 13

thought were the answers. This method didn’t exactly look like rocket science, but it

seemed to work. They were both at ease, joking a little even as they worked together.

I figured I’d learned all I was going to by watching Williamson and the student work

together, so as they continued, I grabbed a booklet with his school’s logo off the

bookshelf in the back office and skimmed through it. It turned out it was a registration

booklet intended to guide students, and the parents and teachers who advised them,

in selecting courses. I was surprised to discover that there so many tiers of academic

courses offered at each grade level. If I counted Advanced Placement, 11 which

according to the booklet was supposed to be an enhanced but not entirely separate

curriculum, there were four levels of English Language Arts available for grade ten

students. I assumed the bottom level which was numbered ‘10-4’ was for slow

learners. Math, science and social studies all appeared to work on the same tiered

principle, with a class coded as ‘10-4’ representing the lowest-skilled tier in each

discipline.12

Having completed his brief session of tutorial help, Williamson returned to the back

office.

“Kind of funny he asks me for help on welding theory, Williamson noted as he

returned to the office. “I’m all thumbs.” I had figured that out from the thumb shake,

“I don’t have a clue about welding. But I find the text pretty straightforward.”

“It must be sad when kids are that over their heads in a class.” I speculated.

I thought I’d said something appropriately sympathetic but Williamson didn’t

like that very much. “He can handle the class. The welding teacher says he is one of

11
Calgary Board of Education, Advanced Placement (Calgary: CBE Program Renewal and Media
Services, 2004), 1.
12
Alberta Education, Provincially Authorized Senior High School Courses and Course Codes
including K–12 Withdrawn Courses and Programs (Edmonton: Alberta Education, 2014), 1, 6.
https://education.alberta.ca/media/9118204/coursecodes2014.pdf.
 14

the best welders in there, but he has a hell of a time with the book work. This is what

he wants to do. We can help him here, but I hope he makes it through the college

component of his welding ticket. It would help if he had a formal learning disability -

they have good disability services in the trades schools. He could have things read out

loud to him. But he doesn’t, so I don’t know if he’ll be able to get this kind of help in

his technical training. I’ve read his file, according to his I.Q., he’s just a slow learner.”

“Here we go.” I thought. I felt an even worse hard luck tale coming on.

“Another time I sat with a girl and her parents while the psychologist reviewed

the results of psychometric testing,” Williamson began, confirming my suspicion. “We

had sent in a referral for testing because she was struggling in all her classes. Her ESL

(English as a Second Language) teacher said she was way behind her peers in learning

English, especially when it came to reading and writing, and she was failing almost

everything else except for cosmetology and math. Well, the psychologist put her I.Q.

around seventy, but said her adaptive functioning was too high to put her in a special

ed. class.13 That made sense too. She was very competent at most of the other things

we would expect kids her age to be able to do and she was quite gifted in some things.

She had held down a part-time job for more than a year, and often took care of her

younger sisters at home. She was doing great on the hands-on assignments in her

cosmetology class. She probably spent an hour before school every day on her clothes,

hair and make-up. She had a real knack for that sort of thing - she always looked so

glamorous. Anyhow, the psychologist then told us this kid was reading at a grade one

13
See Alberta Education, Special Education Coding Criteria 2012 – 2013. (Edmonton: Government of
Alberta, 2012), 3. The special education class was for students with mild intellectual disabilities. The
diagnosis of mild intellectual disability requires both an IQ in the 50 to 75 (plus or minus five) range and
a demonstration of adaptive behavior, as measured by a standardized inventory, in the delayed range.
Therefore, as in this case, a student whose IQ falls in the intellectual disability range, but who has high
adaptive functioning also falls into the ‘slow learner grey zone’. Such a student would be predicted to
struggle academically, but would be ineligible for many support services.
 15

level. She said the only way we had any hope of getting her through even the lowest

level of classes in the ‘regular education’ tier of instruction would be to do an extensive

remedial reading intervention with her, at least an hour a day of one on one work for

an entire semester. Even after that, she told us we would probably have to continue to

have an assistant reading all her tests out loud with her for better understanding and

we’d likely have to scribe major writing assignments with her. Do you know what our

psychologist said the only problem would be with providing these interventions?”

I was pretty sure I could guess but the question sounded rhetorical.

“She said the district couldn’t officially provide any of these services. We

couldn’t be funded for any teacher assistant time to get someone to work with her and

no one from the special education team would even be available to come out to help us

set up a reading program, because according to the testing she didn’t have a learning

disability or an intellectual disability. She was just a slow learner who was very behind

in reading.”

This was a good story. I was beginning to understand some of Williamson’s

frustrations, but I still didn’t entirely trust him. Some things still didn’t make sense.

“Wait a minute,” I asserted, “I thought you said nobody uses the term ‘slow learner’

any more. Sounds like your psychologist does.”

“I’m sorry. Sure the psychologist uses it but in terms of funded services offered,

special education programs or Alberta Education’s published best practices for helping

these kids, the phrase ‘slow learner’ vanishes into the air. It’s weird so much of the

vocabulary of educational psychology is pretty common vocabulary with teachers in

schools too, but other than that specialized use I talked about, this one just gets

skipped”.14

14
Claypool, Murusiak, and Janzen, “Ability and Achievement Variables,” 434 – 435.
 16

Williamson was then briefly distracted glancing through the large window of the

office to the outer room. He wasn’t needed, though. Numbers were thinning out.

Several of the students were ambling out, and some actually appearing to thank the

staff members who had been working with them. “Classes start in five minutes,”

Williamson informed me.

“Well, I’m sure cases like the one with that girl are pretty rare,” I speculated,

resuming the conversation.

“Actually, I’ve looked it up. According to some, it’s pretty common for a

psychologist to be caught in the position of recommending services for a slow learners

even while knowing the children won’t qualify because they don’t ‘technically’ have

disabilities.”15

I was becoming more interested in spite of myself. I take a sick pleasure from

twisted cases, the absurdity of human arrangements, like we’re all very young children

dressed up in grown up clothes, inventing a game with no object and then arguing

about the rules. This case was starting to sound especially twisted. I still thought he

was holding out on me, though.

“Supposing, just supposing, I do agree to take the case. Do you have any idea

where I should start looking?”

“Actually, yes. I think you first need to go back and see if you can find ‘slow

learner’ or something like it, some basis for what we now think of as ‘slow learner’ in

the past.”

“How far back do I need to go?”

“You’ll have to rely on your instincts for that, I’m not really sure. I bet some

aspects of this label go a long way back.”

15
Ibid., 44.
 17

“Where else do I need to look?”

“Well, even though we don’t hear the term in schools, ‘slow learner’ seems to

pop up pretty often in the news stories, in popular fiction, and even in movies. I’d take

a look there. See how popular culture constructs the idea.”

I liked the sound of that. I had a lot of former clients in Hollywood. Williamson

continued, “Then, there’s a series of classes for struggling students. They’re called

Knowledge and Employability, or K & E, classes. Before that it was called The

Integrated Occupational Program, or IOP. They don’t use the words ‘slow learner’

anywhere in the curricula for these courses, but “low average I.Q.” is mentioned as a

criteria in admittance. The criteria also mentions that students who take K & E are all

supposed to be well below grade level in their academic skills and at-risk of not

completing a high school diploma.”16

I shouldn’t have been surprised by this gem, but I was. I’d almost agreed to the

case and then he handed this to me. “Hang on,” I interjected, “there’s a program for

these kids? A special education program? You keep telling me they’ve disappeared but

these kids keep popping up all over the place! I have some advice for you; it’s pretty

technical but let’s see if you can grasp it. You don’t look for things that aren’t lost! I’ve

been trying to tell you this since I got here. Are you a slow learner too, Williamson?” All

of a sudden I was fixing to leave again, feeling some pleasure about getting this parting

shot in.

Williamson didn’t care for this remark. Briefly the mild-mannered teacher’s

eyebrows bunched together forming the familiar vertical and horizontal creases

between his eyes and his lips tightened. Then, after a minute, his mood shifted

16
Alberta Education, Information Manual for Knowledge and Employability Courses (Edmonton:
Alberta Education Curriculum Branch, 2008), 41. http://education.alberta.ca/
media/524889/infomanual.pdf.
 18

without improving as his eyes and mouth drooped downward and he sort of hugged

himself involuntarily. “Look,” he said sadly, “I appreciate that you’ve come a long way

and this is an unusual case for you. Maybe I’m an annoying client too.” I could have

corrected him, he was only a potential client, but I said nothing. “You’ve earned the

right to call me anything you want. Please, though, just think twice before you

casually throw out a label that my kids didn’t choose to have as your favorite insult,

like it stands for everything that’s disagreeable.”

Despite Williamson’s unassertive posture, I felt I was being corrected. Probably

his standard reaction to anyone who indulged in politically incorrect special education

talk in his room. I thought he was going a bit overboard. After all, he did seem pretty

slow to understand my problems with this case. Sure, there might have been a trace of

derision in my choice of words, but I thought I was mostly being literal.

Just then, Williamson recovered himself slightly as he smiled a strange smile.

“Besides, you’ve proven my point,” he remarked, “I’m guessing your business doesn’t

take you to schools very often but I bet it’s not the first time that you’ve called

someone that. However distorted, this phrase is clearly out there in the big bad world

so why isn’t it in here,” he gestured around his room, “more?”

He’d hit on a sort of interesting point. I was proud of him. I decided to stay

another minute.

“Anyhow, you don’t understand, those classes aren’t a program. They’re just a

series of classes. And schools don’t have to offer them, they’re optional. They’re not in

special education; they’re in the vocational education area.17 They’re supposed to be

better paced for slow learning students and more connected to the practical use of

what’s being taught, more hands-on. There are some problems though, with these

17
Ibid., 41.
 19

classes. One of the main ones is that the students who complete these classes don’t

get a full high school diploma, they get something called a Certificate of

Achievement.18 I’ve never thought that was right. A lot of the kids and their parents

aren’t very fond of this distinction, they find it demeaning. I’ve always thought a lot

more students could benefit from these classes than the few who end up enrolling in

them and less kids are signing up for K & E classes at my school every year. From

what I can tell, school districts around here aren’t that crazy about K & E either.

Several schools in this city that specialized in K & E have been shut down recently and

a lot of composite schools are no longer even offering discrete K & E classes to slower

learning students in their populations either. At best, they’re borrowing from the K &

E curriculum to make the work easier for slower students in large, faster-paced high

school diploma level classes, which I’m not sure are the safest places for slow learners.

But it’s hard to justify separate K & E classes of seven or eight students to

administrators who are worried about regular education class sizes of forty students.

They’d rather just use the K & E teachers as regular teachers to keep these numbers

down. I’m constantly hearing we just need to offer the weaker students the K & E

curriculum in the regular classes.”

“Why do you think it’s a bad idea to offer classes that combine the K & E kids

with the regular students?” I asked.

“It’s not always a bad idea, I mean the education system is always supposed to

be getting more inclusive for everyone, and the K & E students are in a lot of the

regular classes, like option classes and religion classes, if it’s a Catholic school, with

everyone else. But, and I know this doesn’t make me sound very inclusive, there’s

some things about large core classes, you know English, Math, Science and Social

18
Ibid., 21.
 20

Studies, how they’re set up and how they’re often taught, how they’re assessed, that

can make them unsafe places for slow learners. These were the sorts of classes K & E

students have been meeting failure in for their whole careers, before coming into K &

E.”

Just then the laser printer a student was trying to print something out on made

a grinding sound followed by a series of beeps. Williamson’s colleague was still

working with the math students, so he had to go over and fix the paper jam. He came

back and starting talking immediately, now seeming to rush his words a bit. The pre-

school tutorial period would be over any minute. “So you definitely need to look into K

& E. And for that matter, maybe you need to look into some formal special education

programs, or in some formal special education labels too.”

“Why would I do that?” I asked. “You said slow learners can’t be found there.”

“I said slow learners can’t officially be found there, but don’t be so sure.

Besides, if you are looking for a suspect on the lam, doesn’t finding out where he

didn’t go, and why, sometimes lead you to where he is?”

Though oversimplified, this was sort of true, and I indicated my acceptance with

a slight nod.

“Oh, and one more thing,” my potential client cautioned, “There’s something

else, you can’t go into this unarmed, it’s too risky.”

“Gotcha. I’ve got a sidearm in my luggage back at the hotel. I call her

Candace.19 She gets cranky if I don’t take her out once in a while.”

“Please don’t talk that way in my learning centre, it’s violent and misogynistic.”

I chose not to comment on the kinds of video games I saw the kids playing, so

19
See Ronald Jackson, Classic Television Action, Crime & Adventure A Pictorial History (Bloomington:
Author House, 2014), 359. In the television series based on Mickey Spillane’s popular detective novels,
the protagonist, Mike Hammer affectionately names his large sidearm ‘Betsy’.
 21

furtively, on the computers when we came in. Williamson seemed to have a pretty

selective understanding of what happened in his learning centre. He continued,

“Besides, that’s not what I meant. You are going to need to be armed with some sort of

research philosophy, some kind of method.”

“What do you know about detective methods?” I demanded. “A client sees a

couple of actors in the movies playing good cop / bad cop and he thinks he knows how

detectives work. My methods are my business.”

“I don’t know about being a detective,” Williamson admitted, “but this is an

educational research issue, and I know that can get messy and convoluted. A topic like

this, I’d think begs for some strategy that helps you work with language and

metaphysics, keeps you moving forward practically instead of getting lost in all of it.

Something that enables you to avoid the false clues and see what’s hidden.”

“Don’t try to impress me with this talk of educational research,” I warned. “I

know jargon when I hear it. It sounds more like you’ve been reading too much

Sherlock Holmes. You think it’s some kind of method or set of principles that helps

you sort out the real clues from the red herrings. I don’t adopt any one method

because if I did I might miss things. That’s where most of the police I work with, even

the sharp ones, go wrong. I keep my mind and my eyes open, I wear out my shoes, I

ask a lot of questions, and I know when to grease palms and when to twist wrists. And

I have experience. I rarely begin investigating any two cases the same way, but in the

end I usually get my clients the truth, sometimes more than they can handle. So, I

won’t be told by any client how to work. I’ve turned down better paying and better

looking clients than you when they tried to make similar demands. You want me, this

is what you get.” I hadn’t intended to reveal that much but conversing with this

schoolteacher had somehow brought out the lecturer in me too.

 22

“I don’t want to argue,” he said wearily. “But this is a special case. One that’s

going to involve parsing a lot of knowledge claims you’ve never heard before. Please,

just consider some interpretive method to arm yourself with, or to add to your toolbox

or whatever.”20

I could tell by his metaphors he had gone from making a demand to offering a

suggestion. I could ignore a suggestion, so I was content to leave it at that. Even

though I had no intention of following up on whatever he was recommending, I kind of

liked the toolbox idea. I didn’t want to hear Williamson talk about it anymore, but I

filed it in my mental gallery of curiosities. I changed the subject by asking if there were

any other leads I should check out.

“Well, you might want to talk to some other teachers to clarify if this

disappearance is as serious a concern as I think it is. You might want to find out if

they’ve heard ‘slow learner’ as a concept as rarely as I have, and find out how they

manage with students with this profile, without having much by way of resources or

guidelines to help them. Also, maybe some other researchers have done similar

investigations or, at least, related work. I can’t be the only one who has ever noticed

this disappearance. You need to check that out.”

“Anything else?”

“That’s pretty much all I can think of. There’s probably all sorts of places you’ll

end up going that I haven’t anticipated but that’s all I have for now.”

There was still one thing I didn’t understand. “I’m sure this has been bothering

you for years; so, why do we need to investigate this now? Why not last year? Why not

next year?”

20
“I would like my books to be a kind of tool-box which others can rummage through to find a tool which
they can use however they wish in their own area...,” Michel Foucault, “Prisons et asiles dans le
mécanisme du pouvoir” in Dits et Ecrits, Volume II (Paris: Gallimard, 1974) 523 - 524, this passage trans.
Clare O'Farrell http://www.michel-foucault.com/quote/2004q.html.
 23

“Like I said I’m getting worried for K & E. Right now we have separate K & E

classes in every core area, but I don’t know how long we’ll be allowed to sustain this

with the low enrolments we’ve been having. I’m afraid the slow learners will just get

dumped in regular classes with no additional supports one year, and the numbers of

students registered for K & E will be so low there won’t be anything I will be able to

say to stop it. That and I’m finding it harder to work through the frequent lack of

resources and understanding of what these kids need lately.”

“That’s rough, princess. I suggest a few doubles after work. You’ll sleep like a

baby and be too numb to be so bothered the next day.”

He looked pained, again. This was sort of fun. I thought I might have to take the

case just so I could offend his sensibilities for a few days. If he’d hired me for my

misanthropic tendencies, I’d make sure he got his money’s worth. If I took the case

that is. He recovered some of his dignity and, once again, clarified.

“Well, it’s not just that. I’m hearing of some new things going on in special

education. Many of the researchers who look at special ed., not to mention the

students, parents, and teachers who are stakeholders in special education, have been

saying it’s too regimented, too much based on a deficit model, and more medical than

educational. They’ve been saying this in the field for years. 21 Alberta Education is

starting to listen. They might finally be looking critically at some past or current

practices and attempt to move away from the formality of codes and disabilities. I don’t

know as much about all this, except that part of the aim is to make school more

flexible for all learners. I hear they’re looking not only to reform special education, but

21
Alberta Education, Setting the Direction for Special Education in Alberta: A Review of the Literature
(Edmonton: Alberta Education, 2009), 2-3.
 24

the whole Alberta curriculum to promote this kind of flexibility.22 I want to make sure

the needs of slow learners don’t get forgotten in these changes.”

“I get it. When they start digging the past mischief up, you want to make sure

they find all the bodies.”

I’d startled him again with my choice of words; it was too easy. With summoned

patience he clarified, “Well, maybe that’s necessary as a beginning, but I’m more

worried about making sure the needs of slow learners are addressed in whatever new

system they come up with.”

So here it was; the crisis I’d been waiting to hear about. There was some

urgency here. It was more than this strange man’s trepidations. There might really be

something I could help solve here. I was curious, and something about those stories

Williamson had been telling got to me. I weighed my options. What was the worst thing

that could happen? Actually that wasn’t the right question. The worst thing that could

happen was that I would freeze to death chasing down empty leads and not be

discovered until the spring thaw. But the case seemed interesting enough, some

wrongs to right and some rent money to earn along the way. It might have just been

the bad coffee from the hotel, but I felt a twinge in my gut telling me that I ought to

help this guy.

Just then, another crisis. The bell Williamson told me would ring soon – did.

Williamson and I watched through the office window as a new set of kids began to

filter into the room.

“My homeroom class,” Williamson told me. I could see he had to get back to

work. Looked like our meeting was coming to an end. He needed an answer. I wanted

22
Alberta Education, Setting the Direction Towards a System Re-design (Edmonton: Alberta Education,
2009), 5-8.
 25

to say something hopeful, but I still wanted to hear him beg one more time before I

agreed.

“That’s not a bad start Williamson. The parts that make sense, I mean. A better

collection of leads than I normally get.”

He actually blushed. “Thanks. Like the kids, I guess, I may need help but I’m

not helpless.” Sounded like he’d said that before. “Will you please take the case?”

“One hundred and twenty-five dollars a day plus expenses.”

We shook hands to seal the deal. Williamson’s aim seemed to have improved

since his last attempt at the social convention with me a few minutes ago in the main

office. He managed to made contact with all of the appropriate digits this time.
 26

III

Sitting in the Buick with windshield wipers fending off a slow but insistent

snowfall, I realized I had no idea where to start. I had to do something though. A

paying case is always good, but I didn’t want to be stuck in this city any longer than I

had to and this unnaturally early meeting had left me with a lot of day to work with.

More often than not, I like to work by stirring things up instead of piecing things

together, looking hard at what comes to the surface, but I didn’t even really know

where to stir. I knew I wouldn’t be going to the methods store or wherever Williamson

thought I would go to find some kind of research method. I’d be just fine without any

of this, I didn’t get hard-boiled overnight and besides, I always had Candace if I got

myself into trouble.

Williamson had lent me his public library and university library cards so I could

get up to speed on the case. I had a roughly similar general appearance, aside from

being slimmer and better dressed, and I thought maybe a nice warm library might be a

good place to check up on some of the facts of Williamson’s story. I still didn’t entirely

trust this strange, earnest client. He seemed, at times a moralizing boy scout, at other

times a delusional fool. What kind of man hires a detective to look for an educational

category? Still, every now and then I thought I heard in things he said echoes of some

of the same “fierce grief” I feel.23 Grief over not fitting in, or not buying in, being too

troubled by all the little wayward things others take for granted, having a nose too

sensitive to the rot. In the sick little world where I operate, the sheen of nobility this

gives me is about as useful as a cereal box sheriff’s badge. I wondered what it did for

Williamson.

23
Hamilton, Western and Hard - Boiled Detective Fiction, 25.
 27

I drove to the downtown public library, and then, annoyed, progressively further

away from the library as all the nearby lots were full. I reluctantly parked in a lot that

was neither close nor affordable and walked several chilly blocks. Reaching my

destination, I passed through a metal detector overseen by an ancient sentry. I’d

guessed there might be such security and begrudgingly left Candace locked and lonely

in the trunk of the Buick. I found a computer station to work at in a row of cubicles

near the back of the library.

I sat myself down in a little patch of heaven, a graffiti-strewn cubicle with

chipped particle board and a hard plastic chair and a desktop computer with greasy

keys and a smudged screen. I began to look up subjects on the library computer. I

thought maybe I’d verify what Williamson had begun to tell me about slow learners in

our first meeting. It was weird, as soon as I entered the phrase “slow learner” the

library catalogue computer seemed to slow down. Despite this, I managed to locate a

recent book on the topic in their holdings. It was called Slow Learners: Their

Psychology and Instruction,24 and a copy was available at this branch. I left my trench

coat on the chair to mark my place and walked up the stairs, retrieved the book from

one of the shelves and returned to my station.

I noticed that while I was upstairs, I had acquired a neighbor in the cubicle

beside me. He didn’t seem particularly sociable or even conscious. A head of matted

hair rested, facing away from me, on a huge fleshy forearm. A formless grey overcoat

concealed the rest of my companion’s appearance, but I could detect the sickly sweet

smell of rot. Classy joint.

24
G.L. Reddy, R. Ramar, and A. Kusama, Slow learners: Their Psychology and Instruction. (New Delhi:
Discovery Publishing House, 2006).
 28

The cover of the book depicted a child of twelve or thirteen sitting backwards on a

chair, maybe to emphasize his perceived backwardness as a slow learner. He was

staring out at me with a look that was both forlorn and somewhat vacant. Reading the

introduction, I noticed that the authors authoritatively stated the I.Q. levels

Williamson had only mentioned approximately. Also, I observed they seemed to think

they had pretty much everything else figured out about slow learners too.

The experience of educators confirms that there are many children who are so

backward in basic subjects that they need special help. These pupils have

limited scope for achievement. They have intelligence quotients between 76

and 89 and they constitute about 18 percent of the total school population.

These students do not stand out as very different from their classmates

except that they are always a little slow on the uptake and are often teased

by the other students because of their slowness. They are quite well built

physically but rather clumsy and uncoordinated in movement. They are no

trouble in school. Although much of the work is difficult for them, they are

patient and cooperative … They need help in the form of special class [sic] in

ordinary school. Most slow learners struggle along in ordinary classes failing

to have the special attention which they need25.

“Wow,” I thought, “Could it be true that almost a fifth of the students in any given

school are just like this?” That smelled funny so I checked out another source on the

computer. This time an article written by an American psychologist answering a series

of FAQs or ‘Frequently Asked Questions’ about slow learners on the website

“schoolpsychogistfiles.com”.26

25
Ibid., 4.
26
King, “FAQ Parents Ask” para. 1.
 29

A “slow learner” is not a diagnostic category, it is a term people use to

describe a student who has the ability to learn necessary academic skills, but

at rate and depth below average same age peers. In order to grasp new

concepts, a slow learner needs more time, more repetition, and often more

resources from teachers to be successful. Reasoning skills are typically

delayed, which makes new concepts difficult to learn.

At this point, the website quoted the same IQ numbers that Williamson and the

previous book mentioned. But then the writer made this interesting clarification:

Those who fall two standard deviations below the mean are often identified

as having an Intellectual Disability (IQ below 70). A slow learner does not

meet criteria for an Intellectual Disability (also called mental retardation) [sic].

However, she learns slower than average students and will need additional

help to succeed.27

All this sorting into cozy little boxes was making me miss my little warm hotel

room. I was tired. I noticed my companion in the next cubicle had disappeared; I

chided myself for missing this when it happened. Still, he’d seemed harmless. I gave

myself a couple of quick slaps to the face and concentrated on my search again.

I was looking for a different perspective on this classification process and found

a study in an on-line journal that offered just that. This article was pretty technical.

Still, I was able to piece together that these authors didn’t like how psychologists and

educators, in their opinions, often overused the idea of ‘low average’ in describing the

traits and needs of students. ‘Low average,’ I realized, described the very same IQ

range as slow learners were said to have. They said ‘low average’ carried the risk of

being a self-fulfilling prophecy for children without the benefit of being a label that

27
Ibid., para. 2.
 30

leads to additional services. In addition to this, the authors did an interesting

experiment. They found one hundred and ninety-six archived I.Q. tests from a private

clinic in an urban centre in Alberta and rescored these tests using a different scoring

system that was also considered acceptable in the field. They found that a full eighteen

percent of the classifications changed by one category, from low average to average for

example. No wonder these slow learners were elusive. You could make them come and

go by how you scored the test.

The authors who did the rescoring experiment, like Williamson, were pretty

critical about the practice of denying struggling students’ special education services on

the basis of their low average IQ tests. I wondered why this would even happen. I

found an answer to this, though not a very satisfying one, in the psychologist’s website

I was looking at earlier. It was in her answer to an F. A. Q. “If these students struggle

so much, why do are they often not eligible for Special Education?”

Special Education services are provided for students who have a disability.

Slow learners typically do not have a disability, even though they need extra

support. Cognitive abilities are too high for these learners to be considered for

an Intellectual Disability. However, the abilities are usually too low to be

considered for a Learning Disability. Consider that a learning disability

consists of discrepancies between average abilities and below average

academics, coupled with a processing deficit. Schools often look for a

discrepancy between a student's ability and where they are performing. Slow

learners tend to perform at their ability level, which is below average. To the

disappointment of many, slow learners often do not receive special education

services.28

28
Ibid., para. 3.
 31

I was still a little shaky about the claims these sources were making about this

group of students, but now something new was bugging me too. If I had it right, it

seemed strange to me that in many jurisdictions a special education system had

evolved such that it routinely excluded from special services a whole group of learners

that the intelligence tests it seemed to value so highly predicted would struggle at

school. Where have the slow learners gone, indeed? Maybe my foolish client was on to

something after all. A little thrill of danger ran down my spine.

I scrolled back through some psychology websites without, I didn’t think, learning

much of direct relevance. Then it occurred to me that I did know, from my

conversation with Williamson, a place where some of the slow learners in Alberta had

gone. It was an instructional tier offered to struggling high school students in some

schools. Williamson seemed to have mixed feelings about it. Then again, I didn’t know

what that meant either. Williamson seemed to have mixed feelings about everything. I

typed in Knowledge and Employability (K & E) Classes and then, remembering the

name of the previous slow learner program my client had told me about, I added

“Integrated Occupational Program (IOP)” to the search too. I got several hits. I clicked

on the information manuals for both programs and briefly scrolled through them

looking for descriptions of the sorts of students they were intended for.29 Though I was

only skimming to get to the part about enrolment criteria, I couldn’t help but notice

that the manual for the old program, IOP, was much thicker, containing a lot more

advice about how to support these students. I wondered why, but I put that question

on the back burner.

29
Alberta Education, Information Manual for Knowledge and Employability, 41; and Alberta Education
Integrated Occupational Program: Manual for Administrators, Counsellors and Teachers: Interim 1989
(Edmonton: Crown in Right of Alberta, 1989), 3,
https://archive.org/stream/integrateoccupation89albe#page/14/mode/2up.
 32

Both manuals were pretty consistent with what the psychology books had said

about slow learners as well as what Williamson had told me. The recommended

populations for both K & E, and IOP before it, were supposed to have low average IQs,

show up as behind grade level in their skills and grades in their core subjects, be more

adept at concrete learning, and be at risk of not being able to complete the regular

high school diploma.

I selected the third item down called ‘Accountability Pillar Results for Annual

Education Results Report’ because I wanted to know who was accountable for these

classes. 30 I always wanted to know who was accountable. I was rewarded with a

complex document showing various statistics about student achievement, and about

parent and student perceptions about the general quality of education in the province.

“Dead end,” I thought. It wasn’t telling me anything about K & E or slow learners. I

was about to close the site when I saw the phrase ‘high school completion rate’. This

seemed important, but why? I remembered Williamson griping that the students who

took this level of classes left school with a credential called the K & E certificate, a

credential widely seen as less valuable than the Alberta High School Diploma. 31 Surely

if there were even half as many slow learners around as the previous data claimed,

and they really did have as tough of a time in school as the information about the

categories suggested, these K & E classes would be an inevitable path for many of

them. The completion results would surely show a significant minority of Alberta’s

students earning the K & E certificate instead of the High School diploma. I started to

look at the stats on this. Now that I was in the right section they were easy to find, but

not so easy to believe. In 2009, 30,689 students completed high school in three years

30
Alberta Education, Accountability Pillar Results for Annual Education Results Report (AERR)
(Edmonton: Alberta Education, 2008, 2009, 2010).
31
Alberta Education, Report on Consultation for Policy Change (Edmonton: Alberta Education, 2004),
10.
 33

having earned a high school diploma; 305 completed earning a K & E certificate of

achievement. In 2008, 30,500 students completed high school with the diploma, 266

completed with the certificate in the same year. In 2007, 30,105 diplomas, 255

certificates.32 I rubbed my eyes and looked again, I thought maybe I’d missed a zero. If

up to eighteen percent of students were slow learners why were less than one percent

of students completing high school with the credential intended for slow learners?

“Maybe the high school diploma route isn’t so bad for them,” I thought. “Maybe

most of the slow learners manage to scrape through at the higher instructional level.”

But what if they didn’t? I looked at the dropout rates for the same five years. For

several years running, a quarter of the year’s cohort of potential graduates had not

completed high school within the three expected years; completion rates rose a little to

eighty percent when another two years beyond the expected three were added. 33 I

wondered how many of the dropouts were slow learners? “How do students get lost?” I

pondered for a second. I realized one of the main ways was by not completing school.

The mystery was coming into focus for me. I felt all tingly; the hairs on the back of my

neck were standing at attention.

My tingly feeling was suddenly joined by a duller and more menacing sensation,

a large arm encircling my throat. So eager had I been to begin my investigation, put

this case to bed nice and early, I hadn’t taken a wary enough look at my foul neighbor

at the next computer station and now he was choking me from behind. The full force

of the rotting stench hit me with the last breath I was able to take before he cinched

my throat shut. As massive, fleshy arms tightened around me, I brought my feet up to

my desk and pushed backwards with all my strength. The desk thudded against the

wall, giving me what I thought was good leverage for dislodging my assailant, but he

32
Alberta Education, Accountability Pillar Reports, 2008, 2009, 2010.
33
Ibid., p. 4.
 34

easily absorbed the force and the chokehold just got tighter. My peripheral vision

beheld a close-up view of a pallid, shapeless face and a staring eye, black as an eight

ball. I wrenched to one side, and the hold just got tighter. I looked to the entrance of

the library; the ancient guard was asleep in his chair. Straining, I gripped my

assailant’s thumb and upper wrist with both hands and tried to wrench it backwards

to break his grip. His skin felt cold, and a large pulpy wad of it tore off and skidded

across the cubicle. It came to rest on the upper left corner of the computer keyboard,

concealing the escape key. In the reflection on the monitor, I saw his wrist glowing

faintly pink in the spot I attacked, I guessed maybe there might be a beating heart

under all that, but he was otherwise unharmed and constricting my neck more tightly

than ever. A brightly colored figure flickered in and out of my range of vision but I

wasn’t sure if it was real. Someone had a problem with me investigating this category –

I wondered who? My indignation at the story arriving at this point was short-lived as

everything went black.

I was in a lineup outside a factory, waiting to be measured. A machine was doing

the measuring. Once I was measured it would put me in a box. Depending on which box

I was in, the machine would pick me up and push me through one of five chutes and

down one of five tracks for further assembly. It was a big factory and the chutes were

too small to enable a long look down the lines. Beyond the first few stations, I couldn’t

see where any of the tracks were leading. I arrived at the machine. A pair of

mechanized arms with a crudely marked stick measured my height and width. A box

was selected from a shelf overhead and lowered to the ground. I lay down, curled in the

box. My arm stuck out. Instead of lifting my box onto the shelf as it had with the others,

the mechanized arm tried to push my arm back down into the box, but it still stuck out.
 35

A mechanized arm held my human arm. A mechanized arm drew a line across my

human arm. A mechanized arm held a dull saw, I wriggled my human arm to escape.

“Mr. Hunter!” “Mr. Hunter!” Williamson was shaking my arm trying to rouse me

awake. I was in a coffee room inside what was likely the private staff area of the

library, laid out on a threadbare couch. Someone had loosened my tie and collar and

someone had, apparently, poured a couple of teaspoons of drool into the lapel pocket

of my blazer. Williamson told me that a little girl who had wandered away from her

mom had reported to her mother that a man was being attacked by some kind of

monster at the back of the library. She, I realized, was the brightly colored blur I’d

seen; at least I’d kicked up enough of a fuss to attract her attention. Though not

entirely comprehending her, her mom had roused the security guard from his slumber

to check out whatever her daughter had thought she’d seen. Before the guard got to

me, my assailant had apparently escaped undetected. I’d been found unconscious at

the cubicle, but they assumed the little girl, whom I owed my life, had only imagined

the monster. The staff, used to people falling asleep in the library, had assumed I had

a temporary ailment brought on by recreational overindulgence or professional

overwork, and that I needed no medical intervention except for rest. Perhaps due to

my professional appearance, in lieu of calling the authorities, they had kindly moved

me to this couch to sleep off whatever I had. Williamson’s business card had fallen out

of my pocket, so they called him to retrieve me. I was really out of it. The diabolically

cold weather, the early morning, the educational research and the apparent zombie

had all conspired to put me out for several hours. It was now four o’clock.

I had a glass of water and assured the staff I was ok. Williamson asked me what

had happened, but instead of explaining it right there, I asked him to take me

somewhere licensed and seedy, where our conversation would not be overheard by
 36

interested parties. It wasn’t hard to find such a place. On the short but chilly walk

there, my wet lapel pocket froze, and I felt a sliver of ice near my heart.

A few patrons glanced up at us with tired hostility, and glanced down again into

their beer. We had to step lightly over several spots of uneven tile, found two stable

barstools that were unoccupied and sat. An indifferent server wiped the scratched

table top, leaving a sheen of grease from her cloth, and then she vanished into thin

air, like the slow learners I was looking for. I counted nine dead flies in the lamp

overhead. Williamson looked uncomfortable. This place was perfect. As we waited for

the waitress to return, I told Williamson how I’d been attacked. His face assumed a

distressed countenance and he asked for more details. I told him he’d need a drink to

help him absorb the news and got up to order from the bar. He reluctantly agreed but

asked me if I thought it was wise to be drinking after losing consciousness like I had. I

told him I get knocked out often and that this was my standard treatment.

I had a shot of something that burned pleasingly at the bar and returned to the

table with a pint for each of us. I took a long swallow and told him what I’d learned

about the case so far. I told him I thought I was off to a good start before being

attacked. He fidgeted. Then I told him about how my assailant resembled nothing so

much as a zombie. He stopped fidgeting and began shaking. I described my objections

to my own perception of this, “It doesn’t belong. Sure, I often experience this world as

a place gone all wrong, but that’s just being realistic. There’s no room in my thinking

for monster stories.”

Williamson’s face reddened and he glared at me. “I told you this was dangerous

territory and to look into a research method. I said it was very important. You ignored

me. Look where that left you, senseless in a library. That zombie–like thing did you a
 37

favor; you were in too deep too soon. Who knows, maybe it was even trying to warn

you about something.”

“I think I did well,” I protested. “I confirmed how slow learner is defined, at least

psychologically, and more about the problems with the category that you were trying

to explain to me. I saw how few students complete the K & E Certificate provincially.”

Remembering himself, Williamson took a deep breath and settled down. “I am

surprised the completion rate is that low,” he admitted. “But that just helps confirm

my suspicions that a lot of slow learners are disappearing. It doesn’t really explain

why. And you tipped someone off about our investigation and let them get the drop on

you. You’ve got to be more careful. A dead shamus isn’t much use to me.”

He took another copy of his business card out of his wallet. I wondered if he was

secretly excited to finally have someone to hand them to. He wrote a name and

address down on the back of it and handed me the card. He said he’d met a teacher at

a session at a conference that might have some insider knowledge of where the slow

learners had gone. Her name was Colleen Birdseye. He gave me an address to look her

up. He said that talking to her would probably be a safer lead to follow up while I got

my bearings on the case. He told me to call him when I’d learned ‘something useful’

and then got up to leave, leaving a half-empty pint behind him.

The waitress returned from oblivion and I asked her for a menu. My ordeal had

left me hungry. I ordered a club sandwich that I hoped wouldn’t be too vile and

another beer to sit on its shoulders and hold it down just in case.34 Soon I’d have to

trek back to the Buick. I might even get to try out my technique of scraping ice off the

34
See Raymond Chandler, The Lady in the Lake, in The Raymond Chandler Omnibus (New York: Alfred
A. Knopf, 1964), Project Gutenberg Canada, 9. http://www.gutenberg.ca/ebooks/chandlerr-
ladyinthelake/chandlerr-ladyinthelake-00-h.html. The personification about the sandwich is borrowed
from this source.
 38

windshield with an almost maxed out credit card. I looked at the flies in the lamp

again, sleeping the big sleep,35 basking in the warm white light. Lucky devils.

35
See Raymond Chandler, The Big Sleep. New York: First Vintage Crime / Black Lizard Edition,
1992), 230.
 39

IV

I drove to the address on the card. It was six blocks off the main drag in a partially

hidden little strip that also contained a pawn shop and a used books and trading

cards store. I had to turn hard when I finally spotted the place out of the corner of my

eye, and the Buick slid on the ice for a minute before it found its traction again and

took me in. I parked and entered a gym. I’m six feet when not slouching, and solid

enough too, but the muscle-bound gargoyle at the reception desk looked to have eighty

pounds on me. Beside him, the computer, the phone, and the desk all looked like toy

versions of themselves designed for toddlers already being trained for the high power

business world. Still, he’d been domesticated for customer service, and when I asked if

I could just observe the class for a while, being interested in maybe signing myself up

as a student, he assented with a friendly smile. I thought if I asked if he could crush

my head for me too he would have agreed with equal sociability.

The gym smelled of seven brands of fermenting sweat. On a mat to the right

was a fit, diminutive girl with dark hair restrained by a functional ponytail. She was

wearing Thai boxing shorts and a t-shirt that read, “If you had any questions in the

academy you had to wrestle Plato.” She was taking turns practising a sparring move

with a much larger man. It involved a hip throw followed up with an arm wrenching

submission hold. She executed her turns with the ease of putting on a coat, but her

partner was less graceful. She had to coach him through every turn. I could see a hint

of tightly controlled aggression in her throws, despite her patience with her partner. I

was getting a little dizzy watching all the flipping when, mercifully, they took a break.

Her gym bag, which she now approached to get some water, was along the main

wall near where I was watching from. I went over to her.

“Looks like your partner is a pretty slow learner,” I remarked.

 40

“We’re all slow learners at something,” she replied. “Besides he’s new.”

“Still, he’s twice your size and you can’t weigh much more than a buck-ten. And

you’re a girl. What a loser.”

“This stuff isn’t so easy to pick up on at first,” she said.

“I bet I could do better,” I challenged. By then her partner had moved on to the

heavy bags, gloved up, and looked to be investing much thought in the simple

combinations he was a-rhythmically throwing. She brought me out to the mat and

challenged me to attempt the same throw on her. A good right hook and a few dirtier

moves were more my style, but I’d grappled my share too, and expected little

resistance as I attempted the toss. Suddenly, though, I was trying to hoist a five-foot

two hunk of lead. Next, I was seeing an exit sign upside down, thudding onto my back,

and feeling my arm straightened and bent slowly back the wrong way. Decorum

demanded I should tap her to submit at this point, but I had one more shot left. “Did

K & E make you this tough?” I gasped.

Confused, she released her grip. I sat up and rubbed my arm. I explained how

Williamson, whose name seemed to register on her, had sent me to her to find out if

she’d seen the slow learners. She agreed to meet me for coffee when the class was

over. For the next twenty minutes, she kicked some focus pads with a trainer, each

strike bursting like a firecracker, and I stood along the wall and rubbed my arm some

more.

I followed her to a chain coffee shop back along the main drag. We milled

through the ordering line obtaining a milk and a coffee respectively. I offered to buy

her beverage but before I could insist she flipped me a gold-colored coin with a bird on

it. We found a table. Looking a little less Spartan with an oversize hooded sweatshirt

and a friendly smile on, I realized she was rather pretty. I could also read from her
 41

eyes that she beheld me in only professional curiosity, which was fine with me. I didn’t

want any distractions on this case. I wanted out of this city.

“You look pretty strong,” she remarked. “I didn’t expect you to be that easy to

throw.”

“Well, you took me by surprise,” I had to admit. “And besides, I’m always

tougher in the last reel.” Wearying already of this small talk, I asked what she knew

about where the slow learners might be.

“Right here, maybe,” she said with just a hint of irony. “They thought I was a

slow learner when I was in school. 36 I was placed in the Integrated Occupation

Program when I was in junior high school. This was years ago when it first came into

the Alberta Education system.”

If it weren’t for the way she said it, I would have said Williamson had found

me the perfect informant, a self-described slow learner. She’d been in the programs.

Maybe she’d seen some other slow learners along the way. I tried to engage her in talk

of her own experiences a little, to tease some more information out of her. “I don’t get

it. You don’t seem that slow to me. How could that be? How did you end up there?”

“I … uh … couldn’t read. I basically got through elementary school without

being able to read. Just faking my way through it. Then I came to Calgary in grade

seven and they tested me and found I had a grade one-ish reading level. I could pick

things up if I had to, but my comprehension was really low. I had a huge gap in my

36
Aside from some fictionalization to locate them as characters in the narrative, the opinions given and
experiences described by teachers, students, administrators, and curriculum leaders are from my
interviewees and any character located in a realistic role in education is based on an actual interviewee. I
interviewed eight teachers, administrators or curriculum leaders, and four students. For the character
named Colleen Birdseye, as well as the later interviews with the group of students, I took the quotations
directly from transcripts of our audio recorded conversations. For all other interviewees, the quotations
were reassembled based on my notes of our conversations. In all cases the quotations were verified with
these sources before being used in this dissertation. Samples of the consent and assent forms interviewees
(as well as the parents of the students) were asked to sign are provided in Appendix B.
 42

learning. And they did tons of testing and then they threw me in IOP. They thought

that was the best place for me. And then the IOP people said ‘she’s not IOP’ so they

threw me in gifted education. And then they finally gave up on me.”

“You mean they finally just let you be? Do you mean things got better?”

“No. I mean I dropped out. I didn’t finish high school. All my learning, I did

as an adult. I think that’s what happens with a lot of our kids.” I didn’t know who the

‘our’ were. I assumed it was all the teachers who worked with slow learners. She

continued, “The shuffling around and the stigma that goes with K & E, I mean that

was with IOP too. If you were in IOP you were one of those kids. The stigma that goes

with that program prevents kids that should be in there from going in there.”

“But you’re a teacher now, and that takes a degree, doesn’t it? How did you

get back into the school system?” As well as thinking a story like this might help me

track down slow learners or at least understand how students got called slow learners,

I was genuinely curious.

“Well, I was working in a mechanics shop. That was what I was going to be.

That was my plan, so I didn’t think dropping out of high school would have a huge

impact on going to SAIT or my apprenticeship.37 So that was what I was going to do

but I had a really bad injury on the job – wheelchair and everything, so I couldn’t do

the job anymore. I could now obviously, but I couldn’t physically pick anything up

then. I was like, ok what am I going to do with my life? So, I went to Mount Royal

College as a mature student and failed miserably a few times, but back then that

college was really good with students with learning gaps and they worked with me,

37
See SAIT Polytechnic, “About SAIT,” SAIT Polytechnic, accessed November 30, 2013,
http://www.sait.ca/about-sait.php. Southern Alberta Institute of Technology is polytechnic post-
secondary institute that offers apprenticeship training in most of Alberta’s skilled trades as well as a range
of other technology focused degree and diploma programs.
 43

and I finally started to see success at school. That was, let’s see my daughter was two

then, so I would have been twenty-two. And I went from there. I just got better as a

student as the years went on.”

“Do you think your experiences are pretty typical? Are lots of bright kids with

learning issues like you had misplaced in K & E?” I realized I was asking my questions

two at a time now, but I was excited. I was in the middle of the tempest of category

confusion that I’d been learning about. Williamson had found me a good informant.

Colleen Birdseye took a sip of her milk. “Well that’s always a big argument for

not placing in K & E. A K & E student is not a learning disabled student. There’s this

distinct higher / lower hierarchy between LD and K & E and I think it does a few

injustices.”

I discerned that LD probably stood for ‘learning disabled’ as Colleen Birdseye

continued to explain the injustices of the hierarchy. “One, it assumes that a student

who is at a K & E level can’t have a LD because they aren’t smart enough, which is

completely false. Most of the kids I’ve taught in K & E have learning disabilities as

well. And, it again perpetuates that idea that if they’re in K & E they can’t do anything

else. Whereas if you’re just coded with a learning disability, you’re capable of doing

everything as long as you have the right accommodations.”

Williamson had mentioned accommodations to me as well but I forgot what

they were so I asked. Colleen Birdseye explained that they were things like providing

students with extra time on tests, access to a staff member or technology to read tests

out loud, and / or a scribe to record their writing for them. These things were

supposed to make things fairer for students with disabilities, but not change the

difficulty of the tests or assignments on a conceptual level. I thought for a second this

was a pretty sweet deal for the disabled kids. But then I wondered why there was a
 44

whole institutional process just for qualifying for these things. I’d known some keen-

eyed P.I.’s who avoided reading like it was consumption, and almost all my colleagues

dictated their letters to a secretary; if they could afford one. Not me, I could barely

keep myself on the payroll so I did my own clerical work. That, and I found the rhythm

of pounding on the computer keys relaxing’; like a little army of speed bags to bip - bip

with my fingers. As a P.I. who didn’t use those so-called accommodations then, I was

in the minority. As for time, we billed by the day, extra time was always better, at least

until the client ran out of money or patience. That was just how we did it. So this

concept of accommodation was foreign to me. As I considered this, I felt a teacher’s

eyes on me and realized my mind was wandering. I apologized, and said it had been a

long day and pleaded that my informant continue explaining her concerns. After a

minute, she did.

“My issue is this hierarchy between seeing a better person and a not-as-good

person. There’s certainly issues with being learning disabled too, but with K & E it’s

often viewed as kids that aren’t worth putting the effort into.”

“Sounds like you think that it isn’t strictly slow learners who end up being

placed in K & E classes,” I paraphrased, just to keep the conversation going. Then I

came up with another question. “Does the concept of slow learner affect your work in

any way?”

“The term itself? It doesn’t impact me, I wouldn’t say. It does impact people.

When I have a K & E student, I have to be aware they’re a K & E student, but at the

same time I run a classroom that is diversified anyways, personalized anyways.

Actually personalized, not just the word personalized because it’s trendy. I mean I’ve

taught classes – I had one class that was a 30-4, 30-2, and 30-1 class and, honestly, I
 45

loved it.38 It didn’t matter if it was kids in 30-4 or 30-1, they all needed personalization

for their learning.”

I had no idea what all the levels she was reeling off meant; it was like alphabet

soup, but with numbers, to me. But I thought asking her to clarify might have been a

further distraction. With all this confusion of definitions and talk of personalization, I

was already worried she was being kind of cagey about whether or not she’d seen the

slow learners recently. Maybe Williamson was wrong in his recommendation, and I

had followed him by being wrong in my initial impression that this was a good

informant. It sounded like she didn’t even believe in the category. It was time for a

blunt question to see. “Is there such a thing as slow learners?” I asked.

“I did presentations and stuff at teachers’ convention on K & E learners. ‘The

K & E Learner’ and that kind of thing. One of the big things that I always tried to focus

on was what K & E is now; and, if people really want to teach it, this is what they need

to keep in mind, it is complex learners you end up working with. You could have a

gifted kid in a K & E class who has decided to swear at the teachers way too many

times or hasn’t handed stuff in, so they assume they don’t understand. Being aware of

that when you’re teaching and giving the kids a chance is what matters.”

That wasn’t a straight answer either. This was all very interesting, but I wasn’t

sure it was much use in my search for the slow learners. It seemed every time I

brought up some kind of problem related to teaching slow learners, something that

might help me track them down, she acknowledged it, sure, but then got quickly back

to talking about the teaching practices she thought were good for slow learners and

maybe every student. Was she being cagey, or did she just think it had more to do

38
Alberta Education, Provincially Authorized Senior High School Courses. 1, 6. The provincial English
Language Arts curriculum is tiered into a more academic grade 12 English course, 30-1, a less academic
course 30-2, and the K & E level 30-4.
 46

with teaching? I tried to use this teaching idea to challenge her sense of pride to

loosen things up. “Does it affect how you’re perceived as a teacher, working with K & E

students?”

“Yes, definitely. The most obvious was when my school district closed down two

K & E schools, one of which I was teaching at. Coming out of the K & E schools that

got closed down, you were ‘must place’ in new schools. Coming from K & E, you’re

seen as ‘less than’ as a teacher. In general, you’re not seen as a capable teacher of so-

called ‘regular kids’, so definitely it changes the perception.”

Something bothered me about her use of the phrase ‘K & E School’. I made a

mental note to think more about it and follow it up if needed, but I wanted to maintain

the momentum of the conversation, so I said something agreeable instead of

questioning her on this. “Yeah, Williamson says even though he’s been to grad school,

he thinks people still talk to him slower because he’s in special education.” This

wasn’t strictly speaking true but it seemed like something Williamson might say.

She laughed. It was a nice laugh; all amusement, no malice. I tended to prefer a

little malice. “Yes, exactly, they assume ‘you’re not as smart as us’. And even teaching

style – I tend to teach in an inquiry style of learning, and very art-based, and a lot of

art brought into the classroom. And that’s seen as fluff learning. ‘You’re a K & E

teacher and you don’t understand how to teach.’ Well, yeah, I do actually.”

I thought I caught an edge to her voice – that I had her for a minute – but

she’d stated this all so matter of factly, no derision. And there she was talking about

teaching style again. Why did teaching style matter so much? What tack to try next?

Maybe if I kept working the critical angle I could get her mad, and get her to point the

finger at someone or some problem instead of all this talk of teaching styles. I

remembered what I had read about the K & E completion rates. “If you go with a strict
 47

IQ level, maybe 10 to 15 percent of students would have the IQ levels of K & E

students,” I began, “but only one percent or less of students graduate with the K & E

certificate. Why?”

“I think it goes back to that stigma. Back when I worked in the one of the K &

E schools before they shut them down, my daughter was at a junior high here in

Calgary. She was in at the guidance office because she was in trouble for mouthing off

or something. And she was told – and this counselor didn’t know where I taught – she

was told if this behavior keeps up you will be in one of those schools taking K & E and

you won’t graduate. From a guidance counselor. When it’s coming from that level, and

it’s not only parents who see it as a bad thing to get a K & E certificate, but other staff

members see it as well, and kids don’t want to do it. So you end up with kids who go

into -2 levels and aren’t able to do it and end up dropping out, maybe they end up

taking the - 2 level three times and are seen as behavior problems for not handing in

their work. But it’s never seen as ‘if they were in K & E they could experience some

success.’”

Number soup again. I could only assume that this “-2’ was the next level up

from K & E. “Does there have to be a K & E certificate?” I asked. I was thinking maybe

if there was no certificate, the system would have no choice but to make more room for

slow learners in the diploma route. Were the slow learners hiding, or being hidden, in

this obscure series of classes?

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s a hard call,” she said after a pause. “I don’t

even know if a high school diploma is even a necessary document. These kids, any

kids, here’s what they’ve been able to do. A transcript will show these are the courses

they’ve had successes in. At the end of the day, does it matter if they get a piece of

paper signifying graduation too? I do think it’s important if they have a high school
 48

diploma that they continue to have a K & E certificate or some kind of completion

certificate so these students that struggle in the so-called regular program are seeing

an alternative with an end in sight. But I really don’t think either the certificate or

diploma should be there. This is what they’re capable of doing, these are the courses

they’ve shown success in. The transcripts themselves are enough information for

colleges and universities and employers to decide if students qualify.”

This conversation was taking on the pattern of an epic film. It started with a

battle, offered a bit of hope, and then a dash of disappointment, and now here I was

getting excited again about what she was telling me. School closures, bad stigma, and

the idea of no diploma, I was feeling that same thrill of danger I began to feel in the

library. It was more than the stories giving me this sense, I realized. I felt as though I

was being watched. I looked around. A shady figure in a trench coat was watching me

through the window of the coffee shop. Noticing me noticing him, he began to retreat

up the road. My conversation with Colleen Birdseye was important, but if I could catch

this guy, I thought, it might break the case wide open. If I could find out who’d been

out to get me ever since I typed ‘slow learner’ into the library catalogue, then maybe I

could find out if someone was out to get slow learners – not only letting them fall

through the cracks, but pushing them through. In twenty seconds I explained I had

just realized I was late for another appointment, apologized for cutting this session

short, and ran out of the coffee shop.

It was snowing lightly again when I got outside, like salt falling from a

gummed-up shaker. Three streetlights up, half a block ahead, I saw that I hadn’t lost

him. The trench-coated figure was pacing efficiently up the street. Looking down for a

second at his footprints in the skiff of snow that covered the sidewalk, I noted with

surprise that they looked perfectly linear and every step appeared to cover exactly the
 49

same amount of distance. For several blocks, up streets, around corners, I strode to

catch up, finding it hard to match the pace without breaking into a conspicuous

sprint. For a while I remembered myself, taking in the road numbers, mailboxes, weird

buildings, any other mental bread crumbs I might leave to find my way back. It grew

too difficult as I strained to keep up. Just as I started to close the distance between

us, I skidded on some ice on the sidewalk, and fell on my backside and elbow.

Cursing, I rose to my feet and looked for my quarry. He had escaped into the shadows

as I was falling. I looked around – I had lost my bearings too.

With a few wrong turns, I made my way back to the coffee shop, walking away

from the dimly lit sub-streets towards the bright traffic lights and billboards of the

main drag. Colleen Birdseye’s car was gone. I heard a rattling in my shoe, and for a

second I imagined my little toe had broken off in the cold, until reason took over and I

understood a pebble had probably found its way in during my failed pursuit. I reached

my car, scraped the window with the almost maxed out credit card, and drove to my

hotel. I staggered wearily past a dozing desk clerk and down the hall. Fumbling, and

then finally inserting the key card correctly with frozen fingers, I made it into my

room. I got under all my blankets, still wearing a suit soiled with the dirt of three falls

during the day. I briefly pondered having a drink from the bottle in my suitcase before

exhaustion bested me, just like the library assailant, Williamson’s friend, and the

fleet-footed stalker had, and I fell asleep.

 50

The sun threw little daggers at me through the gaps in the dirty curtains. I

rolled over and looked at the clock. It was quarter to eight. My head hurt and I had a

kink in my neck, either from all the abuse I took the prior day or from sleeping in one

corpse-like position all night. I sat up. I felt sick but not as sick as I ought to, not as

sick as I would feel if I had a salaried job.39 I tripped over to the window on legs as stiff

as stilts. As I looked through the dirty glass with its breathtaking view of a trash bin

and narrow industrial road leading out to the ugly main drag, I realized I couldn’t take

any more of this on an empty stomach. I spied the adjacent neon sign of a breakfast

joint, its glow dulled by the winter sun. I called Williamson on his mobile phone and

told him I had some questions and asked if we could meet for breakfast.

“I’m glad you called,” he said. “I’m going to a district in-service for people who

work in the same position as me later this morning and I want you to come along. If

you like, we could meet first for your breakfast.”

The last sentence came out with a bit of a clip to it, implying maybe he was an

earlier riser, and maybe more determined in this way, than the heroic Hunter he’d

hired to look for slow learners. Some payback for yesterday’s wisecracks, maybe. It

was a worthless consideration in my trade. It’s not how early in the day you look that

catches the worm; it’s knowing where to look. I let him keep that one anyways. I had a

more important question. “What the hell is an in-service?” I demanded.

“It’s a gathering of teachers for professional development,” Williamson replied.

I allowed my silence to speak to how satisfied I was with his answer.

“An in-service is when a school district gets teachers together to learn more

about things like resources for courses they are teaching, teaching strategies, or in my

39
Raymond Chandler, Farewell My Lovely (New York: Ballantine, 1940), 44. This line is borrowed from
Chandler.
 51

case, how best to work with certain kinds of students. I was surprised to see that

today’s was about slow learners, so I made sure I signed up and thought you should

come along too. Maybe we can pretend you’re my student teacher.”

I had a pretty good idea what a student teacher was so I didn’t need to ask

about this, but I still wasn’t sure if I needed to go. “Are there going to be any slow

learning students there?” I asked.

“Well if you heard some of the questions people ask …” Williamson began the

joke before he could catch himself, making the same lapse in correctness by using

‘slow learner’ as an insult that he’d scolded me for yesterday. From what I could

observe from talking to him, I figured other teachers probably thought he was the slow

learner at such events. Then he started over, pretending he’d said nothing. “No

students. But it will be a good chance to learn more about the category, and that

might help you.”

“I already learned about the category, at the library, remember?”

“Educational psychology is an evolving field.” He was about to launch into an

explanation but doubled back. “I just think it would be helpful if you came along,

unless you had somewhere else to investigate right away this morning that can’t wait.”

I didn’t want to admit this, but in truth I hadn’t figured out where to begin the

day’s work yet. I realized talking some more about the case with Williamson might give

me some idea. “I was going to look into some leads, but I can probably put them off for

a bit,” I offered. My stomach growled. “Let’s figure the rest out over breakfast.” I gave

him the address of the joint across from my window.

I must have been pretty close to Williamson’s school because he told me he’d

see me in fifteen minutes. That meant I needed to put some haste on getting ready. I

had a quick shower and shave, and changed into the only other suit I’d brought along.
 52

I exited the hotel through the main lobby. I got out the almost maxed-out credit card,

and with fingers already numbing, scraped out a sightline the size of my head on the

windshield of the Buick. I started it up and drove fifty feet to the restaurant. In the

short time all this took, I caught a lyric from a down-tempo song that I couldn’t tell if

it was a modern hip hop song or an old blues number. A husky voice growled

suggestively, “Fast ain’t always better than slow, you know,”40 and I briefly wondered if

I was hearing things before shutting off the ignition and entering the restaurant. I was

already chilled and welcomed the heat.

The cook, the waitress and I made three, a crowd. I sat down, and the waitress

rambled over with a menu. I ordered black coffee, bacon, toast and a four-egg omelet

with extra peppers to kill anything untoward that might be lurking in the grease. I

snatched an abandoned section of a newspaper from the table next to me. I read:

“Alberta’s Minister of Education refers to self as slow learner.”41

Apparently while being grilled in the legislature by opposition member Harry

Chase about the use of the multiple choice format for provincial standardized exams,

40
Buck 65, “50 Gallon Drum” from Talking Honky Blues, Warner Brothers, 2003, MP3 file downloaded
May 5, 2012 iTunes.
41
This event was actually described on Alberta Teachers’ Association website:

Harry Chase (LIB—Calgary-Varsity): “Because of my inability to interpret educational

bafflegab, I have prepared a translation test to help the Minister of Education qualify and quantify
his responses from yesterday, upon which he will be graded, with his results published by the
Fraser Institute. HB pencil ready, Mr. Minister. Multiple-choice tests (a) assume that there’s only
one correct response, (b) emphasize the final product over process, (c) are easy and inexpensive
to mark, (d) any or all of the above. Letter only, please.”
Minister of Education Dave Hancock: “Mr. Speaker, being a slow learner, I missed the first part of the
question, so I can’t answer the (a), (b), (c), or (d) part.”
Mr. Chase: “Grade 12 students don’t have those options. (Emphasis added).

Alberta Teachers’ Association, “McQueen wonders why Hancock would “dumb down” diploma
examinations” Eye on the Legislature Alberta Teachers’Association. (October 29, 2009).
http://www.teachers.ab.ca/.News%20Room/EyeOnTheLegislature/Highlights%20from%
20the%20Assembly/2009/Fall2009/Pages/29-Oct-2009.aspx.
 53

in the ironic form of a multiple choice question, the minister had referred to himself as

a ‘slow learner’. I guess he was using some sarcasm of his own to suggest his

opponent’s questions were obscure. That was interesting. Williamson had said ‘slow

learner’ was hidden. In this case, it seemed right out in the open, more available, in

fact than other things he might have called himself to make the same point. I’m not

the most politically correct guy around, but even I realized that, for a variety of

reasons, no sensible politician would have chosen to call himself ‘retarded’ even if it

was to insult his opponent.

Williamson showed up looking disheveled already. The bit of alertness I caught

on the phone now seemed of the frazzled sort. A lock of his hair was sticking straight

up and he’d gotten off track buttoning his shirt. He was off by one and the unsettled

fabric stuck out like a fat finger in the middle of his chest. I made a point of telling

him he looked awful. He said he’d been up late again looking for slow learners in his

computer. He ordered some sort of fruit cocktail and toast, the cheapest thing on the

menu.

I had planned to tell Williamson about my interview with Colleen Birdseye and

my subsequent discovery that I was still being followed, but I hadn’t found anything I

could put into words yet to describe what these experiences had taught me about

where the slow learners were. And do-gooder that he was, I was worried if he got a

sense I was in too much danger, he’d simply terminate the case. I needed the money

too badly to let this happen. I asked him instead to tell me more about what the in-

service was about. The question hit him like a shot of caffeine and he perked up. He

told me that when the in-services were optional, he often preferred staying at the

school, but he’d read the agenda for the session on his email last night and was

surprised to discover his district was offering a session on the differences between
 54

supporting slow learners and supporting students with learning disabilities. He said it

was the first time he’d heard anything about slow learners from anyone in his school

district for quite a while and he knew he had to go to this one.

A question came to me then, not about what Colleen Birdseye had told me, but

about the informant herself. She had said she was labeled, or maybe mislabeled, as a

slow learner, but as an adult she seemed pretty unencumbered by any of this

classification business. How many students had he met that had transcended the

label as adults? I asked Williamson if he knew.

Instead of answering my question, he starting griping, again about the

Certificate of Achievement some of his slow learners end up graduating with instead of

the high school diploma, saying how unfair it was that his kids worked so hard but

only got a token sort of high school completion credential, one that wouldn’t get them

very far after high school. How it placed them at a disadvantage even after school was

over.

I’d heard this tune already and I challenged him, “So, what if some of your K &

E students, slow learners … whatever … graduate with a different credential, get

credits in different sorts of courses, what’s the big deal? If they can’t handle the

normal program isn’t that what should happen? Besides, I thought you told me if they

did well at this level they could always move back up to the regular program?” I

wanted to needle him a bit and hear how he’d react.

Williamson looked to be mustering his forces for another of his moralizing

salvos, but possibly remembering how I’d reacted last time he tried this, he regrouped

and asked a question instead. “You remember how I told you I used to do a lot of work

with the high school registered apprenticeship programs?”

I nodded. Where was he going with this?

 55

“Well, one time I was at the Apprenticeship and Industry Training Office. I

needed some more apprenticeship applications for my students and with the office

being so close to my school I found it easier to go there rather than ordering them to

be mailed out. There was a kid in front of me in line with his mom, a young man I

mean. Not a young man like a kid, a young man, like eighteen or nineteen.”

I loved it when Williamson lost control of his labels. He took a breath and

continued.

“Anyhow, I’d overheard as I was waiting behind them that the … son had just

graduated from high school, one of the vocational schools where they have K & E, the

lower tier only of regular education classes and shop classes.”

I realized from this description that was probably what Colleen Birdseye meant

by ‘K & E school’ when she said it. I had figured out what bothered me when she said

it was that it hadn’t made sense to me that a set of classes with such low enrolment

would necessitate a whole separate school. But if it got combined with classes from

the next level up as well as a lot of shop classes….

Williamson continued. “During high school, this student had been indentured

as an apprentice mechanic and worked a thousand hours in the trade. He was

registering for his first eight weeks of technical or college training, to complete the first

year of his apprenticeship. I could hear from the conversation that he started in K & E

classes, but that he had upgraded during high school, and by the time he’d left high

school he’d completed the regular high school diploma. His transcript showed he’d

enrolled in and passed the right level of math to be automatically accepted, providing

that he had been apprenticed, into the college part of his trades training.”

“So what was the problem?” I asked, still stymied as to the relevance of any of

this.
 56

“Well the guy at the desk said with K & E courses on his transcript and

considering where he went to school he should really write the entrance exam. You

know the exam that apprentices who don’t have the pre-requisite courses have to

write.”

“What? Hadn’t he already passed the pre-requisite math course?” I was

confused.

“This was the same question the … apprentice asked. Yeah, but the guy at the

counter said K & Es have a tough time with mechanics training and before wasting a

bunch of time and money in the program he should just write the exam to see.”

“To see what?”

“To see if he could handle the coursework for the program he was enrolling in, I

guess.”

“So, what happened?”

“The apprentice and his mom kept asking if he really had to write the exam or if

he could just register in the courses. After listening for a while, I poked my nose in

and, as quietly as I could because I still needed my forms, told the apprentice and his

mom that I was sure he had all the prerequisites based on what I’d heard, and that

they should insist on going ahead and enrolling in the college program, without

writing the entrance exam.”

“Did the guy at the counter give in?”

“Apparently it was getting close to his break time or something, and this other

worker told the guy she’d take over and processed the application. He kind of

shrugged and went on break. After they were done, she handled my request too, and

when I couldn’t help but comment on the strangeness of the situation that just played
 57

out in front of me she told me that her co-worker wasn’t wrong. Students from K & E,

in their experience, do have a rough time she said.”

“Is that true?”

“It could be. I’ve heard trade school is much harder than people tend to think.

Lots of people probably flunk out. Maybe this one would have had trouble too, but he

had the pre-requisite.”

“Would you have done more if the guy at the counter dug his heels in?”

“I don’t know. I needed the help of the Apprenticeship Board for a lot of things

at the time and it was important to me to have a healthy relationship with them. I had

a lot of students in the apprenticeship program.”

The waitress came by to refill our coffee. Williamson held out his fruit bowl

instead of his cup. He really was a mess. He mentioned a few more things I should

consider about the case but nothing seemed to me to connect that well with what I’d

experienced so far. He then glanced at his watch and saw it was time to leave for the

in-service. Williamson picked up the tab, and I followed him in the Buick to the site

where the in-service was being held. It was a short drive. I felt the first shot of warm

air from the heater enter the frigid interior of the Buick just as I was turning the

ignition off in the parking lot of our destination.

 58

VI

I felt the welcome pain of the heat thawing my already frozen face and hands as we

entered. The sessions were being held at an old elementary school that had been

renovated into a center for consultants, psychologists, supervisors, and clerical staff.

Peering in the rooms on the way in, I noticed all the little desks had been replaced by

adult-sized tables suitable for the new occupants of the building, but when I stopped

by the washroom I observed the toilets were still at a height meant for five-to-nine year

olds. Various professionals milled about. Williamson and I made our way to the room

the session was being held in. Williamson introduced me as his student teacher to the

facilitator, a smiling blond wearing a dark skirt and light blue blazer. She glanced at

me quizzically for a moment, I wondered if she thought I looked a little too old for that

role or if something else was at work, but then she welcomed me in. I introduced

myself as D.B. Hoffa, my mind suddenly unable to retrieve first or last names that

didn’t belong to missing persons. There was a table of refreshments in the, room and

even though I just ate I was already hungry again. I blamed it on the cold and the

beatings. I grabbed a Danish which was good and a cup of coffee which wasn’t.

Williamson bypassed the table altogether and we both sat down. I felt overdressed

amidst this clique of business casual professionals, but hoped that they would

consider my suit, which wasn’t in great shape, but was the only suit in the room,

evidence only of an overly eager student teacher.

The speaker who had greeted us now introduced herself to the larger group as a

school psychologist and, after a few opening remarks, turned on a Power Point slide

show presentation. She pleasantly went through the same sorts of information about

slow learners and students with learning disabilities that I had been reading about the

day before. I was reminded how learning disabled students were considered to have
 59

average to above average intelligence, with discrete impairments in areas unrelated to

reasoning, and slow learners were thought to be globally low average in their

intelligence. I was told that intelligence scores tended not to fluctuate much over time

and that learning disabilities, though not diagnosed through physical exams or blood

tests, were genetic, neurobiological deficits. Williamson whispered to me. “I’ve taught

two students whose IQs, when they were tested in elementary school, came out low

average go on to take Advanced Placement physics in high school and do fine in the

course. I have another student whose IQ was borderline when they tested her. She’s

just finished writing a fantasy novel.” I considered this.

A teacher on the other side of the room, cozily dressed in a sweater that bore

his school’s logo, asked the speaker to elaborate on how large the gaps between the

specific areas of weakness and global intelligence had to be to diagnose learning

disability. She replied there was some leeway for professional judgment, but the

general guideline for diagnosing a student with a learning disability was that the

standardized measure of academic achievement in a skill such as math or reading

should be at least two standard deviations from where their overall IQ was.42

The speaker then surprised us by admitting that slow learners might

sometimes demonstrate higher scores than learning disabled students on parts of an

IQ test. They might score, average or even higher than average in areas including

processing speed and word reading but never, by definition, in reasoning. That was

interesting. If I understood the concept of ‘processing speed’ correctly, that meant one

could literally ‘think fast’ but still be a slow learner. I wondered how it got decided that

some of the tasks on IQ tests were considered to be tests of reasoning while others

were not. My mind drifted off to something I’d learned about a long time ago, the cult

42
Task Force on DSM IV, Diagnostic Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth edition text
revision (Washington: American Psychiatric Association, 2000), 51.
 60

of reason ceremonies during the French Revolution during which reason itself was

venerated in quasi-religious ritual, as a Supreme Being.43 That seemed to come out of

nowhere, so when I heard myself think it I bit my tongue to make myself focus on the

speaker.

The psychologist then shifted gears from explaining these categorical

definitions to describing how she encountered them in diagnostic practice. She

admitted that she was always relieved to be able to diagnose a learning disability

rather than a slow learner profile in a student, because the former label was less

demeaning and resulted in more funded services for the student. She went on to

describe a document called an Individual Support Plan. Whereas students with

diagnosed disabilities legally required Individualized Program Plans (IPPs) spelling out

their diagnoses, required supports, and developmental goals related to their

disabilities. Individual Support Plans, on the other hand, were optional, informal

documents that suggested special strategies and accommodations for non-disabled

students who nevertheless required significant departures from traditional instruction

and assessment methods.44 She recommended that any slow learners in a school who

appeared to struggle with instruction and require more attention be placed on

Individual Support Plans. This distinction and these acronyms were all quite strange

to me. A course of alphabet soup after one of number soup from yesterday.

In a whisper, I asked Williamson if he followed this process at his school and he

nodded. I could tell from his eyes he was thinking of another question. He finally

blurted out, not to me but to the speaker, “When a student tests as a slow learner,

how do you communicate this data in a way that doesn’t suggest they are of lesser

43
William Doyle, The Oxford History of the French Revolution ? (New York: Oxford University Press,
2002), 238.
44
Alberta Education, Focusing on Success Teaching Students with Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity
Disorder ? (Edmonton: Government of Alberta, 2006), 14, 94.
 61

value than other students, like so-called ‘normal’ students or students with learning

disabilities but average intelligence?”

The speaker was confused. “Communicate … to whom. To parents?”

Williamson said, “To everyone.” Then he went on. “How do you prevent the

statistical measure of IQ from becoming interpreted as a global statement about

somebody’s worth as a learner?”

The speaker still looked confused. I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t sure I got it

either. But she attempted an answer. “The IQ, it is what it is. I just try to

communicate the scores as tactfully as I can. But if the parents you work with are

upset by these reports, or if you or other teachers don’t know how to interpret them,

you can always call us to try to explain them again.” Williamson looked less than

satisfied with that answer and leaned forward a bit in his chair, about to reply, but

then thought better of it.

The speaker went on to explain strategies for supporting slow learners. These

involved: giving concise, one-task-at-a-time instructions, trying to avoid passive

learning activities such as copying notes from the board in favor of more active things

like games and puzzles, trying to find ways that the subject areas of learning

converged with the students’ personal interests, finding what the students were good

at and drawing on these competencies, and using a lot of repetition when teaching

difficult concepts. I saw Williamson nodding along. I asked if he tried to use these

strategies, and he said he tried to, not just with students who were supposed to be

slow learners but with most of students he worked with. While this speaker had given

an unsatisfying answer to his previous question, she was identifying many of the same

strategies he said he used with these students.

 62

While the speaker was answering another question, I glanced over a handout

we’d been given entitled ‘How to Support a Slow Learner.’45 Most of the strategies

addressed what were thought to be gaps in slow learners’ reasoning abilities. When

teaching difficult content, teachers were cautioned not to engage in ‘compare and

contrast’ teaching too early. For example, the handout indicated, slow learners might

have trouble differentiating between two systems of government if they were still trying

to figure out the essence of the first system they’d learned about. The handout

cautioned teachers to expect slow learners to require three exposures to a concept that

normal students would likely be able to learn in one exposure. While acknowledging

that many slow learners were good at basic rote math skills, the article emphasized

slow learners would tend to struggle with problem solving.

When I came to a section on reading, I was surprised to see in stark print the

admission that many of the strategies that worked for students with reading

disabilities would also work for slow learners. I briefly skimmed over these and then I

elbowed Williamson in the chest, maybe a little too forcefully as he looked up with a

pained expression. But then I showed him this passage and he glanced over it too and

nodded his agreement again. “If so many of the strategies for working with struggling

learners are so similar, at least for reading,” I whispered, “why make such a big deal

over the categorical differences?”46 A young, but stern looking teacher to our left shot

us an angry glance, fed up with our talking during the presentation.

45
See Robert R. Shaw, “Rescuing Students from the Slow Learner Trap,” Principal Leadership, 10, no.6,
(2010): 12-16, http://www.nassp.org/Content/158/PLFeb10_StudentServ.pdf. This is the actual source for
most of the advice in the fictional handout.
46
Mae Burgess, “Identifying Reading Disabilities: Why Discrepancy-Based Definitions Don’t Work”
(Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Toronto, 1990), 53; and Robert. M. Klassen, Paul Neufeld, and Fiona
Munro. “When IQ is Irrelevant to the Definition of Learning Disabilities: Australian School
Psychologists’ Beliefs and Practice,” School Psychology International 26, no.3 (2005): 299, doi
10.1177/0143034305055975. Both of these sources articulate the perspective Max has just come around
to.
 63

The speaker then went on to describe a few more assessment strategies. She

said slow learners tended to do better with assessments that allowed them to affirm

what they knew instead of assessments that ‘tricked’ them into exposing their

deficiencies in knowledge. She said that they tended to struggle, for example, with

math problems with irrelevant information, or “red herrings,” I thought, packed into

the questions. She said they tended to struggle with multiple choice testing when the

distractors, or incorrect answers, were too close to the correct answer. She said that

teachers always had to emphasize their strengths, to find the things they were actually

good at, and to build on these things. She said that slow learners lacked confidence

and were often embarrassed to ask for help. She recommended using a strategy that

involved giving each student in a class a card colored green on one side and red on the

other to lay on their desks. Students who needed help or felt unable to continue with

work they found confusing, simply had to turn the cards over. I’d experienced a

similar technique at a dinner date I’d had at an all-you-can eat Brazilian steak house,

except that green in this case signaled the desire for more skewered meat morsels and

red signaled satiation. I’d spent too long on green and was in no shape for dancing or

anything else at the end of the meal. The speaker then concluded by saying that due

to long careers of school failure that slow learners are often highly discouraged, highly

at-risk of dropping out.47

The remainder of the session involved questions for the speaker and some

sharing, between the various participants, of further strategies to support slow

learners. I tried to listen, but found my mind wandering about where this speaker’s

ideas fit in to this investigation, and where else I might look for slow learners that day.

A little later, the speaker announced she was finished, and that there would be a

47
Shaw, “Rescuing Students,” 12 – 14.
 64

fifteen-minute break, after which the topic for the session would change to something

called Assistive Technology. There were murmurs of thanks and light applause. As

the other attendees began to shuffle out towards the restrooms or over to the

refreshments, I told Williamson that I thought he’d exaggerated his claims about the

indifference slow learners faced in the province’s educational system. There were a lot

of concerned teachers at this session, I pointed out.

“There’s over a hundred schools in this district,” Williamson answered back,

“and there are only sixteen teachers here today.” I glanced at the large pile of still

undistributed handouts in front of the speaker and at all the uneaten refreshments on

the table. I took another Danish.

“Still,” I asserted, “the speaker seemed to know a lot about this educational

category and the supports these students need. Everyone who did show up seemed

concerned about slow learners.”

Williamson conceded this point with a shrug. “But did you hear her say

anything about ways of actually changing things systemically to make things fairer for

slow learners? Did you hear her response to my concern that the way the data is

communicated sets the students up to be less valued?”

“The supports that she is talking about do sound like efforts to make school

fairer for slow learners. You said you use some of the same strategies she described,” I

insisted. “Don’t you think more slow learners would get through school if everyone

knew more about the category and the supports these students need to be

successful?”

“That’s not good enough,” Williamson insisted. “Something about the label still

puts these kids at risk. Something about the interventions that flow from the label,
 65

even if some of them work, is contaminated. You heard her say she’d rather diagnose a

learning disability than determine a student is a slow learner.”

“What if slow learner was a disability label?” I asked. “You said that would lead

to more services?”

“I said it might make it easier to access services,” Williamson replied, “but I

didn’t think it was a good idea overall. Do you think these kids would really be that

well served by a disability label that sets them even further apart, based on measured

intelligence, from normal kids? The stigma of being quasi labelled is bad enough.”

“Is it really that bad?” I asked. The room was beginning to quiet down again as

the coffee break drew to a close. Another speaker had filed into the room and was

plugging her laptop computer into the projector the previous speaker had used.

“Back when the slow learner program was called IOP or the Integrated

Occupational Program, other kids and even some teachers used to sneer at it calling it

‘Idiots on Patrol’, or ‘On Parade’. And how often have you heard the words ‘retard’ or

‘retarded’ used as an insults?” Williamson asked tersely. I didn’t answer, but I

reflected I heard this all the time and had even used those words in this way on

occasion myself.

“Just asking,” I said, holding up my hands in a placating manner. Most of the

attendees had returned to their seats by now and people were staring at us again.

“The argument is only academic anyway,” Williamson replied in a calmer,

quieter voice. “The way I understand it, the overall IQ is one category too close to

average for any new sort of intellectual disability label to apply. On the other hand,

there is no way another category of learning disability could be opened up for slow

learners as learning disabilities all depend on big discrepancies, and once the overall

IQ starts to get a little lower its harder to find that big of a discrepancy.”
 66

I remembered reading something about this categorical impossibility in the

library, and hearing Williamson explain it to me now, with uncharacteristic clarity,

seemed to exhaust the topic for the time being. I couldn’t think of anything else to talk

to my client about, at least nothing worth continuing to disrupt the in-service over.

While there was still a chance to make a getaway, I asked Williamson if he thought

there would be much for me to detect in the session that was about to start. He shook

his head. I whispered that I was going to check on some more leads and would call

him that evening. He reminded me to be careful.

 67

VII

Back in the Buick, I sat shivering in a frozen vinyl seat and considered the next

steps to my investigation. I wasn’t exactly lying when I told Williamson I had leads to

follow up; I just didn’t know what they were yet. He had told me about a couple of

other K & E teachers he respected at a different school in the district, though he said

he didn’t know them as well as he knew Colleen Birdseye. He’d talked to them for a

while at a convention one time and didn’t even remember their names, only the school

they came from. Still, he thought maybe I should talk to them. Colleen Birdseye had

been an open, forthcoming informant from the first words we spoke. I think I struck

her as a straight shooter which I can be when a case doesn’t require deception, but I

doubted this level of trust would be typical of every informant. I needed to talk to these

teachers as an insider.

I made a plan to pose as a substitute at a school other than Williamson’s, and

try to engage some teachers in a conversation about K & E. I considered the looks I got

at the in-service and thought maybe I needed some help to blend in better. To get in

character I stopped at a department store and picked up some beige corduroy pants. I

grabbed a pre-packaged frozen stir-fry dinner too. Consulting a city map, I realized the

teachers Williamson had suggested I speak to worked at a school on the other side of

town from his. It took a while to drive there. I had never worn corduroy in my life and

between the car’s heater finally warming the interior and the texture of my pants, I felt

like my legs were being squashed by a Panini press. I parked in a ‘visitor’ stall and

made my way into the school. A bell schedule posted in the hall told me that, having

skipped the next session at the in-service, I was still on-time for the school’s lunch

break. Trying to affect the purposeful walk of a hungry substitute teacher, I made my

way to the staff room. Glancing about as I walked, I noticed this school was newer
 68

than Williamson’s and had a sort of open design. Through windows and open doors, I

noticed the classrooms looked more like small conference rooms with students sitting

together at tables, not desks. Most of the rooms I walked by had Smart Boards. In

many of the rooms, the teachers appeared to be using these as tools to augment their

lectures while the students took notes, but in a couple of the rooms some students

appeared to be gathered around the boards, writing and talking. I reached the

staffroom and quickly went over to the mailboxes. I observed Mr. Bostwick’s box had

accumulated several items over the past few days, including an as yet unmarked

Social Studies test on ultranationalism during World War 2. I always liked history. I

figured I would be Mr. Bostwick’s sub for the day.

I started to microwave my stir-fry, made a trip to the staff restroom on the other

side of the room and through a door, and returned to retrieve my heated meal. I also

purchased a coffee for a dollar from a vending machine in the staff room. All the time I

was listening for talk of slow learners or K & E. The various groups of teachers at

different tables weren’t all talking shop, but there was some of this. I heard complaints

of unruly students, poorly attending students, and incomplete or shoddy work. I heard

some worrying about getting all the course content in by the end of the semester.

Someone was griping about a lunch supervision schedule. Someone was coaching a

losing volleyball season. Except for a group of teachers watching sports highlights on a

flat screen television, I gleaned enough specific details from the overheard

conversations to guess that many of these teachers were sitting with other members of

their same academic departments. Along the back far corner of the room, I saw three

teachers who had been too far away to eavesdrop on. One of them was a hipster dude I

figured to be in his thirties. He was sporting horn-rimmed glasses, an impressive set of

sideburns, khaki-colored skinny jeans and a retro golf shirt. He had a binder of
 69

resources that bore the handwritten label Social Studies 10-4. I remembered Colleen

Birdseye using a similar course number when talking about teaching K & E, and I

guessed that this man and his companions were likely the teachers Williamson had

suggested I interview. I asked if I could join them at their table. They seemed

surprised, but not unpleasantly, to have been noticed. One looked up and smiled, a

young, tall dame with dark wavy hair and a pink blazer. She took a break from

punching the buttons of her Smart Phone and gestured toward one of the cushioned

chairs. The third teacher, an older fellow with a proud, senatorial head of silver hair,

the formal effect toned down by a plaid woodsman’s shirt and faded blue corduroys,

asked who I was in for and I replied “Bostwick.” They digested this news pretty easily.

The hipster commented that he’d been out a couple of days and had a different sub

yesterday and then things fell into a casual silence for a minute. Pointing to the

binder, I asked if they were all K & E teachers. The older guy said they all taught some

K & E classes, but only part time. They each had only one or two K & E classes in

their teaching schedules, the hipster clarified. The older guy offered that he and the

hipster had taught K & E full time before being moved over to this school due to

closure of their prior school, so it looked like two of the three of them used to work

with slow learners on more like a full-time basis. The hipster said that the group of

teachers assigned to K & E classes liked to hang out together once or twice a week and

exchange stories about the students they had in common and help each other out

with strategies. I said I’d been doing a lot of subbing for K & E teachers throughout

the system lately.

“I hadn’t heard good things about K & E,” I said, between the small bites of the

bland, over-sweetened stir-fry I was pretending to be enjoying, “but the students I’ve

been working with have been pretty nice.”

 70

“If you treat them fairly and actually try to teach them it’s fine,” offered the

teacher in the pink blazer.

“It’s too bad about the Certificate of Achievement,” I opined. “If these classes

were more popular, I’m sure a lot more kids could benefit from them, but no one

seems to want the Certificate as a completion credential”.

“Yeah, I used to work in Ontario,” offered the hipster. “It’s different there, more

flexible. Being weaker in academic skills doesn’t cut you off of the diploma. In Ontario,

students who require a lot of differentiation can get a diploma with only locally

developed courses geared towards helping them. It’s not just the K & E kids who suffer

in the province really, Alberta is focused on such a high standard. It’s great if your kid

is in the elite, but it’s a shameful place to be for the mainstream population. Only a

third of students go to university; what does Alberta education really do for the other

two thirds?”

“Do you think we could ever get as flexible here as you say it was in Ontario?” I

asked.

“Not as long as there are diploma exams,” asserted Silver Hair. “These kinds of

kids aren’t pen and paper learners. The diploma exams only test their weaknesses, not

their strengths.”

I didn’t know what diploma exams were but couldn’t admit to it. “It’s so unfair

for the K & E students,” I echoed, hoping to learn more.

Silver Hair nodded in agreement and said, “Even if they manage to succeed in

Math and Science where the next tier up from K & E has no diploma exam either, they

can’t get out of high school with a diploma without having to sit for three hours

through two English exams and two Social exams worth half their marks in these

classes.”
 71

From the context I took these exams to be some sort of highly weighted high

stakes exit / completion exams for the province’s high school students.

“Three hours of assessment Hell,” I remarked, hoping this was apt enough to

solicit further commentary.

“I don’t know what’s worse,” the hipster said, taking the bait. “The reading

challenges, not to mention the stamina challenges, posed by the multiple choice

components, or having to perform multiple written responses, with no real chance to

collaborate or revise.”48

“Whether or not we recommend K & E often hinges on if we think the student

will eventually be able to handle a diploma exam,” added the girl in the pink blazer.

“And a lot of the K & E students don’t even qualify for accommodations on them.”

Even though I thought I’d already heard the answer from Colleen Birdseye, for

the sake of verification I asked her why many K & E students didn’t qualify for

accommodations. Her explanation echoed what I’d heard from the psychologist earlier

that day; it sounded like a reasonable explanation of another unreasonable policy

regarding slow learners. I still found this concept of accommodation weird. I’d always

associated the word with shelter. Like the dingy hotels, including the present, that I

48
Alberta Education, General Information Bulletin Diploma Examinations Program (Edmonton: Alberta
Education, 2013), 1 – 8, http://education.alberta.ca/5006.aspx. To elaborate on what Max has pieced
together, for Alberta’s grade 12 students on the high school diploma track there are mandatory diploma
examinations weighted at 50% of a student’s course grade in the following Grade 12 courses: Biology 30,
Chemistry 30, English Language Arts 30–1, English Language Arts 30–2, Français 30–1, French
Language Arts 30–1, Mathematics 30–1, Mathematics 30–2, Physics 30, Science 30, Social Studies 30–1,
and Social Studies 30–2. While there are tiers of Math and Science on the high school diploma track that
do not require completion of diploma exams, to receive a high school diploma students are required to
write either English Language Arts 30–1 or English Language Arts 30–2 and either Social Studies 30–1
or Social Studies 30–2.The English and Social Studies examinations are both divided into multiple choice
and written response parts.
 72

occupied while out on cases. It sounded like slow learners were being denied shelter in

a way.

“Doing better on a test with an audio CD or a scribe should be seen as a

learning modality, not a disability,” asserted the hipster.49

“I don’t know about that,” I responded, playing devil’s advocate. “If we just start

letting everyone do tests and assignments by talking and listening wouldn’t that

undermine reading and writing. We’re supposed to be all about literacy, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, reading and writing is important. We obviously need to teach those

skills,” acknowledged Pink Blazer, “but they are also ubiquitous. They shouldn’t be

imposed so exclusively that a K & E kid feels like … he’s burning under a thousand

hot suns every time he walks into the school,” she concluded poetically.

“Back when schools were more concerned about K & E students I was asked do

an in-service for the staff on the needs of this population of students,” Silver Hair said.

There was that ‘in-service word’ again. I silently reflected that this profession must

have a lot of screwed up individuals in it if they all needed constant retraining, as he

continued with his story. “At the in-service, I asked everyone to write down what their

weakest commonly used skill in life was. You know how staff are at these things.”

I didn’t but rolled my eyes in feigned solidarity.

49 Unlike this informant, Alberta Education takes a very cautious approach to providing accommodation
on standardized testing, seeing their potential over-use as a threat to the validity of the assessments. “The
goal of accommodation is not to optimize performance but to level the playing field by removing
obstacles to performance that are inequitable. Consequently, accommodations are neither intended nor
permitted to: alter the nature of the construct being assessed by an exam, provide unfair advantage to
students with disabilities or medical conditions over students taking examinations under regular
standardized conditions, or compensate for knowledge or skill that the student has not attained.” Alberta
Education, General Information Bulletin, 12.
 73

”Teachers are often the least cooperative students,” he continued. “But I

didn’t go on until I saw everyone had actually done it. Then I told them to imagine

for the next eighty-five minutes everything we did would involve that skill. It was

only hypothetical of course, but you could have cut the tension in the room with a

knife.”

We all chewed on that, and our lunches for a while. Finally, I broke the silence.

“I’ve only been doing some subbing in K & E,” I asserted, “I’m not really a K & E

teacher, but do you really think it’s that bad? Every high school I’ve worked at has

these amazing shop classes. Seems like there’s a lot of hands-on learning.”

“Yes and no,” Pink Blazer said. “In our CTS classes in mechanics, as an example,

students are asked to complete three thick booklets and a written safety test before

they even get to touch anything on the car. 50 For many K & E students, this turns

them off, they lose all motivation. This is all backwards. They should get the hands-on

learning first and if they really need to do some of the written theory at least do it only

after they’ve actually had the hands-on experience. You know, to help them make

sense of it.”

“So,” I thought, “even the classes these overly concrete learners are supposed to

be able to excel at are often inaccessible for them.” I tried, instead to fish out more

optimistic sentiment in the conversation. “At least you have your actual K & E core

classes to give them some practical chances for concrete learning in these areas.”

“We had more chances when it was IOP,” the older gentlemen informed me.

“The curricula for English, Math, Social and Science were all geared towards giving the

50
See Alberta Education, Pathways to Possibilities: The Revised Career and Technology Studies
Program (Edmonton: Government of Alberta, 2010). This acronym stands for Career and Technology
studies classes which include “shop” or industrial arts classes in welding, carpentry, mechanics, cooking
and cosmetology, as well as classes in legal studies, management and marketing, accounting and
computing.
 74

kids a more practical experience. They were shorter than the classes that were the

next level up too, coincidentally. The -4 classes now are pretty much a watered down

version of the -2 classes, which are themselves a watered down version of the – 1

classes.”

“Why did it change?” I asked.

“It was a problem, not so much for students because it always allowed them

transition points back into the regular program, but for administrators and

institutions that IOP was so different than the regular program. Many schools were

not embracing IOP. In the program of studies rewrite, Alberta Education wanted to

make it so the K & E classes were the same amount of hours as the high school

diploma levels, using a similar curriculum, and so flexible that a student could take K

& E in one core area and high school diploma route in the next, even though this last

thing was always possible under IOP too. They were trying to make it more flexible for

schools and students, but they ended up nearly killing it.” He sighed as he uttered this

last statement.

“I don’t get,” I pressed. “How did aligning the classes more with the diploma

route nearly kill K & E?” Here was another mystery to solve.

Silver Hair began to explain, “Well, even if not all schools were embracing IOP,

some of the schools that did were really doing innovative things. I heard about one

school program at the time that routinely engaged its IOP students in building houses,

as a part of their IOP classes.”

That sounded pretty exciting. I made a note to try to follow up on it. Silver Hair

continued, “Before I started working in this high school, I was at a vocational school.

We weren’t quite as ambitious as the house-building school, but things went pretty

well. In the core area we had IOP classes and the lower academic tier of classes;
 75

sometimes we combined the two levels in the same classroom. It had great labs, and

shop teachers who really focused on hands-on learning.” His face transformed into a

wistful expression as he explained this last bit.

The hipster jumped in with his own story, “Where I used to teach we just had

a large IOP population in a regular school. We often relied on off-campus education –

work experience placements with community employers – to get the kids through the

vocational requirements for their IOP certificates. By the time most of our kids reached

grade twelve, they’d worked at several school-arranged jobs and they’d learned how to

communicate with employers, how to conduct themselves in a place of business, how

to work hard, and so on. One of the non-IOP teachers in the school said he could

always tell who my kids were, not because their skills were weak but because they

were so much more polite than the other students. At least they graduated ready to

function on a job; now they leave knowing no more about this than any of the other

students do. They gutted the program.”

“Isn’t this all a bit nostalgic?” I challenged. “Things couldn’t have been going

that well or they wouldn’t have changed the program. Besides, isn’t education

supposed to be getting more inclusive?”

“Inclusion into what?”51 The hipster spoke up. “If all inclusion means is putting

K & E students back into some of the same rigid classrooms they’ve struggled in

throughout, without offering additional support, they’d be better off in separate

classes that are at least designed to meet their needs.”

“Inclusion has meant taking things away for K & E kids, not putting things in,”

Silver Hair agreed. “Our district’s interpretation of inclusion has meant shutting down

51
Julie Allan, “Excluding Research” in Rethinking Inclusive Education: The Philosophers of Difference
in Practice. Ed. Julie Allan. (Dordrecht: Springer, 2008), 48.
 76

the vocational settings where K & E was being offered in. Inclusion was seen as you

don’t need discrete schools. Maybe there were problems with the previous model but

no one in this district has proposed a meaningful alternative, schools were just given

another teacher or two and a bunch of K & E kids and told to figure it out. Once again,

the actual K & E students were the afterthought, or afterbirth.”

I found this to be a rather harsh metaphor and expected his companions to

shudder or appear offended in some way, but they all calmly accepted the truth of the

statement. This was all rather depressing. I could see why no one else was sitting with

these three. Then, once I got over the shock of the metaphor, the reality he described

set in and I blurted out, “But how? How can a district be so careless with such a

vulnerable category of students?”

They all looked at me quizzically and I thought I’d blown my cover with such a

naïve question.

“You haven’t worked in special programs much, have you? I mean before the

subbing gigs in K & E?” asked the teacher in the pink blazer. I don’t think she had any

idea how completely she was rescuing me with that remark. I was so grateful I

considered proposing marriage.

“No, I’m just starting to learn my way around that corner of education.” I

thought I might as well admit to this, but tried to follow up with some kind of

observation to show I wasn’t completely out to lunch. “But from what I’ve seen in the

little experience I have with it, I mean from the classes I’ve been in, it seems that

schools don’t always follow the criteria for K & E real closely either. I’ve heard that K &

E is supposed to be for slow learners, you know, behind in school, low average IQ and

so on. It seems more like it’s often used for anyone who doesn’t fit into the regular

program.”
 77

“I’ve heard teachers complain that they just dump students in these classes,”

the silver haired fellow remarked, “that they should only admit true K & E students

but it’s more complicated than this. Students who actually fit the criteria can

obviously be well-served by K & E classes, if they are effective, but other students do

well in K & E too. If the K & E class is well taught, some behavior disability students

thrive too, maybe because their struggles with learning produced the behavior. These

kids are all complex learners.”

“Does that include learning disabled students?” I asked, recalling the strong

contrast the literature had made between the two categories. “Is there a meaningful

difference between K & E students and LD students?”

“I think there is,” the hipster quickly offered. “We see it all the time. In the high

school diploma stream, if you give an LD kid enough time and maybe read his unit

tests for English and Social Studies out loud to him to help him comprehend or give

him a scribe to type out his written responses for him, he’d likely be fine. You can’t

accommodate true K & E kids into the diploma stream. You can read the tests a

hundred times to them and they still won’t comprehend enough or be able to produce

writing with enough content. They are academically weak across the board.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” the teacher in the pink blazer argued. “I once

worked with a student from the intellectual disability program in my K & E social

studies class. Her IQ was supposed to be so low that even K & E was overachieving a

bit, but when we helped her with her homework after school, read her tests out loud to

her and let her dictate her essays, she did great. She moved on from K & E and into

the diploma tier using these same accommodations and even passed her diploma

exams, though just barely. She got her high school diploma. If LD vs slow learner is a

meaningful distinction, how come a student who is supposed to be even less

 78

intelligent than a slow learner can succeed in the instructional tier above K & E with

the right kind of accommodations?”

“Well, we’ve all seen exceptions like this, but you can’t say she was a typical

case,” the hipster retorted. This was getting interesting. “Maybe her particular IQ test,

the one that put her at the level of intellectually disabled was an underestimate.

Maybe her IQ test was too old to be valid. We’re supposed to have the kids retested

every five years or so, but there isn’t always the time or money. A kid who truly had

those levels shouldn’t have been able to do that well.”

“I guess,” she acknowledged, still sounding unconvinced. Then her eyes lit up a

little as another thought struck her. “Actually, though, I’m not even sure this is an

argument we should be having. These unit tests you talk about, the ones that the K &

Es supposedly aren’t capable of doing, even with accommodation; they’re essentially

just chopped up diploma exams, right? The writing assignments, they’re all modeled

after diploma exam written responses, right? Never mind the argument about IQ, how

can you say a kid is weak ‘across the board’ academically when all they are ever

assessed on is the same limited range of curriculum the diploma exams test? 52

Sounds more like weak across the tightrope.”

“I didn’t say I thought it was fair,” the hipster grumbled, “I just meant that the

way things are under current curriculum, the K & Es do appear as different from most

of the LD kids.”

Despite the somewhat sour tone of his statement, I could see the gap between

the positions of these two younger teachers closing. “I thought diploma exams were

supposed to test the students’ range of knowledge in the whole courses,” I offered, “if

52
Diane E. Meaghan and François R. Casas, “Bias in standardized testing and the misuse of test scores:
Exposing the Achilles heel of educational reform” in Passing the Test: The False Promises of
Standardized Testing, Ed. Marita Moll (Ottawa: The Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives, 2004), 36.
 79

that much time and money goes into creating them and making sure they are

thorough and valid.” I felt out on limb here, but was pretty sure such an ambitious

testing enterprise would have these characteristics. “Why is it a bad thing that

classroom teachers model most of their assessments on diploma exams?”

“They don’t test a whole range of skills, or knowledge,” she asserted. “Take

English Language Arts. The program of studies indicates students should be taught

and assessed on their ability to do process-oriented writing, produce multiple drafts,

restructure first draft writing, and shape texts according to audience and purpose.”

“Uh-huh,” I replied. I felt like she was lecturing us, but thought I’d bear with

her to see where it went.

“Well, where is the opportunity to do these things on a diploma exam, or on a

time-limited in-class essay that is modeled after the diploma exam? These skills from

the program of studies are basically bypassed while skills like writing under pressure,

coming up with ideas quickly, and producing a polished first draft, that aren’t even on

the program of studies get added as the major skills being assessed.”53

“Sounds like a game show,” I remarked. “Some kind of beat the clock thing.”

“Yeah, a sick, high stakes game show, with mandatory participation.” Pink

Blazer agreed. “Kind of like in that movie The Hunger Games.54 Teaching to the test

sometimes is bad enough, but this literally turns teaching into the test. The course

becomes a one hundred twenty five hour diploma exam.”

53
See David. H Slomp, “Harming not helping: The impact of a Canadian standardized writing assessment
on curriculum and pedagogy,” Assessing Writing 13 no.2 (2008): 184: doi: 10.1016/j.asw.2008.10.004.
54 W. John Williamson and W. James Paul, “The level playing field: Unconcealing diploma exam

accommodation policy.” Journal of Applied Hermeneutics (2012): 6,

http://jah.journalhosting.ucalgary.ca/jah/index.php/jah/article/view/24.
 80

“More like three hundred and seventy-five,” Silver Hair suggested. “The grade

ten and eleven courses pretty much work this way too, even though the diploma exam

isn’t until grade twelve. You know, just to keep it consistent, they say.”

“Isn’t that overstating things a bit,” I asked, winning a shrug of concession from

the teacher in the pink blazer. “Besides,” I added, hoping I had a line of argument I’d

picked up from in the news in my own country right, “don’t these tests also hold

schools accountable for teaching students the curriculum, 55 for giving students

reasonable marks, and so on. Don’t they help it all from becoming a big free-for-all?”

“You’re not expressing a very high opinion of the work we do if you think that’s

what would happen without these tests,” scolded Silver Hair.

Chastened, I changed the topic, reframing something I’d read as a personal

observation and follow-up question. “K & E numbers are pretty low at the schools I’ve

been working at. Are they low here too?”

“I only have five students in my K & E social class next period,” Pink Blazer

confirmed. “I can’t see any administrator putting up with numbers that low for very

long. They’ll probably just dump the K & Es in with the lowest tier of the high school

diploma level class, the -2s, next year and have me teach that, just to make everyone

else’s numbers a little lower.”

“Oh? Will that make things even worse for slow learners?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she mused. “I’d do my best, I guess. Maybe I could cut down on

the K & E stigma and make all the kids feel more included. Instead of even worrying

about levels ahead of time, I could just try to teach the course and figure out what

levels of credits each student should get later on, after I’ve actually focused on

teaching them. In K & E, I always do a lot of discussion with students to try to get

55
Margaret Stewart, “The Perils of Testing” in Passing the Test: The False Promises Of Standardized
Testing, Ed. Marita Moll (Ottawa: The Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives, 2004), 185.
 81

them curious about the course. But I couldn’t do this and run the kids, any of them,

through all the unit tests and in-class essays the social department wants me to

administer. And there would be that diploma exam coming up next year for all the -2

students in the class. I don’t know if I’d have enough free reign to really personalize,

but it would be nice if I could. But the year after, if I got hit by a bus or something and

the class got a new teacher who didn’t know anything about K & E, then maybe the

kids in the blended class really would disappear – I mean not get enough help and end

up not completing the course.”

For some reason, the familiar word she had used, ‘disappear’ stuck in my

thoughts like a morsel of food in my throat not quite choking, but scratching. I was

about to formulate a question when I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a tall, broad-

shouldered, bearded man, legs so thick his brown corduroys rubbed together as he

walked, enter the staff room. He went over to the mailbox labeled Bostwick, retrieved

the contents, sat at an empty table in the far corner from where the K & E teachers

and I were sitting, and began to go through them. My lunch companions were not

positioned as well as I was for viewing the entrance to the staff room and, luckily, did

not notice him. Still, I thought I was pressing my luck remaining in the room any

longer. I thanked my ‘colleagues’ for the company and made my way out of the staff

room.
 82

VIII

I returned to the foyer, where I observed an intramural floor hockey game

through the window of the gymnasium doors. I wondered if any slow learners were

playing. The stands were filled with students watching the game. A team dressed in

long socks, half shirts and shorts in ironic homage to 1980s fitness wear opposed a

team in coveralls with the team name ‘The Mechanics’ written on their backs in felt

pen. Though the uniforms were light hearted, the game was contested with a scrappy

intensity that made me tired just watching. One of ‘The Mechanics’ caught my eye as

he waltzed with liquid grace through three hacking and slashing opponents and

popped the ball into the upper left corner of the net before the goal tender could even

move. His game made everyone else look slow; I reflected if I was playing on the other

team, I’d try to inflict a well-placed elbow to slow him down.

This game ended in favor of ‘The Mechanics’, and the 1980s fitness stars left the

court to be replaced by a group of students dressed as superheroes. As they warmed

up, I realized at least a couple had Down Syndrome and it dawned on me that this

whole team might be made up of students with moderate intellectual disabilities,

maybe from one of the school’s programs. The game began. ‘The Superheroes’

definitely knew how to play but were not the floor hockey equals of most of ‘The

Mechanics’, least of all the graceful forward I had noticed earlier. Whereas the game

before was hotly contested – anyone who had the ball could count on only a split

second before his opponents would be all over him – in this game. ‘The Superheroes’

were given a little more space, a little more room to play. Just enough to keep it a

playable game. With all the aggressive sorting of students I’d been reading about it

was nice to see a game that included everyone. Still I was left wondering if ‘The

Superheroes’ would still have ended up on the same team if they weren’t all in the
 83

same special education program? Or, would many have found their ways on to other

teams, having been invited by their friends from their various classes?

Looking back to the foyer traffic I saw, out of the corner of my eye, the teacher

in the pink blazer walking towards me and it occurred to me that, even though it was

risky, that this might be a good opportunity to find some actual slow learners. She had

said she had a K & E social class scheduled for next period. I told her that Bostwick

(who I prayed she had not noticed in the staffroom) had a spare and the office had not

been able to find any other classes for me to assist with yet. I offered to teach her

class. She considered for a moment and then gratefully accepted. She told me she had

her class working on an ultranationalism assignment, but not to worry if we didn’t get

very far as they often spent a long time just talking about the content, and sometimes

things only vaguely related, instead of doing written work. She told me if I had any

background knowledge or experiences with the lesson to feel free to talk about them –

her kids loved stories.

Weaving in and out of the traffic of a couple thousand students en route to

class, I followed her down the hall and up some stairs to the classroom. We entered a

large room with new tables and chairs and old motivational posters featuring Charlie

Brown, Garfield, photographs of orangutans, and trite advice. A small bulletin board

off to the side displayed five colorful concept maps of the French revolution with

words, many misspelled, and hand and computer drawn diagrams. Apologizing for the

room’s lack of personality, she told me that due to her varied schedule in the school

she taught in different classrooms most of the day and was only allowed the one

bulletin board for student displays. A pair of students entered the room, then another

student, and then the last student. The last one deposited a pungent, grease-stained

paper bag bearing the label Burgeropolis on it in the classroom trash can on the way
 84

in. Every student said hello to us as they entered, the first three rather confidently,

the last student quite shyly.

Their teacher quickly ran through the names for me. She said all but one of the

students were present. She explained that I would be substitute teaching the class for

her and told them to keep working on the ultranationalism assignment. After she left, I

told the students that before they continued with the assignment I, as a new

substitute, would appreciate a chance to discuss K & E with them. I told them that

this would help me in my career as a substitute. Wanting to begin on a positive note, I

asked “So what do you like about being in K & E classes?”

A girl with long black hair and a Hello Kitty shirt, introduced to me as Hope,

was the first to respond. “Just, all the nice teachers, and how they help you all.” I

looked behind myself to see if her regular teacher had come back in the room and she

was saying that for her benefit, but no – it was a genuine statement. I chided myself

for my own cynicism.

Another student, the bearer of the Burgeropolis bag, jumped in. He was a thin,

sandy haired boy by the name of David who looked young for grade eleven. He more or

less repeated what the girl had said.

I acknowledged these observations and moved on to asking how many K & E

students attended their school, but none of them had any idea. Observing that this

current class was pretty small, I asked if all of their K & E classes were like this or,

remembering what their teacher had said about blended classes if there were some of

those running too. I figured maybe some classes in other disciplines had already been

blended. A couple of the students, at the same time, indicated they were in a blended

science class. It combined students from the less academic tier of high school diploma
 85

level science with a handful of students taking science at the K & E level. I asked how

many students were in that class and they indicated that it was around twenty-five.

“What is that like?” I inquired, thinking someone might note that it was harder

to get help in the larger class.

“It was okay. Like, everybody did what they were supposed to do. Everybody

worked. We could all work together,” replied Arturo, a young man with a brown eyes, a

round face, and an accent that I thought I recognized as Mexican.

“I liked the pace in the blended class,” David noted. “In this social class it took

us two months of lessons just to be ready for the first chapter of the text book. In

science there was usually a chapter a week with a test after every single week.

Sometimes it might take us two weeks to get through one chapter, but still, it went at

a pretty good pace.”

I considered this for a minute and then asked, “Seeing as how you are in a class

that has two different levels of science, have you had the chance to notice how often

you are given different tasks or assignments than the other students?”

“They don’t really do anything different,” she asserted. “They treat you, like, the

same as everybody else, and that’s kinda what I liked about it. No one knew I was in

ES 1, and that’s, like, um … they asked me, and they were like… there was this one

kid, and she asked me if I was in ES1 … and I was like, ‘yeah’, and she goes, ‘I never

actually knew you were, you were keeping up so well’.”

She had mentioned ES 1, not K & E. I made a mental note to double check

what ES 1 meant, but I had a line of questioning to keep pursuing first. “Wow. That’s

great,” I remarked, “but, I mean the work in the science class would be too hard at the

higher level for some of you, right? Or you’d be getting higher level credits, not K & E

level credits. How come you’re not getting higher level credits instead of K & E credits
 86

then?” I didn’t like to hear myself using the words ‘higher’ and ‘lower’ with these kids

but I couldn’t remember all the damn numbers in the sequence and I needed some

handle to get my point across.

“Because we would be doing …” she began, but then ran out of steam. “That’s

actually a really good question, and I’m really not sure about that one. You’d have to

maybe ask our teacher.”

“Why are we getting K & E and not high school diploma level Science?” Arturo

interjected, looking to clarify my question. At least he knew what to call the two

different levels.

“Yeah, yeah!” I could barely contain my excitement.

“Because,” he explained, “K & E is for, like … is the level where it’s … they give

you easier work, and in the high school diploma stream, you get to do what everybody

else is doing, while in the K & E stream, you just … just do the half of the work that

the other people are doing.”

“I never noticed that, like … I would work with David all the time,” Hope said.

“Me and David would have the same work. So I never really thought about it, it could

have been true, but I never thought about it.”

“Maybe,” I speculated, “your teacher was just so smooth doing it that you never

really felt that different. You were getting handed something different, but you just

didn’t notice?”

“That’s probably it,” she said and then instead of being disturbed by this

possibility she smiled, “It’s just … you do the work and they see how you do, and then

see what credits you get. Then they kinda know, and then they judge about not having

you answer certain questions, and how neat is that?”

 87

I wasn’t sure if it was neat or not so I was glad her question sounded rhetorical.

I observed that, by and large, what I was experiencing so far was a group of positive,

optimistic students who seemed appreciative of the programming they were receiving.

This did not square with Williamson’s statements that slow learners were in danger, or

Colleen Birdseye’s concerns, or those of the three teachers from this very school I’d

been talking to minutes ago in the staffroom. Why? Remembering Colleen Birdseye’s

story of being shunted so haphazardly all over the educational chessboard during her

school career, I thought I could get a better sense of the dangers these students had

traversed, and maybe were still experiencing, if I asked a little about their

backgrounds. I thought I’d begin with the student who’d said nothing so far. He was a

tall and gangly red-haired student. “Uhh, I’m so bad with names,” I lied looking to

open him up with a simple question before I asked him for his story, “and there’s only

four of you I should know this by now … what’s your name again?”

“Jonah,” he replied.

“Jonah. How did you end up in K & E Social Studies?”

“I … have really no idea,” he answered. I could see he was going to be a tough

nut to crack.

“No?” I pressed. “Well, at some point somebody must have told you what was

going on with the level of classes you were going to take and maybe even asked you

how you felt about it?”

“It’s all pretty, uh …” Jonah began before shifting to a more summative

statement. “I feel pretty uncomfortable with this class.”

“You’re uncomfortable with being placed in K & E Social?” I tried to clarify.

“Yeah …” he agreed.

“Okay. Why’s that?” I asked.

 88

“Just because there’s not a lot of people and it’s just not as, uh, fun as the

other classes I’ve taken,” Jonah answered vaguely.

Understanding that this student was in grade eleven, I tried to clarify what

other classes he might be referring to by going back to his earlier educational

experiences. To get a better sense of this, I asked, “When you were in grade nine, were

you just in regular ed. or were you already in K & E?”

“Neither,” he replied. “I was in a special class, ES1.”

It dawned on me that this ES1 was probably a class that was seen as

academically lower than K & E, maybe a class for students with intellectual

disabilities. Three out of four of these students described coming from ES1. No wonder

some of these kids like being in K & E, I thought, they see it as moving up in the

educational world.

Just as I was thinking this, however, Arturo began a lengthy story indicating

that he was not happy to have been placed in either ES1 or K & E.

“I used to live in Mexico,” he began, “and I did kindergarten and grade one

down there. But then they put me down to kindergarten here, and because I didn’t

know the classes, I didn’t know the language, uh … the teachers didn’t want to

struggle with me in teaching me the language and they just put me in ES1 for the ES1

teachers to struggle with me. And I guess that was unfair, because it, like … from

grade three to six, I was, like, per se …”

I was struck by his use of a Latin expression I associated more with contracts

and lawsuits than high school students but thought maybe he’d heard it one day and

it tickled his fancy, maybe even became a sort or earworm for him. Arturo continued.

“I was put back from all the students, and then, at the end of grade six, I write

this really, really strong letter to the school saying that I didn’t … that I strongly
 89

disagreed for me being in this program, because I … I knew I could do better, and I

could succeed in the normal stream, and then they changed me. But then, the next

year, when I arrived to normal grade seven, I don’t know anything because when I left

grade six, in the ES1 classroom I was doing grade four material. And the next three

years they pushed me up to grade seven, eight and nine, and I didn’t know where I

was going or what I was doing, because I didn’t have grade five and six. And then in

high school, because I can’t take the -1 level courses, I will not be able to go to

university because of this.”

I felt myself questioning the accuracy of some of his perceptions. From what I

could tell from my conversations there was ES1, which was probably a level of special

education for students with mild intellectual disabilities, then K & E above that for

slower learners, then a more general high school diploma stream for kids who could

achieve at normal levels but were not particularly strong in those subjects, and lastly

a more academic, university-bound stream. It seemed somewhat outrageous for this

student who had been placed in ES1 to be saying that he’d been unfairly kept out of

the highest level of courses due to these experiences in early schooling. Then I, again,

remembered Colleen Birdseye’s story. Maybe I didn’t have any business questioning

any of this. “So, it sounds,” I summarized, “like you think that some of that was

unfair, like you’re not happy with how you were treated in some of those earlier

grades, right?”

“Yeah,” Arturo agreed, “because I knew I … that I can do more, and I have more

energy, and I have more effort and I can do extra stuff that just … when I was in the

ES1 program, we used to repeat the same material. They were just stalling in the same

material. And, I guess I didn’t feel like we were … per se … advancing in the program,

and I was just stalled. And now I’m stuck in K & E 20-4, when I could have been in
 90

20-1 and been able to have the courses for university. But now, because of this, I’ll

have to go to college because of these certain train of events.”

From what I could tell from my investigation so far, Arturo had overestimated

the value of the K & E Certificate as a school leaving credential and was actually in

even worse shape than he thought. He would qualify for very few post-secondary

pathways, college or university, unless he was able to move above K & E, but I didn’t

say this. Just then I heard Mr. Bostwick being paged to the office. I wondered if any of

the people I’d spoken to, including the teacher whose class I was presently ‘teaching’

heard that announcement. How much longer would I be able to get away with this

ruse? I decided I better cut to the chase.

“Uh, have you guys heard the term ‘slow learner’ before? They sometimes use

that in the same kind of, uh, student description as K & E. What do you know about

that word, or those terms?” This felt to me like a rather abrupt shift but the students

seemed to take it in stride.

Arturo began, “Slow learner is … well, a slow learner basically is that you don’t

learn as fast as the other students, and you need a little bit of help for you to be able

to succeed. I guess, I have been a slow learner and what happened with me is that I

was a slow learner, and the school didn’t want to struggle with me,” he repeated from

his previous reply, “so they just put me in ES1 because they thought I had a ‘problem’,

that I didn’t learn because I didn’t learn as fast as the other … normal students. But I

was … I could have … just stayed in the same level, because I wasn’t that behind.”

I asked another student, Hope, the cheerful and talkative girl who had

answered many of my earlier questions. “Have you heard the, uh, expression ‘slow

learner’ before?”
 91

“I have,” she replied. “My teachers, when I was back in grade, like … half of

grade three to four, they called me a slow learner and I asked, ‘What does that mean?’

and they told me, ‘you need a lot of time on projects, and you need a lot of time on

booklets and paperwork, and you need more time on PowerPoints and copying down.’

That’s what I always think it is.”

“I’m a slow learner too when it comes to notes,” David said. “In my health class

I was always a little bit slow, and then if I did try to go faster I started to become

messy. Like, I kept trying to copy it down, and then I’d go way too fast and miss parts.

My health teacher, he said he would print out the notes so I wouldn’t have to copy

them down. He goes incredibly fast. I don’t know how the rest of the class can keep up

either. It’s like five seconds on one page and then he flips over to the next page.”

This wasn’t the sort of ‘slow’ I thought educators and psychologists were talking

about when they said ‘slow learner’. ‘Slow’ was shorthand for lower IQ I thought.

Whatever the abstract concept of intelligence was supposed to mean, and however

limited and limiting this concept was when reduced to a single number, I thought it

was still a lot more complicated than how fast a kid could copy off the board. At least I

thought it was supposed to be. Is this what they thought ‘slow learner’ meant? Had

someone actually told them this was what it meant? Then again, I thought, if copying

off the board and doing booklets of worksheets were the main forms of ‘learning’ in

some of the classes they came from, maybe these kids were ‘slow learners’ in those

classes. But if someone gave these kids Smart Phones to take pictures of the notes

they were supposed to be transcribing from the board, and they could use these

pictures as their notes, would that mean they weren’t slow learners anymore? If they

were slow at writing, but allowed to say their answers instead of writing them down,

would they still be slow learners? If they did good, careful work on the parts of the
 92

worksheets they were able to complete, but it just took them longer and the teacher

noticed this and assigned less to them, would they still be slow learners then?

“I’m far-sighted too,” Hope broke in interrupting my thoughts, “I can’t see far.

And then, like, my glasses are at my mom’s house ….”

“You mean near-sighted, because far-sighted is that you can see far,” Arturo

corrected.

“One of the two, yeah,” she replied, unconcerned. “And, um … so, my glasses

are at my mom’s, so I haven’t had my glasses for two weeks.”

I was considering if not being able to see the board made a student a slow

learner too, when David, the skinny kid at the back, broke in again.

“Yeah. I’ve heard that I am a slow learner. I need lots of help with my work, and

everything I do. I did curling, and my friend’s dad was the instructor. He’s tried to

teach me how to keep my foot from going way up there, but it still kept going up there,

so I needed a lot of help with that.”

I considered the arcane sport of rocks and brooms he’d just mentioned, one I

was only familiar with from a brief viewing of it on television during a lonely night a

long time ago when the Winter Olympics were the only thing on television. “If you have

to be a slow learner at anything,” I thought to myself, “I guess being a slow learner at

curling isn’t so bad.” Instead of offering this evaluation, in case the kid did think it was

a big deal, I just kept quiet.

“I took dance last semester,” Hope remarked, “and my teacher was impressed

on how fastly I picked up the moves. That was my first time ever taking dance.”

“I’m definitely not a slow learner at basketball,” Arturo offered.

Jonah, who had been sitting silently ever since he’d trailed off telling the story

of his placement in ES 1 and Arturo had taken over with his own story, suddenly
 93

stood up and produced from his backpack three bowling pins. He began to expertly

juggle them. I supposed I should say something about this interruption in routine, but

then I remembered I was only impersonating a teacher and didn’t really care whether

they did ultranationalism lessons or circus acts so I just watched him for a while.

“That’s fantastic,” I remarked when he was done. “Where did you learn how to

do that?”

“He just saw it on You Tube one day,” David said, speaking for Jonah. “We

watched it together at lunch time. That night he took some balls and figured it out in

about five minutes, he showed us the next day. He eventually bought some bowling

pins and he’s been putting on these shows for us ever since.”

Jonah smiled and sat down. I’ve never been able to juggle anything, balls,

bowling pins, relationships, money. I didn’t know whether I wanted to hug him, ask

him how he did it, or break his arms. I reflected on what I’d heard from the kids so far,

and felt none the wiser about where the slow learners went. These students were in a

class for slow learners. Most of them had even come from a program for students who

were supposed to be intellectually weaker than slow learners. But many of the things

they said they were slow learners at didn’t really seem that central to learning.

Furthermore, they often gave thoughtful, articulate answers to my questions and had

showed me a few things they definitely weren’t slow learners at. Everywhere I

investigated, this concept of slow learner appeared for a second, and then pulled a

vanishing trick. I was getting tired of this act.

I’d heard all I could process from these students. I couldn’t think of any more

questions to ask. Hopefully I’d be able to figure out a way to see them again if I came

up with some more. They were paging Bostwick again. I needed to make a getaway.

With hunched posture and a little moaning, I began to simulate a sudden onset gastric
 94

ailment. The students began to look concerned. I told them I suddenly wasn’t feeling

well. Then I phoned the staff room where the teacher who I’d volunteered to relieve for

the period was working, and let her know I’d taken ill suddenly and was leaving.

Abandoning the class that had shown me such goodwill with their answers to my

questions, I began a hasty exit. In the downstairs hallway, I passed a classroom with

an open door and a large man pointing to a map of 1944 Europe on a Smart Board; it

was Bostwick. As I walked straight ahead past his class, I caught him regarding me

curiously before resuming his lecture. Since that was all he did, I surmised Bostwick

had not yet heard about his strange, unsolicited substitute, and I felt grateful that

there wasn’t more interdepartmental collaboration going on in this particular high

school.

I pulled out of the school parking lot, passing the Burgeropolis restaurant

across the road at a little strip mall I hadn’t paid much attention to on the way in.

Noticing the Buick was running low on fuel, I stopped at a gas station a few blocks

down and filled it up, and then changed out of the corduroys in the station’s dirty

bathroom. As the itching in my legs subsided, I felt more myself again, but I also

reflected that for a while there, when the kids and I really fell into conversation, I

hadn’t felt like an imposter at all.

 95

IX

I decided to take a drive. I had nowhere to be, but it would give me something to

do with my hands while I reviewed the recent developments in the case. Reflecting on

my interviews, I realized I wasn’t sure if I’d actually met any slow learners in the class

for slow learners. All of the kids I met said they were at some point placed in classes

for students with intellectual disabilities. I had learned in my study session in the

library that the intellectual disability label referred to a different area on the IQ Curve

than the slow learner label did. Further, Arturo had attributed his academic troubles

to language difficulties. If he was right about being misplaced in ES1 and K & E over

language learning issues this made the application of the slow learner label doubly

suspicious. I acknowledged to myself, with some frustration, that this was indeed an

elusive category of students I was looking for. I worried about the K & E classes in the

school too. With only five students this year, would a separate social studies class

even be offered next year? If it wasn’t, would the students be okay in a blended class

like the teacher had described? Was this for the better, maybe? The students had said

they preferred the blended science class.

The neon sign of a greasy spoon restaurant glowed through the dirty

windshield of my car. Though I’d already consumed two meals and a snack in four

hours, I realized I was hungry again. My body had been constantly craving things to

burn for warmth since I’d arrived in this city, and the stir-fry hadn’t been very

substantial. I pulled into the restaurant and walked from my car to the entrance,

bracing myself against the sudden insult of a harsh wind. I sat down, and the waitress

rambled over to pour some coffee for me and give me a menu. Her hair hung in tired

spirals and she smelled of potatoes and nicotine. I ordered a clubhouse sandwich.
 96

There was no newspaper to swipe at this joint but that was okay, I had my thoughts

about the case to read.

Getting the chance to see a Knowledge and Employability class in action had

been helpful. If I kept hanging around K & E, would I discover some actual slow

learners? That’s who the classes were designed for, after all. I thought some more

about the two types of classes the students and teacher had described, the

deliberately paced K & E Social Studies class of five students and the larger Science

class in which the K & Es were included with students studying science at the next

level. In which level of class would they be likely to learn more about the subject

discipline? In which level of classes would they be more likely to learn more about

managing the complexities of living in the world with other people? In which class

would they feel more confident as learners? The teacher with the pink blazer said that

the pressures of preparing the students for diploma exams would have made it more

difficult to teach a blended K & E and high school diploma level Social Studies class,

why was there no talk of these pressures in the Science class? Then I remembered

that the tier of science the other, non K & E, students in that class were taking had no

diploma exam at the end of it.

As the waitress returned with my order I wondered if I was looking too closely at

all of this, if I needed a longer view to find slow learners.56 Despite my best efforts to

find slow learners by talking to teachers and students I had yet to find one. Instead of

using the category as a lens to see students who matched the description, maybe I

needed to study the process by which the school system had learned to find slow

learning students. How long had it been finding slow learners for? I thought about

56
“The Being of the entities encountered environmentally as closest to us remains concealed.” Martin
Heidegger, Being and Time, trans. J. Macquarrie and E. Robinson (New York: Harper Collins, 1962),
131.
 97

these Knowledge and Employability classes, and the Integrated Occupational Classes

that preceded them. I wondered what came before IOP? I wondered if, at least since

public education started, there had always been some sort of different schooling for

students seen as slower. Did they always sort students into these programs by IQ?

How did this all come about? Did the alternate schooling paths for slow learners

always have this vocational emphasis? What called out to me just then, was the

history of all of this.

I felt, then, the heat of being observed and, using a clean part of my spoon as a

mirror, saw that someone had slipped into a booth a few tables behind mine and was

watching me. Bending to scratch my ankle, I stole a longer glance using my seasoned

peripheral vision. He wore a grey suit with creases so sharp you could shave with

them and was alternating between writing in a clipboard and measuring me with

unblinking, steely eyes. Everything about this guy spoke of bureaucratic conspiracy. I

took a slow breath to contain my excitement. This was the break I was waiting for. I

needed to turn the tables on him; tail him, and find out who he was working for. I

thought if I dialed up the heat in this restaurant and upset his sense of an orderly

stakeout, he might want to leave to avoid attention. I could then follow him back to

wherever he came from. When my waitress returned to refill my coffee, I began to

berate her about the quality of the meal, the staleness of the coffee, the rubbery

bacon, the soggy toast, and the dirty table. I demanded to see a manager. I pounded

the table. The cook came out from behind the grill and began to advance towards the

table. His greasy t-shirt didn’t succeed in covering a large stomach or enormous meaty

arms, each one the size of a ham. The bemused expression he wore suggested there

was nothing he’d like more than to brace me between himself and the table with his

giant gut while he drummed on my head. My observer got up and skittered out of the
 98

restaurant and, a half beat later so did I, throwing down enough cash to pay for the

meal plus a generous tip and a torrent of apologies at the bewildered staff.

I rushed to my car, looking to follow my pursuer. He had used his head start

well and was already speeding out of the parking lot in a nondescript, grey van. I had

to catch up or I’d lose him. In my haste, I was only vaguely struck by the novelty of a

black Peugeot driving towards me. Then I was struck more intensely as it lurched into

a sharp arc over the restaurant sidewalk and clipped me just below the hip. I fell to

the ground clutching my thigh, the nerves in my leg a gang of jumping monkeys. Two

men scrambled out of the car to see if I was okay. Under normal circumstances, an

assault such as this would bring out the darkness in me and I’d fight on even with

four broken limbs. Leading with my fists was, after all, one of my primary methods of

investigation. But I was so surprised by the event, and the men who were jumped out

of the car struck me as so odd, that my rage was short-circuited and I simply waited

in curiosity and agonizing pain.

The first man approached me. As he crouched to examine me, leaning on the

car that had struck me, I noted that he was not physically tall but had a tall crop of

thick snow-white hair that seemed to possess a will of its own. Once he determined my

life wasn’t in peril, his lips turned up slightly in an enigmatic smile that might have

been amusement or embarrassment, and his brown eyes took on a playful sparkle. I

studied him as he inquired about my injuries in a strong French accent despite his

excellent English. Under his overcoat, he wore a slightly rumpled charcoal suit

brightened by a burgundy shirt and oddly patterned brown, grey, and purple tie. He

seemed amicable, but shy and a little distant, alert and inquisitive, and yet haunted

by a certain melancholic stillness.57 His companion was stranger still. Standing over

57
Peter Goodrich, “J.D.” Cordozo Law Review. 27, no. 2 (2005): 814.
 99

the two of us, at first poised and ready to assist in whatever first aid was needed, and

then relaxing slightly when he determined my life wasn’t in danger, he had the

cunning face of a fox, albeit a completely hairless one. He wore thick glasses, and

though he was only slightly taller than average, the tall effect was exaggerated by his

thinness and striking baldness. Under his overcoat, he wore black pants, a black sport

coat and a white turtleneck. He looked almost like a comic book caricature mashup;

the thin body and outfit of a beatnik jazz musician with the head of Lex Luther, from

the Superman comics, pasted on it.

After I assured the driver I did not think my leg was broken, the two of them

helped me to my feet. It was too soon to try to stand and my leg began to throb so they

had me sit sideways in the passenger side of the Peugeot. From what I could piece

together from the French I dimly recalled from a boring class during a boring high

school career, the bald man had begun to chastise the other for his bad driving.

Though I couldn’t make out most of the words, listening to him speak was like

watching a skilled baker knead dough, expertly forming the strands together and then

slapping the dough into its final form with petite bits of measured violence. The effect

was lost on the other who just shrugged indifferently. They offered to take me to a

clinic to check out the extent of my injury and since this was my favorite leg, or

perhaps my second favorite, and I wanted to know how soon it would start working

again, I accepted.

The shorter man went into the restaurant and inquired where the nearest

medical center was. When he returned, despite the protests of his companion,

Jacques, as I heard him addressed, got behind the wheel again and started off. He

drove like it was some kind of sport. The liquor stores and sex shops and soulless

restaurants on the ugly thoroughfare whizzed by my eyes like signposts on a highway

 100

to despair. At first the two made polite attempts to converse with me, taking turns

apologizing and asking how my leg was feeling. When it became apparent I was too

sore and too shocked to make much conversation, they began a heated debate in

French and English. I gathered that the topic being debated had to do with the name

‘Descartes’,58 and that the bald man was named Michel, but I could not determine

either of their perspectives on the topic. They seemed deeply divided on some point,

whatever it was, yet in how their speaking cadences meshed, they seemed somehow

inseparable. Though I never caught the overall gist, some of the weird things they were

saying have stayed with me, half-remembered, to this day and still pop into my head if

I’m daydreaming. We arrived at the clinic, a box-shaped building on a small side road

of the main drag and I limped in, leaning on the bald man for support. When we

approached the front desk, the receptionist saw us coming and retrieved a wheelchair

from a small room behind the counter. Popping her chewing gum absently, she

beckoned my new friends to help me sit, and then handed me a form to fill out. She

said the doctor would see me shortly. My leg was throbbing so badly that the pain

radiated all over my body, and I could barely see straight enough to complete the form,

so my new friends volunteered to help.

“You are to list your last name first? Does your first name then become your

last name and last name your first name?” inquired Jacques, scrutinizing the form.

“Writing the last name first brings to bear some formality on an event such as this,

though making the last name first suggests a strange intimacy too. A formal-intimacy

indeed, as you will soon be taking your pants off so the doctor can examine you!”

58
See Roy Boyne, Foucault and Derrida: The Other Side of Reason (London: Routledge, 1990), 63.
Descartes’s views on madness became a source of tension between these two intellectuals when Derrida
described madness as in Cartesian thought as internal to the Cogito and accused Foucault of simply and
naively rearranging the reason / unreason dichotomy in his writings on Descartes’ Meditations. In this
parallel universe it is still something of a sore point in an otherwise long -mended relationship between
the two.
 101

“And your occupation …,” chimed in Michel, who was studying the form as well,

“your present occupation is occupying this chair waiting to be seen. Why should your

occupation matter on a form such as this? But before treatment you, through a

routine exercise of power/knowledge and by the tool of this clerical technology, are to

be sorted and classified by how you make your living, your gender, marital status and

so on. What if you live in the spaces between some of these boxes? Without asking

you, these discourses are already confirming your so-called normality or pushing you

to the margins. If you are here you may be sick to be sure, but are you a ‘normal’ sick

or an ‘abnormal’ sick’?” He punched the last two words insinuatingly.

A nurse arrived and told me that a doctor would see me soon. She seemed

vexed that between the three of us we still hadn’t completed the brief patient

registration form. I took it with me as she wheeled me into an inner office, leaving

Jacques and Michel to continue discussing the artifact they had just seen. Despite my

pain, maybe it was better if I completed the form on my own.

I waited in the inner office for some time, taking turns between checking off

boxes on the form and cursing. I was laying down a familial-themed blue streak when

a stern-looking woman in a white lab coat entered the room. At her bidding, I took off

my pants and she subjected my leg to some painful bending and prodding as I

continued to mutter profanity. I was usually more of a gentlemen in mixed company,

but I simply couldn’t help it this time. The physician declared my wound an acute

grade two soft tissue injury to the quadricep, hamstring and gluteal muscles. As I

struggled into my pants, she wrote me a prescription for some painkillers, and when I

objected that I was a private investigator and didn’t want to be medicated during this

case, she told me that I seemed pretty angry, and if I investigated this case while in

such intense pain I might have difficulties with self-control. It would be good if I
 102

submitted to the need for medication. She then told me I needed to stay off my feet as

much as possible for the next seventy-two hours, and that complete healing might

take as long as a month. I’d never known complete healing.

The nurse returned me to Jacques and Michel. We left the clinic and they drove

me to a pharmacy to pick up my pills. “Where are you planning on going next?” Michel

inquired, seeming like he was enjoying this adventure.

“I don’t really know,” I replied. “I’m a detective,” my two new acquaintances

made appreciative noises, “and I lost one of my only leads this morning when you two

crashed into me. This case has gone as cold as this city and now I’ve been disabled

too. I might as well go back to my hotel and start drinking. Better yet, maybe you

could take me out on a nice country road, shoot me, and leave me in the ditch.”

“I have a better idea,” said Jacques, “I think we can take you somewhere that

will help in your investigation.”

“You’ve done enough to help already,” I grumbled. I couldn’t help it, my leg was

killing me.

“No, we insist. I think you will have a much easier time finding the ‘slow

learners’ if you take this journey with us.”

It took a second for this to register with me. After it had I realized that these two

had been holding out on me. I felt the sudden urge to get away from them. I grabbed

the inside handle on the Peugeot and shouldered the door open. I launched myself

awkwardly out of the car and took four steps before collapsing in pain on the

pharmacy parking lot. Michel got out and retrieved me. Feeling resigned to whatever

my fate might be at this point, I accepted his help with docility and was soon settled

into the back seat where I could stretch out my throbbing leg. I thought I might as well
 103

pop a painkiller. The one I got out of the box looked appealing. It was a pretty purple

color with little yellow stripes and tiny white writing. It looked a bit like an Easter egg.

“We are sorry to have potentially excluded you from your own investigation in

this way,” began Michel.

“You see,” interrupted Jacques, “John Williamson asked us to see if we could

help you. He was worried; he said he you’d been in danger already.”

“Vehicular assault? Is that what passes as help where you come from?”

“I assure you,” Jacques asserted soothingly, “that was accidental. We saw you

trying to pursue that man in grey and thought we should intervene. We got too

excited.”

“You got too excited!” Michel corrected, producing another shrug from Jacques

in reply.

I wasn’t quite ready to forgive, but I was calming down. The medication kicked in,

and the buildings began to glide by in white blurs as Jacques turned into and sped

through a long industrial district. As we began to reach the outskirts of town, I

inquired where we were going.

“A special place,” answered Michel, “a private museum and archive. It is here

that you will get the background you will need to crack this case.”
 104

By the time we reached the structure, everything was starting to get a surreal

tinge that I could not decide if I liked or not. I settled on ‘structure’ for a label because

it looked more like a retaining wall than a building; it was built into a large hill that

could just as easily have been man-made or natural. Michel parked, and I gingerly got

out of the car with some help from my new companions. It would be a long, painful

and cold walk to the entrance. Only official institute vehicles were allowed in the first

several spaces in the parking lot and though the inner lot was almost completely

empty, a gate and key card setup reinforced the boundary.

“Be wary. Do not approach your walk through these galleries as a journey

through increasingly refined categories of disability.” Michel admonished me as we

walked, with the two of them supporting me, along a sidewalk leading to the building.

I wasn’t sure if his warning was distracting me from my discomfort or adding to it.

“Disability and slow learner are not, finally, scientific or theoretical discourses,

they are regular daily practices. What assumptions govern the placement of slow

learners on this educational track, and how does this track in turn shape

understandings of the slow learner label? How did separate tracking emerge to

construct slow learners as different from ‘normal’ learners? How did it come to be that

‘slow learner’ as a label was parceled out as separate from the many disability labels

that get applied to individuals? What were the prior ways of addressing learning

impairments and how did they construct people?”

Even through the haze of the medication, these questions caught my attention.

I’d had similar ideas, but found Michel’s way of addressing these considerations

particularly penetrating. I felt less a hostage and more a partner for the first time since

meeting these two.

 105

“Do not attempt to find a truth or a grounding for the idea of slow learner.”

Michel continued, “Just appreciate how the systems of knowledge that produce such

ideas have mutated over time. Do not be so bold as to try to fully understand past

appearances of categories, just look for discursive traces, clues if you will, by which

you might construct a history of the present. Then you might find your slow

learners.”59

“You have to analyze the history and the historicity of the breaks which have

produced our current world [of disability categorization]. Out of [a certain] origin, [but]

breaking or transforming this origin, at the same time,” Jacques added, emphasizing, as

far as I could tell, that the transformations Michel was speaking of were rarely smooth

or orderly.60 I thought this another fair point.

As I hobbled along, a question occurred to me. “I’m not just looking for slow

learners, you know, my client thinks the ways they’ve been classified have something

to do with why they’ve fallen through the cracks, or been pushed through the cracks,

and he is looking to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Is there some kind of tool I

can use to expose the problems with the classification systems in order to make things

safer for them?”

“I have a whole toolbox designed for this sort of thing,” Michel confidently

remarked,61 “but do not assume the enterprise will make things safer for your client’s

students in any stable or permanent way. Everything is dangerous.”62

59
Shelley Tremain, “Foucault, Governmentality, and Critical Disability Theory: An Introduction,” in
Foucault and the Government of Disability, Ed. Shelley Tremain (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan
Press, 2008), 16.
60
Jacques Derrida, “The Villanova Roundtable: A Conversation with Jacques Derrida,” in Deconstruction
in a Nutshell, Ed. John D. Caputo (New York: Fordham University Press, 1997), 10.
61
Foucault, “Prisons et asiles dans le mécanisme du pouvoir,” 523 – 524.
62
Michel Foucault, “On the Genealogy of Ethics: An Overview of Work in Progress,” in Ethics
Subjectivity and Truth: The Essential Works of Michel Foucault 1954-1984 Volume One, Ed. Paul
Rabinow (New York, The New Press, 1997), 256.
 106

I took this as less helpful. It sounded both cryptic and paranoid to me but

before I could press him on it, we finally reached the building. A large sign above the

thick wooden doors read CODRI. Looking at the black lettering on the door itself, I

realized this was an acronym, and a rather stupid one in its unwieldiness. It stood for.

 Classification

 Of

 Disability

 Research

 Institute

Noting the confusion in my face, Jacques remarked, “The sign is an ill-named

thing.”63 I couldn’t tell if he was being cryptic too, or just remarking on the unwieldy

acronym.

We entered the facility. It appeared to be a very slow day; I saw no other

patrons. Michel and Jacques signed me in as a guest at the registration desk. They

insisted, due to the very recent injury they had helped me acquire, that I borrow a

motorized scooter, like the kind patrons with limited mobility are sometimes lent in

shopping malls, to make my travels easier. They insisted that we each travel through

the gallery individually, arriving at our own conclusions. We could discuss things after

my tour. A host standing in front of the reception desk, a smiling, sandy haired young

man in an official grape-purple blazer, explained to me that to blur the lines between

observer and observed, I could select a particular disability from the menu above to

embody and, in my travels, I could experience how I was being treated throughout the

ages as a person with this disability. He told me each disability had its own self-guided

Jacques Derrida, Of Grammatology, Trans. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak (Baltimore: John’s Hopkins
63

University Press, 1974), 18.

 107

audio tour. I asked why it wasn’t a good enough category that I needed a scooter to get

around the museum. He said that didn’t count, it wasn’t one of the ‘official’ categories.

I asked him if picking up his teeth with broken fingers was one of the categories and,

as he considered this, I slammed the controller on the scooter forward, running over

his toes, and then turned into the entrance of the gallery.

Glancing quickly at a floor plan on the wall I saw that the museum was set up as

a series of long ovals, one on top of the next, wrapped around closed-off offices,

meeting rooms and laboratories. The exit/entrance to the gallery on each floor was

the only access point to the stairs and elevator to the next floor. The first floor dealt

with disability in antiquity. That seemed an awfully long way to go back to find slow

learners so I opted for the next floor where I could tour ‘disability in medieval times.’64

I took the elevator to the second floor and began the long circle through the

displays. A sign near the start of the gallery informed me of the Greek roots of the

word idiot, “Idiotes,” 65 meaning roughly: a layman or one ignorant of the affairs of

64
See Stephen J. Gould, The Mismeasure of Man, Revised and Expanded Edition (New York: W.W.
Norton, 1996), 51 – 52. If Max had entered the first gallery he might have been treated to a display of
Socrates and Glaucon discussing how citizens of the Republic should be educated and assigned by merit
to three classes, as well as Socrates’ admission that popular support for this system could only be
achieved through the myth of their inborn “mettle”.; See David W. Jardine, “The Descartes Lecture”
Journal of Applied Hermeneutics (2012): 8, http://jah.synergiesprairies.ca/jah index.php/
jah/article/view/27 . Max might also have seen a display explaining Aristotle’s principle of
noncontradiction (X = X) which Jardine has identified as an ancient philosophical root of current
educational classification; See Henri-Jacques Stiker, A History of Disability, Trans. W. Sayer (Ann Arbor:
University of Michigan, 2002), 23 – 50. Additional displays might have indicated a complex system of
inclusion and exclusion of disability including abandonment and exposure of physically disabled infants.
Max might have seen the prohibition of physically disabled and ‘slow witted’ people from religious
gatherings, but also rules forbidding the outright abuse of people with disabilities in the Abrahamic
religions. He also might have seen displays of Gospel depictions of Jesus Christ in the act of healing
people with disabilities, sometimes in violation of religious prohibition. He might, finally have seen a
display of St. Zotikos, the martyred founder of one of the first charitable leper colonies. Max obviously
would not have seen slow learners in their current definitions but he might have been overly hasty in
bypassing this floor. These ideologies and practices may well inform the systems of sorting that continue
to impact these students.
65
David Wright, Downs: The History of a Disability (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 19.
 108

more educated individuals. I reflected that in my early investigation of this rather

specialized missing persons case and in many other things I was, indeed, an idiot by

these standards. In Old English, the word came to mean an intensely private person,

set aside physically and psychologically in the community, before settling into a more

evaluative definition interchangeable with the concept of natural fool. In both cases it

seemed to designate individuals seen as having limited intellectual capacity. This

condition differed, legally, from the definition of lunatic, which involved the possibility

of a restoration of sensibility. I had routinely called people idiots and lunatics, to their

faces or in my own reflections, in my life and career. There always seemed to be an

abundance of thoughtless, reckless, feckless, stupid people and these words were a

nice all-purpose paint of disapproval to spread over them. But now, confronted by the

necessity of facing these words, as words for disability, in this gallery I felt

uncomfortable.

I learned that going as far back as the sixth century, as criminal law evolved,

idiocy and lunacy were increasingly considered conditions that exempted one from

liability for offenses, with the rationale that impaired individuals in these cases acted

without intent, malice, or appreciation of consequences. I read a legal decree from the

English King’s Prerogative (drawn up between 1255 – 1290) that superseded legal

property and inheritance rights for those deemed lunatics or natural fools. In both

cases the benevolent monarch would, ‘without waste’, assume custody for the property

of these subjects and use any profits the land generated to pay for their care. In the

case of lunatics, these rights were to be restored upon the return of their lucidity. I

then saw a series of petitions, drawn up by concerned family members, applying for

the guardianship of idiots and natural fools. I saw a recommendation that the courts

select, when possible,

 109

Male relatives … sound of religion, of good governance in their own families,

without dissolution, without distemper, no greedy persons [and] no

stepmothers.66

The next exhibit described itself as a sixteenth century ‘IQ’ test with the first part

in quotation marks in recognition of its anachronistic use.

An idiote or a naturall foole is he, who notwithstanding he bee of lawful age,

yet he is so witlesse, that he can not number to twentie, nor can tell what age

he is of, nor knoweth who is his father.67

I wondered about the ‘knoweth who is his father’ part. What did that have to do

with so-called idiocy? I’d helped lock up many punks of uncertain parentage who

were far from idiotic in their criminal schemes. Beside this exhibit was a quote

from court records

Indicted for stealing a silver cup, Thomas Middleton, the third of March last.

The evidence against the prisoner that he lodged at Middleton’s house and

Middleton’s wife missing of said cup made inquiry of the prisoner whether he

knew what had become of the cup. He confessed that he had taken it and

offered it to sale for 20S. But the prisoner appearing to be little less than a

fool, he was acquitted.68

A further explanation below the quote noted that the reason for acquittals in these

cases was termed as ‘misfortune of fate’.69

The next exhibits, which I drove quickly past, were pictures and models of

various sorts of church-run charitable hospices that, intermittently, grew between this

era and the middle ages. Accompanying signs explained that while some of these were

66
Wright, Downs: The History of a Disability, 22.
67
Henry Swinborne, A Brief Treatise on Testaments and Last Wills, (1590) in Ibid., 21.
68
Old Bailey Criminal Court Session Papers, 1685 in Ibid., 22.
69
Ibid., 22.
 110

catch–all institutions serving many sorts of sick and disabled individuals, other

institutions limited their mandates in certain ways excluding ‘lepers, the incurable,

and the paralyzed’. A few hospices grew to specialize to some degree, including an

asylum for those deemed mad in Hamburg in 1375, and a variety of asylums for the

blind, a category of disability of ‘rather more prestige’70 owing to its frequent mention

in the Gospels. Aside from economies of alms-giving and the sense of some holy

obligation to the poor (including the disabled poor) on the part the wealthy seeking

salvation, there was no overarching character to categorical understandings of

disability, or to interventions to assist people with disabilities. Inasmuch as hospices

grew during these periods, as the prior exhibits had indicated, disability as a matter of

private family obligation was the dominant practice as often as not. Where were the

slow learners in all of this?

Moving past this section, I read the title “Madness: Familiar Foreignness.”71 I

detected something of Michel’s way of turning phrases in this title, and as I drove

through the exhibit I saw, out of my peripheral vision, that he was watching me

watching the displays and grinning. Unsure, again, of the exact relevance of any of

this for slow learners, except that categories seemed much more plastic in these times,

I didn’t linger in this section. I saw, as I drove past figures of Don Quixote, as well as

Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Ophelia, King Lear and Lady Macbeth, symbolizing some sort

of tragic madness - a madness linked with mystery, death but also, paradoxically a

strange sort of wisdom. I recalled how in Shakespeare’s work, the mad always seemed

to get the best lines. I read too, about palace fools, Lear’s fool and others, whose jobs

involved exposing the artifice of the court and or even the sovereign, but again, who

70
Stiker, A History of Disability, 78.
71
Michel Foucault, Madness and Civilization: A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason, Trans. Richard
Howard (New York: Vintage, 1988), 28.
 111

spoke from a place of unreason as making these criticisms from any other position

would amount to treason. I recalled sitting in the professional development session

with Williamson, being struck by how much currency the professionals seemed to

place on the amount of reason that a student supposedly possessed. Had this strange

niche that unreason seemed to fill in older societies been filled in with cement

somewhere along the way, leaving unreason with no place to be at all?72 Did that make

any difference for slow learners? I reflected this was pretty thin as far as my own

investigation went, after all slow learners were thought to have less reason, not

unreason. Feeling I’d gleaned the larger sense of this gallery, but frustratingly, little of

import about slow learners, I circled back to the elevator and rose to the next floor.

72
Ibid., 202.
 112

XI

The elevator doors opened on a section entitled ‘The Great Confinement’. In a

display case, I saw a dollhouse-like model of what would, blown up to its real

proportions, have been a mammoth institution. This dollhouse was not for kids

though; the tiny figures on the inside simulated the scenes of abject misery that

characterized these institutions at the time. In the display case, beside the miniatures,

two quotations from visitors to such institutions from this era testified to the veracity

of the exhibit. The first described the conditions of several ‘patients’ in a large room in

the asylum:

One of the side rooms contained about ten [female] patients, each chained by

one arm to the wall; the chain allowing them merely to stand up by the bench

or form fixed to the wall, or sit down on it. The nakedness of each patient was

covered by a blanket only.... Many other unfortunate women were locked up

in their cells, naked and chained on straw.... In the men's wing, in the side

room, six patients were chained close to the wall by the right arm as well as

by the right leg ... Their nakedness and their mode of confinement gave the

room the complete appearance of a dog kennel.73

The second described the treatment of one particular ‘patient’:

A stout iron ring was riveted about his neck, from which a short chain passed

to a ring made to slide upwards and downwards on an upright massive iron

bar, more than six feet high, inserted into the wall. Round his body a strong

iron bar about two inches wide was riveted; on each side of the bar was a

circular projection, which being fashioned to and enclosing each of his arms,

“Edward Wakefield, “The Report of the Committee Employed to Visit Houses and Hospitals for the
73

Confinement of Insane Persons, With Remarks, by Philanthropus” (1814) in Andrew Scull, The Most
Solitary of Afflictions: Madness and Society in Britain 1700–1900 (New Haven & London: Yale
University Press, 1993), 113.
 113

pinioned them close to his sides.... He had remained thus encaged and

chained more than twelve years.74

Those deemed mad, I read as I continued on, were chained, starved and bitten by rats.

Any attempts at cure were affected not on the minds but on the bodies of the

internees; immersion in cold water, soapy foods, starvation, and even wounding were

seen as ways of purging the melancholic passions from the patients. There was no

concern for the cruelty of these interventions, as the mad were seen not so much as

sick, but possessed of an animality that made them impervious to pain as a result of

their madness.75 This was disgusting and, I thought, largely irrelevant to my present

case. I hadn’t seen any bars and chains at the schools I visited. There was, however,

just a little tinge of a connecting idea. Slow learners, too, were seen as a different

species of student requiring different treatment; the psychology texts I’d read were

especially firm on this point.

Next, I saw an excerpt from a letter about the experience of visiting Bethlehem

hospital in England where authorities enacted similar policies on those deemed mad:

You find yourself in a long and wide gallery, on either side of which are a

large number of little cells where lunatics of every description are shut up,

and you can get a sight of these poor creatures, little windows being let into

the doors. … On holidays numerous persons of both sexes, but belonging

generally to the lower classes, visit this hospital and amuse themselves

watching these unfortunate wretches, who often give them cause for laughter.

In Bethlehem, under the guise of witnessing a cautionary display of the consequences

of allowing vice to unseat one’s reason, asylum visitors sought out the “frisson of the

74
Jonathon Andrews and Andrew Scull, Undertaker of the Mind: John Monro and Mad-Doctoring in
Eighteenth-Century England (Berkley: California University Press; 2001), 85.
75
Foucault, Madness and Civilization, 74.
 114

freakshow” 76 in record numbers. A 1681 account complained of the “the greate

quantity of persons that come daily to see the said Lunatickes.”77

A written section along the wall provided some background to the miserable

scenes, detailing how unlike the prior eras which made room for madness with a

strange inclusive form of exclusion or vice versa, the classical age saw an attempted

total containment and silencing of madness, as well as of disability and poverty.78 The

economic crises brought about by war and industrialization resulted in spikes in the

ranks of the unemployed, beggars, and vagrants. Declining rates of leprosy had

emptied leper asylums. In the classical era, these were repurposed to contain not only

the mad, but the disabled, the poor, and the criminal.

Indeed, the authorities during these times had turned on the indigent with a

vengeance. I saw a painting of Parisian archers posted on the city walls shooting

beggars trying to enter the gates. I saw a translation of a law at the time, done up in

stylized writing and printed on parchment paper. It decreed that those caught begging

in the city would be whipped for a first offense and, if they were male, hanged for a

second offense.79 The preferred intervention, though, appeared to be confinement. A

caption below another picture of a prison noted that in 1656, one in a hundred

Parisians, including those we would now call mentally ill and those we would now call

disabled, were locked up, with similar practices occurring throughout an increasingly

industrializing, urbanizing Europe.80 I wondered if any of them were slow learners.

I realized as I drove along the exhibits, that they were taking on a greater

variety. They were now describing the orphanages, workhouses, and prisons that

76
Roy Porter, Madness: A Brief History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 67.
77
Jonathan Andrews, Asa Briggs, Roy Porter, Penny Tucker and Keir Addington, The History of Bethlem.
(London and New York: Routledge, 1997), 178.
78
Foucault, Madness and Civilization, 262.
79
Ibid., 49.
80
Ibid.
 115

characterized the great confinement. Institutional categories bled into each other, like

the blood of the inmates pooling on the floors, in the overarching project of

confinement. I passed along paintings and models of confined workers – some

apparently able-bodied, some bearing physical disabilities – digging wells, polishing

glass, rasping logwood, blacksmithing, beating hemp to make ropes, and sewing. I

realized that, despite the novel ‘cures’ I had read about in the previous section, the

preferred “treatment” for any confined population was work.81 “What is the source of

the disorders of [the asylum]?” a sign asked. “Idleness,” was the reply below. “What is

the cure?” another asked. “Work!” was the reply. 82 Or, as the enabling act of the

English charity workhouse St. Marylebone spelled out the purpose the institution was:

to admit the poor, both healthy and sick, diseased and infirm; the profligate

and idle who were to be corrected; and infant poor to be educated `in habits

of industry, religion and honesty, the profits from their labour to be used for

their own upkeep as well as for the parish.83

This idea of the formative character of work was interesting. I wondered if

it was a stretch to think that I was seeing in these exhibits some vestiges of what

would later appear as educational programming for all learners, but especially

slow learners who were deemed to require extensive vocational programming. I

read a list of rules for a ward for boys and girls under twenty-five in one of the

larger ‘hospitals’:

1. Work is to occupy the greater part of the day for all inmates with

unassigned time is to be spent reading pious books.

81
Armstrong. “The Historical Development of Special Education: Humanitarian Rationality or
‘Wild Profusion of Entangled Events,’ History of Education. 31, no. 5, (2002), 440, doi
10.1080/004676002101533627.
82
Foucault, Madness and Civilization, 57.
83
T. A. Markus, Building and Power: Freedom and Control in the Origin of Modern Building Types
(London: Routledge, 1993) in Armstrong, “The Historical Development of Special Education,” 440.
 116

2. Inmates will be required to work as long and hard as their strengths and

situations will permit, it is then, but only then, that they can be taught an

occupation befitting their sex and inclination.

3. The desire for reform will be determined by the zeal with which an inmate

works.

Every fault will be punished by reduction in gruel, by increase in work, by

imprisonment and other punishments customary in the said hospitals as

the directors see fit.84

The next exhibit showed the blueprint of the floor plan of a large workhouse. A

caption below explained how these workhouses were complicated institutions that

imposed “care, control, discipline, training, religion and productivity” on the inmates.85

The culture of the workhouse, the exhibit read, was built into its very design:

In Bishopsgate Street there were 129 children (increased to 400 by the early

nineteenth century)... In two 150-foot long workshops. The boys’ lodgings

were located above these workrooms, the girls’ over the chapel which

separated the workhouse from the prison. Boys had reading and writing

lessons; for the girls sewing and knitting replaced writing.86

I felt I was finally getting closer to slow learners by getting this glimpse of the

rudiments of the educational pathway slow learners were often placed on even now.

But it was more than just the slow learners on this pathway. During the times

depicted in the exhibits, I reflected social class made one a candidate for a workshop

as often as perceived intellectual potential or disability.

84
Foucault, Madness and Civilization, 60.
85
Armstrong, “The Historical Development of Special Education,” 440.
86
Marcus, in Ibid., 440.
 117

I wondered if vocational training in its present form was the same sort of thing

as what I’d seen in these workshops. Williamson’s school was replete with various

welding, carpentry and mechanics shops, as well as its kitchens and salon, but the

courses offered in these shops all seemed more or less voluntary and, in fact, seemed

valued in the school. It was hard to imagine the students I’d seen confidently striding

the halls in their coveralls and chef’s hats as inmates or urchins. One of the teachers

at my table in the staffroom of the other school had even mentioned that it was

sometimes difficult to get slow learners into the shop classes because they struggled

with the bookwork. Williamson had told me the story of the apprentice whose entry

into the college part of his training had been discouraged by a gatekeeper who was

made suspicious over the K & E courses on his transcript. That made this form of

education sound faintly elitist, quite the opposite of a charity workhouse. More like a

guild, the mysteries of which were somewhat guarded.

The school shops, like the charity workhouses, were doubly formative. As the

students practised various modes of production in the shops, the shops themselves, in

their practises and in their design, formed the students.87 If slow learners were lucky

enough to make the cut and follow one of these pathways, would they still be slow

learners on the other end of this training?

The ‘work’ section was the last display of the confinement exhibit. I saw, to my

relief that some “Humanist Reform” would be offered on the next floor. I took the

elevator up.

87
Armstrong, “The Historical Development of Special Education,” 444.
 118

XII

Arriving on the floor I immediately saw a display titled, “The Philosopher’s

Idiot.”88 A drawing of John Locke stared earnestly out at me, and the caption below

explained that Locke had seized on the concept of idiocy to help disprove Rene

Descartes’ notion that knowledge comes innately to humans. An idiot’s limitations or

inability regarding reasoning, Locke suggested, was emphatic proof of his tabula rasa,

or blank slate theory of human knowledge. 89 Whereas individuals of normal

intelligence, over time, ‘fill’ the blank slates they are born with through sensation and

reflection on sensation, the slates of idiots, who have trouble drawing conclusions

from sensory experience, remain blank or at least emptier – proving his theory. I felt

ambivalent about this. It seemed exploitive to characterize the capacities of this

population in order to make this point. On the other hand, the tabula rasa idea itself

implied that under the right conditions, most have some capacity to learn and implied

that the right sorts of environments were required to stimulate learning.90 In as much

as I’d been hired to look for slow learners themselves, so far I’d often ended up getting

dragged into an inquiry about the best educational conditions for students in general,

so the implications of the tabula rasa theory aroused my curiosity.

Seeing little of direct relevance in the next section – The Philosophes – I went

through it more quickly, pausing in only a few places. I wasn’t driving so quickly

however that I wasn’t impressed with the sea-change in thinking that the

Enlightenment involved. It was true that this period overlapped chronologically with

some of the abuses of the classical era, and that the same worship of reason had, in

different ways, informed the confinement I saw depicted on the floor below as well as

88
Wright, Downs: The History of a Disability, 29.
89
Ibid., 30.
90
Ibid.
 119

the advances I was seeing on this floor. Still, the potential impact of Enlightenment

thought on how people with disabilities were seen and treated was considerable. I saw

displays of scientific discoveries and moral and political philosophy suggestive of a

breaking down of the barriers of “fatalism and pervasive superstition” that had been

aspects of how disability was understood up until this point.91 I saw an increasing

secularism that, instead of hoping for divine intervention, spoke to the possibility of

advancing individuals, classes, and all of society to a more just, free, and rational way

of living. I saw a scroll of Rousseau’s revolutionary complaint at the beginning of his

version of the social contract, "Man was born free, but he is everywhere in chains."92 I

saw, for the first time, documents detailing how the poor and infirm ought to be

assisted, not, as part of Christian charity, but as a part of societal obligation, part of

the social contract.

As a pre-cursor to some of the educational research I’d been exposed to since I

began the investigation, I saw in the replicas of the writing of Condillac, Diderot, de

l'Epee, and Periere an incredible zeal to study, empirically, how deafness and

blindness impact an individual’s learning and communication, and their subsequent

efforts to apply their theories in devising methods of teaching children with these

disabilities.93 Concerning madness, I read asylum reformers Pinel and Tuke arguing

that the madness in many inmates was, if not caused, at least aggravated by the

brutal, inhumane conditions they were subjected to. Those afflicted with madness

required only the peace of bucolic settings, attentive care, detailed treatment plans,

91
Margaret Winzer, The History of Special Education: From Isolation to Integration (Washington:
Gallaudet University Press, 1993), 80.
92
Margaret Winzer “Early Developments in Special Education: Some Aspects of Enlightenment
Thought,” Remedial and Special Education 7 no 42 (1986): 42, doi: 10.1177/074193258600700509.
93
Ibid.
 120

and the restrained, gentle hand of correction to overcome their disorders. 94 I saw

miniature models and posters of a variety of educational / therapeutic institutions,

each specializing in the treatment of something that was deemed a particular category

of disorder at the time. In addition to the new corrective methods for the mind I read

about, I saw replicas of 17th and 18th century orthopedic devices for normalizing the

body: neck braces, Scarpa’s shoe for club feet, extension beds, and corsets.95 A sign I

saw as I reached the end of this section summed it all up rather nicely:

The governing ideas of today’s rehabilitation are already present in [these]

institutions. The claim that the disabled can tap into the same assets as the

able-bodied; the invention of techniques and pedagogies to achieve these

goals; the foundation of specialized institutions to make this all possible.

From this came the thought that there should only be customized institutions

that were geared toward dealing with the particular situation of their client.96

Despite my annoyance at not seeing any slow learners in the exhibit, I had to

stop for a minute and marvel that all of this progress had taken place in such a short

time. The thinkers in this era seemed to have got it right on reason. Unlike the jailers

of the previous exhibit, these thinkers did not use the idea of reason as an excuse to

oppress those who were seen as having less of it; they were using it, with a sense of

social responsibility, to reach out to those with disabilities with innovative solutions.

This way of thinking spoke to me. I reflected on how I often told my distraught clients

to be rational. Despite my use of other methods – a bribe, a hunch, seduction, or a

good right hook – I thought of all the cases I had solved by reasoning things out. I

thought of my own relationship to authority – the corrupt or incompetent police, the

94
Foucault, Madness and Civilization, 195.
95
Stiker, A History of Disability, 114 – 119.
96
Ibid., 107.
 121

corporate / criminal syndicates that ran things and dictated a self-serving form of

justice unworthy of the title. I thought about how I bypassed such things pursuing my

own cases, reasoning them through to my own conclusions, deciding justice for

myself. My imagination reached out to these free thinkers in solidarity.

Just as I thought I was having my own moment of enlightenment, however, I

felt like someone was watching me. I looked over my shoulder and saw Michel’s

grinning face again, peeking out from behind a portrait of one of the asylum reformers.

I’d run into him in the confinement display, too. Had he been following me the whole

time or was he just touring for himself? I couldn’t be sure. He walked over to me and

asked me what I thought about this portion of the gallery. I said I was relieved to see

conditions for institutionalized people with disabilities improving so much, and to see

all these efforts were underway to learn about impairment and help people with

impairments. I marveled at what an improvement over mass confinement this all was.

Then I said this was all very interesting, but I hadn’t seen very many clues about

where the slow learners were and I was beginning to worry that the rest of the facility

might be equally bereft of clues.

He seemed to ignore my second concern but, in apparent response to my first

warned me, “Do not allow yourself to be blinded by this enlightenment. There are

games of truth and games of power afoot. There is a less apparent form of violence,

but violence still: a separation of power between those who hold it and those who do

not, the production of the truth about what you now call disability rapidly accelerating,

and even as conditions for the physical confinement improve, notice the proliferation

of cells of categorical confinement.”97

97
Michel Foucault, “Psychiatric Power,” in Michel Foucault: Ethics Subjectivity and Truth, ed. Paul
Rabinow, trans. Robert Hurley (New York: The New Press, 1997), p. 45.
 122

“What do you mean?” I demanded. “What are cells of categorical confinement?

Whatever your suspicions are, all I see in the real world is things getting better for

disabled people, in both thought and practice, over the course of time depicted on

these two floors.”

“Reason, Max, consider reason, and not just in the seductive, idealist sense.

Everything is dangerous.” He said, repeating the advice he’d given me at the entrance.

Having gifted me with this wisdom, Michel strolled away, pausing only to appreciate a

display case of antique orthopedic restraints before continuing to tour on his own. I

felt incredulous that he could claim, if I understood him correctly, that these

humanist reforms somehow concealed a form of violence comparable to the horrors I’d

experienced at the beginning of the gallery. It seemed undeniable that the focus on

increasingly specialized and individualized forms of therapy and rehabilitation were an

improvement.

As I watched Michel walk away, I continued to be bothered by what he had

said. My mind flashed back to the image I’d learned about so long ago in history class.

Adoring crowds, all gathered in ecstatic festivals honoring a concept both abstract and

provocatively embodied in a beautiful, thinly-clad woman: Reason. Girls in white

Roman dresses and sashes dancing around the costumed Goddess. 98 Why was I

thinking of this now?

98
Doyle, The Oxford History of the French Revolution, 238.
 123

XIII

I noticed I’d again come full circle and was back at the elevators. A sign pointed

upward informing me that the “progress through measurement” section was on the

next floor. I rode there. I was first confronted with a bust of a youth with medium

length hair and vulpine features staring out at me with a look that might be described

as atavistic alertness. It bore the inscription “Victor: The Wild Boy of Aveyron.” A

write-up below indicated that asylum reformer Pinel, while holding progressive views

on the receptiveness to cure those deemed insane, continued to hold that ‘idiocy’ was

hereditary and irreversible. His pupil, Jean Marc Gaspard Itard felt otherwise and, to

disprove his mentor’s views, took on the care and rehabilitation of a young boy of

twelve who had been found running feral in southern France. While Pinel declared the

boy incurable, Itard felt his condition was due to severe neglect and that he could be

rehabilitated through a program of training to help him realize to use his senses and

eventually learn practical skills including speech. Though he failed in his attempt to

completely rehabilitate his new patient, Itard did, according to reports, realize enough

success in teaching Victor to identify letters and recognize simple words to consider

his approach of sensory training a promising basis of future practice.99

I moved on to further portraits and write-ups. I read that Itard’s methods were

widely circulated in the French medical community and inspired Maria Montessori

and Eduord Seguin. The latter became superintendent of one of the first schools,

housed inside the Bicetre hospital specializing in the education of ‘idiot’ children.

Seguin reinforced Itard’s belief that intellectual deficits were attributable, at least in

part, to sensory isolation or deprivation and that this could be reversed through

99
Wright, Downs: The History of a Disability, 35 – 41.
 124

powerful motor and tactual stimuli and adequate nutrition.100 He strongly advocated

for a specialist approach, asserting the need for intellectually disabled students to be

educated / rehabilitated at different institutions and with different methods than

people with mental health disabilities or physical disabilities. He also believed that

every student could be taught, not just confined, and that many could return to

successful participation in the larger community following the completion of their

schooling. 101 Seguin published two influential volumes on his methods in France

before being mysteriously fired from his position and emigrating to the United States

where his influence on the field continued. 102 Seguin, his American colleagues and

their students, established the theoretical basis for working with so-called ‘idiots’ or

‘the feebleminded’ and advocated strongly for the need for specialized, separate

institutions for people in these categories as an alternative to the brutal catch-all

lunatic asylums that still lingered in the new world. Their advocacy was often

successful; they won government and charitable funding and went on to found the

new institutions they had proposed.

I wondered where the slow learners fit into all of this. I felt I was getting warmer

again, as things started to get more specialized. In the earlier exhibits, it seemed likely

that when so many financial, physical and intellectual states of being were defined as

deficient and subject to confinement, many slow learners were probably confined. But,

then again, would a phrase like ‘slow learner’ even have any meaning in an era when

so many were locked up so indiscriminately? “What about in the more specialized

institutions that were beginning to emerge?” I wondered.

100
Winzer, “Early Developments in Special Education,” 48.
101
Ibid.
102
Wright, Downs: The History of a Disability, 37.
 125

With this question in mind I drove past a section detailing the growth of

specialized ‘idiot asylums’ in Great Britain and its colonies and the rest of Europe in

the mid to late 1800s. This led into a section that held no portraits, statues, floor

plans, busts or miniatures. It was nothing but black and white charts, mathematical

formulations and quotes from scholars.

I happened upon a chart made in 1848 by Samuel Gridley Howe, an American

colleague of Seguin’s. What caught my attention was the highest functioning of his two

categories of idiocy:

Fools are a higher class of idiots, in whom the brain and nervous system are

so far developed as to give partial command of the voluntary muscles; who

have consequently considerable power of locomotion and animal action;

partial development of the affective and intellectual faculties, but only the

faintest glimmer of reason, and very imperfect speech.

Simpletons are the highest class of idiots, in whom the harmony between

the nervous and muscular system is nearly perfect; who consequently have

normal powers of locomotion and animal action; considerable activity of the

perceptive and affective faculties; and reason enough for their simple

individual guidance, but not enough for their social relations.103

I noticed that in 1866, Seguin, my hero of the prior exhibit, and two of his colleagues

had come up with their own classification system declaring “the distinction between

the perfect and the imperfect mind is ... clear,” 104 and proposing eight separate

categories of unclear minds. These categories took into consideration both presumed

103
Murray K. Simpson, “Othering intellectual disability: Two models of classification from the 19th
Century,” Theory Psychology 22, no. 5 (2012): 546. doi: 10.1177/0959354310378375.
104
Ibid., 544.
 126

“tissular lesions” or identifiable diseases of the 19th century tied to idiocy as well as

observation of traits including intellect, willpower, and physiological functioning.105

Then, a shiver ran down my spine as I read on, a free-standing exhibit about a

category I hadn’t seen in this gallery before. The “Enfant Arrière.” According to

Seguin, as the sign explained, this category was a borderline sort, as:

the idiot makes little or no developmental progress compared to the ordinary

child, whilst the backward child develops in degrees intermediate to the two

groups. [A difference of] “arrest” rather than “retardation” of development. 106

Had I finally, after three floors, found slow learners in this museum?

I noted an early vote for an educational approach that might later be called

inclusion, though not really, as it only favored the inclusion of backward and idiot

children together, away from everyone else. “This child may be, and is in fact, actually

educated with the confirmed idiot; and there is no inconvenience, but advantage, in their

being treated alike.”107

All this specialization, I was noting, despite leading to more humane conditions

in asylums was also, more and more, creating a sense of these populations as different

kinds of human beings, and by extension creating everyone else as normal human

beings as it went along. 108 Every proposed attribute, every characteristic, marked

another taxonomic departure from the emerging norm.109 I thought maybe these were

the cells of categorical confinement Michel had been speaking of, and I wondered

105
Ibid., 544.
106
Ibid, 545.
107
Ibid.
108
Michel Foucault “The Abnormals” Michel Foucault Ethics Subjectivity and Truth. Ed. Paul Rabinow.
Trans. Robert Hurley. (New York: The New Press, 1997): 53.
109
Ibid.
 127

about its practical consequences. How would this categorical confinement play out as

a daily activity?

And then here was the backward child, the “enfant arrière” pushing back,

blurring the boundaries. I saw a wisp of white hair behind this exhibit. Jacques

emerged and wandered over to me. “Border towns, interesting places …” he remarked.

“Dangerous places,” I added after a second or two of thought. “You never quite

know where you stand. Folks who come from border towns can’t be trusted.” My voice

sounded hard-boiled as I uttered this last sentence. Maybe I was getting my edge

back.

“Your slow learners have appeared on the border,” remarked Jacques. “This

undecidable, the slow learner label, this nearly normal / nearly abnormal, has been

shoved into a cell designated abnormal. But perhaps it cannot be contained. Perhaps

it will burst out and call both judgments into question.”110

I considered this. It sounded weird the way he said it, but I thought maybe

Jacques was on to something. Maybe I needed to look for slow learner in the in-

between places in this institution. Maybe I needed to look for the ways the label

troubled these emerging categories. Maybe I needed to look for how the authorities

tried to contain this trouble.

Jacques wandered away and I drove next past a shelf labelled “phrenology”

which contained a collection of skulls, rulers, and “fact” cards. I didn’t get out of

my scooter to examine them. I then happened upon a large photograph of a

bearded man with a kind and inquisitive face and eyes alertly staring out from

110
See Simpson “Othering Disability,” 544. The author describes the backward child as one of Derrida’s
undecidables and, illustratively, refers to another example of categorical undecidablity. In India in
colonial times between the British colonial elite and the subaltern classes there existed an ambiguous
indigenous elite class. This class formed a blurred, indeterminate, and shifting boundary between the elite
and the subaltern masses; sometimes part of the dominant group, sometimes part of the dominated.
 128

behind an oddly shaped pair of pince-nez. This, I read, was Alfred Binet, father of

the modern IQ test. The biography beside the portrait read that Binet, the

director of psychology at the Sorbonne, began his career as a dedicated

phrenologist. He published several papers on the relationship between cranial

volume and intelligence before eventually growing disillusioned with how

inconclusive research in this area was beginning to seem to him.111 Seizing on

some emerging research proposing psychological determinations of intelligence

instead, Binet decided to direct his research along these lines. Commissioned by

a Minister of Education to develop techniques for identifying those children

whose lack of success in normal classrooms suggested the need for some form of

special education, Binet devised a battery of tests meant to simulate everyday

reasoning tasks such as counting coins or assessing which faces in a series of

pictures were prettier.112 His contention was that a large number of these sorts of

progressive tasks, administered by a trained examiner, could be used to estimate

intellectual capacity and thereby flag the learning deficits he had been

commissioned to find. On the second revision of his tests, he decided to assign

each of the tasks in a series an age corresponding to its difficulty. From this he

was able to glean composite ‘mental ages’ of the test subjects as determined by

their average ages on the tasks subtracted from their chronological ages.

Children whose mental ages were well behind their chronological ages were

flagged for special education programming. 113 Binet, the exhibit noted, went on

111
Gould, The Mismeasure of Man, 177.
112
Ibid., 179.
113
Ibid., 181.
 129

to develop special education classes, offering “mental orthopedics” as a means of

boosting the intelligence of his pupils.114

The now familiar concept of intelligence as a quotient was born out in a

refinement of this method when German psychologist W. Stern argued that, in

order to better represent disparities, the mental age should be divided by

chronological age instead of subtracted from it.115

I read, next, a list of Binet’s fears regarding potential misuses of his

invention. These included:

1. Mental age is a rough empirical estimate for practical use, in reality the

tasks cannot be superimposed on one another so there can be no real

overall intelligence. Low scores shall not be used to mark children as

innately incapable.

2. There is a danger of mental age being abused by schoolmasters to exclude

unruly pupils and also abused as a self-fulfilling prophesy reducing the

effort that is invested in teaching some pupils.

3. Mental age is best used to determine which pupils require additional help,

it should not be used to rank all pupils.

4. No opinion is offered on whether the student’s performance is indicative of

hereditary or environmental factors or predictive of future potential. It is

the mental age at the time of testing only.116

This all sounded eminently reasonable to me. Indeed, it was hard to see how IQ

came to mean so much more than this from reading about the modest aims of its

founder. I admired Binet’s cautious practicality, his efforts to provide a tool to

114
Ibid., 184.
115
Ibid., 185.
116
List paraphrased from Ibid., 181-182.
 130

help children and educators, combined with his insistence that this tool be

wielded carefully. Then, however, I happened on the copy of Binet and co-writer

Simon’s The Intelligence of the Feeble Minded left out on a podium for museum

patrons to browse and I read a few passages:117

Taking account only of the practical acquisitions we find, that is of instruction,

we find it an absolutely clear difference between the two subjects. The

normal child of seven years can read hesitatingly; an imbecile of twenty

years cannot read, and can never learn to read.118

As I browsed through it, I saw the book was a detailed volume of the limitations

inherent in various levels of ‘idiocy’. It included many photographs of its subjects. A

lengthy section discussed the almost animalistic insensitivity to physical pain in

imbeciles as compared to ‘normals’. A photograph showed a subject, one of the case

studies, reaching forward for a biscuit that had been offered him, “in animal fashion”

with his mouth instead of with his hand.119 Here was a volume that not only sought to

detail “how a superior intelligence differs from an inferior one.” 120 It also sought to

introduce a pecking order of sorts between the various levels of imbecility that it so

meticulously described. 121 For someone whose ambitions for his tests were so

cautious, Binet now appeared to boldly assert how this separate lot of humanity, set

apart by measured intelligence deficits, was so very different than the rest of the

species.

117
Alfred Binet and T.H. Simon, The Intelligence of the Feebleminded, trans. Elizabeth S. Kite.
(Baltimore: Williamson and Wilkins, 1916).
118
Ibid., 133.
119
Ibid., 16.
120
Ibid.,.11.
121
John. T. Hall, Social Devaluation and Special Education: The Right to Full Inclusion and an Honest
Statement (London: Jessica Kingsley, 1997), 19.
 131

I next saw a urethane replica of a thick, mighty tree. Across its branches and

foliage hung the banner “eugenics”. Its intertwining, exposed roots bore labels such as

“Genetics, Biology, Mental Testing, Archeology, Surgery, Psychology, and Law”. An

inscription read:

like a tree eugenics draws its material from many sources and organizes

them into an harmonious entity.122

A banner entitled “Social Darwinism” hung just a little past the eugenics tree. This

section of the exhibit bore a picture not of the father of evolutionary theory, Charles

Darwin, but of his cousin Sir Francis Galton. A piece of trivia indicated that Galton

was a polymath who pioneered twin studies in behavioral genetics, came up with the

first free association psychological test, and who devised a reliable system for storing

and recording fingerprints.123 I hoped I would someday be able to use these facts in

conversation at a dinner party before remembering that I didn’t get invited to dinner

parties. More relevantly, Galton was moved by his cousin’s evolutionary theories,

particularly those focusing on selective breeding of domestic animals, and became

convinced that the human race could be improved by careful breeding too. Coining the

term ‘eugenics’, he suggested that those of high merit should be encouraged, even

financially awarded, for marrying amongst themselves and having children when they

were still young. He presented the following vision of a social Darwinist utopia:

The best form of civilization in respect to the improvement of the race, would

be one in which … every lad had a chance of showing his abilities, and, if

highly gifted, was enabled to achieve a first-class education and entrance

122
American Philosophical Society, “Eugenics Tree Logo” in Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory,
http://www.dnalc.org/view/10229-Eugenics-tree-logo.html.
123
Stela Gega “Sir Francis Galton” History of Psychology Archives (2000),
http://www.muskingum.edu/~psych/psycweb/history/galton.htm.
 132

into professional life … [and] where the weak could find a welcome and a

refuge in celibate monasteries or sisterhoods.124

The last sentence caught me by surprise, and gave me the creeps. I then passed

under a hanging banner quoting the bible verse:

Now therefore ye are cursed, and there shall none of you be freed from being

bondmen, and hewers of wood and drawers of water.125

That was odd. I wondered about its relevance. A short ways down I noticed I was

about to pass under something else. I initially thought was an arch. Then, straining

my head up and back in the scooter, I realized it was a gigantic bell curve subjecting,

symbolically, any who sought further passage in the museum to an exercise in sorting.

Assuming it was oriented for forward progress, I maintained a path somewhat, but not

excessively right of center. I figured bright but not too bright was a good path. An

illustrated film on a monitor went over the early history of the curve, showing a figure

repeatedly flipping a coin, with distribution tables scrolling across the screen below

the cartoon. The video then described, with another animated sequence, how the curve

also found use in astronomy, as a means of averaging out the errors in various

sightings of a star when trying to calculate its location. I mentally noted that Michel

would say it was almost inevitable that such a powerful tool would be turned on

modernity’s favorite subject of measurement – man. Indeed, the film next indicated it

was an astronomer, Adolph Quetelet, who was actually the first to apply the curve to

the study of humans. He felt that the statistically average man embodied values of

moderation as well as the rightful political ascendance of France and Britain’s middle

124
Francis Galton, Hereditary Genius (New York: D. Appleton and Co., 1870), 362,
http://www.mugu.com/galton/books/hereditary-genius/text/pdf/galton-1869-genius-v3.pdf.
125
In Gould, “The Mismeasure of Man”, 212.
 133

classes. 126 “How paradoxical,” I thought. “Average is suddenly great.” After a few

seconds, the following text, a quote from Quetelet, scrolled up over the picture:

One of the principal acts of civilization is to compress more and more the

limits within which the different elements relative to man oscillate. The more

that enlightenment is propagated, the more will deviations from the mean

diminish …. The perfectibility of the human species is derived as a necessary

consequence of all of our investigations. Defects and monstrosities disappear

more and more from the body.127

More tables scrolled across the screen, these ones of a variety of human traits

including height, weight, strength and eyesight. I was interested to learn that the idea

of ‘normal’ was such a recent invention, only finding widespread use with the rise of

social statistics in the 1800s,128 and agreed that in many ways it was still viewed the

way Quetelet saw it, as a desired state of being. Indeed, since taking on this case, I’d

often wished I was employed in a more ‘normal’ investigation, as if I’d ever had one.

The finer points of the statistics eluded me, but as far as I could tell this idea of

producing a more normal population seemed like a dog chasing its own tail. After all,

the curve that created all the fuss about the desirability of ‘normal’ would also produce

a large number of abnormals whenever it was applied, so how could you move a

population towards normal by using its data? Then, I remembered a radio show I used

to listen to in the Buick during long surveillance engagements, something about a

town where “all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the

126
Lennard J. Davis. “Constructing Normalcy: The Bell Curve, the Novel and the Invention of the
Disabled Body in the Nineteenth Century.” in The Disability Studies Reader. Ed. Lennard J. Davis. (New
York: Routledge, 2006), 4.
127
Ibid., 5.
128
Ibid., 6.
 134

children are above average.” 129 Sure, it seemed like normal was often the going

concern even now, but I also wondered if somewhere along the way, ‘superior’ got

thrown in as an even more desirable state in the populations the curve measured. I

remembered glancing at the psychologist’s website where I found the information

about slow learners, way back in the library, and seeing that one of the current grades

of human intelligence, as measured by IQ testing, was labelled “very superior.”130

Just as I was thinking this, the video flashed back to a bell curve, on which

data of human characteristics including height, strength, agility, and, most relevantly,

intelligence were plotted. It explained how Galton had renamed the error curve as the

“normal distribution” curve, divided it into quartiles, and ranked the extremes he saw

as most desirable highest, and least desirable as lowest. 131 Although it was a dog

chasing its tail again, all of this implied, to those amenable to interpreting it this way,

that there was a way that most humans should be, that the human race was indeed

perfectible, and that negative deviation from the norm was an affront to social

progress.

The video advanced to a description of types of citizen unfitness that showed

the trend, once the statisticians had constructed this sorting machine, to find and

lump together all the deviants who threatened the health of the nation. “The habitual

criminal, the professional tramp, the tuberculosis, the insane, the mentally defective, the

alcoholic, the diseased from birth or defect.”132 This list had been given, in 1911, by

Karl Pearson, a leader of the British eugenics movement. “How widespread were these

views?” I wondered. The next scene answered my question. Across the screen scrolled

129
Garrison Keillor, “The News from Lake Wobegon” A Prairie Home Companion with Garrison
Keillor. (Website for podcast) http://prairiehome.publicradio.org/about/podcast/.
130
Erin N. King, “FAQ Parents ask about Intelligence Tests,” School Psychologist Files.
http://www.schoolpsychologistfiles.com/iqfaq#questionTHREE.
131
Davis, “Constructing Normalcy,” 8.
132
Ibid., 9.
 135

a who’s who of public supporters of eugenics. Some of the names I caught were: John

Maynard Keynes, President Theodore Roosevelt, Bertrand Russell, Alexander Graham

Bell, George Bernard Shaw, Winston Churchill, and H.G. Wells.133 I’d seen enough. In

solidarity with the subjects I had been hired to find, and with the rest of the deviants

on Pearson’s list too, I did a U-turn with my scooter, drove back to the giant curve,

and circled under it again. This time I went through on the left hand side of the center.

Passing the video on my way back to the gallery, I saw a sign that provocatively

asked, “Did it work?” Was this in reference to all this curving business? It seemed a

sort of a silly question without clarifying what exactly it was supposed to work at.

Below, however, were some interesting, if somewhat confusing points about the

normalizing curve. The self-same Karl Pearson who had come out so strongly in favor

of eugenics itself nevertheless worried about the universality of the curve. Doing his

own observations of distribution in many of the same phenomena considered textbook

examples of the curve (rolls of dice, roulette wheels) he claimed to have been often

unable to reproduce the normal distributions originally found.134 I then learned that a

pair of contemporary researchers had pointed out that Galton had never directly

identified normal distributions in human populations when studying various traits. He

had to produce his distributions through the conversion of his data to standard scores

and the averaging of these scores together. This was important to remember, they

suggested, because it remained unclear whether Galton’s ‘correction’ actually found

the normal distribution in human populations he claimed it had. 135 Additionally,

133
Victoria Brignell, “The eugenics movement Britain wants to forget.” The New Statesman (December.
9, 2010) http://www.newstatesman.com/society/2010/12/british-eugenics-disabled; and “When America
believed in eugenics.” The New Statesman (December 10, 2010), http://www.newstatesman.com/society/
2010/12/disabled-america-immigration.
134
Curt Dudley-Marling, and Alex Gurn, The Myth of the Normal Curve. (New York: Peter Lang, 2010),
14.
135
Ibid.
 136

many statisticians continued to worry that many human traits and phenomena had

too many uncontrolled-for variables to be randomly occurring, and were therefore

inappropriate applications of the normal curve. 136 While the curve had enabled a

practice of labelling many types of people deviant, all of these considerations left me in

doubt about the meaningfulness of the concept of human normality that Quetelet had

claimed to discover, or the possibility of an orderly meritocratic ranking of any human

trait as Galton had claimed to discover.

The next display was a long, illustrated timeline painted horizontally along the

far wall, entitled “IQ – An Institutional Journey.” I learned how the normalizing curve,

despite these problems, fit well with interpretations of Binet’s work with intelligence,

and the concept of a measurable hierarchy of intellectual fitness became widely

popular with American psychologists. Under the energetic promotion of H.H. Goddard

who brought the scale to America, and who, despite Binet’s warnings, celebrated IQ as

a reified measure of hereditary intellectual fitness, intelligence testing was soon put to

widespread use. 137 Goddard and other social planners believed that a single,

hereditary gene was responsible for the phenomenon they understood to be

intelligence, and that it could be bred for as readily as early geneticists had bred for

desired traits in plants and insects.138 They felt that the nation’s fitness depended on

the careful breeding of its citizens in order to maximize intelligence and minimize

‘feeble-mindedness’.

There was a picture of soldiers in desks writing with pencils. A caption

indicated that, by the outset of World War, I intelligence tests had become so

popular as a tool for social planning, that psychologist R-M. Yerkes, was able to

136
Ibid., 15.
137
Gould, The Mismeasure of Man, 190.
138
Ibid., 192.
 137

persuade the army to test a hundred and seventy five million conscripts and

volunteers at the outset of the United States’ participation in World War I. The

data from this mass testing was used not only to rank soldiers for various

duties,139 but also to establish a base of supposedly objective data that vindicated

hereditarianism claims, and led to the Immigration Restriction Act of 1924,

which severely limited immigration from lands afflicted by populations seen as

genetically inferior.140

A caption below a picture of smaller people in desks, also writing tests,

indicated that during this same period, the keeping of educational statistics

began to emerge as a dominant practice in schools. Lewis Terman, a prominent

psychologist who’d worked for the army testing program and Columbia

University’s Edward L. Thorndike, while disagreeing on the ideal types of

intelligence tests to administer, felt that testing of all students was essential in

determining their potential for school success and making educational decisions

on their behalf based on these measures.141 The social efficiency movement in

education, or the idea of the mandate of the school to provide society with

“socially useful citizens” informed the use of academic tracking along ability lines

with the idea that these tracks would feed the students into appropriate

vocational pathways suited to their “mental, moral, and physical endowment”.142

139
Steven Noll, Feeble Minded in Our Midst: Institutions for the Mentally Retarded in the South 1900 -
1940. (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1995), 31. Likely due to the un-recognized
literacy requirements and cultural biases of the IQ tests used in the army tests 47.3% of all the recruits
tested in 1917 scored in the feeble minded range.
140
Gould, The Mismeasure of Man, 206.
141
Catherine Gavin Loss and Christopher P. Loss, “Progressive Education - Philosophical Foundations,
Pedagogical Progressivism, Administrative Progressivism, Life-Adjustment Progressivism.” Education
Encyclopedia State University.com.
http://education.stateuniversity.com/pages/2336/Progressive-Education.html#ixzz3AOYWZc1T.
142
Lewis M. Terman, The Hygiene of the School Child. (1914; Reprint, London: Forgotten Books, 2013),
2-3.
 138

While the timeline continued along the wall, there was a standing display

of quotes and pictures to my left. It was entitled “Menace of the Feeble-Minded.”

Reviewing this exhibit, I realized that while these developments, the one-two

punch of IQ testing and genetic theory did not bode well for people with the IQs

of the students I’d been hired to find – those deemed low average – they were

disastrous for the many individuals with levels lower than this. The widespread

theories of innate, measurable intelligence combined with eugenics to create, in

the words of Hunter S. Thompson, 143 a wide-spread and enduring fear and

loathing of those deemed intellectually deficient, the “’idiotic’ and ‘feeble-minded’

in the punitive vocabulary of the time. Goddard made the following comments on

the different types of threats posed by people with varying degrees of intellectual

impairment:

The idiot is not our greatest problem. He is indeed loathsome...

Nevertheless, he lives his life and is done. He does not continue the race with

a line of children like himself. . . . It is the moron type that makes for us our

great problem.144

I pieced together that this ‘problem’ Goddard perceived actually had two aspects;

so called ‘morons’ or ‘feeble minded’ persons, though capable of marginal

functioning in society, were seen as intellectually incapable of developing higher

moral sense and, therefore, prone to careers in crime and, in Goddard’s vast

exaggeration of the potential role of heredity in determining intelligence, they

were also seen as threatening the quality of the gene pool of the “race” in

143
Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the
American Dream. (New York: Second Vintage Books, 1998.)
144
Henry Herbet Goddard, The Kallikak Family: A Study of the Heredity of Feeble-Mindedness. (New
York: MacMillan, 1912), 101-102,
http://readingroom.law.gsu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1006&context=buckvbell. Kallikak is a
pseudonym.
 139

general.145 I got to the first realization by reading a series of quotations like this

in the display section on Goddard:

Not all criminals are feeble-minded, but all feeble-minded persons are at

least potential criminals…Morality cannot flower and fruit if intelligence

remains infantile.146

Beside the quote, a pair of eyes stared expectantly, as if to ask if their owner was

correctly following the instructions she’d been given by the photographer. They

belonged to a young girl in a white dress, primly posing for a photo. She had a

cat in her lap and an open book in her hands. I saw it was the blown up cover

photo of Goddard’s 1916 book The Kallikak Family. An accompanying summary

told me that it was a cautionary tale of how, during the American Revolution, a

revolutionary soldier of good breeding had a dalliance with a feeble-minded bar

maid. Though he subsequently married a respectable Quaker woman and had

many children of good standing, Goddard claimed to have found conclusive proof

that almost all of the one hundred and eighty descendants that sprang from this

soldier’s brief union with the bar maid were feeble-minded. Moreover, Goddard

claimed that these ill-bred descendants were more prone to infant mortality, and,

if they survived to adulthood, given to sexual immorality, alcoholism and

crime.147 Goddard contrasted the bleak outcomes of the majority of the Kallikak

children with the idyllic life of Deborah, a Kallikak descendent living out her life

“carefully guarded” from bad influences and from the possibility of “breeding”

more Kallikak descendants, residing in his Vineland Training School for feeble-

145
Ibid., 190.
146
in Ibid., 211.
147
Ibid., 18-19.
 140

minded boys and girls.148 As described by Goddard, Deborah had an ambitious

schedule of activities at Vineland including reading, writing and math lessons,

gardening, woodworking, sewing and music. One could almost have said the

descriptor suggested she was being offered a rather thorough vocational and life

skills training program were it not for Goddard’s intent to keep her permanently

institutionalized.

The next displays in the ‘menace’ exhibit suggested the pleasant

conditions Goddard claimed Deborah experienced were not typical of such

institutions at the time. As I saw from the pictures, the treatment of people with

intellectual disabilities in some institutions resembled nothing so much as the

contemptuous neglect shown towards the more generalized, indigent populations

during the great confinements of the classical era. These practices continued for

a long time in many institutions. On this theme, the ‘menace’ exhibit ended with

a provocative display about an American institution for intellectually disabled

children. Posing the question “1846 or 1966?” it provided the following quote

from an eyewitness:

Dirt and filth, odors, naked patients groveling in their own feces, children in

locked cells, horribly crowded dormitories, and understaffed and wrongly

staffed facilities … rooms with “groups of 20 and 30 very young children

lying, rocking, sleeping, sitting – alone. Each of these rooms were without

toys or adult human contact.”149

The horrific photographs, depicting such conditions, continued below the quotation.

Beneath this, the answer key on the next display depressingly read “1966”.

148
Ibid., 12.
149
Burton Blatt and Fred Kaplan, Christmas in Purgatory: A Photographic Essay on Mental Retardation
(New York: Human Policy Press, 1974), v.
 141

Despite my abhorred fascination with these exhibits, I realized that after

Jacques’ promising lead, I felt like I was losing the trail of the slow learners again.

Notwithstanding the likelihood the categories constantly bled into each other, the so-

called ‘feeble-minded’ might have tested a little below those who would now be

considered slow learners. Then again, so too might some of the students I met in the

investigation – the ones in the K & E class who said they were upgrading from a

program for students with intellectual disabilities.

I drove away from the exhibit and back to the timeline. Back in the early

nineteenth century again, I learned that as public education became the norm in

Canada and the United States in the late 1800s to early 1900s, it was accompanied by

massive increases in enrolments in special education (including large residential

institutions like Vineland) as a separate form of education for students with

disabilities. 150 For these students, eugenic sensibilities informed not only their

placement in separate institutions, but their treatment within these institutions.

I stopped and looked to my left, along the floor, at another brief exhibit. It was a

mannequin of a masked surgeon with gleaming, but antiquated instruments. I learned

from an informative plaque at his feet that, for the first half of the century onward,

particularly after mass IQ testing was pioneered, it became a legally sanctioned

practice in many countries to forcibly sterilize children and adolescents with

diagnosed intellectual disabilities. Reinforced by a 1927 Supreme Court decision in

favor of eugenics in the United States, 60,000 operations to sterilize disabled children

took place in thirty states before the practice was stopped in the 1970s.151 The Alberta

Eugenics Board approved the sterilization of 4,725 children diagnosed as intellectually

150
Winzer, The History of Special Education, 324.
151
Lucinda S. Spaulding and Deanna L. Keith, “The History of Special Education: Lessons from the
Past, Implications for the Future” Faculty Publications and Presentations, Paper 158 (2010), 30.
http://digitalcommons.liberty.edu/educ_fac_pubs/158 .
 142

disabled before 1972.152 There was a display case beside the surgeon that showed the

picture and biography of a woman from Alberta named Lelani Muir. I read that Ms.

Muir had, in the 1990s, successfully sued the Alberta government over her

sterilization while she was institutionalized as a child. Signed over at the age of eleven

by an abusive and neglectful mother to the Provincial Training School for Mental

Defectives in Red Deer, Ms. Muir was sterilized as an adolescent. She was told she was

being sent for an appendectomy. The institution took these actions on the basis of her

tested IQ of sixty-four, which placed her, in the vocabulary of the time, in the range of

a ‘mental defective moron’. From records of the case, this single test – the results of

which likely reflected a culturally impoverished upbringing – was apparently the only

evidence of an intellectual disability. She was doing well in her classes in the

institution, and was reported to be “talk[ing] easily and volubly” in an interview with a

supervisor.153 Later, after leaving the institution and benefitting educationally from the

opportunity to live as an adult in society at large, Ms. Muir had another IQ test and

this time scored eighty-nine, which I’d learned was highest possible score in the low

average (slow learner) range, or just one point shy of a score of average range. I

reflected that had she tested in this range initially, she never would have been

sterilized.154 I wasn’t proud of myself for thinking this, it was horrific that she was

sterilized regardless of her IQ, but it did show how tentative and arbitrary such

measures could be. Maybe, I thought, trying to be as generous as I could, that the

scores were helpful, as Binet had proposed in his more egalitarian writing, as a

tentative estimate of current functioning for the purposes of remediation. But as a

152
Douglas Wahlsten, “Leilani Muir versus the Philosopher King: Eugenics on trial in Alberta,” Genetica,
99, (1997), 190.
153
Ibid., 192-193.
154
Ibid., 195.
 143

justification for the state-sanctioned violation of citizen’s bodies? I wondered what

Michel would have to say about that.

Another sign pointed to a sectioned off exhibit about a program in Nazi

Germany titled “Aktion T-4.”155 The sign warned that it was disturbing, as if the rest of

the exhibit wasn’t. It was, without doubt, a part of the larger eugenics section, from

these same roots, but I didn’t think I could take much more, so I didn’t enter this

section, choosing to go back to following the timeline. I hoped I wasn’t leaving any

slow learners behind therein.

Where were the slow learners? Lelani Muir tested in the right range, but her

history of neglect and institutionalization seemed to suggest that even her best test

score might have been an underestimate. There was the enfant arrière label I’d seen at

the start of the measurement section, but that was before the tests were standardized.

Why was I unable to find clear examples of slow learners in this section? Where was

this border haunting Jacques had suggested I look out for? I reminded myself to look

specifically for this as I returned to the timeline. I finally caught a glimpse of a possible

slow learner in one of the comments of Lewis Terman regarding the concerned parent

of a child who had recently tested below normal:

Strange to say, the mother is encouraged and hopeful because she sees

that her boy is learning to read. She does not seem to realize that at his age

he ought to be within three years of entering high school. The forty-minute

test has told more about the mental ability of this boy than the intelligent

155
See Wright, Downs: The History of A Disability, p. 103. Aktion T-4 was a Nazi program to murder,
under the euphemism of euthanasia, disabled residents of German hospitals. It resulted in the killing of
between 75,000 and 95,000 adults with disabilities and 5000 children with disabilities before protests in
German churches and local communities resulted in the termination of the program in 1941. “Wild cat”
euthanasia centers to murder disabled people repeatedly continued to run in Germany throughout the war.
Though some disability historians have pointed to collective horror at Nazi atrocities as a point at which
many nations abandoned eugenics policies, others have pointed out that such policies continued well past
the end of World War 2, into the 1970s in Alberta and many American states for example.
 144

mother had been able to learn in eleven years of daily and hourly

observation. For X is feeble-minded; he will never complete the grammar

school; he will never be an efficient worker or a responsible citizen (1916).

The child’s IQ was seventy-five, currently seen as borderline, not an indication of

disability, 156 and potentially within the slow learner category as Williamson had

explained it to me. Terman’s ‘nevers’ sounded pretty vicious. I had read in the

programs of study for both K & E and its predecessor, the Integrated Occupational

Program that preparing the students for responsible citizenship was a primary intent

of programming, meaning that they were assumed to be capable of this. Compared to

Terman’s gloomy thinking, the literature I read from these programs had suggested

slow learners had a lot of potential. Was I wrong when, in the library, I thought these

programs sounded exclusionary? On the other hand, they were still forms of separate

programming based on students’ deficits in learning. Did they honor the idea that slow

learners had the potential to learn, or were they merely a much gentler form of

eugenics?

Just towards the end of the timeline, I saw the title, “Walks of Life.” I was

confronted by a few quotes by Goddard, and slowly another connection began to form

in my head. The first quote was from a recanting of sorts in which Goddard had

softened some of his views on the feeble-minded:

They do a great deal of work that no one else will do .... There is an immense

amount of drudgery to be done, an immense amount of work for which we do

not wish to pay enough to secure more intelligent workers .... May it be that

possibly the moron has his place.157

156
Task Force on DSM IV, Diagnostic and Statistical Manual, 48.
Henry H. Goddard, “Mental tests and the immigrant,” The Journal of Delinquency 2, no.5 (September,
157

1917), 271, in Gould, The Mismeasure of Man, 108.

 145

In another, he noted that, in terms of career hierarchies, “the people who are

doing the drudgery are, as a rule, in their proper places.158

In other words “the poor are poor because they are stupid.”159 A sucker for the

underdogs, I reflected on how all of this might function as one more way to stack the

deck against ‘the people doing their drudgery’, not only to muse on where their

‘proper places’ were, but to actually keep them there. Did the IQ tests sometimes

reflect the more privileged ways of knowing of their designers, and then tend to reward

those test subjects more practiced in these ways of knowing? Reasonably well trained

for polite society, I’d nevertheless occasionally had dispersions cast on my character

for using the wrong fork for the wrong dish and, similarly, I suspected the questions

that supposedly measured reasoning in isolation often got contaminated by relying on

this sort of insider knowledge.160 Aside from this, I wondered, seeing as how I’d read in

the library that the tests favored ‘abstract reasoning’, if ‘abstract’ reasoning really was

possible and if it was, how, other than by way of privileged cultural inheritance maybe,

did it come to be seen as the pinnacle of intelligence in the first place? I’d more or less

solved every case I’d been hired to investigate, but I wasn’t sure if I’d ever used it. My

reasoning was most successful when it was good and dirty with context. My mind

flashed back to the French Revolution image of the Goddess of Reason. A Goddess for

all, supposedly, but who did she really serve in this case? Seeing as how more

privileged students likely had experienced better life-long access to academic learning

158
Henry Herbert Goddard, Psychology of the Normal and Subnormal (1919; Reprint. London: Forgotten
Books, 2013), 246-7.
159
Nirmala Erevelles, “Rewriting critical pedagogy from the periphery: Materiality, disability and the
politics of schooling.” in Disability Studies in Education: Readings in Theory and Method, Ed. Susan
Gabel (New York: Peter Lang, 2005), 68.
160
See Gould, The Mismeasure of Man, 241 in which the author demonstrates how these army
assessments were culturally and economically biased. In one example subjects were asked to analyze
pictures of culturally specific activities such as tennis for missing features, the absence of which would
not be readily apparent to someone unfamiliar with the game.
 146

activities that developed their so-called abstract reasoning abilities, might this all not

feed back into a vicious circle where privilege was presented not in a democratically

unpalatable way, as a birthright, but as a reflection of merit in a mythic land where

everyone supposedly got a fair shot? Was the fix in all along? I felt like I was on to

something here.

Below Terman’s quote, in honor perhaps of our locality, was a quote from an

early vocational school program for slow learners in Calgary. It maintained its

mandate was not to serve “the bright pupils, but the dull, uninterested ones.”161 I felt

the case might be coming together again. Perhaps a new niche for slow learners, based

on their perceived potential to be the workhorses of their nation’s economies had

emerged.

161
G.W. Gordon, Report of Chief Inspector of Calgary Schools (1919) in Jo Anne Knobbe, “The
Inception of the Junior Vocational Program in Calgary public schools,” (master’s thesis, University of
Calgary, 1978), 33.
 147

XIV

I continued to follow the timeline around the bend, learning about further

refinement of IQ-based categorization and special education programming but, to

my frustration, again losing the trail of slow learners. I had come pretty far, at

least in distance, and thought maybe there would be only one more section of

exhibits on this floor before it rounded back to the entrance. Just as I was

beginning to wonder if I’d seen all the relevant history on this floor, something

from above jumped into my peripheral vision and made me slam on the brakes. It

was a large, hanging, silver ball with four thin protuberances sticking out like

spider’s legs. I wondered if my mind, unable to bear another image of oppression,

had forced me to hallucinate this object. It seemed as though it belonged in a

different institute. I rubbed my eyes and looked again. I was not hallucinating. I

realized the object was a life size model of Sputnik, humankind’s first artificial

satellite. I wondered what it was doing here.

A display case below the satellite contained several magazines from the

late 1950s decrying the American public education system in light of the lead the

Soviet Union had taken in the space race with the launching of Sputnik. 162 A

Saturday Evening Post headline that provocatively asked, “Can Ivan Read Better

Than Johnny?” caught my eye. The other magazines, late fifties editions of Good

Housekeeping, Vogue, Life, Ladies' Home Journal, Time, US News and World

Report, Look, Newsweek, and Readers' Digest all asked similar questions. 163 I

realized that at this point in the cold war, the space race was not a friendly

competition; it was a method of war by other means closely linked, by way of

162
Christine E. Sleeter, “Why Is There Learning Disabilities? A Critical Analysis of the Birth of the
Field in Its Social Context,” in The Formation of School Subjects: The Struggle for Creating an
American Institution, Ed. T. S. Popkewitz (London: Palmer Press, 1987), 215.
163
Ibid., 216.
 148

rocket technology, to the nuclear arms race. The panic that ensued after this

Soviet display of superior technology had resulted in widespread criticism of an

American education system that apparently had failed to produce scientists of

the ilk of the Soviet team that built and launched Sputnik. A clipping in the

display case from the magazine with the “Ivan and Johnny” title went so far as to

note:

What Russian students learn in school and what American students learn in

school may do much to determine whether the free world will check and

defeat Communism, or whether Communism will check and defeat the free

world.164

“This is all very interesting,” I thought, “but what does it have to do with the

previous exhibits about disabilities, or with slow learners?” Then, in another display

case, I read some of the specific criticisms of the American school system at the time

and about the ensuing curricular reforms that followed the Sputnik launch. I began to

understand. Educational planners, fearful that lax educational standards had caused

American children to fall behind, and concerned with augmenting the abilities of

American students to compete on the world stage, began to develop elementary school

curricula that were much more rigorous and difficult than they had been the previous

two decades. 165 Educational reformers recommended a three track system; an

accelerated program to prepare bright students for leadership positions in industry

and research, a track to prepare ‘average’ students for white collar jobs, and a track to

prepare slower learners for manual labor positions. Under this more rigorous

164 Arthur S. Trace Jr, “'Can Ivan read better than Johnny?” Saturday Evening Post, 234 no. 27
(May 1961), 30 in Ibid., p. 216.
165In Ibid., 218 Sleeter identifies a significant change in the readability of first grade textbooks

with the years 1944 until 1962 being marked by progressively easier texts and 1962 to the
early 1970s reversing this trend and the texts becoming progressively more difficult. Sixth
grade textbooks also became more difficult during these years.
 149

curriculum, it became natural for many teachers to assume that as many as a third of

the students in an elementary school class would be below grade level and unable to

handle the programs they were being instructed in. Achievement testing practices

increased to continually evaluate if children were meeting the new, higher curricular

standards. The move towards increasing rigor occurred as American schools, for the

first time, were dealing with the mandate to end formal racial segregation in

education.166 Despite the legal requirement of desegregation, minority children were

often assumed to be less capable and therefore re-segregated into their newly

integrated school’s special education programs.167 As school became more demanding

academically, white, middle class children, despite often being the recipients of

preferential treatment in schools, struggled more frequently with the revised

curriculum, and this became a concern for parents and educators. Many white, middle

class parents of academically struggling students did not want their children placed in

special programs with minority students, and many of the same parents were not

willing to accept the application of any of the four existing academic deficit labels,

mentally retarded, slow learner, emotionally disturbed, or culturally deprived to

their children.168

I read the descriptors of what educators during these times considered to

be the characteristics and predicted educational pathways for students falling

into these four categories. They all sounded quite negative. I could see why

parents wouldn’t have much interest in the application of any of these labels to

166
Ibid., 220.
167
See Nirmala Erevelles , “Rewriting critical pedagogy,” 77. By 1968, 60 – 80% of students in special
education programs in American schools were African American, Native American, Hispanic, non-
English speakers, and / or from economically disadvantaged backgrounds.
168
Sleeter, “Why Is There Learning Disabilities?” 221-224, emphasis added.
 150

their children. I read the description of slow learner from a leading expert at the

time:

Slow learners compose the largest group of mentally retarded persons.

Among the general school population, 15 to 17 or 18 per cent of the children

can be considered slow learners.169

That statement didn’t surprise me much. I had already studied that bit of categorical

shifting and realized slow learner was once but was no longer considered an

intellectual disability category. What interested me more was the following statement:

Preferred suburban communities where executive and professional persons

reside will have very few slow learners … The subcultural areas of large

metropolitan communities where the children receive little psychosocial

stimulation present quite a different picture …. Fifty per cent or more of the

children can appropriately be designated as slow learners.170

I wondered if the same measurements existed in feudal times if the statistic might

have read that ninety percent of the population were slow learners. It was an apples

and oranges thing and sort of a stupid, impossible thought, but I had it nonetheless.

The descriptor went on to suggest that slow learners were likely to experience regular

schooling as too difficult and eventually drop out. For these reasons they were better

served in a more remedial educational stream where they could gradually advance at

their own rate and not hold other children back. Slow learners were to be trained for

semi-skilled or unskilled occupations. Slow learners were likely to be followers instead

of leaders in society because they could not understand the subtleties of the social

169 G.O. Johnson, Education for the Slow Learners (New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1963), 9, in Ibid.,
223.
170 Ibid.
 151

order.171 I wondered how many of these assumptions still informed current thinking

about students thought to be slow learners.

I continued my tour of this section and next came to a sign that said

“Learning disability – The birth of a label.” A caption below explained how, since the

1900s, some physicians, psychologists and educators had been interested in the idea

of an organic defect, a form of brain damage, that severely impacted people’s reading

abilities while having no impact on their overall intelligence or reasoning abilities. I

had heard the word ‘dyslexia’ before, and recognized it among the list of labels that

researchers were using at the time to describe this sort of disorder. 172 Other labels

included 'brain injury' and “psychoneurological learning disorders.”173 This research

had gathered steam over the fifties and sixties and had begun to receive popular

attention. Both Newsweek and Reader’s Digest had published articles about reading

impaired but normally intelligent children and the interventions that were thought to

hold the promise of curing them. These included exercises that were said to stimulate

new brain cells to take over the role of the dead cells during reading.174

To many parents of struggling students, particularly more privileged parents,

this was a more tolerable label. It did not imply global defects in their children’s

intelligence and it did not suggest their children were falling behind due to deficiencies

in how they, as their children’s primary educators, had prepared them for school.

Unlike the labels mentally retarded and slow learner, assumed to describe life-long

deficits, it was thought at the time that this particular disability might be curable.

Institutionally, the addition of a new disability category also reinforced a conservative

agenda of locating school failure as a defect in individual children instead of

171 Ibid., 224.

172
Ibid., 224.
173
Ibid.
174
Ibid., 230.
 152

questioning an educational system that, at the bidding of military and business

interests, had begun to leave more and more students behind.

I toured through the gallery and saw a display chronicling the growth of

advocacy groups consisting of parents of children diagnosed with this recently

discovered disability. A series of black and white pictures showed people gathered at

meetings, sitting in folded chairs, filling Styrofoam coffee cups from aluminum urns,

and looking intent as they listened to expert speakers. A caption below the pictures

read:

[P]arents in various states … banded together to form organizations with

names such as ''Minnesota Association for the Brain-Injured Child', 'Fund for

Perceptually Handicapped Children', and 'Michigan Children's Neurological

Development Program'. These organizations served as support groups for

parents, networks for disseminating information, and pressure groups for

making physicians and educators more aware of 'normal' children with

severe reading problems.175

Further displays went on to explain that, at a large conference that brought together

parents from a number of these advocacy groups, Samuel Kirk, the most prominent

researcher in the field, proposed the label ‘learning disabled’ to describe this

population of students. The label stuck. I next drove past time-faded periodicals now

using the title learning disabilities, and black and white pictures of newly formed

learning disability classes in schools.

An accompanying list of statistics explained that the majority of test subjects in

studies of learning disabilities at the time, parents in learning disability advocacy

groups, and students placed in learning disability programs in the United States were

175
Ibid., 228.
 153

white and middle to upper class. The logic of this theory of the category’s emergence

very nearly overwhelmed me.

I was beginning to wonder whether the learning disability label had more truly

administered to political problems in institutions than organic deficits. Was it real? I

thought I might have to discuss that with Williamson. Running counter to my

thoughts about how socially constructed this label seemed, the artifacts I’d seen of

some of the early research about reading disabilities had seemed, if a little speculative,

robust enough. The pioneers in the field, it seemed to me, had identified real

similarities in the reading problems of many individuals who otherwise presented as

normally intelligent. Regardless of the empirical validity of the category, though, it did

appear on the educational scene at a certain time and in a certain way, and what I

had viewed certainly helped me understand the particular assumptions behind its

emergence. It also helped explain the impression I very clearly got, from my earlier

research in the library, that in the impairment pecking order,176 slow learners were

less valued than students with learning disabilities.

As I was leaving this section, I heard a piercing siren followed by a low –

pitched hum. The main lights in the museum went out and dimmer emergency lights

painted the gallery in shadowy illumination. I smelled smoke. I kept going for a

minute, figuring I was nearly round the floor, but I was driving into an increasingly

thick cloud of smoke. By now the sprinkler system had engaged but it only added to

my confusion about what was up ahead. I turned the scooter around to go back the

way I came. I saw flames start to lick the exhibits I had just seen as I retreated from

the Sputnik section and reversed my course along the timeline asking the scooter for

more speed than it was prepared to offer. I made it under the bell curve a split second

176
J. T. Hall, Social Devaluation and Special Education: The Right to Full Inclusion and an Honest
Statement? (London: Jessica Kingsley, 1997), 19.
 154

before it crashed to the floor. I saw Jacques and Michel rushing to find me. They told

me the elevator was out of commission and we had to get to the stairs. I got out of the

scooter and, supporting myself on both of them, hobbled as quickly as I could. We

descended the three flights, a choking, cursing journey, my leg absorbing each step

with the pliability of an old dry two-by-four. We made it past the burning admission

desk and out into the frozen darkness – how long had I been in the museum for? The

few staff members on duty were already mustered in the parking lot; it appeared we

had been the only visitors. Some fire trucks arrived but it was too late to save the

building, and the frozen foothill it was built into didn’t need much saving. There were

probably other such museums but no one would be coming back to this one. After

what I had seen I wasn’t sure I would have wanted to come back anyway. Wet, cold,

and stinking of smoke, in the intermittent warmth of the Peugeot’s heater, we watched

the museum burn until all that was left was a pile of smoldering grey, like a lower row

of rotten teeth in the gaping mouth of the foothill. There wasn’t much to say.

Jacques and Michel drove me back to the restaurant where we had met, and

did me the further kindness of driving the Buick back to the hotel for me so it might

be available to me when my leg recovered enough that I could drive. My companions

had been responsible for the most recent injury I had experienced on this case, but

this was more than cancelled out by their saving me from the inferno. What was more,

I could see they had been right. There was no way I would be able to find slow learners

in this current setting without the benefit of seeing where they and their many

companions in disability classification had come from. They hadn’t exactly given me

the straightforward break in the case I was hoping for all day, but I was finally starting

to understand how complex and dangerous all of this was. I had a million questions
 155

for them but couldn’t clearly think of a single one. I was tired and disoriented and

needed time to think.

We planned to meet up the next morning, at the restaurant nearest my hotel, to

discuss the case. They offered to help me in, but my room wasn’t far from the front

desk and I thought I could hobble there. It occurred to me I should warn them to be

careful too. They’d been seen helping me, and between the choking in the library,

being tailed, and the likelihood the fire had something to do with the case, I’d faced a

lot of danger over the last two days. Unfortunately, that thought only struck me as I

watched the tail lights of the Peugeot begin to fade into the darkness.

I asked for a plastic bag at the front desk, filled it with ice from the machine,

and limped to my room. I peeled off the stinking suit and wrapped a threadbare

blanket around myself. I took a few pills, poured a double and sat and dutifully iced

my injury despite the unpleasantness of the cold. I thought hazily about the case. I

must have nodded off for a while; when I woke up, I noticed I was still holding the

remainder of my drink but my home-made icepack, now half melted, had fallen to the

floor. Transferring myself to the bed, I slept deeply despite the throbbing pain in my

leg and my growing sense that Williamson had been right to hire me – slow learners

had been in danger for a long time.

 156

XV

It was the first day of school for the new semester. I was at the back of the

class. At the front of the room, a featureless black cloud, in vaguely human form,

was shouting ‘Max Hunter’ over and over again, but the affirmation I was expected

to give stuck in my throat and the angry cloud just kept shouting my name.

Waking from my dream, I realized that the cloud was the door to my room

and, in fact, there were two voices shouting my name and pounding on the door.

I shouted, semi coherently, that I would be right there. I looked at the clock

beside my bed and realized I had overslept. I was ten minutes late for my

breakfast appointment with Jacques and Michel. I must have forgotten to set my

alarm clock in my drugged exhaustion the previous night. That wasn’t like me. I

staggered to the door and peered through the peephole. Two figures in suits bad

enough to make it obvious they were plain clothes cops glared back at me. I

opened the door and they walked into my room.

“Are you Max Hunter?” the first asked unnecessarily. Two beady eyes,

sunk into a round cold-reddened face, glared at me. I replied to the affirmative.

“Mr. Hunter,” the other began. He was a full head shorter than me, and

two shorter than his large, round partner, but he looked wiry and alert. “I am

Detective Gimlet, and this is Detective Bennet. We are looking into the

disappearance of two renowned professors.”

I must have shot him a baffled glance. Gimlet continued, “It’s well short of

the twenty four hours we normally wait for missing persons investigations but

the circumstances are very strange. The conference organizers who called us said

that they had been asked by the professors to juggle their speaking schedules.

They said they had been approached by a local educator and asked if they would
 157

assist in some sort of mystery that he and a detective he hired were investigating.

They were both interested in helping, and arrangements were made for them to

take the afternoon and early evening to assist in the investigation.”

I couldn’t stand any longer. I asked if I could sit on the bed. They

exchanged glances and Gimlet gestured his consent. Bennet took over from

where his partner left off. “They had both promised to attend a celebration later

that night, but neither of them showed up. The organizers were worried. Both

had keynote addresses later today. The organizers tried to reach them in their

rooms this morning. They did not respond to phone calls. The organizers

contacted the hotel staff who knocked on their doors, and eventually opened up

their rooms. They concluded that they had not returned to them since the

previous day.”

“What does all this have to do with me?” I asked, playing dumb.

Gimlet now regarded me with contemptuous patience. I’d changed

categories in his thinking after my last remark. “What we do have,” he said

pedantically, “is a 911 call made after a black Peugeot was seen colliding with a

pedestrian of your description outside a restaurant yesterday afternoon and a

security camera video of the same vehicle driving you up to the front entrance of

this hotel last night.”

“Where did you go with them after the collision?” Bennet demanded.

“For medical attention, and then to another diner to talk about the case,” I

replied. I didn’t want them liking me for an arson charge too.

Gimlet asked me what the name of the diner was. I said I was woozy from

the medications and couldn’t recall. Bennet asked what the case I was

investigating involved and I said that was between me and my client. He followed
 158

up by asking if anything suspicious had happened so far, something that might

help, I said it was the dullest case I’d ever worked and I expected to be leaving

the city soon.

Just then Bennet got a call on his mobile phone. He stepped back a few

steps and turned sideways. He stood up straighter and mumbled a few

questions, and, nodded out of habit despite being involved in a phone

conversation when he got the answers. “They just pulled a black Peugeot out of

the Bow River.”

Gimlet informed me they were hauling me in as a material witness. I was

given five minutes to get dressed, a painful process. A grape-colored bruise

occupied about as much space on my leg as Canada does on the map of the

continent. Every step filled me with searing pain, but I refused any help on the

walk to from my hotel to the car. After a short drive and a hobbling walk through

a parking lot, I was brought by the two detectives into a perfectly square brick

building and seated in a small, painfully bright interview room with my back to

the door. The detectives remained standing, glaring at me.

I heard lumbering steps and then the door opened behind me. A bear of a

man plodded in and walked to the other side of the small table. He was even

taller than Bennet. He looked likely to burst out of his brown slacks and shirt.

His red tie looked more like a leash on his tree stump of a neck. His bulk

suggested a layer of fat concealing a thicker layer of muscle underneath. He had

gnarly, strong-looking hands, and thick forearms burst out of rolled-up sleeves.

As he leaned into my face, I got a generous view of a red nose full of burst

capillaries, and more hair jutting out between his ears and nostrils than on his

head. He dismissed Gimlet and Bennet who exchanged more glances on the way
 159

out. I wondered what that meant. He introduced himself as Captain Trent. “I

don’t have much use for philosophers,” he growled, “but no one murders visiting

intellectuals in my city and gets away with it. You may confess now.”

This wasn’t good. I wasn’t sure if I’d make it out of this room with enough

sense left to finish the investigation if I wasn’t careful, I’d seen his type before.

“I’d like to cooperate,” I stalled, “but I want to make sure my statement gets

recorded right. Can we get someone from the public defender’s office to help us

out?”

Something large whistled through the air and nearly took my head off.

From the floor, I saw Trent rub his knuckles. My ear rang as I pulled myself

painfully back into the chair. A little seed of rage hatched inside me and began to

grow, but I needed to stay cool, I told myself.

“Why did you do it?” Trent demanded.

I changed my mind about disclosing our presence at the fire. Maybe if he

had to reckon with my statements related to another crime, one with its own

investigator, he’d be more cautious about how he handled me. “I didn’t do

anything. I don’t know where Jacques and Michel went after but where I last saw

them was at the disability research institute on the outskirts of town. The one

that is built into a giant foothill, or at least it was before last night. It burned

down when we were visiting it. Probably arson. We made it out. They dropped me

off at my hotel.”

He considered this with growing incredulity. “I’ve never heard of the place

or the fire.” I wasn’t sure if I believed him or not. “And I think you’re stalling.” His

lack of curiosity was troubling. I was in for it no matter what, I thought. The best

I could do was go down protecting the case.

 160

Trent then asked me who my client was and, figuring he knew already

from what the other two detectives said, I told him, “Williamson.”

He asked me what Williamson had hired me to investigate. I thought it

might harm the investigation irreparably if I told him that much, so I braced

myself and I said, “Fat, lazy cops with hairy fists who ask lame questions and are

too illiterate to know where their city’s museums are.” It wasn’t one of my best

cracks, but it nevertheless made him think for a minute. Then he reached down,

grabbed the leg of my chair and yanked it towards himself throwing me

backwards to the floor again. I landed awkwardly on my bruised leg. My body felt

impossibly heavy as I got to my feet again, but I tried to hide it so he wouldn’t

have the satisfaction.

He reached into a drawer on the table and pulled out a pen and a pad of

paper. He slammed the items down in front of me. “That’s enough with the

games,” he warned. “I want a detailed statement of everywhere you’ve been and

everything you’ve done since you arrived here. Start writing.”

Resigned to my fate, with surprisingly steady hands I did a quick sketch of

a pair of lips with a zipper fastening them shut; it was sort of juvenile but I had

been spending a lot of time in schools lately and that was the image that came to

mind. Then I wrote out a short rebuke for him – two words, seven letters. Then,

below this, I wrote, “I want a lawyer.”

Trent watched with a bemused expression as I composed my statement.

When I was finished he remarked, “You really are a slow learner.” He got out of

his chair, stood over me, rolled his right shoulder a little and planted his feet. I

was beginning to wonder if I should say some final prayers just in case there was

someone up there to hear them, or if I should stay hard–boiled to my last breath.

 161

Then a curious thing happened. Trent appeared to be moved by some other

consideration. He relaxed his posture and even sniggered a little, sounding

disagreeably like air draining out of a wet inner tube. He picked up the phone in

the interrogation room and summoned the two detectives who brought me in.

Then he told them to lock me up in their holding cell and see to it that I was

transferred as soon as possible to the city’s remand center to await charges. I

wasn’t sure if it was the power of prayer that saved me, since I never quite got

around to it, but a wave of relief washed over me and I felt for a second like I was

floating. It was followed by a wave of hurt as injuries new and old formed an

army and hit me all at once, and then things got hazy.
 162

XVI

I remember little of my time in the holding cell. I must have been

concussed again. After a while I was rounded up, handcuffed, and placed on a

bus to take me down to the remand center. It must have been a slow day for

crime because I was thankfully the only occupant. It was a large, spider shaped

institution, almost completely grey on the outside. I was led, limping, inside. The

color palette continued, it was like being inside a storm cloud, minus the

humidity. Grey floors, grey ceiling, and grey bars. I was given grey clothes and

grey bedding and taken to my cell. It was reasonably clean. It had a grey cot, a

metallic grey toilet, and concrete floor that maintained the drab pattern. I was,

thankfully, the only occupant. I laid on the bed. My leg and head throbbed in a

two/four rhythm.

At first I only dozed and hurt, but my thoughts soon came into tighter focus. I

considered the new companions who had assisted me on this case and saved my life.

Where were they? Were they safe? Could I do anything to assist them? I considered the

case so far. Williamson had hired me to find the slow learners, or rather the proper

place for the educational category of slow learners. It had been difficult during my

investigation so far to keep this distinction straight, and I had often found myself

trying to pursue actual students who might be considered slow learners instead. I had

been to two schools and talked to five teachers, including Williamson, and a small

class of students who may or may not have been slow learners. I had found out quite a

bit about these Knowledge and Employability courses. Then there was the museum. I

couldn’t quite piece together how what I had learned there fit into this investigation.

The bleak displays of exclusion, confinement, and eugenics seemed a dark and

haunting legacy for any current practice that sought to label and categorize students
 163

even for educational purposes. Then again, what I had witnessed at the disability

institute was so extreme; it seemed to clash with other things I had seen in the

schools. I thought of Williamson’s ‘learning centre’ where he had supported the

student with his mechanics assignment, and the floor hockey game that suggested

students with intellectual disabilities were routinely included in intramurals. What I

had seen in the museum clashed as well with the insistence of the K & E teachers that

these students could learn and achieve a great deal. But, more broadly, were the

current services and supports for labelled students that I was beginning to investigate,

as the defense lawyers say, still fruit of the poisonous tree of human sorting? Were

they kinder, gentler ways of exclusion?

My meditations were interrupted by two voices. I saw that they belonged to a

uniformed guard and a prisoner coming toward my cell. It wasn’t the sort of hostile

conversation I might have expected. They were debating and laughing amiably about

football, the guard extolling the virtues of the rules of the Canadian league and

prisoner arguing that America’s National Football League had superior rules and

entertainment value. With the press of a controller, the prisoner wheeled himself into

the cell and actually thanked the officer as he slid the bars closed.

I guessed the new prisoner to be in his fifties from his medium length hair and

neatly trimmed grey beard. He studied the contents of the cell. “That’s what I’m talking

about,” he noted approvingly as he gestured to something that had escaped my

attention; the hand railing along the wall beside the toilet. “Universal Design for

Incarceration. You don’t see many cells like this.” I shifted to a sitting position on my

cot to better regard my new cellmate. A spasm of pain shot through my leg, but then

went away. I didn’t have anything to add to his comment about the cell’s accessibility;
 164

despite my usually keen observational skills. I wondered why I hadn't noticed the

railing. Instead, I asked him what he was in for.

“I got one of my assistants to chain me to a chair in the hall of the legislature.

There’s been some deep cuts to disability services in this province. I came up to help

out in the protest.”177

“And this was the result,” I stated, referring to his incarceration. Despite my

efforts to use my time wisely going over the case, I was still disturbed to be locked up.

It bothered me he didn’t seem disturbed as well.

“It’s no big deal. I did five years of hard time as a teenager at a school called the

Sam Houston Institute of Technology, I like to call it SHIT for short, for the crime of

Muscular Dystrophy. This is a luxury compared to that.”

“How can going to a special school be worse than getting arrested and sent

here?” I asked.

“Look, I’ve been arrested for civil disobedience twenty other times before. The

cops are usually pretty gentle with cripples, it looks really bad if they’re otherwise. In a

way, cops are more scared of protesting cripples than of the Mafia and the Chinese

triads combined. Compared to the sadistic therapist who tried to teach me to walk at

SHIT, the guards at places like this are like big teddy bears.”

His usage of the word ‘cripple’ bothered me. I tried to say so. “I’m a P.I.

investigating a case that has to do with disability …,” I began.

177
See David J. Climenhaga, “Alberta Tories respond to protests by disabled citizens with instinctive
diversionary attack,” Rabble.ca: News for the rest of us (2012), http://rabble.ca/blogs/bloggers/
djclimenhaga/2013/06/alberta-tories-respond-to-protests-disabled-citizens-instinctive.
When the provincial government of Alberta recently cut 42 million dollars from the P.D.D. budget, funds
that support the community living of adults with intellectual disabilities, 1000 people with intellectual
disabilities and other concerned citizens protested outside the provincial legislature in Edmonton, with
smaller protests outside the Premier’s constituency office in Calgary, as well as in Red Deer, Lethbridge
and Medicine Hat. Max’s fictionalized fellow prisoner was a part of this protest.
 165

“You must be very skilled,” he interrupted, referring I think to where I had

ended up. I felt a flash of anger. My cellmate was a smart ass.178

“And,” I persevered, “I’m starting to learn about how, with all the negative

assumptions they carry, how damaging some of the old-fashioned words for

disability can be. I’m not sure you should be throwing words like ‘cripple’

around.”

“Who the fuck are you to tell me I can’t say cripple?” my cell mate retorted,

showing me, to my consternation, none of the collegial manners that he’d shown

the guard.

“Whoa there gunner,” I shot back, “I’m on your side here. I’m investigating

the disappearance of a group of sort of disabled students, slow learners. I’ve been

all around the disability community. I’ve been to the disability museum. I’ve seen

the pain all this sorting and exclusion has caused disabled people. I can’t tell you

how sorry I felt for them, how poorly things were handled, how angry it all made

me.”

“How what was handled?” My cell mate was glaring at me.

“You know, the …” suddenly, I didn’t know what to say.

“The burden?” he insinuated.

“That’s not what I said,” I protested.

178
This character is a fictionalized version of the satirical blogger Smart Ass Cripple, who is himself an
exaggeratedly autobiographical literary alter ego of journalist Mike Ervin. I have attempted to replicate
the sarcasm and artful profanity of Ervin’s literary creation as well as his (Smart Ass Cripple’s) expressed
views on certain disability issues, directly quoting on occasion. I thought it would be illuminating for
Max to talk to this character. Though Ervin gave me his blessings for this meeting of characters, I did not
interview him on his views on slow learners. What follows is extrapolation only, based on his writing in
the blog.
 166

“Well, what else does one handle? I am a burden to society,” he leered. “I

once added up all the taxpayer costs for my assistants, my pit crew to help me

take a leak, sit on the crapper, get dressed, and brush my teeth …”179

“I don’t need to hear about this,” I remarked.

“And I don’t need your sympathy, or help from anyone who thinks I need

to be handled.”

“I didn’t say you needed to be handled,” I clarified, though I didn’t think it

would do me much good. Then, in exasperation, I asked, “What is your problem

anyway? Like I said, I’m on your side here.”

“On my side? On my side? Let me tell you a little story about someone

else who said he was on my side. Remember the Jerry Lewis Telethon.”

My mind flashed back to many past Labor Days when I bypassed this

maudlin event with my television remote control.

“I was one of Jerry’s Kids,” the prisoner continued. “One of those cute

kids with MD he paraded across the stage to get people to feel sorry for them and

make donations. Then in the 1990s, when I was a grown man and not so cute

anymore, I read an article that Jerry Lewis had supposedly written from the

perspective of someone with MD. In the voice of this character he made up he

said he become resigned to having to live life as ‘half a person’. That infuriated

me, and many of my friends too. We began staging protests at the telethons. That

whole antiquated approach, the massive charities, the emphasis on pity and

institutionalization, the idea that we have nothing to contribute unless we could

179
Smart Ass Cripple, “A Burden to Society,” Smart Ass Cripple (Jan. 30, 2012)
http://smartasscripple.blogspot.ca/2012/01/burden-to-society.html.
 167

somehow get cured of our disabilities. It’s badly hindered our efforts to speak to

real disability issues like accessibility.180”

“Jerry,” continued the prisoner, using the Christian name sardonically,

“wasn’t so appreciative of our input. After I started protesting, he called me a

dissident. Then he said about all the protesters ‘if you don’t want to be pitied

because you’re a cripple in a wheelchair, stay in your house!’ Then he said, ‘Fuck

Them’ in an interview in a national magazine in further response to our

concerns.181 That embarrassment of a telethon is still running, but at least the

Muscular Dystrophy Association scaled back its playing length, de-emphasized

the pitiful tone to the thing, and, most importantly, finally pressured Jerry to

step down.”182

I was beginning to understand my cell mate’s prickliness to my previous

statements, and regretting my choice of words from earlier, I did something I

rarely do. I apologized. He accepted this and we shook hands and exchanged

introductions. He asked me to call him Smart Ass Cripple or SAC for short,

which I found odd until he explained that was the handle he went by on his blog.

Reflecting on his story of being one of ‘Jerry’s Kids’, I found myself remembering

the picture of the forlorn-looking slow learner on the cover of the book that I’d

read. This book bore the most categorical description of what slow learners were

like. It was like the book was saying a slow learner was half a student too. It

seemed like SAC was telling me about a form of treatment that made people with

180
The Kids are All Right, directed by Kerry Richardson (2005, Chicago: The Paul Robeson Fund for
Independent Media, 2005), DVD.
181
Ibid.
182
See Richard Zoglin, “Why did Jerry Lewis leave the telethon?” Time (Aug. 16, 2012):
http://entertainment.time.com/2012/08/16/why-did-jerry-lewis-leave-the-telethon/. Lewis’ sudden
departure from his roles as telethon host and MDA chairman was announced by the MDA as a retirement,
but other sources reported him ousted.
 168

disabilities disappear as people, even as they were found as targets of pity. I

wondered if this ever happened with slow learners. I asked him if I told him the

story of my case more slowly if he might be able to give me some advice.

“I don’t know much about this category of kids you’re talking about–

though I did write on my blog about some of the other state-run schools for

students with disabilities. My favorite was the Massachusetts School for Idiotic

and Feeble-Minded Youth. I wondered if anyone in the outside community would

offer a venue for their prom. Imagine the Holiday Inn Marquee, “WELCOME

PROM FOR THE FEEBLE-MINDED.” 183 SAC’s voice rose in fantastical

speculation and, though still feeling a little stung from my prior scolding, I

grinned despite myself. It was a relief hearing this disgusting label that had

informed so much of the oppression I’d learned about in the museum being

wielded so sardonically. It drained a little of the poison out.

Returning from this tangent to the topic at hand SAC said, “Sure, I’ve got

nothing better to do. Tell me about your case and I will see if I can help.”

So I took SAC through the whole case, from Williamson’s original

desperate call through my travels, injuries, interviews and meditations. “Wow,”

he remarked. “That’s quite an adventure. And you say you still can’t find the slow

learners?”

“Not really. I’ve come close to finding them several times, but every time I

think I have them they slip through my fingers. None of the teachers I talked to

gave me a clear sense of where exactly the slow learners were. I came pretty close

in the classroom I visited, but in talking to the kids I realized that, technically,

everyone in this class was probably in the intellectual disability category and

183
Smart Ass Cripple, “The Feeble Minded Football League,” Smart Ass Cripple? (January 23, 2012):
http://smartasscripple.blogspot.ca/2012/01/feeble-minded-football-league.html. Capitalization in original.
 169

technicalities aside, they seemed too complicated to all be called slow learners.

Plus a lot of the things they said seemed pretty apt, not slow at all. I thought I’d

found traces in the museum, but disability was understood so differently back

then it was hard to get a clear sense.”

“Understood?” SAC interjected. “Is that how you still see it despite all your

experiences in this case? Disability isn’t just understood by society, it’s created

by society.”

“What?” I blurted. “That doesn’t make any sense to me. Disabilities are in

people.”

“Are you so sure about that?” he asked. “For too long we’ve focused on the

medical model, calling a disability a defect, a problem in the individual. This

leads to obsessions with curing the disability, excluding the people with

disabilities, making all kinds of decisions on their behalf and at best a charity

mentality in those who think they are trying to help us. These defects in thinking

are societal.”184

I thought of my travels through the museum. Looking at the situation

through the lens my cell mate had just provided me, I realized that in every

exhibit I saw it was difficult to separate the actual disability from the (usually

negative) cultural response to it. The shifting ways disability was understood over

time was good evidence of this point. The medieval idea of idiot was different from

the categorical construct of the same name the early twentieth century IQ

pioneers had come up with, and the learning disabled child was a very recent

invention altogether. I still thought he was taking things too far though. “I see

184
Phil Smith, “Introduction: Whatever Happened to Inclusion: The Place of Students with Intellectual
Disabilities in Education,” in Whatever Happened to Inclusion: The Place of Students with Intellectual
Disabilities in Education, Ed. Phil Smith. (New York: Peter Lang, 2010), 8.
 170

your point about culture,” I offered in partial concession, “but disabled people

have disabilities.” That sounded lame and circular as soon as it came out of my

mouth, and, in fact, he rolled his eyes as soon as I said it.

SAC sighed, and then went into an explanation. “Well, some people have

some functional impairment. They need help, though it’s not just them. All

people regardless of disability need help with some things if you think about it,

even though most of us are too individualistic to admit it. I once read, “What is

universal in life, if there are universals, is the experience of the limitations of the

body.”185 We all get along by using tools to compensate for our physical limits,

living together in communities, and helping each other out. But the forms of help

cripples, for example, require has been a symbol of defect, an excuse for

exclusion. Institutions have often failed to acknowledge that we need to realize

the same basic rights for participation that everyone else gets. They have deemed

us incapable of participation or deemed our inclusion too expensive. Or they have

said we have to be cured before we can participate. I, for one, have nightmares

about getting cured. I make my living telling cripple jokes on my blog.”

I ignored the wisecrack and thought about the rest for a minute.

Remembering that slow learner wasn’t a disability category, I still thought I saw

that medical model he was talking about at work in the definitions of slow

learner I’d read. “I can see that in my current case,” I admitted. “Slow learners

are excluded from regular classes because of their so-called ‘slowness’. Maybe

the remedial classes they are placed in try to cure their slowness so they can

participate in regular schooling. But is that a bad thing?”

185
Lennard J. Davis, Bending over Backwards: Disability, Dismodernism and Other Difficult Positions
(New York: New York University Press 2002), 32.
 171

Before SAC could reply, I added a broader question, “If some disabilities

are curable or treatable what’s wrong with funding and researching and working

on cures and treatments?”

“Well, nothing in one sense. Some of these things might be required for a

person with a particular disability to participate in society at all or even to

survive. But you always have to ask who the treatment is actually for. As for

cures, the same thing can be said. Sure some conditions can be cured but

around twenty percent of the population in the country where I live have

diagnosed disabilities. Does this mean that any so-called uncured person in this

group is an incomplete human being? I remember, Jerry Lewis once held up a

kid with M.D. during a telethon and said, ‘God goofed up – it’s time for us to fix

his mistakes.’186 What about curing society from a particular disability by getting

rid of people with that disability? Like curing deafness and as a result getting rid

of deaf culture or curing dwarfism and Down Syndrome by preventing these

people from ever being through genetic screening. I once wrote something like

‘I’ve always been tempted to form an exclusive cripple fraternity called Coulda

Beena Borted.’187

The last part of his rant had me cringing and smiling all at once. It was

fascinating listening to SAC, I thought he would have made a pretty good

detective. Still, somewhere during our conversation, I wondered if we’d strayed

too far from the thread of what I asked for his help about. “Ok, I get the medical

model stuff now,” I said, “but do you think any of this might help me find slow

learners?”

186
The Kids Are All Right.
187
Smart Ass Cripple, “Coulda beena borted,” Smart Ass Cripple (July 2, 2012):
http://smartasscripple.blogspot.ca/2012/07/coulda-beena-borted.html.
 172

“It might help you better understand the ways in which schools create

slow learners,” he asserted, “and how to transcend these definitions and consider

what their inclusion and participation might actually look like in a school setting.

I’m no expert but I know what it doesn’t look like … SHIT, the Sam Houston

Institute of Technology I was telling you about earlier. Participation, inclusion for

me, [means] when you know if you need equipment, you can get equipment – you

can get wheelchairs, when you know that you can get accessibility in your

environment, that your personal and public transportation is accessible and

available, when you need the assistance of others in terms of attendants and you

know that whatever you need in terms of physical assistance to get through your

day that it’s going to be there and you won’t have to be broke to get it, when you

know that those things are in place and you can complete your day successfully

with the help of others and call your own shots and accomplish what you want to

accomplish, when all that support is there, people that I’ve seen tend to view their

disabilities as no big deal.188 Find a way for whatever these kids struggle with to

become no big deal to them.”

Suddenly SAC abandoned his eloquence and demanded, “Why the fuck

are you looking at me like that?”

The ongoing novelty of this case for me was not good for the poker face I

try to keep as a key investigative tool. I was feeling a strong current of admiration

at SAC’s last statements, and my countenance must have betrayed me. Why this

angered him I had no idea. God, he was touchy, either that or he was just

enjoying making me squirm. However I offended him now, I didn’t want to

188
The Kids Are All Right.
 173

aggravate the situation further by saying anything. Maybe I’d over estimated how

much common ground we’d negotiated.

He glared at me for a full two minutes. Finally he said, “There’s something else

you need to learn if you want to avoid making things even worse for slow learners than

they are already.”

I asked him what it was, and all he said was, “Later.” We lapsed into a long

silence. I wondered what I had done to end our conversation on such a sour note and

what this new thing he thought I needed to know so badly was. After a while, SAC

stopped glaring at me and his eyes glazed over in deep contemplation. I wondered if

that was the same sort of look I had when I was starting to put a case together.
 174

XVII

A buzzer rang signifying, as a prisoner who walked by told us, a couple of

hours of recreational time.

“Follow me,” SAC ordered, jamming the controller on his motorized wheel

chair forward. He was out the door and half way down one of the halls before he

observed I wasn’t with him and he circled back and waited as I struggled out of

my cot and began to walk gingerly in the direction he had initially gone. He

accompanied and accommodated me, now manipulating his controls for minimal

speed. I wished I had the scooter I used at the museum but then I realized it

might be good to get some strength back into my leg. I thought I might have to

kick someone with it before the case was done.

“What the fuck happened to you?” SAC asked as I hobbled down the hall

beside him.

“Choking, wrestling, falling, Peugeot accident, smoke inhalation,

interrogation,” I listed.

“All that trouble from looking for a category of children in schools,” he

mused.

“More dangerous than you might think,” I asserted.

“You must be one hell of detective,” he mused again. “Maybe next week you’ll lose

your car keys and get a broken jaw from looking for them.”

I let the Smart Ass have that one with nothing but a deadpan “Maybe so,”

in response. He turned right then and I followed. We entered a small but

surprisingly well stocked prison library.

As soon as he got a look at the place, he zipped up and down the aisles

like a demented warlock assembling ingredients for a nasty brew. He had

 175

grabbed a book and two DVDs and, annoyed these items were on a higher shelf

with no apparent means of access for him, impatiently demanded that I retrieve

two more items, another book and another DVD. Then he zoomed over to a

computer station, and entered two pages worth of demographic information

and clicked through a multi section user agreement to log in. A couple of

guards stationed at the back of the library regarded all this warily. I hoped he

wasn’t planning on going on any sites that would be harmful for his conduct

record at the institution. I was a little confused as to why they were even giving

two new prisoners computer access unless it was for purposes of entrapment.

“What’s your favorite Helen Keller joke?” SAC asked me.

I couldn’t think of any but said that I’d definitely heard some.

“This isn’t the main thing I wanted to show you,” he said, “but it just came

to me that one way that verts …”

I must have stared at him in confusion.

“As in vertical, which is the proper term for a person who can walk,” 189 he

clarified, “communicate about disability is with lame-ass jokes. Whenever

someone sees me in my wheelchair and says you better slow down before you get

a speeding ticket,” I wish to hell I had a marching band hidden behind the nearest

bush. I’d cue the band to march out blaring a raucous tune while encircling the joke

perpetrator. And then I’d throw confetti in the air and say, “Congratulations! You

are the one millionth person to tell me that joke!”

To illustrate how this same complaint applied to the category of students I

was dealing with, SAC began an internet search of “slow learner jokes.” This was

the first one that came up.

189
Smart Ass Cripple, “Where’s the keeper?” Smart Ass Cripple (Sep. 14, 2012):
http://smartasscripple.blogspot.ca/2012/09/wheres-keeper.html.
 176

Why does Sea World have a seafood restaurant –I'm halfway through

my fish burger and I realize, ‘Oh My God ... I could be eating a slow

learner!’” 190

“That’s not very helpful,” I said. “It’s not even the right species.” Then I

remembered all that social Darwinism stuff and I wasn’t so sure. He pulled up

another one:

A teacher called upon the classroom to make sentences with words

previously chosen.

The teacher smiled when Pete, a slow learner, raised his hand to participate

during the challenge of making a sentence with the words Defeat, Defense,

Deduct, and Detail.

Pete stood thinking for a while, all eyes focused on him while his classmates

awaited his reply. Smiling, he proudly said, ‘defeat of deduct went over

defense before detail.’191

“That’s not really slow either,” I said. “This kid used what little homespun

vocabulary he had better than anyone in class might have used the real words. If

anything he was too practical. Besides, how much can a couple of stupid jokes

really mean?”

“You know what Freud said about jokes,” SAC offered.

I found my poker face again for that comment. I had gone to college. I even

went to some classes. But I only sort of knew. I knew more clearly that the

190
Unknown, “Comedian’s Best Lines 1997.” Laugh Break. Accessed September 1, 2014.
http://www.laughbreak.com/quotes/comedians__best_lines.html .
191
“Best Jokes About Slow,” Ribald.net (2014): http://www.jokebook.eu/jokes/slow/best.
http://www.jokebook.eu/jokes/slow/best.
 177

throwing and receiving of wisecracks on the streets I roamed was a complex

martial art that one’s credibility as an operative depended on mastering.

SAC widened the search to ‘slow learner insults’.

We came to the example I remembered from the Minister of Education in

Alberta, the one that I’d read about in the restaurant. He had used ‘slow learner,’

applied to himself as a sort of reverse insult to accuse his opponent of being

obscure.192 I told SAC that in my own practice, I sometimes pulled the Columbo

act too,193 pretending not to understand things I understood well in order to lure

suspects I was questioning into revealing more information than they wanted to.

I’d recalled saying, “Forgive me for being such a slow learner, but ….” before

launching into an inquiry that was fatal to the alibi of some cutie who figured he

was too smart to get caught.

“Clever,” SAC remarked. I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

Next we read about how, when President Obama repeatedly told American

corporations and citizens that going to Vegas was an irresponsible move during

the recent economic crisis, the mayor of Las Vegas called him a ‘slow learner’. In

the mayor’s opinion, Obama had failed to realize the impact his words might

have on the city’s tourist industry.

“How can ‘slow learner’ be missing in schools like your client says it is? It

looks like it’s all over the place everywhere else,” SAC remarked, echoing a

mystery Williamson had earlier identified.

192
Alberta Teachers’ Association, “McQueen Wonders”
193
“Columbo’s Great Investigative Style,” 4:33, YouTube video, from the Universal TV television
episode “Death Hits the Jackpot,” televised December 15, 1991, posted by stndrds 1979,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZiv8vkxMac&spfreload=10.
 178

“I didn’t believe him about schools at first either,” I said, “but there’s

some evidence to support the claim. It really isn’t out there very much in

schools. At least not in the open.”

“What are schools then, cultural fallout shelters? How can it be out in

broader society, but not in schools?” SAC demanded.

“That’s an interesting question and I don’t know the answer,” I admitted,

“but that’s not what I’m trying to find out. I’m looking for slow learners in

schools, period. How is all this pop culture stuff going to help with that?” I didn’t

want to spend the whole recreation period reading jokes and quotes and be left

with nothing to take away to help me with the investigation.

“Okay, okay,” SAC relented. “I’ll get to the point. I just find this all kind of

interesting. Let me show you the main thing I wanted you to see.”

He then Googled ‘slow learners on television’ and we were rewarded with

a file on a media site that spliced a bunch of videos clips from popular television

shows.194 I watched Homer Simpson, Ray Romano, Peter Griffin, Hank Hill, and

Al Bundy parade across the screen to rapturous canned laughter and applause.

What did any of this signify and was it relevant to my case? I looked at SAC and

opened my hands in a gesture of confusion.

“That was just a taste,” he said. With that, he inserted the DVD of Forest

Gump into the computer’s disk player.195 He advanced to a scene depicting some

I.Q. politics; that is, a mother’s parental advocacy ‘saving’ the titular slow learner

who had tested on the cusp of having a full-fledged intellectual disability from

being placed in a special education classroom. The bell curve that I’d been

194
No such montage video exists on-line. I made it up. All these characters are, arguably, depicted as
slow learners though.
195
Forrest Gump, directed by Robert Zemeckis ? (1994, United States: Paramount, 2001), DVD.
 179

learning so much about made an appearance when Forrest’s borderline

intellectual functioning was dramatically illustrated as the principal patronizingly

pointed to what ‘normal’ cognitive functioning was, and then pointed to the

bottom margin of an oversized page to show Forrest’s score. Williamson had

described a very similar practice of an educator or psychologist pointing to a spot

on the bell curve while explaining the results of intelligence testing to a child’s

parents. Forrest’s mom initially inquired about what ‘normal’ really meant, but

when she saw she wasn’t getting anywhere she took a less theoretical approach

by having sex with the principal in exchange for his reversing the placement. I

went and saw the film when it came out, I thought it wasn’t bad, but I had

forgotten about that scene.

“Now check this out!” SAC demanded, shoving a book at me. His thumb

was on the section he wanted me to read.

The book was called Lottery. In the section I was skimming over, Perry, the

protagonist, was saved from being diagnosed with an intellectual disability when

his Grandmother said he was too sick to be at his best on the day he’d written

his first, low scoring, I.Q. test.196 She demanded a retest and prevailed over the

protestations of school district personnel. Perry scored one point higher and

avoided the categorical diagnosis of intellectually disabled. SAC then bade me to

turn back and read the very first sentence of the book Lottery. “My name is Perry

L. Crandall and I am not retarded.”197 Then he showed me some parts where Perry

and his friends repeatedly corrected anyone who confused his slowness with an

intellectual disability. Next he pointed out a part where Perry read about a

convicted murderer on death row who had the opportunity to mount a legal

196
Patricia Wood, Lottery (New York: Penguin, 2004), 35.
197
Ibid., 1.
 180

defense of incapacity based on an I.Q. in the sixties, but who chose to remain on

death row instead of publicizing his disability. 198

“I get it,” I said. “Being a slow learner is depicted as better than having an

intellectual disability. I already knew about this hierarchy. Of course it appears

in books and films.”

“It’s not that simple,” SAC said. “Look how Lottery and Forrest Gump

emphasize how narrowly each protagonist qualifies as normal or non-disabled.

Perry escaped the diagnosis of disability by a single point and Forrest gets to be

non-disabled because his mother looks hot to the perverted arbiter in charge of

deciding such things. And even though they are not technically disabled, their

being slow is still shown as a pretty sad state a lot the time.”

He advanced to a scene when Forrest was informed by his on again / off

again love interest Jenny that they’ve had a child together. He tearfully asked, “Is

he smart, or is he like,” before proving unable to finish his statement verbally

and pointing nervously to himself. Then, he showed me a part in Lottery where

Perry tried to do his laundry and house cleaning by himself for the first time after

his grandmother who used to help him with these things passed away. He ended

up flooding the house and bursting out in tears.

“And when it isn’t sad, being slow is goddamn funny, I mean in the

laughing-at sense.” SAC showed me another scene from Forrest Gump. This time

Forrest was part of the collegiate All-American football team. He was being

honored at the White House. He failed to fully grasp the gravity of the situation

but was impressed by the free food and beverages. He drank fifteen free Dr.

198
Ibid., 34.
 181

Pepper soft drinks. Then when greeting President Kennedy, Forrest blurted, “I

gotta pee.’”

“Hilarious,” remarked SAC flatly. And then he exchanged DVDs in the

computer. This one was a film called Being There that I’d seen as a much

younger man. 199 I vaguely recalled it was about somebody named ‘Chance’, a

middle-aged ‘slow’ person whose whole sheltered existence had consisted of

gardening and watching television. He got cast out into the real world when his

wealthy benefactor died and Chance was evicted from the mansion. In the scene

SAC played for me, Chance, when confronted by a group of African-American

muggers, took out his television remote control, pointed it at a mugger, and tried

to change the channel away from the unpleasant scene in front of him. He was

surprised when the muggers remained present.

“That’s a good one,” SAC commented. “Racist too.”

By then he’d rapidly skimmed to another passage in Lottery for me. Perry

was on a trip to Hawaii. Of all the natural and cultural wonders available to him,

he seemed most excited by the chance to relieve himself in a high altitude

lavatory during the flight to their destination.

“I get it, I get it,” I insisted to SAC, “but why so many examples? I already

know that the label provokes feelings of ridicule and superiority. Many of the IQ

scientists I saw in the museum practically jeered at anyone they considered to

have less than normal intelligence in their writing.”

“It gets worse,” SAC warned me. Then he popped Forrest Gump back into

the computer and navigated through a bunch of scenes in short succession.

These were all very different than the buffoon-type scenes we’d just watched and

199
Being There, directed by Hal Ashby (1979, United States: United Artists, 2009), DVD.
 182

I wondered why SAC had a problem with them. Forrest was a private in the army

amazing his drill sergeant with his obedience and his ability to assemble his rifle

in record time. Forrest, in soldier garb, was embracing Jenny, who was clad in a

flowing hippy-style dress, in front of the Washington monument during an anti-

war protest, symbolizing a moment of peace between the two factions, as the

crowd cheered. Forrest was inspiring John Lennon to write the lyrics to Imagine.

Forrest was sporting long hair and beard and running across America for some

reason.

“Jesus in Nikes,” SAC quipped. Then he showed me a passage from Lottery

and then, barely giving me time to finish, ripped the book out of my hands and

flipped to another part and shoved the book back at me. His face was contorted

with disgust, his eyes and hands flew like he was possessed by a speed reading

demon. In the scenes SAC pointed out, Perry had won millions in a lottery but

was besieged by greedy relations who were after his fortune. Perry, in a moment

of clarity, gave away his fortune, not because he was duped, but as an act of free

will that seemed wiser and wiser as the novel progressed. Despite their

manipulations, the dysfunctional relations really did need the money more than

he did, and his act of generosity cleansed his life of their demands and

interference.

SAC ripped the book out of my hand and slammed Being There into the

computer again. He shot through a bunch of scenes where Chance was talking to

people, laying down a ‘simple brand of wisdom’ on every one he talked to, except

that he didn’t know he was being wise at all. All he was doing was making literal

statements about gardening that everyone misread as brilliant aphorisms about

the economy and politics. In the end, he was being considered as a midterm
 183

replacement for the president. In the last scene, inexplicably, he walked on

water.

“Look!” SAC said. “He’s a slow learner Jesus too!” and then he threw up

his hands. One of the guards looked at us suspiciously.

“I don’t get it,” I complained. “What’s your problem? I mean it’s all a bit

cheesy but these are all positive scenes. How can this be worse than the ridicule

in all those other parts?”

“Yeah, but it’s all this superhero shit. There’s even a word for it in the

disability community – the supercrip stereotype. I need that like I need a hole in

the head. The same kind of thing happens in real life stories, the sort of

inspiration porn the media always shows about people with disabilities. I was in

the audience of an Oprah episode one time, I wrote about it on my blog. She did

an inspirational piece on a woman with no arms. She was driving a car with her

feet, changing her baby’s diapers with her feet, doing with her feet everything the

fully-limbed do with their hands.”200

“But that is impressive,” I argued. “Why shouldn’t a story like that be

celebrated?”

“Because how are you supposed to convince people you want to live an

ordinary life like everyone else when they’re of the mindset that everything you

do, ordinary shit like eating breakfast, is heroic? That’s worse than the jokes.

Whatever you do, don’t make these slow learners appear as heroes. They’d be

better off staying lost.”

And with that, I finally understood why my look of admiration back in our

cell had angered him so much. After a respectful pause, I began to protest that

200
Smart Ass Cripple, “Oprah’s death squads,” Smart Ass Cripple (Jan. 21, 2011):
http://smartasscripple.blogspot.ca/2011_01_21_archive.html.
 184

I’d read about how people with disabilities were sometimes regarded with awe,

like symbol of grace in earlier cultures and about how the mad and the palace

fools always got the best line in Shakespeare. SAC just waved me off.

“The kind of shit I just showed you is not that. And even if it was, a time-

honored stereotype is still a stereotype,” he insisted.

I wasn’t sure I agreed, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t see how arguing

this point would be helpful for slow learners.

He sighed and said, “That’s all I got. I don’t know what else to tell you, I’m

no expert. I hope you find these slow learners, or actually like I said, maybe I

don’t. From what you’ve told me about the way things have gone until now, I’m

not sure finding them will benefit them much. Maybe you should keep it to

yourself if you find them. Have you considered that?”

I admitted that I hadn’t. I said I wasn’t sure how my paying client would

feel about this suggestion, but I didn’t always do what my clients said when

issues of justice were involved. He nodded. A buzzer rang for head count and we

put the items back on a return cart and made our way back to the cell. The walk

took a while with my injury and our having to fight our way through the rest of

the prisoners returning to their cells. We fell to talking of other things, none of

which I remember, but I remember it as pleasant despite the throbbing in my leg.

I was appreciative of SAC’s advice and I hoped it would help with the case, but as

we neared our cell, I remembered that if I really wanted to find the slow learners I

had to get back on the outside to do it.

 185

XVIII

When we got back, Trent was standing in our cell, like a bear that had

taken over a cave. A shiver crawled slowly down my spine, like a tarantula on a

Sunday stroll. Trent told me I was being released and to go with him. I was too

surprised to say anything.

“Max here has told me about your methods,” SAC jumped in. “How do we

know it’s safe for him to go with you?”

“Tell your friend to mind his own business,” Trent growled to me.

“I get it, we’re playing address the vert. Well tell this guy he’s an asshole

and we’re not letting you go with him,” SAC instructed me, looking defiantly into

Trent’s eyes.

Trent surprised me by appearing more worried than enraged. He looked

around for where the video surveillance was, turned his hulking back to the

camera to inhibit sound recording or even lip reading, and quietly, through

clenched teeth said, “My bosses don’t even know I’m here. We gotta get you out of

here now before they figure us out. No time to explain.”

There was something in his urgency that struck us both. Maybe not

enough, but something. SAC raised his eyebrows, and then sort of shrugged

indicating it was up to me. I took a leap of faith and began to follow Trent out of

the cell. I stopped and turned to SAC and said, “So long friend,” and I added a

piece of advice I have trouble following myself, “Stay out of trouble.” I started

walking again.

“Hey Hunter,” he called, and as I glanced back one more time he slowly

raised his middle finger at me, grinning. I took this as him wishing me good luck.
 186

I was limping too slowly for him, so Trent grabbed my shoulder and began

to drag me. I objected and he ignored me. He dragged me down a hall, past a

checkpoint with a sentry with whom he exchanged grim pleasantries, and to a

station where I signed for my possessions and was asked to exchange my grey

jumpsuit for the rumpled clothes I’d been arrested in. As I was changing, Trent

growled for me to hurry up – a guard told him to relax and Trent gave him an

impossible instruction in reply. We cleared the final gate, and Trent dragged me

even faster across a parking lot. He threw me in the back of a big brown

unmarked cruiser, slammed the door shut, and tore out of the parking lot before

I could assume a sitting position in the back seat. After I recovered my balance I

realized Williamson was sitting in the front passenger seat. His eyes widened in

relief, and he managed a weak smile but he didn’t say anything.

“I’m gonna get busted down to crossing guard for this,” Trent grumbled.

“Why are you doing it?” I managed.

“I’m sorry about the other day. I had orders. Orders I couldn’t refuse. Past

misdeeds held over my head. I didn’t want to interrogate you, but they insisted. I

held back, though. Then I looked for a way to make it right.” He took a hard

right, nearly knocking me over in the back seat again.

“Didn’t feel like it to me,” I noted.

“The treatment you got wasn’t my A-game. Not even close.” Trent replied.

I shuddered at that.

“They wanted you comatose in a prison infirmary awaiting trumped up

charges you couldn’t answer to.”

“You nearly got me there. What stopped you?” I asked.

 187

“The act you pulled in the interrogation room reminded me of how my kid

acts in school. Then I heard myself calling you a slow learner, which is what

they’re always calling him. Oh, he’s squirrely all right. It’s hard to get him to do

anything he doesn’t want to, and he’s got a smart mouth on him, too. Sometimes

the things he says make me laugh in spite of myself. I’ve never had much luck

talking any sense into him, but that slow learner thing is trumped up, it’s just

been an excuse not to try harder to work with the little brat. When I heard myself

call you that and I thought about your case, I realized it was too important to let

the institution shut it down.” Trent said that last bit with something like

conviction.

Something wasn’t right. “But I didn’t tell you anything about the case,” I

protested.

“We already knew all about the case. You’re about as subtle as a

jackhammer with your methods. You attract attention.” He chuckled, sort of. It

was a horrible sound.

Williamson, who on account of being out of his element had remained

nervously silent until now, offered something up. “Officer Trent told me Jacques

and Michel are fine.”

“Yeah. They’ll be okay, aside from hurt feelings,” Trent confirmed. “Once

the video of the three of you surfaced, they were rounded up and sent on the first

flight back to France. The authorities around here don’t mind if they speak at

conferences and bring in tourist dollars, but the minute they start poking their

noses into the way things work in our institutions ….” He didn’t finish his

sentence.

“Who burned down the museum?” I demanded. “Was that an inside job?”
 188

“Beats me,” Trent replied. “That line from the good book about alms-giving

– don’t let your right hand know what your left hand is doing. Change hand to

tentacle and add about six more of them. And then change the part about alms-

giving to alms-keeping, but still with the other tentacles being none the wiser.

That’s how the institution operates.” Williamson and I exchanged glances over

that one.

We drove for around three quarters of an hour, south of the police station

where I’d been held, and past my hotel, and if I was piecing the directions in the

layout of the city together, past Williamson’s school too. We arrived at what looked

from the outside to be a non-descript suburban house. I realized it was Williamson’s.

Trent asked Williamson if he was sure we’d be safe there.

“I don’t have much experience with this, but out in the light is probably the

safest place for us,” Williamson replied. Trent nodded. We all got out of the car. Trent

opened the trunk and retrieved my suitcase for me. “Supposed to be in evidence,” he

said. I thanked him and took it, but the weight made me stumble. Williamson took it

for me.

“Good luck,” Trent said. “I hope you find some justice for these kids.” He shook

Williamson’s hand. I saw Williamson wince a little at the strength of his grip. Then

Trent said, “No hard feelings,” and offered his hand to me. It took all the resolve I had

to accept it when I caught a full view of that huge paw of his again.
 189

XIX

Entering Williamson’s front door into a living /dining room area, I noticed some

family pictures. I asked where the rest of his family was. His wife, he said, was still at

her job and his daughter was at a friend’s house. There was bit of hesitation in his

voice when he said this. I wasn’t sure why. I sat down at the kitchen table, and cleared

out a space to rest my arms by moving some of the documents and books that littered

the table to one of the chairs instead. Demonstrating strong competencies with a

toaster and microwave oven, Williamson made us some bacon sandwiches and, with

apologies for not having anything stronger, he got a couple of beers out of his

refrigerator too. After a few bites and a few gulps, I reflected that I was beginning to

feel ‘normal’ again. Then, reflecting on my experiences with ‘normal’ lately, I thought,

more precisely, that I was beginning to feel a renewed sense of personalized

equilibrium. I was beginning to doubt if I had much of a handle on what normal was.

Williamson shoved another pile of books to the side and joined me at the table.

When we were finished eating, Williamson explained how Trent had contacted

him about my arrest and that they had hatched the plan to release me into his

custody. Now that I was in a position to answer to charges in a public forum, Trent

had figured that whatever the authorities had tried to pin on me would be quietly

withdrawn. I filled Williamson in on all the developments in the investigation since our

last meeting. He listened intently, nodding in agreement and smiling when I told him

about the students I met at the school. He looked troubled when I told him what I’d

seen at the museum. Then he got very quiet and just stared at his hands when I told

him what Smart Ass Cripple had said about the medical model and charity models of

disability and slow learners maybe being better off lost. He didn’t even laugh when I

repeated a couple of SACs more memorable lines to him.

 190

“If you look at it that way, that’s what I do all day, I guess,” he finally said.

“Create and distribute disability.” It sounded to me like he was feeling sorry for

himself.

“Maybe you need to get your job title changed.” If he was going to beat up on

himself, I thought it might be fun to pile on too. But then he just kept morosely

staring at his hands, as if he had built all the sorting machinery himself and only

discovered how dangerous it was to operate it once it was out on the market maiming

everyone. I thought he was being too hard on himself, and further, that his moping

would slow down the investigation, so I tried to offer up something to assuage his

conscience a bit.

“That can’t be all you do,” I mused. “Even if you aren’t exactly replacing or

fixing the system, don’t you at least try to use it to the advantage of the kids you work

with? The system I work in,” I offered, “seems designed to unleash justice for my

clients in the same way the claw of a hammer is designed to open a beer bottle. You

know, not a recommended usage. But if you fumble around enough and then apply

some force at the right moment, sometimes you get somewhere.”

Williamson thought about that for a minute and then smiled a little. He held

up a document. “You see this?” he said. “I was working with this girl who wasn’t a very

strong silent reader. So we started reading her exams out loud to her and she started

doing much better. She was pretty perceptive if she could hear the words too. I mean

she could read silently to some degree, but she just needed that little bit extra for the

subtleties of the questions to really register with her. But the problem was, she didn’t

have any diagnosed disabilities on record and her grade twelve diploma exams were

coming up fast. So I talked to her for a while about this and it came out that she’d
 191

been in a car accident and experienced pretty bad whiplash, with neck and back pain

and headaches. So we got her coded as having a medical disability.”

“Were the headaches causing the reading problem?” I asked.

“I don’t think so,” Williamson replied. “Her reading comprehension grades were

pretty low even before the car accident. She probably wasn’t a very good silent reader

even when she was healthy. But I was able to use her whiplash to get her disability

coding which got her audio CDs as an accommodation for her diploma exams.

Because that’s what her real problem was, academically, silent reading.”

Something occurred to me, based on what I’d learned so far. “Couldn’t one of

your district psychologists have tested her to see if she had an actual reading

disability? Why the indirect route?”

“The indirect route was more direct,” replied Williamson. “It is expensive and

time-consuming for the district psychologists to test students and there’s no

guarantee that just because we observed she handled assessment better that way, it

would show up as a formal learning disability in a formal psycho-educational test and

qualify her for accommodations.”

“Do you do that sort of thing often?” I asked. Williamson had peaked my

interest with that story.

“Sure, a lot of kids seem to need accommodations they could only get through

having a disability, like extra time on tests, for another example. They just need that

bit more time to do their best work. The diploma exams have strict time-limits, and

some teachers impose pretty strict time limits on their in-class assessments too,

maybe because they want to follow the model of diploma exams.”

I remembered one of the teachers I sat with in the school I visited saying

something like that too, teachers not only teaching to the test, but copying the test in
 192

the format of most of their assessments and running their accommodation-granting

policies on those of the diploma exams. Williamson continued, "I just encourage them

to see their family doctor and say they have test anxiety and get a note. Then we can

say they have emotional disabilities. I’ve gotten some kids who were probably slow

learners accommodations this way, whereas they wouldn’t have qualified due to being

slow learners.”

“Williamson!” I scolded, though more in amusement. “Isn’t that taking

advantage?”

“I don’t know,” Williamson replied. “If the accommodations were really a validity

threat to the exams they wouldn’t allow them for anyone. I’m just using the tools I

have to make a rigid system a little more flexible for the kids who need it. Besides,

most of the kids who require a little more time probably do have test anxiety. I’d be

anxious too if I knew someone might take my work away before I was finished with it.”

I thought of another question, though I was reluctant to ask it just as I was

getting Williamson to cheer up a bit. But before we took this way of playing the system

he was describing out on the road, I thought we better look it over and kick the tires.

“But doesn’t that get you back to creating disability – like you were so sad about just a

minute ago.”

“Yeah, I suppose it does,” he replied, sounding a little deflated again.

“I guess that’s one way to reduce the stigma of disability, though,” I said. “Code

everybody as disabled. What would normal have to say about that?”

We contemplated this ridiculous possibility over our beers. I unthinkingly

shifted position a bit and a pain shot through my leg. I must have winced visibly.

Williamson noticed this and took a good look at me. “I’m sorry you’re getting so

banged up working this case,” he offered, “but I warned you it would be dangerous,
 193

especially proceeding the un-methodical way you have been. I’m worried, I don’t want

you to disappear too.”

“You’ve talked about the danger many times,” I observed, “and I’m beginning to

see what you mean. But who is responsible for all of this danger? It’s all been shadows

until now.”

“It’s often hard to say,” said Williamson. “Trent said the authorities.”

“Which authorities?” I asked.

Williamson had no answer for that. Putting that concern on the back burner, I

asked him what all the books were for.

“Kind of like your cold case files,” Williamson smiled, taking pride in dropping a

bit of detective jargon on me, though in reality I’d only ever heard the term on

television. “These books are all from between the 1950s to 1980s when people still

used the term ‘Slow Learner’ a lot more openly. I’d prefer something more recent, but

there really isn’t that much being written about slow learners in contemporary

educational research. Even if you weren’t interrupted by a chokehold in the library,

you wouldn’t have found much more than you did. We need to go through these texts.

We still need to learn more about how this category was established.”

“Why?” I demanded. “I’ve already spent too long with my nose in books during

this case. I need to get out there – I need to interview the living!”

“But you said that, except for a few fleeting glimpses, you had trouble finding

slow learners in the museum,” Williamson pointed out. “These books are about slow

learners specifically. Maybe we can trace the category and the programming for the

category right up to its confusing present.” I heard an echo of Michel in that

statement.
 194

Williamson picked up a thin green and white book, dated 1967 along the spine,

which bore the coat of arms and the Latin inscription Vim promovet insitam.201 He read

out loud to me:

A great advance was made when the slow learning child was accepted as

being handicapped, not merely a child who was being naughty, difficult or

lazy … very often the learning difficulty will be secondary to emotional

problems. … Duller parents may sometimes though not by any means

always be poorer home-makers the child’s background may lead to

emotional difficulties secondary to social problems. 202

Williamson turned the book over with its face still open.

“Yeah, same exclusionary stuff I read in the museum. Made me want to

puke when I saw how bad it was,” I remarked.

“Not so fast,” warned Williamson. “I find a lot of the content distasteful, no,

more than that, offensive. But after making the statement about ‘dull parents’, it goes

on to warn against stereotyping students and admits that so-called ‘dull parents’ are

also often perfectly loving and attentive. It says that other family dynamics – such as

unreasonable expectations in ‘ordinary’ families with children of drastically different

ability levels in schooling – can cause as many emotional problems in slow learners as

the intelligence levels of the parents.

“So what,” I said. “Sounds like it’s just speculative details to support the same

ruthless sorting I’ve been learning about since I started this case.”

201
“Instruction increases the natural power of the mind,” which is the motto of the coat of arms of the
University of Bristol in Wikipedia “List of Latin Phrases V” September 10, 2014
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Latin_phrases.
202
W. Lundsen Walker, “Emotional Problems of the Slow Learning Child,” in The Assessment and
Education of Slow Learning Children, Ed. Roy I. Brown (London: University of London Press, 1967), 31.
 195

“Well, yes,” replied Williamson, “but the authors also go on to talk a lot about

misplacing students, underestimating students, and whether an IQ test is a measure

of innate ability or acquired ability. And this other book,” he said, indicating a small

red book with gold lettering, dated 1957, “has several case studies of children who

were misdiagnosed with disabilities and/or misplaced in special education. It actually

reads Let us be clear in our minds that a student may be educationally subnormal and

yet rightly retained in ordinary school.”203

“The red book comes out as critical of special education?” I asked.

“Not especially. The author firmly believes in IQ as the best means of comparing

a child’s intelligence to that of the general population, and that it is worthwhile do so.

He favors clear distinctions between educable and trainable children with intellectual

disabilities. He believes in separate classes, and separate schools and even residential

schools depending on the level of intellectual disability, and the outright exclusion

from schools of children with more severe intellectual disabilities. These were all

features of the system at the time, and he clearly supports them. Much of this he

writes about with an ‘everybody knows’ attitude, actually sometimes he literally says

‘everybody knows’ describing the various features of the system. A lot of it reads to me

as quite odious.”

“Then why not condemn the author, throw him on the refuse pile with all

the other bigots I learned about at the museum?” I asked.

“He also says the rules need to be applied generously and flexibly, with a lot of

wiggle room for the complexity of some students. Even though he believes in the

usefulness of IQ, he acknowledges the possibility of error and some imprecision in the

process. He says a great deal of care is needed in how all of the decision-making about

203
M.F. Cleugh, The Slow Learner: Some Educational Principles and Policies? (Aberdeen: The
University Press, 1957), 7.
 196

student programming gets done. Even though he’s in favor of special classes in

schools for students with milder learning problems, he also worries that the existence

of this kind of special class will result in the risk of the school dumping too many

students into the special class instead of being more flexible and accommodating in

the ‘ordinary classes’.

That rang a bell with me, and I then understood why Williamson was

reluctant to wholly disregard the book. It also gave me another question. “Those

sound like the same concerns you and some of the people I’ve interviewed have

had, and that I pieced together in the later parts of the museum,” I observed.

“But why are these problems still happening fifty-five years after this book came

out?”

“There have been some massive changes in special education,” Williamson

asserted “but you’re right to some degree. The actual referral process for

identifying and programming for students with special education needs that this

book describes is very similar to what is still in use in Alberta’s schools.” 204

“Okay, so the finding and losing of special needs students hasn’t changed

much. How does knowing this help us find slow learners now?” I asked. I was

getting irritated with Williamson. I’d lost time when I was locked up, and the trail

wasn’t getting any warmer now as we leafed through these faded books.

“Well, I find it interesting how much the category has shifted over time.

Did you know that slow learner used to be used as a broad category of all

children with intellectual disabilities? Then it was used to describe children with

what we would now consider mild to moderate intellectual disabilities and finally

it came to mean the in-between level it is now, the intellectually low average

204
See Alberta Education, Standards for Special Education, 6-10.
 197

students. From what I can tell, slow-learning children might at one time even

have meant all the kids in the broad category, even as a ‘slow learner’ was also

one discrete level in the broader category.”205 Williamson was really getting into

this trivia.

“How does this help us find slow learners now?” I demanded, more firmly

this time.

“I’m getting to that,” said Williamson. His crisis over the value of his work

forgotten for now, he seemed a little more confident here, in his own house,

poking around these old books that we were supposedly investigating together,

even though he’d already found all the parts he wanted to show me. I wasn’t sure

I liked this change. He pointed to another three books. “These books are from the

seventies and eighties. The definition doesn’t seem as tied to intellectual

disabilities anymore. There is still a lot of talk about slow learners, but it’s

becoming less clear in the texts exactly who these kids are or what they need.”

Illustratively, he held up a large purple book entitled Strategies for

Success: An Effective Guide for Teachers of Secondary Slow Learners. “Despite the

title,” he noted, “the authors rarely use the words slow learner in the text of the

book. In the index under slow learner, it says, “Low Achiever.” The book begins

with a cautionary tale. It’s about an underprivileged girl named ‘Brenda’, doesn’t

say if she was a case study, a memory, or a fictional invention. After some early,

‘against the odds’ success learning to read in grade one, she fell behind due to

several weeks of school absences, and failed to thrive throughout the rest of her

schooling. She became a truant, marijuana user and eventual dropout. She

Howard M., “Slow learner” in Encyclopedia of Special Education: A Reference for the
205

Education of the Handicapped and Other Exceptional Children and Adults, Ed. Cecile R.
Reynolds and Elaine Fletcher-Janzen? (Hoboken: John Wiley and Sons, 2007), 718.
 198

hooked up with ‘Joe’, another poor reader, became pregnant and married young.

The authors predict they will have three or four children before the couple can be

convinced to use birth control. Their offspring will become another generation of

poor readers.”206

“Scary story,” I remarked. “I think I read similar cautionary tales from the

eugenicists in the museum. Like a horror movie – the non-readers are

multiplying!”

Williamson nodded and continued. “The authors also say dyslexia is over

diagnosed and just an excuse for not reading, except in the rare cases where it is

very severe, and in such situations the child belongs to the school’s special

education team, not the reading teacher.” The authors then give advice for

dealing with other learning issues including hearing problems, fine motor

problems, and poor visual memory. Some of this advice is on the topic of

detecting when students are faking these impairments to get out of their work.”

Again, I noticed Williamson was appearing as confident now, critiquing these

books, as I’d ever seen him. This bothered me, but why?

“But do you get a sense that the authors advance any theories about who

slow learners are?” I asked.

“It seems to me they define slow learners pretty literally and with reference to

reading. Anyone who has proven slow at picking up on reading. And they recommend

the same reading program to fix the problem for all of these cases.”

Finally, a real clue. According to this, slow learners could be found through

reading assessment. “What do you think of that?” I asked.

206
Gloria Wilkins and Susanne Miller, Strategies for Success: An Effective Guide for Teachers of
Secondary – Level Slow Learners (New York: Columbia University, 1983), 3-4.
 199

“I don’t know. In a way I agree; if kids have reading problems you have to

address them. And like we were talking about the other day, I’ve read other research

which actually argues that when it comes to reading problems, the distinction between

slow learners, you know, the low average IQ types and kids diagnosed with learning

disabilities in reading is actually pretty blurry.207 There is something to responding to

reading problems quickly and directly instead of obsessing about the right diagnosis.

But I think this approach risks oversimplifying things, too. Potentially useful

diagnostic information about impairments should be attended to, not glossed over or

ignored.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I’ve also read some brain research which I found pretty convincing that

indicated a significant minority of students simply are not wired up to hear the words

in their head well when they read silently, and the only way to fairly assess their

reading or to use reading for learning with them, is if they are given the chance to hear

a text of any real length as they read with their eyes at the same time, you know, the

accommodations I was talking about.208 And if you want them to improve as much as

they can as silent readers, a much more concentrated approach then would be

appropriate for other struggling students is needed.”209

This took me back to the Sputnik exhibit in the museum and the birth of the

learning disability label. Even if there was a lot of politics behind the label, what if

there was something to the science too? Then I remembered what Smart Ass Cripple

had told me. I replied to Williamson from that vantage point. “So sometimes the

207
Klassen, “When IQ is irrelevant,” 307.
208
Maryanne Wolf, Proust and the Squid: the Story of Science and the Reading Brain? (Cambridge: Icon,
2008), 188.
209
Ibid., 194.
 200

reading problem is in the student then? A whole species of kids with different brains.

Sounds like the medical model all over again.”

“And there’s the danger,” said Williamson, finally, “at least part of it. It’s

dangerous to ignore a possibility like this, the reading brain thing. Otherwise you end

up imposing a program designed to help struggling readers that’s totally unsuited to

how some of the kids learn. But it’s dangerous to fully embrace an idea like the

differences in the reading brain because our concept of normal is so dominant that

once you decide a kid’s brain does reading differently, it kind of paints everything

about the kid in this exotic color. What else does this impact, how else might this kid

be different from the rest?”

“And that’s the danger we’ve seen with slow learners too,” I concluded. “The

label just keeps accumulating all these characteristics that set the kids apart, even if

there is some truth to the characteristics in some cases.”

I felt like we were getting somewhere, despite my annoyance over looking at

books instead of talking to people. Even as we were starting to find some traction,

however, I was increasingly troubled by Williamson and his confidence looking

through these sources. I still couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I thought it might

be important in the case. I decided I’d better keep talking to him until I could figure

out what it was.

 201

XX

Williamson picked up another book to show me. “Here’s one from the seventies I

kind of like,” he announced. He held up a black book affirmingly titled Yes They Can:

A Practical Guide for Teaching the Adolescent Slow Learner.210 It looked like Williamson

had pierced its flesh with a hundred daggers, thin red bits of paper stuck out all over

the place marking different passages.

He read me one part.

The reality as any teacher of the adolescent slow learner will attest, is one

that goes much deeper than the fact of intellectual capacity. Students are

placed in these classes for a host of reasons. Some are there because they

apparently lack intellectual capacity. Others have a physical handicap

serious enough to retard their progress but not serious enough to warrant

special individualized treatment. The adolescent slow learner class has a

share of psychologically disturbed students, a sampling … of students who

have been unable to adjust to a new language, and of course a number of

behavior problems who have been assigned to the class for lack of a better

solution.211

“I like the acknowledgment of the complexity of who slow learners are,” Williamson

noted. “The author even goes on to describe a number of students who he worked with

as a teacher, and each of these was very unique in his or her learning needs. He had a

writing sample on the topic of riding the city bus from a student who’d been diagnosed

with schizophrenia and placed in his slow learner class. This kid’s writing was so

nuanced and expressive I think it would have scored well in any tier of English.

210
Ken Weber, Yes They Can: A Practical Guide for Teaching the Adolescent Slow Learner? (Toronto:
Methuen, 1974).
211
Ibid, p. 7, emphasis in original.
 202

Another thing he found out, and I suspect it would hold today, is the relationship

between economic class and who gets placed in slow learner classes. He found some

research that indicated that, in a cohort of all students enrolled in Toronto’s secondary

schools in 1970, children of unemployed parents and parents holding jobs involving

unskilled labor made up sixty percent of the students placed in special education

classes or vocational education classes for slow learners. Children of parents working

in professions made up less than five percent of the students in these classes.”212

That reminded me about what I’d seen in the museum by the replica of

Sputnik, the more affluent parents who didn’t want their academically struggling kids

in slow learner programs and who had lobbied for a different label and a different way

of supporting them. I told Williamson about that.

“Yeah, we need to keep investigating that one,” he agreed. There was that

assertiveness and confidence again.

“Another thing he writes about, observed Williamson, “are some prominent

myths about slow learners. Among these is, that because they do so poorly in school

slow learners, need to be trained more directly for employment through programming

that focusses narrowly on employment skills. The author says this is inconsistent with

democratizing intentions for education and likely to pass along values of subservience

and unquestioning obedience in the students.”

I thought Michel might have made a similar observation about how narrowly

job-specific vocational training functioned and found myself missing my banished co-

investigator.213

212
Ibid., 17.
213
See Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish, trans. Alan Sheridan? (New York: Vintage, 1995).
Though Foucault’s writing of the institutional production of “docile bodies” continues to have broad
applicability to public schooling, a curriculum for poorly achieving students that narrowly focuses on
employment skills training seems, from this vantage, particularly geared towards bringing forth docility.
 203

“If he thinks all of this is so complex, what sort of instruction does this author

recommend for slow learners?” I asked.

“It’s hard to summarize, but basically a competency-based literacy program to

try to get the students more actively engaged in school. He lists the main goals of the

program as life confidence, self-confidence, and employment confidence and the main

competencies as reading, speaking, listening, writing, creative thinking, logical

thinking, critical thinking, appreciation and awareness.”

“Sounds worthwhile, but vague. Any clue to how it looks under the hood, as

you interpret it?”

“A lot of what he writes makes sense. He has a long section on engaging

students who have become discouraged with reading and writing. For example, he

suggests reading out loud to the class when you want students of a variety of skill

levels to be able to discuss the same text, but individualizing more when the tasks

involve silent reading. I’ve always found if I read out loud and we slowed things down

and discussed things a lot, I could use a recommended text from almost any level of

high school English to my K & E classes. I teach Catcher in the Rye to the kids all the

time even though it’s supposedly a recommended resource for a more advanced level

of English. He suggests getting the students to write a lot with interesting prompts

that they would likely have some experience with, and opinions about, but not to be so

fussy some days if they feel they want to write about something other than your

prompt. He suggests you limit your criticism of their writing to one specific thing at a

time for them to work on.”

“So you pretty much agree with all his advice for working with slow learners?” I

asked.
 204

“Not all of it, actually,” Williamson said. “He has a lot of puzzle activities, short

mysteries and listening games which I’ve found some students love and some really

hate because they can never solve the mysteries. Also, he recommends the kids do a

lot of word searches for improving their visual acuity; so did the other book with the

reading program for slow learners, actually. I’m not so sure about that. I don’t enjoy

word searches myself. I’ve found that some kids enjoy them, but these are the same

kids who are good at finding the words already and don’t need the practice. I’m not

convinced it would be worthwhile imposing a word search on a kid who would find it

torturous unless you were sure it would make a significant difference in improving his

or her reading. Maybe the visual acuity thing was talked about more a generation ago

when word searches were more recently on the educational scene. In my experience,

they’re mostly just handed out as busy work to keep kids in the lower academic tier

from being idle.”

Williamson was at-risk of ranting so I cut him short. “Anything else?”

“Again, there is no mention of accommodations. But I guess the main thing that

bothers me is it seems like there is a built in disconnect between the first section that

strongly protests stereotyping slow learners, insisting they are heterogeneous group of

complex learners, and the second section that proposes a common curriculum for all

adolescent slow learners.”

That was a lengthy appraisal. It took me a minute to digest all of it. When I did,

though, a question jumped out at me. “But wouldn’t most of his advice on how to set

up an effective classroom apply to any student?”

“Oh,” he paused considering. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. I guess so, except

the stuff about word searches.” Boy, he really had an axe to grind about word
 205

searches. I wondered if one had stolen his lunch money or kicked sand in his face at

some point.

Williamson showed me another book. It was navy blue and had no writing on

the front or back. On its spine it bore the title “Teaching Geometry to Slow Learners”214

and the date, 1986.

“Why does it look so plain?” I asked.

“It’s a master’s thesis, not a published book,” he explained. “There’s a standard

format, and a pretty sparse one at that. We have to pay for the binding ourselves so

it’s no-frills. Anyhow, this one is about using computer assisted instruction to help

slow learners in math. But the curious thing is, this author isn’t so sure who slow

learners are either.”

He read a passage to me:

There is still a disagreement as to the definition of a ‘slow learner’. There are

many terms which are used interchangeably. These include ‘culturally

deprived’, ‘educationally disadvantaged’, ‘underachievers’, ‘low achievers’,

as well as slow learners. The inability of educators to agree on one specific

term with any degree of precision is due to the fact that the individuals

characterized vary greatly in characteristics and needs, and in part to the

fact that each definition is based on different criteria which sometimes

erroneously describes the student.215

Before he read the passage, Williamson let something drop that helped me

clarify what was bothering me about his newfound confidence, but I didn’t want to

214
Norma M. Ellis, “Teaching Geometry to Slow Learners,” (master’s thesis, University of Calgary,
1986).
215
Ibid., p. 10.
 206

pursue it. Not yet. I asked a blander question instead, keeping him talking. “So, did

computers help with slow learners?”

“Well, it seems like it. Despite her caveats about who exactly slow learners were,

she did find a number of low achieving students at a vocational high school in Calgary

to do the research on. From the criteria she describes, these would basically be K & E

level students. The students did pick up faster than the control group on the

geometric concepts taught, something she attributed to the novelty of the technology,

as well as their opportunities to control the pace of the instruction and to receive

immediate feedback from the system on how they were doing. You know what else this

research noted?” Williamson asked.

“What?” I asked.

“The microcomputer cannot be viewed as just another electronic fad that will go

away if the teacher ignores it for long enough.” 216 He giggled at this now-obvious

prophesy. He was getting giddy. Maybe it was the half of a beer he’d consumed; maybe

it was all the reading. This was perfect.

I chuckled too, but then, when he wasn’t expecting it demanded suddenly,

“How come you said we when you were talking about this thesis?”

Williamson’s smile froze and his mouth fell into an oblong shape as he stared

off into space while he considered how much he should tell me. People sometimes beat

the truth out of themselves if you have the patience to wait them out. “I wrote one of

those too a few years back and I am working on another one right now – about slow

learners.”

I felt my temper flare up. “Is that how you got acquainted with Jacques and

Michel and that other methodless method you told me about the day we met?”

216
Ibid., p. 7.
 207

“Hermeneutic phenomenology. Yes, it is.”

“I suppose you have a supervisor and a committee helping you with your

research too?” I’d had some clients from the academic world, so I knew the basics

about the process.

He admitted this as well.

“Why didn’t you tell me how long you’d been working on this case before we

met? Why did you let me risk my neck at the library, and the school, and the museum

when you already had all this information? How come you’ve waited this long to show

them to me? And while I’m at it, are you so sure you’re even actually worried about

finding the slow learners and saving them from that crisis in special education you

were telling me about? Seems more like you’ve been worried about finding an

interesting and familiar topic to exploit so you can look clever. You’re too sure of

yourself with these books. Was all that stuff you told me about needing me and my

strength all just hot air too? What am I even doing here? Am I just a sideshow?” I had

a habit of asking too many questions in a row when I was steamed, and besides, I was

feeling Williamson had a lot to answer to just then.

Williamson sighed. It was a heavy sigh, a sincere sigh, it belonged in the Sigh

Hall of Fame. “Mr. Hunter,” he began, “I am very sorry I didn’t tell you more about my

own work with this topic. I have my reasons.” I made a note not to let him off the hook

so easily on this point but allowed him to keep talking for now. “As to your concerns

about exploiting this topic, maybe I can tell you a little about the last time I

researched an educational issue like this. A few years back, I investigated a different

sort of teaching, work experience education. At the time, a part of my job was visiting

students who were working with employers as a part of their high school program,

making sure the paperwork was done right, helping make sure the workplaces were
 208

safe, helping resolve any conflicts that came up between the student and the

employer. Actually, many of the students I supervised over the years were from IOP,

and later K & E, as the graduation credential for these students required work

experience. As I continued to work in the program, I developed some ethical concerns.

There were parts of teaching work experience that just didn’t make much sense but

other aspects that I really liked. At first, the research I was doing didn’t sound much

different than the standard complaining I do about my job. I was at risk of wasting my

time and not really learning or proving anything. Then, with the help of my supervisor,

I looked at the issue interpretively, at the level of discourse, and I recruited some

theorists, primarily Michel Foucault, to help me. I learned all kinds of things I

wouldn’t have otherwise. When I finally completed the whole thing, I came to the

realization that even though I highly valued work experience as a form of learning for

some students, the whole program was just going in one direction with too much

momentum – it was a potentially exploitive direction for many students – and I needed

to stop teaching it. 217 I started teaching more special education classes instead. I

wasn’t able to fix work experience, but I outlined my concerns about it my thesis, in a

summary I prepared for the school district, and later in an article for a teaching

magazine. I moved myself to a type of teaching I felt I could get behind more, at least

at the time, and when I do talk to kids who are considering doing work experience

classes, I try to give them what I see as a balanced perspective. In the end, this all felt

a lot better than just griping about the work all the time without doing anything. The

research made me a more ethical teacher. I am hoping our work with slow learners

will help me similarly in this area.”

W. John Williamson, “Understanding Work Experience: A Discourse Analysis,” (master’s thesis,

217

University of Calgary, 2004.)

 209

This explanation calmed me a little; it was a reasonably satisfactory answer to

my accusation that he was exploiting me and the students. But he was still leaving

some things unanswered. I thought a little ridicule might shake the rest of the truth

loose. “So, a method saved you, did it? You’re a strange one, Williamson. This is what

I learn from my methods on pretty much every case. The rich get away with murder,

almost everybody’s on the take, and if you shake your highball a little, the ice cubes

dance in their pretty black dresses.”

“If it’s that bad why do you even keep taking cases?” asked Williamson, with

that surprising assertiveness. I could feel him trying to shift the interrogation back

onto me.

“It’s kind of absurd, I guess,” I found myself admitting. “It’s like that Greek hero

I learned about in college, on one of the days when I decided to change things up and

actually went to class. He was condemned for scorning the Gods and sentenced to

push the same massive boulder up the same mountain for eternity and seeing it roll

back down every time. He could despair of his fate, but he chose to own it. His thing

was pushing the rock up, and when he is doing it, he’s doing his thing, he is pushing

that rock up. It’s his struggle.” 218

I heard myself sounding circular but somehow I couldn’t stop talking. It was

weird, as if my interrogation had backfired. “I mean he’s trying to relish his fate,” I

continued, “I even imagine him jogging back down the hill to start again. I can’t even

let myself think about making the world safer or fairer, but when I take a case I can

find or restore or avenge or protect someone for a while, even if the rot catches up

eventually, which it always does in the end, at least I can do that much. It still seems

a worthy fight, even sort of sickly enjoyable at times.” Why was I owning up to all this,

Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays, trans. Justin O’Brien (New York: Alfred A.
218

Knopf, 1983), 110-111.

 210

in the middle of my attempt to get Williamson to come clean? There was something

about this case.

“I don’t think I see this as starkly as you,” remarked Williamson. “But I agree

it is a worthy fight.”

“Why did you think I needed the help of Jacques and Michel in this fight?” I

asked.

“They’re not even the theorists I think we need to pay the most attention to in

order to solve this case,” said Williamson in another moment of candor, “but I thought

as you started investigating things you’d need some help sniffing out all the injustices

for slow learners, not just what they were, but where they came from and how they

operated, and it seemed like they could help you get a good start on this.”

I didn’t disagree with this, so I just let it sit there on the table with all the

books. Williamson had answered many of my questions, but there was still an

elephant in the room, an elephant which, despite its girth, was as elusive as the prize

fighter Willie ‘Will ‘o the Wisp’ Pep. I’d gone several rounds with it and there it was,

still untouched, taunting me. I was beginning to despise this elephant. I looked right

at Williamson, holding his eyes in my best glare of accountability. “Williamson,” I

began, calling him out by name, “why did you really call on me to work this case?

What do I have that you need? Never mind the vague stuff about needing my strength

you said earlier, if you don’t tell me that right now, and clearly, we are through here.”

I’d changed my mind about letting him off the hook on anything. Every bit of

disclosure seemed too important for the case now.

Cornered, Williamson sat there staring at me. The seconds and minutes

accumulated slowly, as though they were being piled on top of each other by sluggish

bricklayers. Eventually, he went up a flight of stairs and returned with a book of

 211

pictures. He extracted one of them. It was of a skinny kid in an orange large-collared

shirt. He was gangly as a monkey, and stared up at the camera with a shy smile and

big eyes. I realized it was Williamson.

“You were right to say I’ve been holding out on you,” Williamson admitted. “I

was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this, but that was probably wishful thinking. What

you need to understand first about why I called you in, is how highly involved I am in

all of this. I’ve been accidentally studying, or to put it another way, experiencing,

disability and special education for most of my life. The kid in this picture,” the way he

said it was interesting, as if trying to get some distance from his former self, “had

difficulties in school that I am sure, from my knowledge of coding, would have resulted

in a special education code in today’s classrooms. He struggled, particularly with

handwriting, sports, counting objects in primary math textbooks, and copying off the

board. He was diagnosed by a psychologist as having a learning problem related to

visual motor integration; at the time they were still sometimes calling it a form of brain

damage. These days, these learning issues probably would have resulted in a code for

a mild to moderate medical disability.”219

I was glad Williamson was finally being honest with me, and the thing with the

word searches was starting to make sense too. He still, however, hadn’t directly

answered the question I was asking. I decided to try a little patience to see if he’d get

to it. Instead of redirecting him to my original question, I asked, “Was he, were you,

accommodated at all in those days?”

“There was no formal system of coding or accommodation in schools at the time

to help manage these difficulties. But I remember one time my mom,” he had switched

back to the first person, maybe on account of thinking about his mother, “recopied

219
Alberta Education, Special education coding criteria, 5.
 212

word for word this big fantasy story I wrote during grade five, even a love scene,” he

blushed, “and the teacher gave me a perfect score and read it out loud to the class. I

liked that. But I don’t remember the supports being very comprehensive, and I

remember getting a lot of bad marks in English – which should have been my best

subject – because teachers couldn’t read my writing. I remember being called lazy for

writing off the board too slowly or messily, and elementary school math was always a

disaster with all those tiny dots to count and all those columns to keep straight.

Seeing as how we played sports every recess, my clumsiness made me pretty

unpopular with the other boys, and I didn’t want to hang out with the girls in

elementary school, so I was pretty isolated.”

“Is that why you got into special education, to see that other kids who learn

differently get treated more fairly?” I asked.

“Not really,” Williamson admitted. “I never really connected the two things. I

often thought I was kind of a loser and not very bright, but no one ever called me

disabled, so I didn’t develop much of a sense of solidarity with anyone who might have

been labelled disabled or handicapped, or whatever the words for it were at the time. I

vaguely remember some kids in my school going to work in a different room some of

the time, I might have been sent there too at some point, but I don’t recall hearing the

word ‘disability’ or even ‘handicapped’ connected to this either. Things got a little

better for me in my later teen years. I discovered I was a little better, no superstar but

better, at contact sports like boxing and rugby, and it felt really good being even

average at something physical. We got a personal computer when I was in junior high,

and by the time I was in high school, I was word processing most of my written work

at home and achieving well on some of it. I still felt like an imposter in any group that
 213

seemed to accept me, like if they found out what I was really like I’d be out for sure,

but after those early experiences even being an imposter felt like an improvement.”

“So how did you end up connecting to special education as a teacher?” I asked.

“Two things. I’d kind of fallen into teaching after an English degree and was

doing alright. Actually to back up, I guess I had a mandatory special education class

as a part of my education degree in university, but all I remember was a little bit on

disability categories, a lot of talk about gifted kids, and a lesson on mnemonic memory

tricks. It didn’t do much for me. Anyhow, I was doing alright with teaching English but

then I got surplused, you know, bumped out of my position at the junior high I was

teaching English Language Arts at when there was a drop in enrolment, and I ended

up getting moved to teaching IOP, as it was called at the time, at a high school where

there was an opening. I really didn’t have much choice but to move into IOP if I

wanted to stay in teaching, but it turned out that I bonded pretty well with a lot of the

kids, and I liked how I was rarely told by administrators or departments heads what to

do or how to teach. It seemed like as long as I kept the IOP kids contained, I could do

my own thing as a teacher.”

“What was the other thing?” I asked.

“I’m getting to that.” Williamson opened the photo album again, but then

changed his mind, closed it, and instead rolled up the sleeve of his golf shirt, like he

was about to get a flu shot or something. When he got the sleeve all the way up, I saw

staring back at me, a portrait-style tattoo of a child with the biggest, most beautiful

smile I thought I’d ever seen. The smile was so expansive the child’s eyes were half

shut to make room for it, and, even in this black and white likeness, they seemed to

sparkle in merriment. After staring, dazzled, at it for a minute, something else began
 214

to slowly register to me about the face I was looking at, but by then Williamson had

resumed his explanation.

“This is Jacob,” he said, “He’s always with me. Jacob was our second-born.

He was gifted with a capacity for affection I have not experienced in any other person

since. He was also severely disabled with Down Syndrome and a host of additional

medical problems. He was really fragile at first when he was born and, for me and my

wife anyway, the news that he had Down Syndrome, when they told us in the ICU, was

pretty secondary to our incredible relief when he got stronger over those early days

and we became sure he would live. There were all kind of things he struggled with.

Never mind the developmental milestones for non-disabled kids, they have a separate

set they use for kids with Down Syndrome, and he was often way behind on those too.

I guess he would have seemed more like a baby or a toddler than a young child even

when he was four, which is when he passed away. Our lives were a whirlwind of

therapies, checkups, surgeries, administering medications, and operating assistive

equipment. But he had such a personality! He was so loving; I don’t think there is a

word for love that approaches the depth and sincerity I think he felt it and shared it

with. And then there was his laugh – he’d laugh hysterically whenever there was a sort

of a crashing sound, like dropping dishes in the kitchen. And he’d give you these

kisses with his whole mouth open. He couldn’t walk, and actually had trouble with

crawling too but if our daughter, who was six at the time he passed away, entered the

room he’d light right up and study her every movement, and if she went upstairs he’d

strain his body after her like he was going to burst out of his chair and fly up to join

her.”

Williamson smiled at the memory and then went on.

 215

“People all reacted differently to Jacob. Some seemed to accept him intuitively;

but I could tell that some people were uncomfortable around him. We had some of the

most caring doctors, nurses and therapists but then there were some who were all

about clinical indifference too. When he was getting tested for allergies, the technician

without a word of reassurance to Jacob or my wife forcefully slapped a board of little

needles with potential allergens on his back like he was a slab of meat, after which he

screamed in terror and pain, and the technician just stared blankly. He probably

didn’t have much of a bedside manner in general, but I’m not sure he would have

thought he could get away with that level of indifference with a child who could walk

and talk. We were provided a wide range of government-funded support and services

for which we will always be grateful. But my wife and I, more her than me because I

was working full-time, still had to attain these services through a daunting process of

documentation. We were left wondering what happened to other families with similar

needs in which the parents were less skilled at completing complicated forms. He

touched a lot of lives and we had a lot of support. When he passed away, almost every

seat in the church was filled with our families, his caregivers, and people my wife and

I worked with. But when Jacob was born, some of my acquaintances told me they

were sorry; when he passed away, some of the same people assured me it was for the

best.”

A muscle twitched in Williamson’s jaw. He was still angry over the defects in

thinking that would have produced such a statement. I said I was sorry and he

thanked me. Then I said I had a question. “Why are you investigating the

disappearance of the slow learners instead of something to do with Jacob and how

people understood him?”

 216

“Maybe I will do something more to explore my experiences with Jacob more

directly at some point, but trying to do something for slow learners is strongly

connected to this. Jacob had a lot of medical issues but he wasn’t defective; he was

whole. He filled our lives with his personality. It took a lot of help, money, time, and

effort to care for him, but these obligations were small compared to what he gave us

every day. I’ve been working with IOP / K & E kids for fifteen years now. I haven’t seen

eye to eye with every student I’ve taught, but I have seen how much these kids can do

when you treat them with respect. Some of these kids are pretty complicated in terms

of how they learn. But they’re not half students and they don’t deserve a half of an

education, half a credential or a half-assed effort to meet their needs. And like I said,

changes are afoot in special education and in schooling in general; the slow learners

are more at risk now than ever. Someone needs to look out for them.”

“So with your background, why do you need me on this case?” I asked again,

insisting.

“I can research and write about this, that’s true,” he said, “but I need

something …” he stopped and began again. “I’ve read some fine, challenging,

thoughtful books and papers on teaching and on disability that were written in an

academic style. But the way these students have been categorized and either ignored

or moved into other programs, and the ongoing issue of what do with them now – it’s a

tough conversation and it requires a tough approach, something ….” He trailed off as if

searching for a phrase he’d suddenly forgotten.

“Hard-boiled?” I suggested.

“Yes, hard-boiled. Hard-boiled operatives, like yourself, talk tough and are

tough. Look at everything that’s happened to you on this case, and here you are still.

They do not suffer fools, I mean not the fool category, but the generic kind of fool as in
 217

ignorant and unthinking persons of course, gladly.” Williamson was correcting his

labels again, I figured he must have been feeling more himself. “They speak for the

dead, they help the oppressed defend themselves, they demand truth, and they

demand justice.”

I was about to say I wasn’t sure I could live up to these expectations.

Williamson was on a roll though, I couldn’t get it out. Next, he said something that has

always stayed with me.

“And they look for missing persons. Slow learners are missing persons, or they

are missing as persons. That’s what I want. Find them as persons if they are there to

be found, and give them the truth and justice they deserve. That’s why I need a hard-

boiled detective, that’s why I need you.” His voice had firmed up as he spoke and,

ironically, seeing as how he was asking for help, there as an almost defiant resolve in

his last sentence.

With that, I finally thought I understood, as well as I ever would, what

Williamson was up to. I said “Okay,” and we both sipped our beer. I was troubled by

SAC’s question about whether or not the slow learners would benefit from being

found, but in Williamson’s statements I found a purpose I could deal with – trying to

find some justice for them, just in case their getting found was inevitable, but I didn’t

share this with Williamson. Instead, to make him feel in control again, I asked him to

tell me more about some of the scholars who might help me proceed a little more

cautiously as I continued to investigate. Still calming down, he began to tell me what

he thought I needed to know about hermeneutic phenomenology; about how it was the

tradition, philosophy, and practice of interpretation, about how it involved thinking

about and describing things themselves in the life-world without appeal to some sort
 218

of external reality. 220 He was tired now, but he made a good effort, sometimes

correcting himself on a point, sometimes owning up to only partially understanding

some aspect of the topic. I listened and tried to understand. I thought I picked up a

few things. Some of it was interesting, but I still didn’t see why it was necessary for

this investigation. After I’d heard him out for a while, I said I was eager to get back on

the road – the slow learners were still out there. I thanked Williamson for explaining

this all to me but said I needed to get back to the investigation. He protested that there

were still things in hermeneutic phenomenology that I could benefit from hearing

about, but I insisted. I asked him to drive me back to my hotel and he obliged.

As we were driving, the dull pain in my leg still disturbed me now and then, like

a loud neighbour, but I’d been off my feet a lot recently and the rest had done it good.

I needed a shower and a change of clothes and, after that, it was still early enough to

peek into some corners to look for slow learners. On the drive back, Williamson and I

each retreated into our own thoughts. I was considering the books Williamson showed

me, and whether anything in the brief introduction to hermeneutics he had given me

actually applied to this case. The word equipment stuck in my brain, along with the

idea that equipment, in a way, disappears when it’s in use. I had a vision of a school

bus. The driver does a thorough bus inspection. He notices a broken tail light, a bald

tire, maybe some leaking fluids. When he starts it up, there is a weird burning smell

and a rattling sound in the engine. But he feels he is in a hurry and it’s too far to

walk, so he loads the bus up full of kids and drives them to school in it anyway. He

starts out driving carefully, remembering that the bus is unsafe, but as he drives, he

kind of forgets and begins to accelerate, ripping around the corners, passing big

220
Nancy J. Moules, “Hermeneutic inquiry: Paying heed to history and Hermes – An ancestral,
substantive, and methodological tale,” International Journal of Qualitative Methods 1, no. 2: (2002), 6.
http://ejournals.library.ualberta.ca/index.php/IJQM/article/view/4597/3750.
 219

trucks, running over bumps and potholes instead of avoiding them. I couldn’t see if

the bus made it to school or not, just that the driver noticed it had problems, used it

anyway, and then forgot the problems. I realized the bus in my vision was the slow

learner label in all the sources we just looked at; every author owned up to the

problems with the label but then, like the driver, took the kids to school in it anyway. I

wished I could see if it got them to school or not. Part of me wished it would break

down even worse, to be put out beyond repair, become an object alienated from its

function. But then, if these kids really did learn that differently, what would take them

to school, or maybe school to them, instead?221 Then I caught myself dreaming, and

rolled down the passenger window in Williamson’s car until the frigid air snapped me

back into reality.

221
See Martin Heidegger, Being and Time, 68-70. Heidegger discusses equipment as serving the
purposes of a Being and time “towards which” or “in order to” as well as a part of “totality of
involvement or purpose.” In this sense the slow learner label might be seen as equipment in larger sorting
and programming enterprise and the use of the pedagogic use of the label as a form of skilled coping,
which Heidegger would describe as pragmatic instead of conceptual. This coping, as an inherited and
normative activity, includes the sense of whether things are going well or poorly, but only to the degree
that a skilled tradesperson might self-correct during a repair or assembly job. In the previous chapter Max
and Williamson had complained about the unwieldiness of the equipment the system gives teachers of
complex learners, as if using it for the purposes of doing right by students was like using a hammer claw
to open a beer bottle. In this part Max plays the Luddite – he wonders about the possibility of putting the
equipment beyond use and sabotaging the totality.
 220

XXI

I reached my hotel. The host regarded me warily as I walked, limping slightly,

past the front desk, wearing the same ripening suit I’d had on for two days. The news

of the visit the police had paid me in my room must have reached management by

now, but when I opened the door, I saw no notice of eviction. Maybe you really were

innocent until proven guilty at this establishment, or maybe the only indictable

offences were not paying your bill or ripping those little tags off your mattresses.

I quickly showered, shaved and changed. I would have liked the chance to

relish the heat of the shower more, but I wanted to get back to the case. Before we left

his house, Williamson had added to my small suitcase some of his teacher clothes so I

might look more inconspicuous which was good because both of my suits had taken

as much abuse as I had. I put on some beige cotton pants and a red sweater. I felt

heavier, like I had grown a thicker set of fur for the winter, and I thought I looked

ridiculously like a character in a Christmas movie, but at least I’d be warmer. As I was

changing, it occurred to me to my annoyance that, despite how tired I was of historical

research at this point, the one thing I hadn’t done was conduct a thorough search of

programming for slow learners, over time, in Alberta’s schools. Despite all my

investigations and conversations so far, I still didn’t really know when K & E, and IOP

before that came about, what they were supposed to accomplish and if there was

anything for slow learners that came before them. Two of the texts Williamson had

shown me were from England, one was from the United States, and the Yes They Can

book was from Canada but described programming for slow learners in Toronto. Only

the dissertation was from Alberta. I needed to check this out more. Hopefully this city

had some kind of archives where a guy could find some primary sources about this,

but where? I looked in the booklet of guest services on my dresser; it had a cigarette
 221

burn and some kind of dark stain on it, but it said clearly enough that the hotel had a

business centre with high speed internet. For a dollar for each fifteen minutes, a guest

could browse and research all he wanted.

I went down to the business centre and slid my room card through the key

reader to get into the room. I stuck a couple Canadian dollar coins into the machine,

and a desktop computer that was missing the letter ‘Q’ started humming and

clunking. It was a little quieter than a jumbo jet starting up. After some browsing, I

saw that a large local gallery; this one more widely known than the apparently

mysterious and now destroyed museum of sorting I’d visited had an archive that

included records of educational institutions. I was annoyed to see it had very limited

visiting hours and was closed, and further so to see a notice that some documents

previously available had recently been restricted for public use due to changes in the

province’s privacy laws. Just as I was about to click away from the site, I noticed it

had a staff section. Out of curiosity I clicked it. I was taken to a login page, to which I

entered “ADMIN” and was then prompted for a password. Harnessing all possible

stereotypes about the unknown site administrator I was trying to impersonate, I tried

‘the boss’, but to no success. I tried ‘Captain Kirk’, but was again told it was incorrect.

‘Password’ itself seemed so obvious as to be verging on negligence, but remembering

Jacques, the idea of ‘binary’ popped into my head. Using a free translator program I

located on-line, I searched and found the binary code, expressed in hexadecimals, a

form of writing binary, for the phrase ‘the password’. Then thinking this was still too

easy, I added an adjective ‘the sexy password’, seeing as how it was February, the

month of Valentine’s Day. A whirling icon sprung up and a second later I entered a

page with a big picture of a smiling dude in a suit, job postings, links to various forms

related to benefits, and a ‘What’s New’ section.

 222

An announcement in this section told me that there was a wine and cheese that

had just started in the archives room to celebrate the discovery and donation of a

bunch of pictures and records related to a-hundred-year old championship curling

team that were thought, until now, to have been lost in a clubhouse fire. Here was my

chance to visit the place on my own schedule and maybe use the distraction of the

party to access some of the confidential documents.

There was only one monkey still jumping on the nerves in my leg and he wasn’t

even trying very hard as I drove to the gallery. I parked across the road and entered

the main gallery, flashing a fake badge at the security guard. I made my way to a large

archive room and selected, for extra camouflage, one of a few remaining name

lanyards from a table by the entrance. The large, warmly lit room was replete with

mahogany tables, and on this occasion, was also lousy with curlers in various team

jackets milling around and looking at all the pictures, yearbooks and old tournament

programs. Several had eschewed wine in favour of beer and a nervous man was

running around reminding everyone to be careful with the artifacts in the collection

and to use drink coasters on the tables. What I assumed were staff members hung

around the periphery in business casual attire and forced smiles. I wondered if the

staffer who came up with the idea for this celebration might be archiving elsewhere

soon.

At a cash bar along the far corner, a stunning woman exchanged an empty

plastic wine glass for a full one. She was clad in a ridiculous sweater that depicted an

outdoor bonspiel with Canadian wildlife among the spectators and a loud tartan skirt

that somehow still worked on her, and me. She had wavy brownish-blond hair and

eyes of a much lovelier green than any of the many varieties sampled on her skirt. In
 223

her other hand she absently held an old straw broom. She pouted beautifully. My

planned beeline to the storage area took a detour.

“Want to help me sweep something under the carpet?” I asked her.

“Good one,” she said, icily but giving me a once over as she said it. Then she

looked self-consciously at her sweater and, in a more approachable tone, confided,

“Staff all agreed to come in retro curling gear. Help us honour our guests. Kind of

dumb but it might have been fun that is, if everyone followed the plan like we agreed

to. Apparently that plan was changed at the last minute, but no one told me. I don’t

feel much like mixing at this point.”

“Well, you’re classing up the joint nonetheless,” I assured her. “As for me, I quit

following the sport once they switched to synthetic fibres in the uniforms.”

“Thanks,” she said flatly. But she wasn’t leaving either. “You run a nice line of

bull, Mr.?” Her inflexion rose as she paused for me to fill the space in.

We both looked down at my lanyard.

“Save it,” she said. “You’re wearing my ex-boyfriend’s name.”

“Max Hunter,” I admitted. “Listen. You look like you want to be anywhere but

here. I can help you with that. I’m a shamus. I need to get a look at some documents

in your collection … and I got a good bottle of something stronger than what they’re

serving here if there’s someone who can help me with that.”

“Veronika Sternwood,” she said, unnecessarily since her name was hanging just

above a row of maple leaves on her sweater. After a half of a second’s consideration,

she uttered, “Why not?” and led me down a narrow hall into a small, but tidy office.

She clicked on a bright overhead lamp on the way in.

She got a couple of spotless glasses out of a desk drawer and I retrieved my

flask of bourbon and poured out a couple fingers each. There were two plastic chairs
 224

along the side wall of the office and two more comfortable looking chairs on either side

of her desk. She sat down along the wall on one of the plastic chairs, away from the

artifacts and motioned me to sit beside her. I felt a little like I was sitting at a stop

waiting for the bus but nevertheless obliged.

She downed half her drink, carefully dabbed a pretty upper lip with a Kleenex

she had taken from a box on her desk, sighed, and said, “That’s more like it.”

I said, “I’m looking for slow learners.”

“We should have stayed at the party then,” she said. There it was, the concept

right there for disparaging use, just like it had always been for me before this case.

“No, I’m looking for records on students labelled as slow learners, you know

academically. I’m trying to piece together what sort of programs they’ve been in over

the last hundred years or so.”

“Oh,” she said, “that kind of slow learner. What’s your interest in them?”

“Justice, Ma’am,” I said in a deep voice, doing my best Lone Ranger impression.

She laughed at that. It was a nice laugh, but maybe a little forced. Perhaps my

impression hadn’t been as good as I thought. Or maybe she wasn’t partial to masked

lawmen. “I might be able to help with that,” she confirmed. “If I can’t find anything

under ‘slow learner’ are there any other terms I might look for?”

I told her about IOP / K & E and suggested she see if there any were records of

similar programs had have preceded them.

She took this in for a second and appeared to decide this was pretty doable. She

said, “Okay, be back in a jiffy” and with that she downed the rest of her drink, wiped

her mouth again, and was gone.

I surveyed her desk. Documents and tools were neatly arranged, like rows of

soldiers. I would have liked to look around but I didn’t think upsetting the order would
 225

go over well, so I just sipped my drink. She was taking longer than a jiffy. I was

making some shadow puppets with my hands along the back wall of her office when

she came back in with a stack of documents.

“There were actually quite a few things that matched,” she told me. “Here they

are. They were waiting to be re-shelved, which would mean someone’s been looking at

them in the last couple days. It’s weird, no one had touched any of this stuff for

almost thirty years, before that.”

“Any record of who was in viewing the items?” I asked.

“That was weird too. No one, apparently. We keep detailed records of who our

visitors are and what they view, but the items were awaiting re-shelving with no

indication of who was looking at them.”

“Any chance a staff member might have viewed the documents?”

“We’re supposed to keep a record of any documents we are personally working

with too. It’s part of keeping them in such good shape.”

“And everyone follows the rules?”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Most of us are long timers around here and

know how important it is to be careful with the artifacts.” Having answered that

question to her own satisfaction she asked me one back. “Why would someone

suddenly develop an interest in these materials after thirty years?”

I shrugged. I didn’t know anything definitive that might answer that question

and saw little point in revealing any speculations I had. I suggested we start to look at

the documents. Leaving our empty glasses on the plastic chairs for now, we both

donned thin gloves and began.

Leafing through some turn of the century newspaper clippings and Department

of Education policy statements as well as what I now recognized as a thesis on the

 226

topic from more recent times, 222 I understood for the first time that the idea of a

practical public school program that would train students for employment had been a

feature of public schooling almost since the inception of mass public schooling in

Alberta. The benefits of such instruction were seen to apply not just to slow learners

but to all students. By 1901, the elementary school curriculum already included

something called “manual training” including construction activities in paper,

cardboard, clay and plasticine, as well as weaving, all of which were designed to

develop hand-eye coordination in the children and leave them prepared for related

duties in their “after lives,”223 which I took to mean their lives after school not the

great hereafter. I also realized from reading this that, for many, lives after school

meant after elementary school. This marked the end of the majority of students’

careers in public schooling at the time.

I asked for the next document and Veronika carefully handed me a yellowing

report from Alberta’s Department of Education.224 Looking it over, I realized that from

these beginnings a program of manual training was formalized in all the province’s

elementary schools, which must have included grades seven and eight at the time. In

addition to prescribing instruction in the basic construction craft skills I’d already

read about the program included more advanced training for the boys in “simple

processes in the accepted industrial manner” and, for the girls, training in “sewing

and cooking.” 225 Again, it was understood that these courses would prepare the

majority of students for careers in technical trades or, depending on their gender,

domestic sciences. As the document stated, this instruction aimed:

222
Knobbe, “The Inception of the Junior Academic Vocation,” 11.
223
“It is time for a change,” The Morning Albertan, Nov. 23, 1900. In Ibid., 13.
224
“Courses of study for the public schools,” in Alberta Department of Education Annual Report (1912),
in Ibid., 14.
225
Ibid.
 227

To give a new channel to the expression of ideas; to give hand and eye

training; to develop constructive impulses, judgement, accuracy, resource,

patience, industry, and a sense of symmetry, proportion and beauty by the

artistic production of common things; to give respect for manual pursuits and

encourage industrial efficiency.226

“I like a man with an eye for symmetry and sure hands,” Veronika, who had been

reading over my shoulder, remarked with a bit of a purr. “A little patience doesn’t hurt

either.” I felt my hand twitch and was glad I didn’t rip the article I was holding. We’d

hit it off fairly well from the start, but she seemed to be kicking things into a new gear.

I wasn’t sure if I could chalk this up to the bourbon or if my studious look was just

that irresistible. Regardless, if she was already getting bored with these documents

and looking for a new game to play, I was unfortunately, just getting started with

them. I murmured my amusement at her innuendo and returned to the documents.

Skimming the thesis again, I read about the emergence of junior high schools in

Calgary. By the 1920s, the minimal school leaving age had risen to fifteen, creating a

number of growing pains for the school district. Many students ignored the law and

continued to drop out sooner than this because they or their parents saw no purpose

in continuing their educations past grade eight. The only schooling alternative for

grade nine remained a highly academic curriculum which was irrelevant to many

students’ present interests and future career paths. Despite this, the Calgary district

also predicted overcrowding in high schools with the increase in the minimum school

leaving age. Stakeholders worried, now that a transition at least to grade nine was

mandated for all, that many students would experience difficulties moving from

elementary school to high school. Were slow learners among the students predicted to

226 Ibid., 14.

 228

struggle with this transition, I wondered? As a result, the Calgary district developed a

junior high school program that operated in a dual capacity; preparing students,

depending on their interests and aptitudes, for high school, or for entry into the work

force after grade nine. Almost a third of a student’s classes in a week were to be spent

not in core academic instruction but in the study of various electives which could, for

the more academically inclined, include French, dramatics, music or elementary

sociology, or for the students more inclined to practical pursuits include general shop,

typewriting, business arts, and home economics. It seemed to me that as it was

becoming more normal for most students to be enrolled in school and stay there until

they were at least fifteen, the possibility of two school pathways, a more academic one

and a more practical one, was elbowing its way into the normal curve too. Or was it? I

remembered the IQ pioneers, had, as I understood it, liked their reasoning as un-

muddied as possible. So was this more practical pathway a place I could look for slow

learners on, or was it just a distraction? “Where do slow learners fit into all of this?” I

mumbled out loud.

“What’s that baby?” Veronika asked, having returned to the plastic chairs and

poured herself some more bourbon which she sipped while she watched me read. I

realized this probably wasn’t very fun for her, she was probably hoping to be better

entertained. I thought I could try to make it up to her soon. I wasn’t quite done

though. I mumbled that I was just talking to myself and got back to reading.

Skimming back a little, I noticed something I had missed. Even before the

junior high concept, spurred on by the success of the manual training evening classes

they had begun offering adolescents, the Calgary district formed a committee to

discuss opening a technical high school. This resulted in the founding of Victoria

Prevocational high school in 1919. Students were recommended for this school on the
 229

basis of being “hand minded [not] book minded,”227“not the bright and studious pupils

but the dull uninterested ones,”228 and “above age for their grade level.”229 I had found

where the slow learners fit into the story. My pulse quickened.

Victoria Prevocational offered a modified curriculum with a fifty / fifty split

between academic coursework modified to be more accessible to slow learning

students, and vocational training designed to help students discover the technical

occupations they were best suited for and prepare them for these occupations. The

echoes of this in the K & E policy I’d read about were unmistakable.

This vocational school for slow learners was, for a time, widely lauded as a

progressive step in education in the city. It was praised by both the chief school

inspector at the time and in an article in the Calgary Herald. The district

superintendent went so far as to note that students who had “previously been

regarded as retarded would, by way of this new [pathway], be stimulated and come to

enjoy their schooling.”230 When the junior high concept arrived in the 1930s though,

this discrete program became absorbed by the larger plan I had read about previously.

I wondered if the absorption of Victoria Prevocational, while making schooling a little

more ‘practical’ for most learners, made schooling more ‘academic’ for the sorts of

students Victoria Prevocational had targeted. Compared to Victoria Prevocational, the

junior high plan involved less time spent in practical electives, more time spent in

academic instruction with no reduction in the difficulty levels of academic instruction.

From what I could tell, there was little talk of a more vocational tier of instruction

specifically for slow learners for the next twenty years. Had the slow learners gone

underground?

227
Ibid., 15.
228
Ibid., 18.
229
Ibid., 19.
230
Ibid., 18.
 230

“Come back to the party, we miss you,” a boozy voice pleaded. I looked up and

saw that Veronika was shimmying my flask back and forth slowly in her hand even as

she was shimmying a little herself. She had undone a couple buttons on her curling

sweater, and in the process cleaved a moose that was depicted on the picture on the

front. It stared at me accusingly.

“In a minute,” I stalled. It seemed like a nice party, but I was on the trail of slow

learners. I skimmed ahead a little in the thesis. By the 1950s the Department of

Education and Calgary school district were beginning to worry that the junior high

concept wasn’t working for all students after all. They were concerned by the amount

of students continuing to drop out during their junior high years. Facing a set of

rigorous standardized exams to qualify to transition from grade nine to grade ten, and

with only limited access to more practical classes, many students still weren’t even

sticking around until the end of grade nine. By 1959, some Calgary schools were

beginning to experiment again with modification of curriculum for students who were

seen as unable to keep up. A wholescale report on the state of the education system in

Alberta - the Cameron report of 1959 - criticized the school system, particularly junior

highs for failing to address the growing diversity of ability levels that was appearing in

classrooms, and proposed a distinct vocational education route for students. 231 One

year later, the federal government lent support for this suggestion with the Technical

Vocational Assistance Act which, in collaboration with ten provincial governments,

provided substantial funding to improve industrial education in general and to re-open

discrete vocational pathways for non-academic students. Not only did the federal

government agree to funding seventy-five percent of capital expenditures for facilities

until 1963 and then fifty percent for five years after that, Ottawa also agreed to

231
Ibid., 35.
 231

assume fifty percent of the cost of any approved vocational program for the length of

the agreement.232 I remembered seeing a plaque in Williamson’s school acknowledging

the support of this act in its construction, and read of additional hybrid

academic/vocational high schools, combining a full high school academic program

and an extensive industrial arts program. This funding also led to the eventual

creation of Lord Shaughnessy Secondary Vocational School in Southwest Calgary, and

Van Horne Secondary Vocational School in Northwest Calgary, two schools designed

specifically to provide vocational training to non-academic students, including slow

learners. One argument for building separate vocational schools was that, while low

achieving students often felt like part of the underclass in regular schools and were

reluctant to participate in school clubs and teams, in a more homogenous community

they would be likely to participate more fully in the school community and even

become leaders in the school. I also learned that the location of Van Horne was

initially controversial in the University Heights community as the resident association

noted that while they commended the school district attempting to “teach the

unteachables,” they did not want these students, all of whom they felt came “from a

lower class”, schooled in their community.233 My mind flashed back to the eugenics

gallery in the now-destroyed museum.

In 1961, the Calgary District initiated the Junior Vocational Program, later

renamed the Junior Academic Vocational Program, in several of the schools with

vocational facilities. This program was intended specifically for students who had gone

through at least seven years of schooling and who had shown consistently below

average achievement in their grades at school, as well as low average intellectual

functioning in formal testing. Students who would benefit from the Junior Vocational

232
In Ibid., 102.
233
Vocational School Site Sparks Row,” The Calgary Herald, Nov. 5, 1965, in Ibid., 82.
 232

Program were identified by teachers and administration. The school principal was then

expected to meet with the parents to describe the program. Junior Academic

Vocational involved a course load of about fifty percent core academic classes with a

focus on basic literacy and numeracy skills demanded in the workplace, with fifty

percent technical skills. In the first year, the students were required to take a broad

range of technical courses, including agriculture, building maintenance, automotives,

woodwork, hobby services, food services, and, for the girls, home and commercial

services. Over time, students were expected to drop down to more specialized

instruction in two of these areas as they approached their school-to-work transitions

at the end of the program. Structured work experience placements, in which students

worked with community employers under the supervision of the school, were also

required. The program grew in popularity and eventually six percent of the Calgary

District’s students were enrolled in Junior Academic Vocational Programming.234

Knowing what I’d learned so far about K & E and IOP, I was not surprised by

the instructional balance of academic and vocational courses, with even the academic

courses emphasizing the practical demands of the world of work. I did find three

things interesting though.

The first of these involved the political heat generated by the proposed opening

of these programs. Trustee G.M. Burden was the primary opponent. In a speech at a

home and school association meeting in 1964, Burden declared that instead of

lowering their standards for their children such that they considered vocational

education a possibility, that all parents should have the ambition of university

education for their children. He feared that these schools would become known as

“dumb schools” and that it would be seen as a public embarrassment that the district

234
Ibid., 88.
 233

was spending so much money on a school for “dumb children.”235 He also declared of

the minority of students who might actually require modified programming that “these

people will make no contribution to society”236 and that money could be better spent

serving the needs of the majority of students in the general student population

instead. He went on to give similar speeches to many local clubs such as the Kiwanis

Club, Junior Chamber of Commerce, Calgary Toastmasters, and Progress Club. Other

trustees accused him of trying to strangle the program before it was born, having his

facts wrong, and ignoring the plight of slow learners struggling in regular education.

Trustees, some of whom later spoke at the same prominent clubs as Burden in

defence of the program, also pointed out the Junior Academic Vocational Program had

stable federal funding and therefore was not a burden on the larger system. As the

argument raged in council, it even ignited a debate between Calgary’s two main

editorials at the time. The Calgary Herald supported Burden’s position not so much in

his gloomy forecast about the prospects of students placed in the program, but

because of the concern that streaming these students out of the general population

might have been a cynical move merely intended to liberate teachers from challenging

students at the expense of their educations. The Albertan, however, noted that Junior

Academic Vocational was well suited to individualizing to meet the needs of students

who had already proven unsuccessful in the regular stream of instruction, and that

Burden had overlooked both the careful selection procedures of the program and the

opportunity for students with high achievement in the academic vocational program to

transfer back into the regular stream.

The second thing that interested me was the positive perceptions of the

program held by many of the enrolled children’s parents. On a 1964 questionnaire

235
In Ibid., 68.
236
In Ibid., 67.
 234

that asked responders to rate the program as excellent, average, or poor, one hundred

and seven out of the one hundred thirty four parents said it was excellent and none

responded that it was poor. In the comments section one parent wrote:

I have only praise for this program and find that my son has taken an

interest in school for the first time since he was in grade two. His marks are

much better and he has a better understanding of the subject he is being

taught. I am sure that this program has saved him from becoming another

drop-out.237

Many parents of children in the District’s Junior Academic Vocational Programs

not only agreed to their children’s placements, but formed an association and

aggressively lobbied to keep the program open during this period of controversy. Alan

Low, president of the association, was quoted as saying prior to the program, “I saw

my own son drowning in a sea of frustration in academic studies. Continuous failure

was making him a nervous wreck.”238 Having weathered the storm during the first few

years of the program, the parent association remained involved, continually

advocating for more funding, better facilities, and expansion of the program to make it

available to all students who might benefit. In 1965 – 1966, a hundred students who

had qualified for the program were turned away because it had reached its quota.

The third thing that interested me was the sense I got that planning for the

program went far beyond trying to simplify curriculum for weaker learners; there

really did seem to be an attempt to do something different for students than what was

currently being offered in regular education. Former administrators the thesis author

interviewed indicated that they felt fortunate that the program necessitated hiring new

teachers as such teachers were often unhindered by ‘knowledge’ of the standard

237
In Ibid., 63.
238
In Ibid., 71.
 235

teaching procedures these students had struggled under. Newer teachers had not as

yet met very many pupils in the regular stream, so they were less likely to devote

much thought to negatively comparing Junior Academic Vocational Students to more

academic students. 239 I thought about what Williamson had said about moving to IOP

so early in his teaching career, appreciating the autonomy he was given, and enjoying

the students.

After my experiences in the museum and in speaking with Smart Ass Cripple

who had experienced his own separate schooling in an institution he continually

referred to as SHIT, I was bewildered to read this overwhelmingly positive depiction of

a separate program, housed in separate schools, for slow learners. Save for

mentioning that the school tended to do more to enhance the career prospects of boys

than of girls, for whom the emphasis in vocational training remained on domestic

skills, the author of the thesis had little of a critical nature to say about the Junior

Academic Vocational Program. She reserved most of her criticism for those who had

opposed the program, suggesting for the most part that this opposition had its roots,

not in a pedagogic disagreement about what slower learning students needed to thrive,

but in a parsimonious and elitist notion that these students were not worth devoting

extra attention or resources to.

Interestingly, the author of the thesis tied the success of the Junior Academic

Vocational Program to its segregated setting. She even mused that a failed honours

program for what might now be referred to as academically gifted students –

undertaken at the same time in congregated school settings – might have been more

effective if it too was administered in separate schools. I thought my new friend Smart

239
Ibid., 59. Additionally, the freedom from provincial academic curricula and standardized examinations
in the vocational schools may well have fostered a sense of liberation from more traditional teaching
methods. Knobbe mentions team teaching as an example of a successful method regularly used in the
vocational schools, despite its being discouraged in ‘regular’ classrooms at the time.
 236

Ass Cripple would have a vantage from which some of the practices the author of the

thesis described as “liberating” might have seemed segregationist, but still she’d made

an interesting statement with her study, and it was one I needed to attend to if I was

going to find the slow learners.

I closed the thesis, though not before reading that one of the “unteachables”

from the junior vocational had upgraded to high school diploma level courses,

completed a university degree and was, at the time the thesis was written, working as

a teacher in the city.240 I looked up. Veronika was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she’d

given up on me and gone back to the wine and cheese, if it was still going on. I really

hadn’t been much of a date so far. I was usually more attentive to gorgeous dames

who threw themselves at me. I saw that she’d taken my flask with her wherever she

went. I thought maybe I should go look for her. Looking back at the desk, however, I

saw that she’d also brought me a couple of interesting looking books with light blue

covers. They bore the label Alberta Education in that stylized futuristic font that

everyone was so excited about at the dawn of microcomputers, and both appeared to

be evaluations of other Academic Occupational Programs in various parts of the

province. I gathered that, even though there was no centralized provincial curriculum

and there might have been bumps in the road in various districts, this approach to

programming for slow learners had hung in there through the 1970s and into the

early 1980s. I realized I was reading program evaluations, commissioned by Alberta

Education and written by members of the Educational Psychology Department at the

University of Alberta, for the purposes of determining if the school based programs

studied merited funding from the province for their slow learner programs. The

programs the reports described sounded very similar to what the thesis author had

240
Ibid., 93.
 237

depicted, half academic work with a vocational emphasis, half explicitly vocational

instruction, some of which was to be administered through community work

experience placements in the students’ senior years. The first one of these, a program

in the small city of Leduc, was developed as an alternative to bussing slow learning

children to slow learner programs in the city of Edmonton where it was feared, in the

words of the report writer, that “pushers and other subhuman forms” stalked the big

city campuses.241 The other program, in Strathcona, had been developed for similar

reasons. Each of these programs was compared to existing Academic Occupational

Programs in other school districts as an aspect of the evaluations. The Leduc program

was applying for continued funding and passed the test with flying colours. Much of

the success of the program, the report noted, was how, despite operating within a

larger school, the Leduc program had managed to create a more intimate community

of teachers and learners separate from the regular education program and was offering

a comprehensive program that catered to the needs of students with learning

disabilities and intellectual disabilities. The report also praised the Leduc program for,

despite the provision of the vocational classes, emphasizing a special education focus

of individualization and academic remediation over rigid adherence to meeting

vocational goals. The Strathcona program was applying for funding for the first time,

and was recommended in the report, but several deficiencies in need of correction

were mentioned as well. The most serious of these was that the academic courses in

the Strathcona program showed little effort to include an occupational focus or

integrate with the vocational courses and that the program was too “splintered.”242

Both districts were praised for forming partnerships with various businesses in the

241
V.R. Nyberg, Executive Summary Evaluation of the Academic Vocational Program of the County of
Leduc (Edmonton: Alberta Education, 1984), 1.
242
Harders Consulting, Report on the Bev Facey Composite High School academic occupational program
and courses (Edmonton: Alberta Education, 1983), 64.
 238

community in order to secure appropriate work experience placements for the

students, and it was noted that these placements sometimes transitioned seamlessly

into eventual full-time employment for the students with the employers they’d been

matched up with.

Just as the thesis I’d just read had, these reports went out of their way to

praise the dedication, skill and enthusiasm of many of the teachers in the Academic

Occupational Programs and listed characteristics of ideal teachers of the programs.

The authors suggested teachers of such programs should: ideally have some training

in special education, be flexible as to individual needs but also firm on maintaining an

atmosphere of mutual respect, appreciate and use humour but not sarcasm (that

disqualified me, I thought), know their subject disciplines well, and enjoy teaching

students at this academic level. The classroom conditions these students were said to

require included the use of small discussion groups, hands-on activities whenever

possible, and the use of inquiry-based projects where the students and teachers

worked together on figuring out the tasks necessary to explore a particular topic. One

thing that the evaluators noted didn’t seem to work very well for most of the students

was when, on occasion, some of the teachers in the program reverted back to lecture

and note-taking types of instruction. The students were unable to keep up with the

notes.

Despite my experiences in the museum of sorting, I felt from reading these

reports, some good faith towards the creators, administrators and teachers of these

programs. I saw few of the eugenic assumptions that these students were a burden on

the system or incapable of learning. It seemed to me that I was reading an earnest

discussion of how to teach these students, with care, such that instead of

disappearing from the educational landscape, they succeeded in school and went on to
 239

live successful lives. All of these documents seemed to describe an attempt to create

an educational oasis for this group of at-risk students.

As I thought of all this, the gravity of the realization that I had just witnessed

almost a hundred years of a type of programming for slow learners that continued on

in present times in the Knowledge and Employability classes began to hang on me.

Were slow learners being lost or found in these programs? In describing the need for

this sort of programming, these documents had strongly implied that the regular

education system at the time was far too rigid and theoretical for many of its students.

Was it still so unyielding to diversity that it required this sort of intervention for slow

learners? I felt the case breaking open.

 240

XXII

I had just started reading a report on the piloting of the Integrated Occupational

Program, getting no further than the acknowledgements page, when a hand belonging

to the stunning archivist I’d been neglecting tousled my hair from behind, surprising

me slightly and making me realize how deep my distraction with all this history had

been. It slid softly down my neck, and stroked my chest. Then I heard a regretful sigh.

I was about to say, again, I’d be all hers in just a minute more when I heard a click. I

whirled around, finally giving Veronika the attention she’d deserved all along. She was

holding a pretty little pink revolver. It was so tiny that it looked at first like a toy, but

the consequences of getting this category wrong could be grave. It was pointed at my

heart. Its mouth said ‘Oh’, which, by coincidence, was exactly what I was thinking. On

second glance it didn’t look like a toy at all. It looked hard and sleek and dense.

“I know I've been neglecting you, dear, but …” my wisecrack dried out in my

mouth before I could finish it.

“Shut up Hunter.” I couldn’t hear booze in her voice anymore and, moreover, it

appeared we were no longer on a first name basis. “Insecure damsel in vintage curling

sweater desperately seeking bourbon and companionship,” she leered, mocking me

with the backstory I had believed so completely. “Willing to look up documents and ...

hook up. I even got you thinking it was you and me against the conspiracy with that

story of the mysterious borrower. Ridiculous, but I knew you'd fall for it – all of it. Too

bad you got so distracted by the first thing; we might have had some fun with the

other for a while. It wasn’t for lack of hinting.”

Mentally, I agreed it was too bad, in retrospect. I’m red-blooded as any man,

more than most likely, but it wasn’t the first time I’d jilted a potential paramour over a

curious case. The ensuing scorn was always a particularly dangerous occupational
 241

hazard. Now that I’d blown it, she looked even more alluring as she stood there

threatening and despising me. “Why?” was all I could manage. I really needed to reload

my wisecracks.

“You've been unsettling the categories. If we let you keep this up all Hell could

break loose.”

‘I haven't disturbed any categories, I've been looking for slow learners.”

“They’re not for you to look for, who do you think you are anyway?”

Who are you?” I stalled, trying to hold her glance while using my peripheral

vision to track the pistol. So far she was holding it depressingly steadily.

“That information is ...” I think she was going to say classified but then she

changed her mind. “Well I suppose it doesn't matter. When you lose all amusement

value to me, which will be pretty soon, you'll have your own permanent shift in

category and it won’t matter what I’ve told you. I work for an operation that maintains

categories ... by any means necessary.”

“Government? Corporate?” I asked.

“Not directly. More covert. We call ourselves the Arranging Angels.”

There was a trace of pride in this.

“Never heard of you.”

“We work in the shadows. We have to. We’re under constant threat.”

“You sound more like terrorists to me.” A muscle flexed in her jaw at this. It was

hard to concentrate on an escape plan even though I knew that’s what I needed to be

doing. I just wanted to appreciate the hard beauty in front of me. I asked a different

question, stalling to get my bearings. “Who hired you for this case anyway?”

“I don’t ever see the clients, not directly, it’s all rather tacit.”

“So your job at the archives …”

 242

“Part of the persona. And rather convenient. History is useful to a point; it can

help you refine your categories and methods. But you can get bogged down in it, it can

impede progress. Sometimes a little forgetting is needed to. Sometimes I help with that

forgetting.”

Staring at her, I was thinking that maybe getting together with her and

forgetting a few things might not be too bad. She hadn’t shot me yet, that was

something. I had to keep her amused one way or another. I asked another question.

“Did you and a book of matches help with some forgetting over at the Museum of

Sorting?”

“Our cells all work independently, but yes, that was probably one of us. I’ve

been on the lookout for you for several days, my colleagues too I suspect. Regrettable,

that fire. We work closely with the people who built that institute. It was very valuable

in category maintenance. But there you went, poking around in things, using what

was in there to destroy the categories, not refine them. It was safer to destroy the

institute.”

“I’m not looking to destroy anything, I’m just looking for slow learners,” I

repeated, hoping if I could put just a little doubt in her head about all the categories

that it might travel all the way down to her trigger finger.

“And you keep on finding them, and then you keep looking anyhow. Digging

up the dirt, disturbing things. What else are you playing at, if not to destroy the slow

learner category?” The more she mocked me, the more alluring she became to me. It

was sick.

“I keep looking because I’m never sure if I found them.” I was only being

partially truthful when I said this. I had wondered if the category might need to be put
 243

out to pasture, or out of its misery, but I thought saying so might make her clench

that gun-toting fist.

“Have you met adolescents with slow learner-level IQs?” she demanded.

“Well yes,” I admitted.

“Then you found the slow learners. You should have packed your bags and left

town. How stupid are you? I just solved your mystery for you in ten seconds.”

“Do you have something against slow learners, is that why you want to stop

me?” I asked. I didn’t know if this was a safe question or not, but keeping her talking

seemed the most important thing.

“Do you have something about slow learners, Hunter? What do you think will

happen if you destroy the category? From what I can tell the system figured out who

these kids were and what to do about them a hundred years ago. For one hundred

years compassionate people have been trying to give them the special attention they

need so that they can overcome the unhappiness and sense of personal inadequacy

that comes with failing in school and in life. The system has kept them out of jails and

mental hospitals and, instead, doing the routine tasks that need to be done for society

to function.243 You’re the terrorist here for wanting to blow all this up.” Her firm body

vibrated in delicious contempt but she held the gun steady.

“But still, isn’t the history behind all this sorting pretty dark? If your

organization was affiliated with the museum that burnt down you know it is.” I

thought I had a good point but wished I was doing as well wresting the gun from her.

“Mistakes were made. Omissions, excesses, sure. But just because the science

behind IQ has been misapplied, doesn’t mean we should get rid of it.”

243
See Sangeeta Chauhan, “Slow Learners: their Psychology and Educational Programs,” in Zenith
International Journal of Multidisciplinary Research, 1, No. 8 (December 2011): 288.
http://www.zenithresearch.org.in/images/stories/pdf/2011/Dec/zijmr/22_VOL%201_ISSUE8_ZEN.pdf.T
hese three arguments are paraphrased from this article.
 244

“But how,” I persevered, “can you even know if an intellectual category like slow

learner is real when the claims it makes about the students in that category seem so

contaminated by negative prejudices based on race, class, or disability?”

“There’s some risk of prejudice maybe, but there is a lot of solid empirical work

behind a measure like IQ too. And it’s the good science that purifies that which might

contaminate it. It is built right into the process.244 Maybe disabled people were treated

badly in the 1700s and 1800s because society wasn’t advanced enough to rigorously

study these people and what their needs were. Science didn’t invent mental

retardation,” I noticed her clinical word choice here, “or slowness. Science discovered

these defects and is well on the way to figuring out how to manage them. And it’s

getting better all the time. Look at how many excellent categories of disability we have

now and how much more we know about each one of them. The process works. And

you want to break it and go back to the days of ignorance.”

“Part of being enlightened is realizing that human intelligence can’t be studied

this easily, and the claims to knowledge you get are problematized by your two roles

as,” I wasn’t sure what to say next, “empirical subject and empirico-transcendent

doublet.”245 I concluded. I was surprised to hear myself saying something like this, but

the weird phrase had been sitting half-remembered in my consciousness. It was never

fully there or absent, like the lyric of a song I heard long ago, or the name of the villain

in a movie I saw as a child, or the girl with sausage curls at the theatre who held

hands with me and let me kiss her just the once which was probably why I didn’t

remember the name of the villain from that movie. I’d heard it from Michel when I was

in a pain-and-pill fog in the back of the Peugeot, and he and Jacques were having

244
Ibid., 183.
245
Michel Foucault, The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the Human Sciences? (New York: Random
House, 1994), 4.
 245

their argument about Descartes. I was feeling rather outside myself at the time, but it

had still struck me as odd. I was glad adrenaline had wrested it out of me now. I

needed all the words I could get.

“Hocus pocus words,” she scoffed. “The idea of human is exactly what entitles

us to study ourselves.246 And where would we be if we hadn’t?”247 She hadn’t really

addressed my claim with this, but I was in no position to complain. I was running out

of ammunition in this debate; some of her arguments even made a warped sort of

sense. I could see how things would appear that way from her perspective. Now that

her alluring but feigned vulnerability at the cash bar was long forgotten, I saw a

beauty that could break you in two.

“I never said that this knowledge isn’t potentially helpful,” I protested, “I’m just

learning there might be some other ways, beyond these categories of understanding

these students and their troubles in school, some ways that might help educators be

more inviting.”

“Different ways of knowing!” she scoffed. “Like you can just pull some

possibility out of the sky about how these students learn and stack it next to a

research-proven treatment and say they are equal to each other. Is it all relative then,

or maybe magic? Are you a magician? There’s only one true way to know who these

subjects are and what they need and its logical scientific inquiry. Figure out how the

slow learners learn differently, theorize different ways of getting their competencies as

close to normal as we can and measure your results.” Her cheeks now took on a

reddish hue as she spoke to her lust for clarity while drawn down on me.

246
Ibid., 386.
247
See Martin Heidegger “Letter on Humanism” in Martin Heidegger Basic Writings From Being and
Time to The Task of Thinking, trans. Frank A. Capuzzi, ed. David Farrel Krell, (London: Routledge,
1978), 239. Heidegger would assert that this sort of thinking is “directed toward” rather than of beings. In
reply to the practicality of Veronika’s question “where would we be” this would suggest that it is
excessively technical, empirical thinking that leaves us in “oblivion” of the being to which we belong.
 246

“But when you call them slow learners haven’t you already stacked the deck

about how they appear?” I managed, feeling a little hypocritical as this was the label

that I’d been using during the whole case, and because, given what my client had

hired me for, I was likely to continue to use it.

“You’re confusing names and things, Hunter.248 No matter what you call them,

these students are low average; the category below normal. You can’t make that come

and go by what you call it.”

“But isn’t normal just ...” I began.

“A hypothetical abstract. Yes, and a very good one, one that’s been helping

educators get students, including slow learners, to learn up to their potential for

years.”

“But isn’t potential ….”

Three things happened simultaneously before I could finish my question. The

first was that Veronika finally lost all patience with me. Her lovely finger squeezed the

trigger and a short sharp shot echoed through the archive. The second was that I

realized too late that I’d misjudged this encounter. This debate hadn’t aroused any

doubt at all in her. She felt the need to explain herself to some degree, maybe to hear

herself justify her own beliefs, but no matter what I could come up with in reply, there

she was, shooting me. 249 The third thing that happened was that a pair of arms

appeared behind her and redirected her aim as she was firing. The arms kept pulling,

adding a twist to her wrist until she released the pistol. The arms tried to restrain her

but she was too fast for that last indignity and broke free. Veronika turned and lashed

248
Gary M. Sasso, “The retreat from inquiry and knowledge in special education,” The Journal of Special
Education, 34 no.4, 190, doi: 10.1177/002246690103400401.
249
See Monica Vilhauer, Gadamer's ethics of play: Hermeneutics and the Other? (Toronto: Rowman and
Littlefield, 2010), p. 134. Vilhauer writes of the barrier to understanding posed when one participant in a
conversation declares “no more talk - the time for talk is over.”
 247

out with a vicious left hook but she put too much on it. A nice straight cross got to her

first, connecting to her perfect jaw with little cracking sound. She fell asleep, and

Colleen Birdseye caught her and set her into one of the plastic chairs on the periphery

of her office, the chairs that she’d insisted we sit on to keep the bourbon away from

the paperwork. After a moment’s recovery, I picked up the smoking gun.

“What are you doing here?” was all I could manage.

“Thank you might be a more appropriate response. John Williamson called me

and asked if I could help you out again on the investigation. He was afraid you’d be

too embarrassed to contact me after you ran out on me, but he said you were

encountering a lot of danger.”

I thought Williamson was reading too much of himself into that concern. I don’t

embarrass that easily. But it wasn’t worth pointing out just then. Instead I asked,

“How did you know I was here?”

“There’s only so many places slow learners, the way schools describe them,

might show up. I’ve heard some rumors about some strange events going on around

the city in some of the other places slow learners might be found, but nothing about

here yet. I figured maybe this was your next stop. Let’s get out of here.”

“What should we do about her?” I asked.

“Leave her here. I don’t think I hit her hard enough to do permanent damage.

She’s going to wake up cranky any minute now. We should be gone when she does.”

“Won’t she come after me again?”

“I don’t know if they’ll use her again. From what I could gather she wouldn’t be

that effective now that her …” she paused looking for a word, “approach has been

compromised. What’s with that sweater anyway?”

 248

It would have taken too long to explain so I just walked out of the archives with

as much dignity as I could muster. Colleen Birdseye followed me. The party was over,

the place was dark, and there were no alarms or sentries to object to our being there

or leaving. Veronika must have arranged for this during her ‘jiffy’ so she could

dispatch me undisturbed. Whoever this group she worked for was, they seemed to

have, as Trent had suggested, some pretty long tentacles.

 249

XXIII

Following our escape from the museum, Colleen Birdseye and I agreed to meet

at a coffee shop well clear of the facility to conclude the interview that I’d cut short

when I pursued the stalker. We purchased coffees and sat and sipped. Hers was

decaffeinated; I would have hated to see her on caffeine after the display I’d just

witnessed. I filled her in briefly as to where I’d been since we last spoke. She said it

sounded like I was making progress. Then I cut right to the chase and asked her a

question I’d been wondering more and more about since I started reading about slow

learners but that I’d been lacking the understanding to put so succinctly until now.

“Do schools produce slow learners?”

“I think that they can, yeah,” she replied. “I think the label itself can make the

kids go, ‘Oh, I’m a slow learner. Oh, I’m not able to do this’, instead of their looking at

other ways of learning. ‘I might not be able to read very well, I might read at the level

of my grade one brother or sister but I still can understand in a different way.’ I don’t

think schools allow students enough opportunities to show their learning ultimately,

and they do come out believing they’re slow. Slow in the way of less than as opposed

to slow in the way of struggling with academics.”

“You talked about a sort of a hierarchy between LD kids and slow learners last

time. Is that part of how schools produce slow learners too?”

“K & E is viewed as the kids that ... it’s often viewed as the kids that aren’t

worth putting the effort into. There are issues around LD too, I’ve often seen it where

no one is really looking out to see that the LD students are getting the proper

accommodations. But, when it comes to K & E, a lot of people don’t want to work with

the students because they see it as a waste of time. Unfortunately. And it’s not a waste

of time at all!”
 250

Colleen Birdseye’s observation confirmed the dynamic I’d seen in the “Birth of

LD/Sputnik” exhibit. It also related to the book that demonstrated that the slow

learner label was, at least in the 1970s when it was written, strongly connected to

social class. 250 I would have laid this all out for her as further evidence of her

suspicions but it was getting late and I wanted to stick with exploring the most

pressing concerns in the remaining time we had to talk. Along these lines, to give her

another contemporary example of the sorts of negative forecasts that I’d discovered

slow learners often face. I told her Williamson’s story of the student he’d seen in line at

the apprenticeship board, the one who’d been asked to complete an entrance exam

even though he already had the required coursework to bypass the exam.

“Wow,” she remarked, then added, “and that happens, unfortunately. Yeah, it’s

sad, and that’s … I mean, that’s part of the reason the vocational schools saw

numbers drop and that kind of thing, is because of that kind of attitude, right? That

it’s somehow less of a school if it’s a vocational school, y’know? Even though those

kids are trying to move from what’s basically a trades high school to a trades college,

right?”

“Do you think those schools do a good job of getting the students ready for trades

colleges?”

“Yes they do. Those kids go into these trades courses and they come out ready –

because the K & E occupational courses are supposed to be hands-on. Like, you are

working for three years. You are in a shop. You know how to pull a car apart and put

it back together by the time you’re done, or build a house, I mean, we build houses

on-site, right? So, you learned how to do whatever shop content you were taking. You

might not have had all the bookwork to go with it, but that’s what college is for, right?”

250
Weber, “Yes They Can,” 17.
 251

I thought of something Williamson had told me. “I’ve heard there’s been,

especially in Alberta, this move to improve the perceptions of trades work, to

emphasize that you can be an Advanced Placement student and still want to be a

mechanic, and that’s okay. Is the side effect of that maybe with this celebration of the

trades, they’ve sort of …” I dried up, not knowing how to say it.

“Academic-atize them?” I liked her word mash-up there. “Yeah. Kids can’t get

into SAIT anymore. Again, like you said, it’s the academic kids that everyone is

interested in. The auto shops … more and more they’re pushing away the lower

academic kids.”251

I’d heard some talk of multiple intelligences in my travels so far. But it seemed

to me that despite this, the assumption remained that, in terms of qualifications for

most post-secondary programs including apprenticeships, the students who had

shown up as the most ‘intelligent’ strictly by getting the highest marks in school

continued to be assumed to be the most qualified. I came up with a new question for

Colleen. I thought it might be a little unfair to try to pin her down this much but, after

all, she was tough. “What is intelligence and how does it relate to schooling?” I asked.

She took a sip of her coffee and smiled. “That’s a loaded question,” she

remarked. But then she took a shot at it anyway. “I think intelligence is ... I truly

think there’s all different kinds of intelligence, I guess? It’s ... I guess, someone’s

ability to process and understand something in various ways. How does that come out

in school?” she asked herself. “There’s a very specific type of intelligence that is

measured in schools. I think that that’s what we see and that’s what society focuses

on, that being people’s ability to memorize and people’s ability to write an exam. To be

251
See W. John Williamson, “Understanding Work Experience: A Discourse Analysis.” (master’s thesis,
University of Calgary, 2004), 101. In convergence with this source’s claim in a prior study I found clear
examples of trades recruitment / workplace placement programs for adolescents targeting students with
high academic grades and discouraging students with lower grades from applying.
 252

able to understand what the marker is going to want at the end of the day or to

understand how multiple choice exams are laid out. I think that’s what schools

honestly consider intelligence.”

I nodded.

“And I think that when ... I think other types of intelligence are just as

important in being a human being in this world.”

I nodded again.

“So, at the end of the day, there are a lot of things which aren’t looked at in

schools that are not measured. Things like being able to participate with a group of

people, and collaborate, and have conversations, and understand why so-and-so next

to you is having a bad day, and how to help that person. Relating it back to K & E,

that’s one thing that, in a K & E school, you see so much of kids helping other kids.

You see so much of kids getting together and working together for a ‘big-picture’ good.

Like, when they put our school forward for closure, the students got together and they

were down at every school district meeting. They were talking at the meetings to public

officials, they were protesting - protesting in a very productive way, not just out there

swearing, and ...”

“Throwing rocks,” I said, helping her along.

“Yeah, exactly! It was organized, it was ... they started up, like, a Facebook

page, they looked into government documents to see if the school could actually be

closed or if the district was going against human rights. They were working together

and really showing who they were as human beings. And a lot of the students involved

in that were grade thirteen kids or grade fourteen kids who would have been too old to

come back there the next year anyway. So, it was really neat to see because it wasn’t
 253

about their personal gain.

“They were looking out for those …”

“Those coming up after them. Yeah. And that’s a type of intelligence, that ... in a

school, is only celebrated if it’s in the right way in the right student with the right

issue. But for kids who see injustices that others don’t want to hear about, then that

is often seen as a behavior problem. That’s the type of intelligence, again, that is not

celebrated, and that’s where our K & E kids often suffer, the things that they are good

at and the intelligence that they have towards certain things is not valued.”

There was something about all this. I retrieved Williamson’s business card from

my wallet and took out a pen and wrote down the words ’intelligence / valued’ on the

back of it as a reminder for myself. I liked what she said and wanted to pursue it.

Birdseye started talking again, about the school closures and about some of her

students. Her stories were very informative and I listened carefully for quite a while.

Suddenly, however, I yawned a yawn of tectonic proportions. I realized I wasn’t feeling

very intelligent anymore. It had been an eventful day and I was getting sleepy. I

apologized and assured my interviewee it was the tiring case and not her stories that

had caused this reaction in me.

“Thanks for all of this,” I said. “I mean now and in the archives. I would have

got the drop on her eventually by myself but you helped.”

“We all need help from time to time,” Birdseye said evenly.

I confirmed her contact information, intending fully to call on her again if things

came up in the case that she could help me interpret. I had finally realized what a

valuable source she was. We went our separate ways. Biting my tongue to stay awake,

I drove back to the hotel, went to my room, and fell into a deep, dreamless and all too

brief sleep. After a couple of hours, I lurched awake realizing there was something I
 254

had been neglecting all the while during this investigation. I wrote this down on a

notepad by the phone beside my bed and fell back asleep. This time I didn’t sleep

dreamlessly. The tiny children were back scurrying around my dinner plate again.

I awoke early the next day. There was no need to look at the notepad, I

remembered what I needed to do. I got myself ready (donning another one of

Williamson’s teacher outfits) and out of the room in twenty minutes. I had made a

large cup of java in the machine and carried it with me to the business center,

ignoring their ‘No Food or Drink’ sign. I deposited my coins and the old desktop

computer reluctantly woke up and began to fill the room with its song of clunks and

grinding. After about fifteen minutes of research, I got what I needed to and set off to

follow up the lead. It was surprisingly warm out. A single cloud dominated the sky like

the monolithic spaceship of an alien invader, but it had brought a nice warm wind

with it. The roads were a slushy mess but for the first time since arriving in Calgary I

felt my blood freely circulate.

I reached the office and asked if Matthew Summit was available. The secretary

admonished me for not making an appointment and told me that Dr. Summit was a

very busy man. I believed that. I’d read that Summit was the leader of the team that

brought in IOP, K & E’s predecessor and the first comprehensive province-wide

vocational program for slow learners, and he continued to be involved in numerous

projects related to vocational education and job safety for young workers. Despite the

secretary’s warning, Summit walked out of his office just then. I recognized him from

some pictures I’d seen during my bit of research that morning. He was a tall, broad-

shouldered man; I figured him for mid-sixties, but he still moved with a sort of

lithesome grace. He had a plain Samsonite suitcase in one hand and a case that I

assume contained a laptop computer in the other. “Dr. Summit have you seen the
 255

slow learners?” I called out walking towards him. “My client says they’re disappearing

and he’s hired me to find them.” He paused and I caught up with him and handed him

my business card. He studied my card for a moment and an expression I took for

curiosity flitted across his face. In a faint English accent I couldn’t quite place

regionally, maybe due to the contamination of many years in Canada, he told me he

had a flight out of town in two hours, but if I drove him to the airport we could discuss

the case.

He set his belongings in the trunk of the Buick and sat in the passenger seat

seeming to enjoy the ample leg room. I started the car, got the first few turns of the

directions I needed from him, and drove off. I told him I’d been studying up on

vocational education programs for slow learners in Alberta and had recently been

learning about the Academic Vocational programs that ran, in various school districts,

from the 1960s to the mid-1980s. I told him I’d seen his name connected with the

program that followed this, the Integrated Occupation Program, and asked him to

describe his connection to it.

“You’ve learned that for as long as there has been public education there has

been some sort of vocational programming,” he began, “but many of the vocational

programs of the 1960s and 1970s were not meeting the needs of the students or of the

employers we hoped the students would work for after graduation. The vocational

programs were meant for students less likely to transition to extensive post-secondary

schooling and more likely to transition directly to the workforce, but the

unemployment rates of students from these programs were three times as high as

those of other students six months after graduation and still twice as high two years

after graduation. Though some programs in particular districts were effective, there

was, overall, a lack of consistency in the quality and approach of the site-based
 256

programs. One problem many of the programs had is they tended to overvalue

teaching the students job-specific skills over the generic skills they would need to

function in any job.”

“What was different about IOP?” I asked.

“I led a team that built it, from the ground up. First, we developed the

occupational program component of it and brought in curriculum writers to write the

academic component and ground it in the occupational component. While the mode of

instruction cannot easily be controlled, the most effective instructional strategies

involved integrating English, math, social, and science into the applied learning

opportunities provided by the occupational courses … on a need to know basis.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by this and said so.

“Needed to know for practical application. Seeing the application created

motivation and gave meaning and concreteness to learning. Similarly, all of the

occupational courses focused on instruction in generic skills such as organization,

communication, reading, writing, visual skills, and math as well as instruction in the

skills specific to that occupation.” He directed me to turn right.

I wanted to hear about the program but had another question first. “It seems

like you pretty much endorsed the definition of slow learner many of the school

districts were using in their vocational programs. How important was the concept of

slow learner in creating IOP?”

Truthfully, I’m not that attached to the slow learner label. I mean I am a slow

learner at things that don’t interest me,” he candidly replied. “Still, from a system

perspective, you try to maximize limited resources to accommodate a diverse range of

students. You try to identify the needs of various groups and set up supports to try to

meet those needs as best as possible. Systems do not like offering costly programs,
 257

and only do so if there is a clear need and if expenses can be kept under control. A

program needs criteria to become part of a bureaucratic system, part of a funding

system. Alberta Education funds students based on credits earned. IOP students were

to be funded for one and a half times per credit, I think K & E students still are,252 you

can’t do that for just any student. We were most worried about students who were two

years behind in core course capabilities, though it turned out that many students who

were enrolled in IOP were more like four to five years behind. We thought an IQ range

of seventy five to ninety plus or minus five was appropriate. The combination of these

things seemed most suggestive of a student who was at-risk of dropping out of school

without sufficient qualification for the world of work, as well as a student who did not

likely qualify to receive support from other programming such as that available for

students with intellectual disabilities, behavior disabilities and so on.”

I stopped, along with twenty cars that were ahead of me, at a light. The

long wait gave me a chance to ask a long question. “You explained how you

thought IOP did vocational programming differently or better than many of the

previous vocational programs for slow–learners. What did it do differently than

regular schooling to give these students, who’d struggled, a better chance of

success?”

“The traditional academic model sees the teacher as the fountain of all

knowledge and the role of the teacher as filling the empty vessels, the students’

minds, with their teachers’ knowledge. In the so-called Hegelian dialectic of

thesis, antithesis, synthesis, traditional schools rarely get further than thesis.”253

252
See Alberta Education, Information manual for knowledge and employability, 6. Max’s source is
correct.
253
See Leonard F. Wheat , Hegel’s Undiscovered Thesis-Antithesis-Synthesis Dialectic What Only Marx
and Tillich Understood (New York: Dover, 2012), 1-2. A thesis in this case means a proposition,
antithesis it’s negation, and synthesis a new proposition that somehow resolves the contradiction by
 258

That would have been a good line if I knew what he was talking about.

From what Williamson had told me, it sounded like he was describing teaching

methods that left little room for the voice of the student or for negotiated

understandings.

Summit continued. “The IOP model was designed to engage students in

activities that were meaningful and relevant to them … a John Dewey model of

learning by doing. Back in the early years of the program, for example, there was

a vocational school with a large IOP population that taught the students aspects

of both their occupational and academic coursework by engaging them in

building houses.”

That was the second time I’d heard about this. I silently chided myself for not

investigating this house project yet. Then I asked Summit who John Dewey was and

he filled me in and told me a little bit about him and some other ‘Progressive

educators’ from the turn of the century that he’d studied. He told me that all had

worked farming jobs or other forms of labor as youths, jobs where they sweated and

saw the results of their work, and that they often had very religious upbringings even

if they didn’t maintain conventional faith practices late in life. These experiences, he

told me, helped them develop their progressive views on education. I didn’t think there

was much for me in that just then, so I directed the conversation back to how IOP

worked. “Sounds like such a program would have to be focused a lot more closely on

the needs of each individual student than regular schooling tends to be,” I observed.

preserving the best parts of both. Though broadly attributed to Hegel, many scholars have pointed out that
he never used these terms explicitly. Additionally some critics have claimed that this triad may
oversimplify or even misrepresent his understanding of the dialectic, while others maintain this concept is
latently available in his work. None of this changes the point this informant is making about traditional
schooling.
 259

“Students come to school with KSAs; knowledge, skills and attitudes. Teachers

must use their skills to help students use their KSAs to get to a place of learning. This

is done through personalization and an approach that focuses on each student’s

strengths not their limitations.”

“Sounds like this could be challenging,” I remarked. I thought this was a pretty

lame observation on my part but I needed something to keep the conversation going.

Summit was turning out to be a good informant.

“It’s an art,” he replied. “A teacher needs to provide structure, but also be

flexible. Like a chameleon. University teacher training programs need to teach this

strategy of ‘chameleonism’.” He paused, appreciating his word choice. I couldn’t blame

him. “Teacher training programs tend to teach teachers to teach curriculum not

individuals.”

“From a systems perspective, as you said, I can see identifying measurable

differences in IQ and grade level achievement in IOP and K & E students,” I noted. I

was switching gears conversationally and on our drive. We had turned onto a busy,

slow moving highway. Unlike the many drivers jockeying to improve their positions, I

hung back and focused on the conversation. We had plenty of time and slow suited me

just fine. “But a lot of what I’ve been reading also identifies IOP students as especially

concrete learners. What do you think about this?”

“Most students are probably concrete learners, in a sense. They learn best when

learning begins with the concrete realities of their lives, their curiosities, concerns,

skills, and interests. Traditional teaching had tended to be so didactic that it left little

room for engaging students in this way.”

I had a follow-up question. “If this is the case – about most students being

concrete learners I mean – why not use the same ideas you used in IOP to make
 260

education in general more personalized and relevant to students instead of creating a

separate instructional tier for them?”

“A more integrated, discovery-based, individualized curriculum would likely

serve all learners, but my career has consisted of the possible. I was asked to look into

the needs of a vulnerable population of students and I put a team together to improve

the quality of education for them.”

“If all students benefit from these approaches, do you think that a school or

even all schools could realize a model of inclusion that was so flexible there would no

longer be a need for K and E / IOP?” I asked, pressing a little.

“Yes and no,” he replied after a pause. “Definitely no if schools continue to

proceed on a cookie cutter model. Students will continue to be turned off of

traditional schooling, and their abilities to learn and succeed will be undermined.

Beyond this, there is a time and place for segregated learning, and a time and place for

inclusive learning; it is part of personalization. You need to figure out where the

student is now in their learning, and where the student may best be placed in order to

maximize their learning potential. If there is a significant number of students with

similar learning needs, then it would appear to make sense to congregate those

students for instructional purpose.”

Summit then indicated to me that I needed to change lanes. I made sure the

driver behind me could see me and then eased the Buick in ahead of her. I waved my

appreciation of her inclusiveness.

“What are the limits that would prevent students being taught, inclusively, in

the same space instead of using congregated settings?” I asked.

“The abstract and confusing way curriculum is often written, and the careless

way it is often used, is harmful for all students but particularly so for more vulnerable
 261

populations,” he replied, pausing and then explaining further. “IOP was about using a

design down model of curriculum development. Recently I saw an educator drafting a

thirty page bit of curriculum and asked, ‘What would you like students to be able to

do at the end of all of this?’ He wasn’t sure. I said ‘Figure it out, and then state it on

the first page.’ He paused again for a minute, thinking. A passenger ahead of me had

taken advantage of the traffic coming to a dead stop to read some messages on his

Smart Phone and had failed to notice traffic was moving again. I was about to beep to

remind him, but a hundred other motorists beat me to it. He lurched ahead in a panic,

nearly running into the car ahead of him. Summit and I grinned at these maneuvers.

Then a new possibility seemed to occur to Summit and he explained it to me. “If

every teacher had to constantly answer questions from their students such as, ‘Why

do I need to know or do this?’ like the IOP students are so fond of asking, the

education system would be better. Then again, I was working with a teacher recently, I

asked her how she addressed a particular aspect of the curriculum for her course. She

said she had never seen the curriculum.”

“Can anything be done about that issue?” I asked.

“Alberta Education does a less than efficient job in orienting teachers to deliver

new curriculum. IOP might have been the last time the Minister of Education

provided regional in-servicing and I had to fight to get it. It tends to be seen as a

school system responsibility. Teachers need to know and understand the curriculum

they’re asked to teach… understanding is a catalyst for learning. Our IOP teacher

orientation sessions focused on teaching the teachers to engage students in reflective

learning activities, and encourage the students never to see things as facts, and to

challenge assumptions.”
 262

“Were you educated under a system that was more inclusive or more

congregated?” I asked, steering the conversation back to this topic.

“In England, at eleven years of age, students were sorted into one of two

streams; Grammar School for those students on an academic track and potentially

capable of going on to university, Technical Modern School, focusing on trade / career

education for those less academically inclined. There wasn’t a lot of room for

movement. I was put on the academic track.”

“But you ended up working in the trades area of educational programming,” I

observed. “How did that come about?”

“As a twelve-year-old and for some years after, I worked in my uncle’s

barbershop and did lots of practical work and learned to value the learning by doing

model.”

I saw a sign indicating an upcoming turnoff to the airport. I figured this was

about as far as I could push a discussion on inclusive education with Summit. He had

many ideas about what might make school more inclusive for all students; that is to

say, include them more authentically in what they are learning and in communities of

learning. What he didn’t seem to have was the mindset that separate or congregated

classrooms for different levels of students were inherently unjust in any way. I, on the

other hand, could see lots of good reasons a person might develop this latter view;

Smart Ass cripple’s educational experiences for example, or a careful viewing of the

exhibits in the museum of sorting that I’d visited. Still, I could detect no derisive

assumption in his practical description of who the IOP students were, at least

tentatively, and what could reasonably done to support their progress through a

school system that was too rigid and academic for them. In that sense, what he was
 263

saying rang true to me.254 I was curious about why IOP changed to K & E and what he

thought about the differences between the two approaches. As I took the turn, I asked

him the first of these questions.

“There was the perception that, in schools that blended high school diploma level

courses and IOP, which every school did to some degree, it was too hard to administer

both programs at the same time. The amounts of credits, which related to the amount

of instructional hours students were to spend in the classes didn’t match up. Five

credit courses were easier to program than half day occupational courses. These

changes were explained as making it more flexible for students, but IOP was always

flexible for students, with multiple transfer points to the high school diploma tier. The

K & E model was seen to provide a simpler model for in-school organization. It moved,

in my opinion from a student focused model to an administration focused model.” I

remembered hearing a similar observation from one of the teachers I’d visited with in

the staff room.

A thought that had occurred to me much earlier in the case suddenly came back

to me and I asked about it. “When I was reading up on K & E and IOP, it seemed like

there was a lot more about what these students needed to thrive, educationally, in the

IOP manual. The K & E manual seemed stripped of a lot of this. Almost watered down.

Am I right about this?”

“Yes, I believe that was deliberate,” Summit remarked. There it was, slow

learners not so much falling, as being pushed through the cracks. Maybe the quality

of K & E as a form of programming for slow learners had something to do with the

shockingly low number of students who were taking it.

“The possibility that the other person may be right is the soul of hermeneutics.” Hans – Georg
254

Gadamer in Jean Grondin, Introduction to Philosophical Hermeneutics Trans. J. Weinsheimer (New

Haven: Yale, 1994), 12.
 264

“Bureaucratic proceduralism – this is what kills good programming,” 255

Summit added after a minute. “Here is another example of the stupidity,” he added.

“The K & E classes are not named as sixteen-level classes anymore. Now they’re dash

four (-4) classes. As long as we have tiered classes there will always be indications for

more challenging classes and for less challenging classes. What difference does it

make? Dash – four was seen as less demeaning than sixteen, really?”

I saw a 747 descending up ahead. We were nearing the airport. I had time for

one last question. “But isn’t the idea of placing students in a separate program that is

obviously intended for significantly weaker learners already potentially demeaning?

What is the cost of these kinds of programs for the self-image of the students?” I’d

decided earlier not to pursue further discussion of what inclusion meant, but

Summit’s use of the word ‘demeaning’ in ridiculing the course numbers made it hard

to resist.

“It all depends on the program,” he insisted. “If it’s an effective program, it will

treat students as people who are able to learn, and they will learn. If it’s perceived as

a program for dummies, the program will be destructive to students. If you think

they’re dumb and you treat them as though they’re dumb they won’t disappoint you.”

I pulled into passenger drop off and thanked Summit for his candor as he

thanked me for the ride. Before he got out of the car, Summit gave me the names of a

few curriculum leaders currently working with the K & E series of classes and told me

where I could find them. Then he offered a theory about how to find justice for slow

learners that didn’t make much sense to me at the time. He told me to look to my own

methods for an answer. I felt there was practical wisdom in so much of the rest of

255
The source actually said “Bureaucracy.” “Bureaucratic proceduralism” was a phrase suggested to me
by Dr. Jim Field in personal communication.
 265

what he said; I hoped I might gather some more clues to shed some light on this last

cryptic statement.
 266

XXIV

There were a couple of other places I’d planned on checking out that day.

Talking to a former leader of programming for slow learners had been quite helpful

and I wanted to pursue more of these kinds of sources. The informants Summit had

suggested I spring interviews on next were way across town from the airport so I

thought I might make a stop along the way and try to catch up with some of the

students from the K & E class I’d met a few days back. After talking to Summit, I had

a few more questions for them too if I could get to them.

I wasn’t sure what the fallout from my substitute imposter routine had been,

but I didn’t think it wise to return to the school itself. It was, however, getting to be

near the lunch break and, on the day I’d played substitute, I had noticed a student

from the K & E class discarding a bag from a fast food joint, Burgeropolis I recalled, on

his way in. As I made my getaway, I saw that the restaurant was right across the road

from the school. I thought, if I had any luck, I might see one or more of the K & E

students on this occasion if I waited for them at the restaurant. If it turned out the

kids had been warned to stay away from the interloping substitute, it’d be easier to

make a getaway from this neutral location. I drove to the restaurant and presumed

from the how empty the place was that I’d arrived shortly before the school lunch

break started. The restaurant itself was a pretty standard burger joint except for a

series of cityscapes from all over the world hanging on the walls, each with

‘Burgeropolis’ scrolled across the top in neon pink handwriting. Considering this was

the first restaurant of this franchise I’d ever seen, I thought this vision of world

domination a little too ambitious. The tackiness didn’t dull my appetite. Having

skipped breakfast, I was ravenous but I only ordered a coffee for now, thinking it

might be more convivial to break bread with the students if they showed up, as long as
 267

they didn’t run or call the cops at the sight of me. The paper coffee cup bore a photo of

the Empire State Building.

As I was waiting, I thought more about Dr. Summit. I wondered how many of

the actual Integrated Occupational Programs that districts set up in schools had lived

up to his vision. In his insistence that IOP was a program with a distinct approach to

learning for a distinct population of students, I thought Summit could be seen by

those who favoured inclusion of all students in blended learning communities as

unprogressive. On the other hand, I thought the actual concept of learning he

presented with IOP sounded progressive and familiar in many ways, and I even

wondered if any of these same ideas would be appear in the upcoming changes to

special education and to education in general that Williamson had told me about,

another lead I still needed to pursue.

In light of what I’d learned from Summit, I considered the ideas of one of the

hermeneutic scholars Williamson had told me about, though I couldn’t remember

which one. As Williamson explained it, this scholar had given a speech critiquing the

university experience in his times while insisting on the continuing potential of the

university to disseminate a culture of intellectual freedom and solidarity between

inquiring learners. 256 Williamson had mentioned that one of this scholar’s chief

concerns was that overcrowding and bureaucratic responsibilities tended to restrict

the professors’ abilities to work with their students in collegial relationships. He had

suggested professors ideally ought to work alongside the students, with ideas, as more

experienced fellow learners. He’d bemoaned the separation of academic disciplines into

various departments which rarely worked together. He’d complained that instead of

Hans-Georg Gadamer, “The Idea of the University ---Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow” in Hans-Georg
256

Gadamer On Education, Poetry, and History: Applied Hermeneutics, ed. Dieter Misgeld and Graeme
Nicholson, Trans. Lawrence Schmidt and Monica Reuss (Albany: SUNY, 1986), 47 - 52.
 268

“living with ideas” 257 the life of a student often entailed scurrying between smaller

academic tasks, and that the disciplines of study were too focused on training the

students in the narrow skills demanded in the professions. This philosopher hadn’t

laid out a systematic program to improve this situation as much as a spirited

reminder that whatever obstacles students and professors faced, that “everyone's task

to find his [sic] free space [and that] the task of our human life in general is to find free

spaces and learn to move therein.”258

Had Summit and his team been trying to create “free spaces” for slow learners

and their teachers? In listening to the man’s personal views, and in what I’d been able

to read in the curricular documents for IOP, this desire seemed evident. It remained,

however, a program for a group of students defined by academic deficits, and a

program that handed out a separate and, in the eyes of most, lesser graduation

credential to its completers.259 It was like those perspective drawings I’d been shown

so long ago in my police training, the ones they used to teach us how eyewitnesses are

always seeing events from their own, biased points of view. If you looked at a picture

from a certain angle, you saw one thing – in one case, an old hook-nosed witch, chin

jutting creepily out of a jacket that concealed her neck and lower jaw. She was staring

out into the world with cruel beady eyes. If you looked from a different angle, you saw

257
Ibid., 53.
258
Ibid., 59.
259
See Alberta Education, Report on Consultation for Policy Change, 12. One of the recommendations
that came out of a series of province-wide consultations with stakeholders concerning the potential
revision of the Integrated Occupational Program was that IOP completers receive a high school diploma,
not an alternate credential. This recommendation was obviously not adopted in the policies governing
Knowledge and Employability classes. Completers still only earn a certificate Most of the students and
teachers I interviewed considered this alternate certificate of completion a negative aspect of K & E.
 269

the other thing, a young pretty fashion model type, turned coyly away from you. It was

impossible to see both at the same time.260

If I looked at IOP one way, I saw a plan to create for these complex students

freer spaces of learning than regular education students would have access to. If I

looked at it another way, I saw a continuing agenda to separate slow learners so they

wouldn’t slow the class down or cause trouble, maybe even a program that, despite

Summit’s egalitarian intentions, functioned to groom them for entry level labour jobs

occupying the bottom rung of the ladder of social class. The hag and the looker; I

couldn’t see both at the same time. Then I thought maybe I was misjudging them,

which one was the good program in my metaphor? Was there kindness too in those

old beady eyes? And what was the young one hiding, turned away like she was? I

hadn’t had a lot of luck with the appearance of beauty lately. The last stunning

brunette I’d met had tried to get me filed under ‘disappeared’ in the archives.

My thoughts were interrupted by a short sharp buzz, like a sound recording of

an angry hive of hornets, dubbed over itself a few times to make it sound extra

menacing. A dismissal buzzer. It was lunch time at the school. After a minute or two,

groups of students milled into the restaurant. The place was packed to about three-

quarters capacity in about two minutes, the small crowd better reflecting the

pretensions of the restaurant’s title. I was beginning to doubt my luck when two of the

students I’d met, accompanied by one I’d never seen before, walked into the restaurant

via a side door.

They noticed me and walked over to my table. “Hey it’s the sick-in-the-pants

substitute,” Hope quipped, referring to the distress I’d affected to get out of the

classroom. This was less than flattering, but at least suggested my cover hadn’t been

260
Eric W. Weisstein, "Young Girl-Old Woman Illusion" MathWorld --- A Wolfram Web Resource,
accessed September 3, 2014, http://mathworld.wolfram.com/YoungGirl-OldWomanIllusion.html.
 270

blown. “Seriously,” she said, now wearing a concerned face. “How are you doing? We

were worried after you took off so fast.”

“I’m fine now, thanks,” I said. “It was just a twenty-four hour virus. It sure hit,

though, I had to get out of there.” I rubbed my stomach and made a frowning face.

“Sorry I couldn’t stay for longer.”

“Yeah, me too. That was the most interesting class I had all week,” added

Arturo. “This is Paul, by the way,” he added, noticing that we’d not been introduced.

“He was absent the day you came by.”

“Skipping class,” accused Hope, giggling.

“Not your business,” Paul retorted, but, without malice, more as a gentle

reminder of courtesy.

“Nice to meet you Paul,” I jumped in, hoping to cut off further discourse on this

topic. “Can I buy you guys lunch?” I then offered. “I’m still trying to learn more about

K & E so I can get more subbing gigs. I have a couple more questions for you, we could

eat and chat.” None of them objected to this plan. I fished some colourful Canadian

money out of my wallet and sent them up the line to order for us. I thought quickly

about what I wanted to ask them about.

They arrived with the food, a delicious assortment of meat, grease and cheese.

We divided it amongst ourselves and ate without saying much for a while.

“What do you guys think about when you hear the words ‘slow learner’ and ‘K &

E’ student together?” I asked, breaking the silence with a tough question.

“People in K & E most likely have disabilities. We can’t learn in a short period of

time, we can’t process that quickly so we’re not in higher level classes,” Paul replied,

pretty quickly and concisely I reflected.

“Does processing speed matter?” I asked.

 271

“Of course it does,” said Hope. “Some people are slow, some people are fast,

some people can’t remember, some people can.”

I wasn’t sure where she was going with that, so I pulled some of the disability

studies I’d been learning about out of my toolbox and asked another question. “But

how do things get called disabilities? Suppose a student understands something she’s

supposed to read much more easily if she can hear it at the same time. What is that?

Is that a disability?”

“It’s a difference,” Paul said. “If you can comprehend it by reading silently or by

reading and listening to it at the same time, then either way you have good

comprehension. It’s just a difference in how you read.”

“Who gets to say what a disability is?” I asked.

“Teachers and administrators get to say,” Hope replied. “When I was in grade

nine I was tested. I thought I did pretty good on it – I thought I was good at math and

vocabulary, but they said I had a disability.”

“When I was in grade six,” Paul said, “all the other students were doing division.

I didn’t really understand it and the teacher just assigned it, she didn’t really teach it,

so for pretty much the whole unit I just went over to the class computer and screwed

around on it. Nobody really stopped me. Then at the start of grade seven they tested

me and after that they put me in an isolated room with a few other kids for all my core

classes. I didn’t even have English, Math, Social or Science grades on my report card

after that. The report card just had my option classes and then said I was in the LD –

learning disabled – Program. It was just called LD.” Paul’s voice was calm but his face

betrayed the anger and confusion he still felt. He took a sip of his soft drink and didn’t

say anything more. I thought the name of the class made it sound like class’s main

purpose was to teach the kids the correct ways to be disabled but I didn’t say so, Paul
 272

seemed angry enough about it already.261 I found myself questioning what I thought

I’d gleaned about learning disabled always being a higher status disability. There was

little to suggest this in Paul’s description of how the label had been applied to him.

Maybe it didn’t always work that way. I also saw that the application of the LD label

had not prevented his subsequent placement in a class for slow learners. Maybe the

categories and interventions bled into each other more than I realized.

Hope broke in, interrupting my reflection. “In grade nine I got called lots of

names. Actually not just grade nine, all through my life I’ve been bullied. They called

me retarded.”

“Me too,” Arturo said.

Having exchanged their stories of names and labels, the students all fell silent.

We all just sat sipping and eating. Finally, shifting gears, I asked, “What do you think

about the K & E Certificate?”

Paul answered first. Maybe he was talking so much because he didn’t get his

say the last time I visited. “I think it’s okay, if it weren’t for it we’d be graduating with

nothing. With the certificate at least you can go somewhere.”

“At least we get some kind of credential when we graduate. I heard in the

intellectual disability programs they don’t get anything.” Arturo said. 262

261
See Julie Allan, “Foucault and the Art of Transgression.” In Rethinking Inclusive Education, 94. Allan
describes how in special education programing students are often given “the imperative to perform …
impairment in public.”
262
See Alberta Education, “Certificate of School Completion,” Alberta Education – Supporting Every
Student, Accessed November 2, 2014,
http://www.education.alberta.ca/admin/ supportingstudent/schoolleaders/certificate.aspx. As a student
perception of the value of some congregated programs for students with intellectual disabilities this is a
troubling statement that requires consideration. On the level of “truth as correspondence,” however, the
student is incorrect. The provincial government grants a school-leaving certificate for students with
diagnosed intellectual disabilities who complete at least twelve years of school but whose programs do
not include core classes on the high school diploma track or the K & E certificate track.
 273

“And with the work experience part of K & E they help you find a job doing

things you are interested in,” Arturo joined in.

“Yeah … with the K & E Certificate you could get a job as a manager

somewhere,” Hope added. “You don’t have to start at the bottom if you apply for a job.”

I thought that the idea of this credential allowing one to start a manager’s position was

overly hopeful on Hope’s part, but I was nevertheless beginning to see the utility of

helping the students find and maintain job placements as they began to explore

careers. I could see where the success they’d experienced with this during high school,

might help them find better jobs after high school and have more success at these

jobs. I thought I might have to investigate this further. Another thing that surprised

me was hearing them talk this positively about the K & E certificate. I thought of a

question that was similar to one I’d asked Summit to further probe their feelings.

“Do you think if regular education was more flexible there would still be a need

for K & E? Could everyone take the high school diploma instead?” I asked.

“I don’t want to write diploma exams, I’ve heard they are pretty hard,” Hope

said.

“Why would you make an exam like that worth fifty percent? If you’re doing well

in that class like with an eighty percent and you fail the exam it could pull your mark

down too much.” Arturo said.

I’d already been over this with prior informants, so I didn’t ask any of them to

elaborate on their thoughts on diploma exams. Paul spoke next, answering my

question from a different perspective.

“I guess in K & E we are just doing a lot of the same work from the next level up

but slowed down so maybe it’s not that different. A lot would depend on the teacher,”

Paul said.
 274

“What kind of teaching might make things more fair, or accessible, for K & E

students?” I asked, going with Paul’s assertion.

“Make the teachers actually teach,” Hope said. “Don’t treat us like babies but

still help us. Get teachers that know how to teach K & E students.”

“The teachers just read the textbook out loud,” Arturo jumped in. “They need to

break things down the definitions with examples. Give us examples. Tell us stories.”

“I’d like to know more interesting stuff about how the Natives lived, or

imperialism, or globalization, or the Boxer Rebellion. Not just what’s in the textbook,”

Paul said.

“Even at the K & E level, this other student in our Social Studies class is so

lost I have to help him. I give him the answers, like ‘it was the Chinese’ if that’s what

one of the questions was asking for,” Hope added.

“That’s not helping, it’s sort of cheating,” Arturo said. Hope blushed a bit.

By then we were all nearly finished eating. For a while my three companions fell

to discussing matters less to do with teaching and learning. I smiled and nodded from

time to time, but had little to add. Shortly before we went our separate ways, though,

the topic of the talent show that had taken place at the school came up. Hope pulled

out her cell phone and found a video of Jonah. Actually she had to tell me it was

Jonah because he was wearing a ski mask like some sort of psycho killer in a movie.

She said he always liked to wear a mask when he performed. He was juggling again,

but this time it was swords (with blunted blades for the sake of safety she hastened to

tell me) and riding a unicycle all to the rhythm of a frantic hip hop tune. A crowd of a

hundred or so students seated on bleachers were cheering wildly. Hope told me he

came in second in the talent show. I didn’t think anyone was grading on a curve.
 275

XXV

Getting back into the Buick after my lunch with the students, I reflected that

I’d not detected anyone tailing me all morning. They probably assumed that Veronika

had taken care of me, and were probably waiting on confirmation from her. But it was

only a matter of time before they figured out I was still on the case. The disconnect

between my two morning experiences was bothering me. It was almost inspirational

hearing about the intent of IOP as Summit explained it. But then I talked to the

students. I was haunted especially by the words “it wasn’t even a real class” spoken

about a class for students with learning disabilities. IOP seemed to be conceived as a

“real class” in terms of intent and comprehensiveness, but to what degree did the

sorting and labelling that was built into it make it appear otherwise to the students?

Then there was K & E. Did K & E do a better or worse job managing the whole

labelling issue than its predecessor IOP had? Were K & E classes seen as “real

classes?” At a stop light, I fished Williamson’s business card out of my wallet and

wrote “not a real class” on it. I’d have to pursue that idea later.

I decided to make another stop on my journey across town to meet the

Curriculum Leaders Summit had suggested I see. After my conversation with the

students, I realized that in order to be prepared for the interviews there were some

questions I needed answered first. My client seemed as good of a source as any. I

thought I’d try to catch him by email, I figured it would be faster than the school

switchboard, so I drove to an internet café. It was a small and slightly run-down

building sitting by itself on a side street just off the main road. It had sort of a half-

hearted hippy vibe inside, prices for coffee and baked goods, along with caricatures of

sixties musicians and lyrics from songs from the era were written in coloured chalk on

a blackboard. Strings of beads were hung instead of a door, closing off the back
 276

hallway where the bathrooms were. The cashier was a lanky, bored-looking teen who

was in no hurry to conclude the game he was playing on his cellular phone and serve

me. I wished he was a student worker whose teacher might come by and chide him

over his lack of manners. “Bonnie and Clyde” by Serge Gainsbourg and Brigitte Bardot

was playing. I reflected that I hadn’t heard that number in twenty years. It was still too

soon to hear it again. A current of empathy for the cashier, who I thought might have

to endure it on a daily basis, ran through me. Still stuffed full with meat, cheese and

grease from Burgeropolis, I bypassed the baked goods and bought a coffee and twenty

minutes of computer time.

I sat at a desktop with tie-dye decals, logged into my account, and began

composing a message to Williamson. “Williamson, it’s Hunter,” I started in case that

wasn’t apparent from my email address, shamus13@ operative.com. I briefly thought

of telling him I felt close to having some answers for him, but a weird feeling came over

me as I considered making this claim. So all I wrote was, “I have a couple questions –

you available?” I hit send.

A reply to my message came back right away. “For a minute – my class is

writing a test.”

“You worked under both IOP and K & E, right?” I remembered him saying this

but asked anyway to open the conversation.

“Yes. Four years in IOP, the rest after the switch to K & E.”

“Were the programs very different?” I asked.

A longer pause this time. Eventually he replied. “Quite a bit. When it was IOP,

the way my school implemented it, the kids spent half days at worksites for four out of

their six semesters of high school. A major part of the job for me and my colleague
 277

back then involved supervising them at the jobs we had found for them. It was pretty

extensive on the work experience education, sometimes too much.”

“Weren’t community partnerships recommended in the IOP curriculum?” I

remembered Summit saying something about that, I also remembered one of the

teachers in the staff room of the school I substituted in saying something about

working at a school that ran IOP similarly to what Williamson was describing.

“Not that extensively,” Williamson replied. “The way we used to do it involved

way more work experience than the IOP curriculum recommended.”263

“Why so much then?” I asked, the question being so obvious it practically asked

itself. There was a long pause before I got a reply to that one.

“Basically, we couldn’t get the kids in the school’s shop facilities a lot of the

time. The IOP certificate required the students do forty credits or a thousand hours of

occupational courses, which was a lot. It would have meant making room for the IOP

kids for half the day in the school’s shops for several of their semesters of high school.

The programs of studies were different between, say, an IOP welding course and a

regular education welding course, and the school had enough enrolment at the regular

education level to fill the shops all day long. Also the IOP kids weren’t exactly seen as

the sort of students teachers would want to go out of their way to work with. So, for

the most part, the IOP kids had to be sent elsewhere to get their occupational credits.”

“That’s a damn shame,” I wrote. “The kids who might have needed the shop

environment most badly being steered away like that.” I thought of the beautiful shop

facilities at Williamson’s school and the slow learners who were locked out of them.

263
See Alberta Education, IOP Occupational Component 16–26–36 (Edmonton: Crown in Right of
Alberta, 1992), 9. The program of studies for the occupational course component of IOP recommend that
only 20% of a student’s instruction should come through community partnerships at the grade 10 level,
40% at the grade 11 level and 60% at the grade 12 level.
.
 278

Then I thought of the now-closed schools Colleen Birdseye had spoken of that

specialized in IOP and how the shop classes at those schools must have been

specifically designed for the inclusion of IOP students.

“It wasn’t quite as bad as that,” Williamson clarified. “It wasn’t so much a

conspiracy to exclude the IOP kids from the shop classrooms. A lot of them did end up

taking a class or two in one of the shops when they just enrolled in them as regular

kids, not as IOP students. Some of them did okay, though all the bookwork that went

with the courses was always a problem. It was more like an unwillingness to teach the

IOP curriculum in the shops, figure out a way to teach both levels in the same place at

the same time, to make getting the IOP kids through with the specific course credits

they needed a priority of any sort. And, like I said, the courses were different; the IOP

mechanics looked a lot different than the regular CTS mechanics, teaching both at the

same time would have been a tough balancing act. But not impossible - one time a

shop teacher made an exception for an IOP kid he got along really well with. That

student did end up working in one of the school shops for IOP course credits and it

went okay. But as a rule it didn’t work out well. So, the students ended up doing the

occupational component off campus mostly.”

I wasn’t sure if Williamson’s clarification consoled me or not; was failure to

accommodate any better than intent to exclude? If they got one favored student

through IOP using the school shops, would it really have been that hard to get the rest

of them through this way too? I also wondered how much attention Williamson was

paying to his class as he typed his detailed replies. They were probably hanging from

the rafters by now. But it wasn’t any of my business and this was useful information

he was providing. We’d exhausted that topic, so I asked another question. “How did it

go doing these credits off campus, with employers?” I asked.

 279

“Sometimes great. A lot of the students got what they were supposed to out of

it. Some of the students responded really well. If we matched the kids up with good

employers who really mentored them well, and found work they were well suited-to,

the students gained a lot of confidence both at their worksites and back at school.

Some of the students thrived so much at their worksites it was like they were

completely different people than the sullen pupils we saw in the morning – they’d greet

us with smiles and proudly show us around their worksites like they belonged there.

With all that interaction in more adult-oriented environments, many of the students

left IOP with more confidence than I think they would have had if they just stayed in

regular education. Some of the kids kept on working with their employers after

graduation earning full-time positions, even journeyman tickets eventually, if they

were working in the trades.”

“That’s great,” I typed. Maybe there was something to this approach. “Sounds

like in these cases, your school found a very effective way to work the IOP

requirements around your limited resources.”

A longer pause this time before the answer popped up. “Maybe I’m being too

nostalgic,” Williamson admitted. “There were lots of problems too. It was hard for IOP

students who wanted to do extra-curricular activities with the rest of the kids in the

school because they’d have to leave at the start of the lunch break to get to their

worksites on time and, typically, couldn’t make it back to the school in time for the

dismissal bell at the end of the day. So it set them apart and actually reinforced the

stereotype that the IOP kids were too apathetic to be involved in the school teams and

clubs because those were the times when the clubs and teams met. There were some

employers that, I felt, exploited the students, who they didn’t have to pay under the

rules of the program. They just gave them repetitive jobs and never taught them any
 280

specialized skills they could take away from the placements. Some employers did their

best but just weren’t really set up that well to deal with student workers, despite their

good intentions. And, other than learning how to function in a workplace, the actual

curricular learning was often pretty dubious. At the start of a placement we usually

didn’t even have any idea what occupational courses we should credit the students for

at the end. We’d just sort of pick the closest curriculum to what their employers ended

up asking them to do at work, and, if none of them fit, we’d choose the most generic of

the courses, Business Services I think it was called.264 As an educational enterprise it

was often pretty random. And some of the students just weren’t ready for the world of

work. What do you do with a slow learner, appropriately placed in IOP, who is

scheduled to go to work every afternoon but who keeps getting fired from his

worksites?”

That was a good question. “Send him back to regular education?” I speculated.

“Where he’s already shown he can’t function? Where there are few classes

offered he can have success in?” Williamson asked back. A second later I got another

message, this one answering the riddle. “Every semester administration withdrew IOP

students from school because they couldn’t function at their worksites, even if they

were passing their on-campus classes in the morning. It was against the rules to be a

half-time student in grades ten and eleven.”

“Weren’t they all half time students?” I asked.

“Half-time at school / half at work, not half-time in classes / half-time causing

trouble in the halls or parking lot,” Williamson wrote back.

That seemed to me a pretty ruthless way to deal with struggling students, only

offering the occupational part of the program through one mode of delivery and

264
Ibid., 3.
 281

kicking out anyone who didn’t match up well. It reminded me of the nightmare I had

about the boxing and slicing machine. I wondered how well I would have done in IOP

under this setup. I’d been fired several times for insubordination until I finally found

an employer more tolerant of my wisecracks – myself. Even so, I was usually on thin

ice with me too. This was all interesting, but it occurred to me we were discussing a

program that no longer existed so I moved on. “Is it different under K & E?”

Several seconds went by and then an answer came back again. “Yes. They

reduced the amount of occupational credits K & E students have to get and better

aligned it with regular education. The K & E students can now use regular education

CTS classes as part of their Certificate of Achievement, 265 which is a pretty good

reason for the teachers to include them in these classes and try to work with them,

and the teachers often do a good job of meeting their needs. We use our learning

centre area to help them with the bookwork and accommodate them on the tests in

the CTS classes when we need to – that helps too. And even if they couldn’t do the CTS

classes the new K & E occupational classes are the same amount of credits which

might make it easier to teach them simultaneously, though I haven’t often experienced

that as necessary.” This chafed a little against Summit’s statement that the changes

from IOP to K & E were unnecessary; in Williamson’s school it seemed to have made a

difference in getting the slow learners in the shops they should have been in to begin

with. Then again, the prior method of delivering IOP Williamson had described as his

school’s approach sounded like it fell short of fully embracing IOP as the program had

been intended, so gleaning any meaning from comparison might have been unfair. I

also wondered if inclusion in the CTS classes was really going as seamlessly as

Williamson suggested. One of the teachers I’d spoken to earlier had complained about

265
Alberta Education, Information Manual for Knowledge and Employability, 23.
 282

how bookish the courses were. Were accommodations really all it took to make the

courses more accessible?

Fearful that Williamson might have to go at any minute, I shelved my follow-up

questions about the CTS classes and asked for a clarification on something else

instead. “So there’s no more work experience?”

Another short pause and then an answer. “There’s still a little – the Certificate

still requires one hundred and twenty-five hours of work experience, which is more

achievable than a thousand I guess. But the other way we could really focus on getting

them good placements and helping them keep them. The time was built into our

teaching schedules. We’re too busy teaching them classes now to have time for this.

Now we just have to hope they can keep ANY part-time job or volunteering gig for that

amount of time to fulfill the requirement. We don’t really have time anymore to call up

employers and find placements for the students, or monitor the placements very

carefully to make sure the kids are learning anything. For the students who would

have benefited from doing a lot of work experience with a variety of good employers,

and from having a constant teacher presence to advocate for them in the workplace, I

think this is a loss.”

From what I could tell from what the students at the other school said,

someone had helped them find work experience positions, so maybe it wasn’t as hard

to find a way to help the students with this requirement as Williamson suggested. But

I didn’t want to insult him just then so I went for a more neutral question. “Why are

you too busy teaching the students their classes now?”

“The length of time spent in the core classes doubled from IOP to K & E.”

“Is that for the better?”

 283

“Maybe for some. I guess if your plan is to boost your skills and move back into

regular education doing more K & E English, Science, Social or Math to get ready for

the transition makes sense, but for some of the students I think it’s too much. They’ve

suffered a lot in these courses already by the time they hit high school. They’d have

been better off doing the shorter classes and more work experience.”

I remembered what Summit had said about the core classes being on a “need to

know” basis in IOP. I asked Williamson, “What are the K & E core classes like?”

A reply came back. “We always ended up teaching the student as much as the

curriculum, under both IOP and K & E. I mean we end up trying to help them figure

out things they are wondering about or struggling with as much as following the

curriculum. But there’s definitely less occupational stuff in the new K & E programs of

study. And the cores make no attempt to really integrate the subject with the

occupational side anymore. It’s more like a watered-down version of the regular

education curriculum.”

“Was it healthier and safer for slow learners under IOP, or is it better under K &

E at your school?” I asked, going for a big question this time.

“I don’t know,” Williamson wrote back. “Despite the problems with all the work

experience, that transformative thing that happened – when the students sometimes

really found a place to belong at the worksites – that doesn’t happen anymore. Maybe

K & E still improves their motivation simply by giving them classes they can have

some success at, but the changes in the students aren’t as dramatic. Then again, IOP,

at least the way we ran it, didn’t work for everyone. We lost kids who needed it, who

couldn’t handle the high school diploma route, but who didn’t fit with our model of

delivery. But we lose kids this way too with K & E, we aren’t really offering an

educational experience that is different enough from the one that’s failed them. And it
 284

looks so similar to regular education; a lot of schools in my district seem to be

questioning why it’s needed at all lately. K & E is pretty much dead in a lot of schools

in the district lately and, like I said, I constantly have to explain why I think it’s a bad

idea to combine the K & E students and kids from the next level up in the same core

classes.”

I wondered if I should tell Williamson that one party he’d have to explain that to

were the students I’d met who said they preferred their blended science class to their

discrete K & E social studies class. But then I surprised myself by remembering a

technicality I’d learned – the tier of science the K & E kids were blended in with didn’t

have a diploma exam. The teacher probably had more wiggle room for everyone. Then

again, Colleen Birdseye had said she taught English, a course sequence that ended in

a diploma exam, in blended classes where students could receive credits at the IOP or

the regular education level. But she’d done this at a school that specialized in IOP so

maybe she’d found a way to give the IOP level students what they needed while

enriching the experience for the few who could handle it. Maybe this was different

than watering down a regular education curriculum for a handful of IOP students in a

class.

Another message popped up. Williamson had been doing some musing of his

own and now offered this statement. “IOP had problems. But everywhere I look, K & E

is dying. And I’m not sure there’s anything out there to replace it or address the needs

of slow learners. That’s why I hired you, remember?” I read that last sentence as a

little cranky. Maybe the guilt of all the students he’d seen withdrawn from school was

getting to him. Or maybe I was wrong on his tone. It was hard to tell with email. “I

have to go,” Williamson then wrote tersely, leaving me to wonder if he was signing off

to deal with a student behavior crisis in the class that his distraction with my
 285

questions had allowed. But then, as an afterthought, he sent me a few links to review

so I figured he was fine. It probably wasn’t the first time Williamson’s K & E students

had been ignored by a teacher but I hoped that, at least in the class he taught, it was

a rare event.

The first was a link to a 1991 study someone had done about an Integrated

Occupational Program in a mid-sized Albertan town.266 The author, who had done the

study as a part of a doctorate degree in education, had devised a scale of program

effectiveness based on the goals articulated in available literature about IOP. He found

that in terms of voluntary admission to the program, concrete application of concepts

taught, individualized and goal-directed instruction, counsellor services and cross over

to regular education, I.O.P. at this particular school was falling well short of the vision

articulated in the program descriptor. Unlike the high school programs Williamson

and my other interview subjects had worked in, this Integrated Occupational Program

had no high school component. Students either left school at the end of grade nine or

moved on to regular education in high school and, of the students who stayed in

school, sixty-seven percent failed in the high school diploma route. The author found

the results inconclusive in terms of whether or not the students actually gained either

generic or job-specific skills. He did, however, commend the program for supporting

student development in a variety of areas, including group decision making and

community involvement (in addition to the individual work experience placement the

entire class performed volunteering duties such as renovating a baseball diamond)

and noted the program a “nurturing environment of positive relations, self-esteem

enhancement and high expectations.” 267 Also, he noted that the class sizes in the

266
Donald James Schielke, “The Integrated Occupational Program: Effective Intervention for At-Risk
Students?” (PhD dissertation, Arizona State University 1991).
267
Ibid., 167.
 286

program, the marks the students were able to achieve in courses more suited to their

abilities, the level of teacher commitment to the students, and program autonomy

were all area in which the school excelled in relation to the stated goals of IOP. Even

though a significant number of students who’d stayed in school past grade nine were

struggling in high school, looking at the data in a different way, if the outcomes of the

students who’d stayed in school were combined with those who’d left school but had

maintained full-time employment, sixty percent of the students who left IOP at the end

of grade nine were either passing high school or successfully employed. Going with the

assumption that the at-risk, slow learning students placed in IOP at the school were

potential dropouts, and that students who drop out of school often face unemployment

and trouble with the law, the author concluded that the majority of students who

graduate from the school’s program were “definitely better off than the average high

school or grade school dropout.” 268 I wondered what an average high school dropout

was. Before I closed the window on the computer, I scrolled through a few parent and

student comments about the program. One parent wrote that his son “learned a lot

more this year than any other [and] is much happier in IOP.” A student wrote, “In IOP

I got calmed down and I get a lot more work done.” One parent, however, wrote that

the program had a “negative” effect on his child because of its reputation among other

students as a program for “Idiots on Patrol.” Another parent went further than this

actually calling the “rough kids” in the program as “Idiots on Patrol” in her survey

response.269 Williamson had also sent a number of links to various articles about IOP.

These included a collection of uplifting stories about how IOP at various schools had

turned around the school careers of individual students, as well as stories about

promising educational practices going on in various programs. There was an article

268
Ibid., 168.
269
Ibid., 84. I heard this pejorative label when my school had IOP as well.
 287

about a girl who’d attended a vocational high school in Calgary who entered grade ten

barely able to read or write who graduated from grade twelve with huge gains in her

literacy, an IOP Certificate, only a couple of courses left to upgrade to a high school

diploma, and plans to study massage therapy at the college level and start her own

business.270

Then I saw an article that came out right when IOP was being rolled out at a

Calgary high school. Though they said they appreciated the alternative programming,

parents and students were complaining about the IOP Certificate of Achievement as a

credential that wouldn’t take the students anywhere. A parent said it suggested the

government regarded IOP students as “second-class citizens”. 271 I was familiar with

this complaint by now. What did “pull me up short”,272 though, were the comments

that Jim Dinning, the then Minister of Education, made about the differences between

the IOP certificate of achievement and the high school diploma. Seeming to confirm

this parent’s impression, he agreed, “they are not equal diplomas,”273 and went on to

imply the certificate was symbolic of an inferior and perhaps even still incomplete high

school career on the part of the student:

It is like a foot race [in which] everyone works like Hell to get to the finish

line but not everyone does. We as a society have standards of achievement,

standards of results. And in a society which admires competition, not

everyone gets the same size trophy.274

270
Mikey Dumont, “Student conquers illiteracy with tenacity: Her calling card is `stick-to-it-ness,' says
teacher,” Calgary Herald, June 11, 2000, A7.
271
Elsie Ross, “Parents Students Rap Vocational Plan,” The Calgary Herald, February 20, 1989, B3.
272
See Hans-Georg Gadamer, Truth and Method: Second Revised Edition, trans by Joel Weinsheimer and
Donald G. Marshall (New York: Continuum, 1989), 268. Gadamer used this phrase to describe the
initially alienating hermeneutic experience of encountering a text that thwart’s ones expectations.
273
In Ross, A7.
274
In Ibid.
 288

“Wow, what an asshole,” I thought, at least that was how he revealed

himself to me in those statements. Summit’s comments to the effect of “if you

treat them like dummies” echoed through my head.

A message warned me that I had only ten more minutes of browsing time.

I could have paid for more but there were other corners I needed to peek in. I

opened the last few links Williamson had sent. The first article was from 1992

and described the closure of all the junior high Integrated Occupational

Programs in Calgary’s vocational high schools. 275 The chief superintendent at the

time said that the current philosophy of Alberta Education was to “integrate all

students into regular classrooms wherever possible be they mentally

handicapped, integrated occupational students, or whatever,” and that “Alberta

Education [was] revamping its technological program to concentrate less on

specific job skills and more on general preparation for the world of work.”276 As a

detective I had issues with both of these statements. From what special

education history I’d learned, I knew at the time the superintendent made these

statements his school district had many segregated programs for students with

disabilities beyond IOP that were under no threat of closure due to changes in

inclusive education thought and policy. The other issue I had was that I knew

from reading the IOP manual and from talking to Summit that generic work skills

were always supposed to be the emphasis. I read that another trustee at the

meeting suggested instead of pursuing vocational education using the school’s

shop facilities, that IOP students should be placed with employers in the

community to learn these skills instead. I remembered what Williamson had told

me about the ups and downs of work experience education. I wondered if the

275
Susan Ruttan, “Axe Posed Over Vocational Schools,” The Calgary Herald, October 2, 1992, B1.
276
Ibid.
 289

reasons for closure really had more to do with economics than student learning

and remembered the statements made in the 1920s critique of a vocational

education program that it simply wasn’t worthwhile to invest so many resources

in such a small number of struggling students.

I opened a link to a similar but fairly recent article, one that came out

twenty-eight years after the one I’d just read. This one was about the outright

closure of the Calgary school district’s vocational schools which I’d assumed,

despite losing their junior high students, had remained open to high school IOP,

and later K & E, students in the interim. 277 Enrolment was dropping in the

schools and both were well under capacity. I could see, economically, the

operating costs being a problem for the school district in this context. A

superintendent stated that it cost twice as much to educate students in these

high schools as it did in other high schools in the city. He also said that there

was a “movement” to offer career skills training in all high schools, not just in

congregated settings.278 I found “movement” a vague term. Certainly there had,

historically, been schools that specialized in vocational programming, but it had

also seemed to me that offering career skills had been a part of the mandate of

every public education school for quite a while. 279 If all schools were always

supposed to be doing this, why was this supposed movement so recent? The

article also quoted the school council chairwoman with an opposing view on the

closure, “with seventy-eight percent of its students requiring special education

modifications, [this school’s] students are "complex learners" who may struggle in

277
Sarah McGinnis, “Trade school may be shut,” The Calgary Herald, February 17, 2010, C.5.
278
Ibid.
279
Mathew, “Industrial Education in Alberta.”
 290

a traditional school.”280 She also said “It's about students with high needs that

are at risk and finding a place where they feel safe. That's important. It's not just

about where they can get their courses.”281 Colleen Birdseye had mentioned that

her students had protested their school’s closure and, sure enough this article

mentioned that students from these schools had gathered outside the school

district’s head office to protest.

A student protester was quoted describing the flexible and patient

approach of a school scheduled for closure, an approach the article implied,

students were unlikely to encounter at other high schools. “This school gives you

chances, they don't give up on you."282 Another student predicted, "If they close

this school, there's so many kids who are going to drop out of school.” 283

Williamson had also sent me a link to an editorial about these school closures in

which the author had opined that, in comparison to academic programming and

athletics, vocational education students tend to get the “short end of the stick”

when it comes to school funding priorities.284 The author had also suggested the

impact of these school closures on students needed to be closely studied,

especially given the provincial high school dropout rate.285

I wondered if the student’s prediction was right, if these school closures

resulted in more slow learners leaving school early. I did remember something

Colleen Birdseye had said about how she thought some of her K & E students did

after being moved to new schools following the closures. She said she didn’t

280
McGinnis, “Trade school may be shut,” C5.
281
Ibid.
282
Ibid.
283
Ibid.
284
E.P. Sears, “Van Horne Kids at Risk to Fall Through the Cracks,” Calgary Herald, March 15, 2010,
A11.
285
Ibid.
 291

think they coped well with what they saw as stricter attendance and behaviour

policies at their new schools and felt lost and anonymous.

The computer warned me it was logging me off in one minute, but I’d

opened most of Williamson’s links and felt that I’d accomplished what I needed

to. I felt closer to slow learners than I had at any prior time in this investigation.

I’d seen slow learners (or quasi slow learners) at two high schools and read about

them at other schools. I’d read about the programs that made them, by the

claims of their teachers and parents, but also in their own words, feel ‘at home’. I

still didn’t know whether slow learners were born or produced by schools, or even

if much of the categorical information about them was that accurate, I’d just

have to tell Williamson I’d been unable to ascertain these things. After

researching these programs, the slow learners in IOP / K & E were seeming to

me to be a real category of students, at least in the sense that Summit had

explained them, and a category for whom services seemed to be under continual

threat. I couldn’t hope that this investigation would save all of them, but I could

tell Williamson what I’d learned about the nature of the danger they were in.

Williamson, I thought, should keep fighting for the K & E classes that despite

their problems were the best thing currently going for slow learners. I just needed

to shore up a few more details on what K & E looked like right then, and figure

out how things might look for this educational category in the future. I could do

this by talking to the curriculum leaders I planned to see next. Then I could

prepare my final report for Williamson. Another interview and then – case closed.

I logged off of the computer and made my way to the Buick. On the short

walk my mind began to wander in odd directions. I felt a nagging doubt if it was

as easy as this after all. Maybe IOP and K & E were like the medications they
 292

were always selling on TV., said to dramatically relieve some troubling symptoms

but, then, there it comes – a list of potential side effects, long as a mile of ticker

tape, scrolls across the screen.

Then a presence I’d not sensed was suddenly upon me, crashing into me,

knocking me to the ground and falling with me. I wished I’d been more alert as I

exited the cafe. I was overwhelmed with the familiar sour stench of my attacker

from the library, and just as I was about to lash out and mount some sort of

defence, a large hand holding a rag went up to my face and I tasted the sick

sweetness of chloroform. As I lurched woozily for my bearings the words ‘case

closed’ repeated in my head, and then became ‘caste closed’ and then ‘category

closed’ as I replayed Veronika Sternwood‘s passionate and warped defense of

educational sorting, and wondered if it had had a delayed effect on me. I realized

there was more to this case than the simple whodunit of program closures, and

I’d nearly betrayed the slow learners by forgetting what I’d learned at the

museum of classification, from Smart Ass Cripple, and from a learning disabled-

labelled student I’d spoken to recently. Then the phrase became ‘casket closed’ as

I wondered if I’d come to this knowledge too late. Shadows flitted across my

world, and then the blackness was total.

 293

XXVI

Regaining consciousness, I slowly took in my surroundings. I had been

seated, with my hands bound in front of me, on a leather couch in somebody’s

office. The mounted head of a white-tailed buck on the wall stared incuriously at

me from above. Along the side wall stood a tableau of a stuffed grizzly menacing a

stuffed muskrat which gazed glassily up at the predator. My eyes fixed on a large

man sitting at a desk. His square head was just a little smaller than the grizzly’s,

his white crew cut hair stood up like hundreds of tiny daggers. He had a

wrestler’s neck and the rolled-up sleeves of his sweater revealed forearms so

thick it looked like he’d had additional hunks of meat implanted under the skin.

One large hand held a highball glass two fingers full of something that would

have normally looked appealing to me. The other hand held a book entitled Not

Everyone Gets a Trophy.286 His piercing grey eyes scanned the pages. He made a

face like he had just smelled sour gas, looked at me, and when he saw that I was

awake tossed the book into a trash can beside his desk. It settled with a tinny

thud.

“Nice title, stupid book. Not what I thought it was going to be about at all.”

He had a flat tone of voice save for bit of a growl at the end of the sentence. The

hand that held the book reached into his desk and produced a bottle, which he

waved at me questioningly. I shook my head woozily. I try not to drink with

villains on principal, though I sometimes do in practice. This time, with the sick

tickling the back of my throat it was easy to hold firm. He shrugged and put the

bottle back in his desk.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

286
Bruce Tulgan, Not Everyone Gets A Trophy: How to Manage Generation Y (San Francisco: Jossey-
Bass, 2009).
 294

“I’m Maddox Paine, the Chairman of SPEHC,” he said and then slowly

walked me through the acronym. “Special Private Executive for Healthy

Competition. The ‘H’ is silent.”

“Why?” I asked. Even in my dazed state that sounded ridiculous.

“Sounds better, I guess. Besides, it’s sort of assumed. Competition is

always healthy,” he replied.

“Who do you work for?”

“We work for ourselves of course, but can be found in all institutions.

Wherever competition is threatened we assist.”

“To make it fair?”

“To make it healthy. Healthy isn’t always fair,” he said gesturing to the

tableau of animals.

“Does Veronika Sternwood work with you?” I asked.

He considered his response for a minute and replied, “Not as such but I

have a lot of respect for the work her agency does. Our agendas often overlap.

Categories are good for healthy competition.”

“What do you want with me?” I asked.

He looked fondly at me for a minute, which was frightening, and then

spoke. “You’ve been sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong ever since you

arrived here. We’ve tried to remove you from this situation several times, but

you’re tenacious, and lucky. You appear to be a survivor, Mr. Hunter.”

I wanted to give credit where it was due and own up the fact that on this

particular peculiar case, I had often been helped during the severest dangers. I

thought, however, that might lower me in his estimation so I stayed quiet.

 295

Paine continued. “I admire you as a competitor, Mr. Hunter, but enough is

enough. The game is up, and you’ve lost. The education system, like every

system, needs winners and losers. Slow learners function, necessarily, as the

losers of educational categorization. We need you to stop interfering with the

natural order of things. You’ve investigated your last case.”

I didn’t like the sound of that for a variety of reasons. “I’m not interfering.

I’m just looking for slow learners.” I protested.

“Please Mr. Hunter,” he chuckled. “Have you ever taken a case in which

your original purpose wasn’t overtaken by your quaint notions of justice?” He

poured some liquor into his sneer to reward himself for that question.

He had me there, if he wanted to see it that way, so instead of responding,

I took the offensive. Like Veronika Sternwood, this was a talkative villain, and I

was hoping to use that to my advantage. “What do you mean, slow learners

function as the ‘losers’?”

“There’s the battle of the labels, for example. Quite the cockfight,” he

replied.

“The impairment pecking order?” I echoed, recalling the phrase. I looked

around the room out of the corner of my eye and saw we were the same distance

to the door so there was no use making a quick break for it. I assumed even if I

made it, he had a monster on the other side waiting for me.

“Exactly,” he confirmed, staring hard at me to redirect my gaze to him. “As

soon as there was any distinction between the labels, the slow learners had

already lost out to learning disabled students. In the battle for academic

accommodations slow learners lose out. Learning disabled students are thought

to have at least average intelligence, often above average. Some learning disabled
 296

students are even gifted.287 Slow learners by definition are not average. Learning

disabled is wiping out slow learner in the prestige game and the accommodation

game – look at how often the differences between the two labels are pointed out –

always at the expense of slow learners.”

I thought of the in-service Williamson and I had attended. I felt sick and

not just from the chloroform hangover.

“But why does one label have to be better, why does there have to be a

battle for accommodations?” I asked.

“Resources are limited. Categories have to vie for the title of most

deserving. And when it comes to reasoning, slow learners are less capable, not

differently capable like the learning disabled, so accommodations would give

them an unfair advantage. And giving them more resources to support their

learning would be a waste. Like buying a five gallon pail you could only ever fill to

three gallons.” This was the most inclusive villain I’d ever met in his acceptance

of learning disabilities and the need for academic accommodation, but that didn’t

make the social Darwinist landscape he was including them in sound any less

depraved to me. Still, I’d read similar statements about slow learners. Before I

could comment on his statements he introduced another example.

“In the battle for completion credentials, the slow learners in K & E don’t

even make the final cut. They don’t write diploma exams so they don’t get high

school diplomas. They’re first out in the round robin. They are eliminated, so

they get the lesser certificate, and they’re lucky to get that.”

That sounded a lot like the “foot-race” quote from former Education

Minister Jim Dinning, I thought. I needed to offer up something in rebuttal. “I

287
Alberta Education, The Journey: A Handbook for Parents of Children Who Are Gifted and Talented
(Edmonton: Crown in Right of Alberta, 2004), 35.
 297

thought diploma exams were about maintaining teaching standards 288 not

fostering competition,” I said. By now I knew better than this, but thought I could

draw out more conversation by taking this position. Whatever he was planning to

do to me, he couldn’t do it when we were still talking.

“That might be part of it, Mr. Hunter,” he responded. “Certainly the results

can be an excellent stick to flog teachers with, to ensure they are doing their best

to keep the system competitive worldwide.289 But you are naïve to think that’s all

of it. Look at how the results are announced, doesn’t it all remind you of other

cultic competitions like the Academy Awards, March Madness, quarterly market

reports, heavyweight title fights, the Stanley Cup Playoffs, the Superbowl, or the

Olympics? Look at how schools are ranked by the Fraser Institute and in the

media based on these results.290 This series of exams is an annual competition,

the announcing of the results an annual spectacle!” 291

“Those other things you mention are explicitly competitions. Aren’t the

exams simply supposed to encourage all students and schools to achieve better?”

I asked, repeating my query in other words.

“This may be the stated purpose, Mr. Hunter, but think about how

students classified as below average, average, and above often internalize and

continue to reproduce these results. 292 The competition teaches the students

288
Stewart, “The Perils of Testing,” 177.
289
See Tracy Melnyk, “The English 30-1 Diploma Exam: Assessment practices and pedagogy,” (master’s
thesis, University of Alberta, 2012), 1. In 2010 then Education Minister Dave Hancock issued a press
release indicating the Ministry of Education was concerned and would be investigating a drop in student
achievement in the written portion of the English 30-1 diploma exams.
290
Alberta Teachers’ Association, “McQueen wonders.”
291
Cameron Graham and Dean Neu, “Standardized Testing and the Construction of Governable Persons,”
Journal of Curriculum Studies, 36 no. 3, (2009): 27. doi:10.1080/0022027032000167080.
292
Ibid., 9.
 298

where they belong. In the case of your K & E students who don’t even write the

exam, they are below the below-average grade,” he sneered.

“But K & E isn’t supposed to be about ‘sorting’, it’s supposed to be about

providing a more practical educational alternative for students who struggle. It’s

about finding career paths for students who learn better when working with their

hands.” I knew I was just parroting the program descriptors I’d read on this, but

wanted to hear what Paine had to say about it.

He smiled his ugly smile and replied, “Your slow learners are losing the

battle for careers too. There isn’t a single trades program for which the K & E

certificate or any of the -4 classes are mentioned as pre-requisites.293 Someone

from the building council the other day was telling me he thought with trades

becoming so technical ‘if students can't make the cut to go to university or

community college, maybe we're a little doubtful that we want them either.’294

There’s even a credential called ‘Tech Prep’ that students can be granted on their

high schools diplomas that certifies that they have extensive training in a career

area. Students who only have done academic coursework at the K & E level are

not eligible for the Tech Prep Credential. It was deliberately planned to leave

them out.”295

There was little I could say in response to that, it was consistent with what

many of my other sources had indicated. It seemed when K & E programming

was effective it boosted student’s confidence, which was promising for future

employment. And if a K & E student was fortunate enough to obtain meaningful

293
Alberta Apprenticeship and Industry Training, “Updated Entrance Requirements,” Tradesecrets,
Accessed October 31, 2014. http://tradesecrets.alberta.ca/SOURCES/PDFS/Entrance_Requirements.pdf.
294
Alison Taylor and Wolfgang Lehmann, ''Reinventing'' Vocational Education Policy: Pitfalls and
Possibilities,” Alberta Journal of Educational Research 48, no. 2 (2002): 151.
295
Ibid.
 299

work experience placements, or connect well to one of the careers courses on-

campus, that seemed promising too. But when it came to the programs Paine

had mentioned, the system was too rigid to make a place for them. I remembered

Williamson’s story of the apprentice registering for his technical training, how his

way was almost barred because his transcript was tainted with K & E credits.

Things were stacked against slow learners in this way. It was sick that Paine

found this a good thing, but there wasn’t much for me to say. Fortunately Paine

didn’t require my input just then. He was on a roll.

“As I mentioned, with limited resources your slow learners are losing

the battle for funding too. Various programs and populations of students

compete at every level to be funding priorities. How do you think K & E does in

this battle?”

“Tell me,” I said, though in truth I already had a sense.

“K & E barely survived the transition from IOP. In the middle of the

program reforms, the Department of Education sent a letter to principals saying

it was scrapping the curriculum writing project for the new K & E courses.”296

I had a rebuttal for this. “But they must have changed their minds

because they did eventually follow through and release the new series of classes,

I’ve seen them. Besides, K & E students are still funded for more per credit than

regular education students.”

“So what?” he sneered again. “Aside from that top-up on credit funding,

which doesn’t amount to much with so few students taking K & E, it’s barely

funded at all. Other than a brief honeymoon period when IOP first came out, it

296
Jacqueline Skytt, “Government leaves IOP high and dry,” ATA News 36 no.17 (April 9, 2002): para.6,
http://www.teachers.ab.ca/Publications/ATA%20News/Volume%2036/Number%2017/
In%20the%20News/Pages/Government%20leaves%20IOP%20high%20and%20dry.aspx.
 300

never has been.297 I’m sure you saw the recent history on K & E schools being

closed, you saw the statistics on how few students enroll in K & E. The program

is losing on every level. Even when there is a little money available for districts to

develop resources or offer teacher in-servicing for K & E, it often isn’t spent.298

Slow learners are not a priority.”

“If you are working to close down K & E,” I said switching topics, “I’m not a

strong threat to you. I’m still unsure what should happen to it myself.”

“Hunter!” he barked, “you haven’t been listening. I don’t want to close

down K & E, I want to keep it exactly like it is. Somebody has to lose at this

game. For the concept of priority to have any meaning you have to have low

priorities. In a bureaucratic system one has to choose between requests to

approve and requests to, regrettably,” he said that last word sarcastically,

“decline. That’s how you show restraint. The profile of an educational category

depends as much on who you exclude from it as it does on who you let in. The

dropout rate is troubling and regrettable,” more sarcasm on those last two words,

“but it also shows the system is tough enough, that we’re not letting everyone

through. At every level someone has to lose.”

“It’s public education,” I objected. “Every student is supposed to be a

priority.”

297
Taylor and Lehmann, “Reinventing Vocational Education,” 146.
298
E.g. Central Alberta Regional Consortium, Calgary Regional Consortium Annual Report, (2009?),
http://www.carcpd.ab.ca/about/reports/archiveDocs/CARC%2008.09%20Annual%20
Report%20APPROVED.pdf. In 2008 / 2009 a consortium of central Alberta school districts, supported
with funding from Alberta Education and the Alberta Teacher’s Association, set aside $10,000 for
professional development and in-servicing of K & E teachers. None of it was spent. Conversely, $15,000
was set aside for professional development for special education teachers with expenditures of $39,577
significantly exceeding this allocation.
 301

“Every student gets a shot,” he replied. “We set up contests of merit and

sort out the winners and losers. This is all sanctified in the Department’s latest

statement on the direction it is taking education in. Inspiring Education says that

all of tomorrow’s students need to be entrepreneurial and competitive.299 What do

you suppose that means?”

This was the first I was hearing of this initiative and I thought I’d have to

investigate it further if I was able to escape, but there was no way I was going to

admit that to Paine. I shifted the topic again instead. “But privilege interferes

with the competition; some slow learners lack the social capital to thrive the way

the system is set up. So does discrimination about learning styles. Some of them

learn in ways that are undervalued, I objected.”

“Some of my colleagues are reluctant to admit it, but the truth is that

privilege is part of merit, competitively speaking. So is having at least normal

ability for the most part. So is learning in ways that are the most valued,” he said

simply.

“But diversity is healthy,” I protested. “How do you get it under the

conditions you’re talking about?”

“If a difference is good enough it will find its niche, maybe even become

the new normal,” he insisted.

“That’s still not diversity!” I protested.

“It’s what works – competition – it sorts and purifies.” He was raising his

voice as he shortened his sentences.

“You’re demented,” I blurted. I’d lost patience too, despite myself. “Why

would anyone hire you?” I had to ask.

299
Alberta Education, Inspiring Education: A Dialogue With Albertans (Edmonton: Alberta Education,
2009), 6.
 302

“I didn’t say we worked for institutions. We work in them and on them,”

Paine replied with a sigh. Then he glanced down at his meaty wrist and consulted

a large, Swiss Army-looking timepiece that had so many dials on it I had no idea

how he could make out the actual time of day. He downed the rest of his drink.

Probably a bad sign. I have no more time for you, Hunter,” he announced. “I

thought you were a worthy competitor, deserving of some hospitality even in

defeat. But you just don’t get it.” With that he pressed a button on his desk and a

huge trench-coated figure walked into his office. It was my assailant from the

library. The smell left no doubt.

“This is Xeno, I believe you’ve met,” he said. “He’s something of an

anomaly. He has a rare disorder that badly inhibits the sloughing off of skin.300

He’s only a medium-sized man under there, but as you’ve noted carrying around

all that extra dermis has given him awesome strength. He used to work as an

entertainer at carnivals performing mighty feats and extreme piercings on

himself, but he’s something of an introvert and never much liked it. When I met

him in Shanghai, I told him if he came and worked for us I’d have our lab try to

develop an antagonistic bacteria that might outcompete his disorder.”

Xeno did indeed seem introverted. He’d said nothing when Paine was

introducing him. Verbose as he was, Paine probably liked a quiet assistant. Xeno

had other qualifications too. I could verify the claims to his strength and his

loose, fleshy, shapeless face would make any witness that reported his

appearance sound crazy. And I doubted his outer layer of flesh would yield much

for fingerprints.

300
This ridiculous combination of symptoms and resultant super powers are not meant to resemble any
known disorder. It is meant to address the sorts of implausible and monstrous conditions that authors
often inflict on villainous henchmen in pulp fiction and comic books.
 303

At Paine’s bidding, Xeno yanked me up from the sofa, leaving my arms

tied. Paine got up and left his office and Xeno shoved me ahead, following Paine.

We were on the top floor of a building that, aside from Paine’s aggressively

developed office, was still under construction. It looked like it had been in this

state for some time. It smelled of drywall dust and was illuminated by temporary

floodlights but no one was working. Paine led us down the stairs and Xeno

shoved me along with just enough force to remind me who was boss and just

enough care that I didn’t tumble away from him.

Noticing that Paine was far enough ahead to be out of earshot of

whispering and desperate to gain any possible advantage, I harnessed what I had

learned from my travels in the museum and from Smart Ass Cripple and began

to tell Xeno how badly I thought he was being exploited in his thankless and

stereotypical role as a disfigured henchman. It was a long staircase, and while

my legs did not appreciate this, it allowed me the opportunity to harangue Xeno

at length with this whispered opinion. All the while, Paine did a determined and

oblivious march down the stairs ahead of us. All I was hoping for was a little

distraction, enough to surprise and briefly overtake my captors, an effort I

suspected would be in vain but that my code told me I had to try. Xeno had a

surprise of his own, though. I wasn’t even sure he’d been listening, but he

suddenly stopped in the middle of the staircase; the way he was looking at me, I

was sure he was going to throw me down the rest of the way, but he simply said,

“I’m not comfortable with my role in the story.” Then, without another word, he

walked down ahead of us and out of sight. He was apparently only literally thick-

skinned, I reflected, or maybe he’d been having similar thoughts all along and my

words were the tipping point. Paine and I watched his departure in disbelief. His
 304

loud, heavy steps continued; I heard a door slam shut and I knew he was gone. It

would have been better for me if, instead of leaving the scene altogether, the

disfigured henchman had a dramatic change of heart and used some of his

strength and indignation to save the hero, but I supposed he might not be

comfortable with that role in the story either. It looked like it was up to me. I

recovered from my surprise more quickly than Paine and threw myself, like a

bowling ball at the back of his legs. He fell back, cracking his huge head on one

of the stairs and I fell forward, wrenching my shoulder as I rolled. Paine lay in a

stunned lump, moaning loudly and cursing, but I had the good fortune of being

able to get to my feet. I grabbed the railing on the stairs for balance and took a

risk with my injured leg by kicking his cruel face, following through like it was a

football at kickoff time, all teed up just for me. A jolt of pain shot through my leg,

but it felt good anyways. Paine stopped moaning. He just lay there rasping. I

stepped carefully over him, and despite the old wound on my leg and the new one

on my shoulder from the tackle I had thrown, I ran down the rest of the stairs. I

had to put some serious distance between me and Paine. I knew I’d still be no

match for him when he recuperated enough to pursue me.

I made it out of the building and tried to figure out where I was. I saw from

the warehouses and a junkyard to the West of the building that I was in some

sort of industrial district. It must have been on the outskirts of the city, because

to the East, a two-lane, poorly paved road was all that stood between me and a

dense forest. I ran across the road and into the forest, following a vaguely

trafficked trail. Risking the loss of a second to look back, I saw I wasn’t leaving

much for tracks on the frozen ground so felt it safe to stay on the path. I

continued running as well as I could with my injuries, stumbling painfully from

 305

time to time on stones and tree roots and slipping on ice and loose snow. When I

was too exhausted to run, I fell to walking, and then I neared a point at which

even walking was difficult. Despite the recent improvement in temperature, there

was still enough winter cold to get to me. I saw a cleared section of the forest that

revealed a little hill upon which, I was surprised to see, sat a cabin, or more of a

hut really. There were footprints in the snow and frozen mud leading up to it. I

didn’t know what I would find in the cabin, but the only two options out in the

forest seemed to be exposure or apprehension, so I followed the footprints. In a

small cleared yard, I saw an axe stuck in a stump. I pulled the axe out and began

to use its blade, awkwardly, to unbind my hands.

It wasn’t the sharpest of tools, and breaking through the rope took some

effort. When I was finally done I caught my breath and looked up to see two old

men staring at me from the small porch of the cabin. They were holding what

appeared to be antique Mauser rifles.

 306

XXVII

The first man was dressed in rustic clothes. He was wearing short, dark pants

of a coarse fibre, work boots, and long grey breeches. A thick brown shirt peeked out

of a jacket with broad lapels and a militaristic collar. His piercing eyes glared at me in

what I took as a challenge; his lips were turned upwards on an otherwise square

moustache in what appeared to me as a humorless sort of smugness. His companion

was more formally dressed in slacks, a corduroy blazer, and a red woolen tie. There

was something proprietary about the first man – I took him to be the cabin owner.

With the officious expression he wore he looked particularly disturbing standing at the

ready, locked, loaded and aiming straight at my heart. Despite being armed as well,

his companion smiled slightly as if intrigued by the event of my arrival at the cabin.

Desperately, knowing that, despite their reception of me, I was exhausted and

needed rest and shelter if I was to survive, I slowly walked towards them holding my

hands up in surrender. Nearing the porch where they stood, I asked if I could come in

to warm up. I claimed I was out hiking and had become lost in the woods. I saw, as

they exchanged glances with each other that they had some doubts about my story. I

supposed very little in my comportment suggested I had been out for a nature walk.

The man I took to be the cabin owner spoke to the other in German. I caught the word

‘polizisten’, and saw his guest nod and move towards the cabin. All in all I had not

been well-treated by the authorities of this city and had no desire to sample their

hospitality again, moreover the longer I waited outside the greater the risk that Paine

would hunt me down. Deciding to come clean, I called out to wait and said I was a

private investigator on a case. Maintaining eye contact with the cabin owner, I asked if

I could enter my pocket and get out my license to prove myself. He gave a slight nod

and I very slowly and carefully got out my wallet and produced my I.D., feeling lucky
 307

Paine hadn’t taken my wallet. I set it on the first stair of the porch. The companion

took a few steps and bent to get it as the cabin owner continued to regard me warily

from behind his rifle. They took turns scrutinizing my I.D. I begged permission to

explain why I was truly at the cabin and received another microscopic nod from the

cabin owner. I began to explain myself. The two listened intently but with different

styles. The cabin owner was indignant. He made small adjustments to his rifle to

continue bearing the weight of pointing it at me. He was ready at any minute to carry

through on his intention to call the police and detain me in the yard until they came

by, or to do worse. His guest grew increasingly curious, eventually relaxing and letting

his rifle hang by his side. I tried my best to be calm and expedient in the telling.

Having explained how I became involved in the case and some of the dangers I’d

encountered so far, I brought the story to my apprehension by Paine, my escape, and

the present danger I was facing, given that it was almost inevitable that he would

come looking for me. Something shifted slightly in the cabin owner’s attitude at the

mention of the social Darwinist in the industrial district, not necessarily a greater

empathy for me but his face very briefly registered looks of disgust and then regret

before he smoothed it into indignance again. After I had explained this part of my

story, he finally lowered his rifle, spoke briefly to his companion who shrugged in

apparent agreement and smiled. The cabin owner gestured toward the open door of his

shelter.

Thanking my reluctant host profusely, I approached the cabin, I knocked some

mud from my pants, removed my shoes and asked, deferentially, where I could set

them so that they couldn’t be seen from the porch. The cabin owner opened the door

and gestured to a mat inside the cabin. I stepped into the cabin and set them on the

mat alongside another pair of muddy boots that sat there drying, their heavy wetness,
 308

soiled leather, and worn innards speaking of their belonging not so much to the world

of the cabin, but to the wintry forest that had marked them.301 The cabin owner and

the companion followed me in and shut the door. It was sparsely but functionally

appointed inside. A kitchen and sitting room occupied most of the floor space to my

left, and open doors to my right revealed two small bedrooms and a small study. A few

windows provided the only relief from the wood paneling all around. A wood-burning

stove in the kitchen heated the cabin itself and also the water for the coffee the two

men had been drinking before my visit interrupted them. The steam from the tin

percolator and two plain mugs on the thick, plank-style table billowed out into the

cabin air. The warmth of the cabin nibbled at my cold fingers and toes. The

companion asked the cabin owner something in German, received what sounded like

an affirmative response, and invited me to sit at the table. I thanked them both and

sat down, grateful to rest my weary limbs but also careful not to slouch in excessive

familiarity. The companion went into another room, came back without his rifle and

sat down to the right of me at the table. The cabin owner sat across from me with the

Mauser resting on his lap. The companion seemed to ask for and receive further

permission from the cabin owner, and then found another mug in the cupboard and

offered me some coffee. I accepted, bowing and thanking both of them. It was good,

lightly bitter, refreshing and warming. I knew I had been cold, but hadn’t realized how

thirsty I was.

It wasn’t long after we were seated that I heard the whine of an All-Terrain

Vehicle, followed by a putt-putt sound as it came to rest. I heard heavy steps and then

a loud knock on the door. I looked imploringly at the host; he briefly considered things

and then, with a look of annoyance, gestured towards the study. I crept into the room

See Martin Heidegger “On the Origin of the Work of Art” in Basic Writings, 1st Harper Perennial
301

Modern Thought Edition, ed. David Farrell Krell (New York: HarperCollins, 2008), 159.
 309

and quietly shut the door behind me. From the study I heard another door squeak

slightly open, probably only a crack, and then Paine’s voice. He was growling and

slurring a little, maybe concussed from the kick I had delivered to his head. He

described a man who looked like me and demanded of the cabin owner that he tell him

if he had seen this man. He claimed this man had recently broken into his office and

then fled the scene. My host, with equal brusqueness, told him “no” and slammed the

door in his face. Paine pounded on the door again. This time I heard some footsteps in

the cabin, and then a rummaging sound before the door squeaked again. There was a

rough exchange of words. Paine said they had to have seen me. The two men insisted

no. Paine shouted they were liars. More shuffling, Paine trying to shove his way into

the cabin, my hosts resisting on the other side of the door, I guessed. Worried, I

opened the study door very slightly and risked a peek. As Paine kept shoving, my

hosts suddenly quit resisting and the door swung open all the way. They each took a

quick step back as Paine stumbled forwards, barely keeping his feet under him. He

held a large revolver, but it was futile; my hosts had the drop on him and both were

aiming rifles at a distance of six inches from his head. The cabin owner barked out

orders. After a minute, Paine cursed and set his piece on the cabin floor and backed

away with his hands up. I heard him start up his ATV and drive off.

I returned to the main room. The companion walked into another room with

Paine’s revolver, a .44 Magnum, and the rifle he himself had been using, stored them

and sat down at the table. The cabin owner was already seated at the table, absently

stroking the smooth stock of the rifle he still had out, like he was scratching his

favorite dog behind the ear. I thanked my hosts and, thinking further introductions

might be in order after the incident with Paine, somewhat awkwardly asked their

names. The cabin owner gruffly introduced himself as Martin, his guest as Hans. I was
 310

prepared to take what I was given and ask for no more, but I felt funny having only

their first names at my disposal. It seemed too familiar. Both of them spoke, drank

coffee, and even sat in the custom of a grander era, one that I thought demanded

formal address. Even so, maybe the correct ritual for being a guest in the cabin

involved first names only, who was I to say?

Hans spoke, smiling, “I must thank you Max, for the opportunity you’ve just

provided, to enact a Kantian morality experiment in real life.302 I trust you think we

chose correctly.” I wasn’t sure what he was talking about but smiled politely. I did,

after all, appreciate their choice. Martin did look like he understood, but shot a

disappointed look at Hans suggesting he was unimpressed with this attempt at levity.

Hans caught the glance and looked like a chastened child. Hans continued with me

more seriously. “I like the work you are doing on this case; I like how you are playing

with this educational concept.”

This pulled me up short a bit.303 It wasn’t what I thought I was doing. Despite

my gratitude at the rescue and the hospitality, I felt I had to correct him. “With

respect,” I began, “I don’t think I’m playing with anything. My work is more important

than that. I’m looking for slow learners. My client is very worried about them.”

“And just where do you think they will appear?” Martin demanded suddenly,

staring intently at me in a manner that rubbed me the wrong way.

“I’ve found students who would be categorized as slow learners,” I said, but

then felt compelled to add, “but I’m still trying to find where the category belongs so

that the students can be treated more justly.”

302
See Christine M. Korsgard, “The Right to Lie: Kant and Dealing with Evil,” Philosophy and Public
Affairs 15, no. 4 (1986): 325, http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:HUL.InstRepos:3200670.
303
See Gadamer, Truth and Method, 270.
 311

“Where do you think the category belongs? What is the appropriate enframing

for slow learner?” asked Martin with that same dismissive stare.

I wasn’t sure if there was any difference between his two questions, so I just

answered the first. “I’m not sure,” I admitted, thinking of Veronika Sternwood. “From

what I’ve seen, these kids wouldn’t do well if they were just thrown into the

educational system such as it is and ignored. For most of the kids I talked to, this

kind of inattention was where their school failure started. But where does the category

belong?” I repeated Martin’s question; it was a good one despite his angry

condescension. “That’s part of the problem too. From what I’ve seen, institutions seem

to take too many liberties once this kind of a concept gets locked down too tightly.”

“Locked down, locked in, and locked up in storage,” Martin scoffed cryptically.

I didn’t think there was anything in that for me so I continued. “From what I

can tell, if that happens, the concept starts to produce restrictions, stereotypes, long

quasi-scientific lists of all the things the students aren’t supposed to be able to do,

and the sense that they are lesser students. So for the slow learner concept to belong,

maybe there has to be some fluidity built into the concept,” I concluded articulately.

“Play?” Hans suggested. He’d been patiently, almost deferentially, listening to our

exchange before he heard this word calling out for recognition again. Despite my

earlier rejection of the term, it sounded like he was offering it as a possibility more

than a challenge.

“Maybe,” I replied, I still wasn’t sure about that word.

Hans waited deferentially for Martin to respond, but Martin looked like he was

still making up his mind as to whether he should deign to offer me any sincere

counsel beyond the potshots he was currently taking. Whatever it was in him that

compelled him to offer me shelter, it didn’t seem like it extended so far as taking a
 312

sincere interest in my larger mission. After a moment, Hans asked me the question,

“Have you ridden a bicycle?” I said that I had. “Concepts are like that.” He went on.

“On the front wheel, the axle, it is important not to tighten the nuts too tightly, else the

wheel cannot turn. It has to have some play! [But] not too much play, or the wheel with

fall off.” “You know,” he said, “Spielraum, leeway.” 304

That interested me. It reminded me of the way some of teachers I’d met seemed

to be able to use their technical knowledge of things like disability categorization and

learning styles without being constrained by them. I had been thinking of play in the

sense of folly, which I’d had little use for on this case, when he brought it up. I asked

him to tell me more about how he regarded play.

Martin continued to register only vague interest. Hans thought for a minute

and then replied, “The play of light, the play of the waves, the play of gears or parts of

machinery, the interplay of limbs, the play of forces, the play of gnats, even a play on

words. All of these things [play in a] to-and-fro movement that is not tied to any goal that

would bring it to an end.” As he spoke, Hans swung his hand a few times, like a

pendulum, in seeming demonstration of his claim. He then paused for a minute before

concluding, “The play is purposeful, not random, but at the same time it has no set end

point or forgone conclusion.”305

Now I thought he was taking the idea too far, at least as it applied to my case.

“With respect,” I began again, “I don’t want to be engaged in that kind of play on this

case. I want to solve this case, find a safe place for the category of slow learners and

find some justice for these students. I want to tell the truth about how slow learners

have been treated in the past and what they truly need right now. This case needs an

304
Hans-George Gadamer in David Miller, “Play” Dr. Anne Galloway (2003), para. 4,
http://www.purselipsquarejaw.org/2003/11/play.php.
305
Gadamer, Truth and Method, 104.
 313

end point; it can’t be an endless investigation that accomplishes no goals, it needs to

be settled.”

“How is your desire to close the case any different than the categorical impulse

for closure that you’ve just claimed endangers these students in institutions?” Martin

suddenly demanded haughtily.

I didn’t appreciate being lumped in with Veronika Sternwood and Maddox Paine

and tried a reasoned response to break the association, “Because the institutional

claims that they are somehow defective as students is a distortion – and one that traps

them both categorically and physically in restrictive programming.” I was not thinking

so much of the K & E classes themselves but the, seemingly willful, systemic denial of

opportunities for these students. “I need to find and tell the untainted truth about who

these students are and what they need, I need to break down the stereotypes. I need to

piece together the facts of the case and carefully present them to my client in a way

that corresponds with the reality of the situation.” Happy with my reply, I drained my

coffee cup. My host and his guest exchanged glances.

Martin now regarded me with a little smile as though he was a gator studying

an unwary tourist who’d wandered too deep into the everglades. It was unsettling.

Hans was smiling too, but sympathetically. As Martin continued to stare at me, Hans

retrieved the peculator from the table and refilled my cup.

“Max,” he said patiently, “what if, as one of your disability studies scholars has

said, the purity of a concept is its danger? 306 Does there have to be a singular,

objective, disembodied truth to be found about these students?”

306
James I. Porter in Nancy Rice, “Teacher education as a site of resistance” in Vital Questions Facing
Disability Studies in Education, Scott Danforth and Susan.L. Gabel, Eds., (New York: Peter Lang, 2006),
17.
 314

I’d liked Hans better than Martin from the first time I’d seen the two, but this

question bothered me. I’d already owned up to believing the category needed to be

thought of flexibly and generously, but I now felt as though I was being treated as

naive, or even dangerous, for still wanting to make a tangible claim about how to help

these students. In my resentment I blurted, “Look, students are in danger here. This

isn’t some intellectual exercise, like how you two must sit around this table and wax

philosophical about nothing, some sort of game in which anything goes …” I winced

inwardly as I heard myself say this. It was rude and stupid. Martin, unconsciously I

hoped, shifted his rifle in his lap. I raised my arms in apology.

Hans objected to my statement on a point of order. “There aren’t any games in

which anything goes. Any game is a shaped activity by definition.”307

“More to the point,” said Martin, seeming more engaged now, though no more

friendly, “true thinking, or the thinking truth, is preserv[ing] something in its essence

… maintain[ing] it in its element …. It is the quiet power of the possible.” 308 I didn’t

sense he’d suddenly come around to being interested in my case. It was more like,

hearing the depths of my ignorance, he suddenly felt compelled to help Hans

straighten me out on their similar notions of truth before I went back out into the

world with such a poor understanding of the concept.

I nodded, a little afraid of him still, but pleased that he had joined the

conversation. Something about him wanted to make me hear him out despite his

apparent disdain for me. I was still, however, confused as to the significance of what

he had just said. It was obviously some sort of response to the ‘anything goes’ charge

that I’d levied, but what did it mean and why did it matter?

307
Joel Weinsheimer and Donald G. Marshall, translators preface to Truth and Method, xiv.
308
Heidegger, “Letter on Humanism,” 242.
 315

“What I mean to say,” I continued along my own familiar lines of thought about

the case, “is that there are students’ lives at stake here. And the truth of their

oppression, through class hierarchies, through restrictive definitions of what counts

as intelligence, or even what counts as legitimate disabilities requiring resources and

supports has to count as more real than all the negative stereotypes and self-fulfilling

prophesies about their potential. For the sake of justice it has to be more real.”

“Obviously yes, some interpretations are unhealthy, toxic even,” Hans

acknowledged. “Perhaps as Caputo, a scholar I am enjoying recently, has noted, these

are enforced interpretations, examples of the self-serving abuse of power.309 But I’m

sorry to tell you that any truth you find about slow learners will also be an

interpretation. As our host and my teacher,” he said, gesturing to Martin, “has pointed

out, we are always already interpreting,310 so there can be no disembodied, objective

truth about slow learners. You cannot liberate these students with an appeal to ‘just

the facts’ as that American detective serial used to claim.311 As Caputo points out, the

very word ‘fact’ comes from Latin – facere – meaning ‘to make’. You’ve seen firsthand

the trouble psychology, all the sciences really, get themselves into when they forget

this, or at least when their practitioners do. It may look otherwise when a truth seems

particularly compelling, but truth does not float above context, just as a dove does not

float weightlessly in the sky.312 The dove must press on, shift with and employ the

resistance of the wind, the air, in order to achieve flight. So too does truth depend on

context.”

309
John D. Caputo, Truth: Philosophy in Transit (London: Penguin, 2013), 214.
310
Ibid., 215.
311
See Internet Movie Database (IMDb),“Trivia – Dragnet,” Internet Movie Database, accessed
November 2, 2014. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0043194/. Hans is speaking of the 1951 – 1958 television
series Dragnet, though the exact line “just the facts ma’am” was, in fact, never used on the program.
312
Caputo, Truth: Philosophy in Transit, 217.
 316

Martin nodded at his companion, this time in appreciation of this homely

metaphor before turning his gaze back on me. “Context grounds truth, it gives a

weightiness, an importance, to the objects of discussion and to ourselves. The

machinations of modernity in all their objective calculabilities have not brought truth

closer to the essence of things, they have unhinged things from significance and

reduced understanding to diffusive trivia.”313

I thought I was starting to get it but, coming from a profession that operated on

the currency of evidence, this way of thinking about truth still bothered me. I was

typically hired to find out the truth about a case, the location of lost property or

people, or, if I was desperate enough for work, the identity of some mistress or gigolo

in a home-wrecking tryst. My clients didn’t always appreciate the truth I brought

back, but they usually recognized it when they saw it. Maybe, I thought, that wasn’t

because I’d found objective truth after all, but more like what Martin meant about

being engaged in preserving and maintaining an essence. And context was crucial I

realized. Once, I’d debated the motives behind a murder-suicide – the killer being a

dangerously beautiful sort at the end of a chain of crimes – with a cop I was on more

or less friendly terms with. The dame was bad news, that much we both agreed on,

but whereas all the homicide detective could see was another evil act in the chain, I

saw in her final act, a means of sparing her already put-upon husband and benefactor

the further indignity of being implicated in her trial.314 You couldn’t even really say the

fact of the crime lay outside our interpretations; it was in both of our interpretations,

but seen from different vantage points. Still though, I was left feeling that both the

case and I needed more certainty than this way of thinking offered.

313
Mark A. Wrathall, Heidegger and Unconcealment: Truth, Language and History (New York:
Cambridge University Press, 2011), 202.
314
See Chandler, Farewell My Lovely, 292. Max’s recollection is borrowed from Chandler’s Phillip
Marlowe.
 317

“I’m still not sure I agree, but for the sake of argument, let’s say I am looking for

a better, a much better, interpretation of who slow learners are and what they need,” I

said. “But I can’t be just playing with interpretations here – I need to settle on one that

brings justice to these students that has the potential to change how school looks for

them in a real and permanent way. I’m not sure my client would accept anything less

than this. How will I know for sure?”

“There is a problem also,” Martin observed, instead of answering my question,

“with your notions of justice …. Karl Marx once said, ‘the philosopher has hitherto

interpreted the world; the point is to change it’. But in saying this he overlooked that

the fact of a world change presupposes a change in the world’s conception and that a

conception of the world can only be won by the fact that one interprets the world

sufficiently. Marx bases it on a completely certain world interpretation to demand his

change. Therefore he knows this sentence is not a sound sentence.”315 He looked very

satisfied with himself after saying this, so satisfied that he apparently deemed his rifle

a more imprecise weapon than his wit, and finally re-engaged the safety on it and set

it aside, in close reach, on the kitchen counter. He returned to the table and now

rested his arms on it, gripping his coffee mug in two hands. At first I wasn’t sure why

he looked so confident. His observation sounded like logic-chopping, a distracting

riddle in a case where, as I had pointed out, real lives were at stake. Out of

professional thoroughness, though, I parsed the statement in my head a little more

before dismissing it. Then I began to feel a sort of vertigo. I had been coming around to

understanding that most of what we knew about slow learners was a matter of

interpretation. I now saw that whatever justice looked like for them was too. Whether

315
Martin Heidegger,”Heidegger on Marx.” YouTube video 1:34, from im Denken Unterwegs, directed
by Walter Rüdel and Richard Wisser (Baden-Baden:Südwestfunk , 1975), posted by Eidos84, July 11,
2011, http://www.youtube.com/ playlist?list=PLAC163ED7E89D0F6D.
 318

or not we actually made things better for them in the end was highly interpretive, and,

in an ever-shifting educational landscape, any changes would necessarily mean re-

interpreting the whole scene all over again. Martin and Hans had spoken of essences

and the grounding of context, but I felt like I had completely lost my bearings and was

spinning out of control, passing by Martin’s smug mug on each queasy rotation.

Hans, noting my discomfort, asked me to take a deep breath and drink some

more of my coffee. I did, and felt less dizzy but no more certain. Martin, seeming to

read my mind as to the source of my distress remarked, “This circle of understanding is

not to be reduced to the level of a vicious circle …. In the circle is hidden a positive

possibility of the most primordial kind of knowing.”316 It was nice to hear Martin offer

up something more affirming, though his concern seemed more directed at clarifying

his position than at reassuring me of anything. Moreover, I was still confused. What

was “primordial knowing?”

“I don’t know about all that,” I admitted. “But,” I added looking to find a claim

to stabilize things, “since you mention Marx, I do think one strong interpretation is

that economic class plays a large part in constructing slow learners, in some of the

negative assumptions people make. I’m pretty much convinced of this, that this is

something that needs looking at.”

“Yes, you likely do need to look into that.” Martin granted. “But can you say the

essence of ‘slow learner’, the label, is a position in a class struggle?” he asked, still

somewhat indignant.

“Maybe,” I replied.

“But what and where is this ‘is’ for slow learners?” he asked.

316
Heidegger, Being and Time, 195.
 319

“What?” I blurted. But he had spoken very clearly, there was no way I’d

misheard his ridiculous question. “Slow learner is a lot of things,” I replied somewhat

hotly. “I’ve done a thorough investigation.”

“And which appearances spoke the most strongly to you?” Martin asked.

“The ones that best represent the present reality of their situation,” I replied.

“Even if something always remains undecided, surely this is how we have to judge the

strength of the interpretation.”

“How so?” Martin asked.

“The best interpretation is the one that most closely matches the situation,” I

repeated.

“Which you can only abstract, so you will compare your representation to your

abstraction to see if you’ve found the truth.317 Too early and too late.” He had worn a

stern expression as he questioned me and I felt like a schoolboy being called out by a

teacher intending to expose his ignorance.

“Maybe so,” I replied, “but it works pretty well. We flew to the moon on this sort

of correspondence.” I thought I’d made a good, if argumentative, point but he didn’t

even acknowledge it.

“If you want to bring a report back to your client that he might actually find

helpful – consider this. Imagine a lichtung – a clearing in these trees,” he said

gesturing to the forest outside the cabin window. As it happened, just as Martin was

speaking I looked out the window and I did fix on such a clearing in the forest. A snow

white rabbit flitted across it. As Paine’s recent quarry, and feeling somewhat pursued

by Martin too, I felt some solidarity with the little animal. Martin continued. “In this

clearing, a spot where licht – light – shines, something previously concealed appears

317
see Ibid., 258. Heidegger expressed what I have paraphrased here in argumentative dialogue as “With
regard to what do intellectus and res agree?”
 320

as unconcealed in the light. But even as it appears, other possibilities are concealed.

Before you can even begin to discuss whether your statement about that thing

matches up to it, that thing has already appeared, been presenced and unconcealed to

you as itself.318

I considered this for a minute, finding it perplexing. “How is that supposed to

help my investigation? How is that supposed to help my client? How is it going to bring

justice to slow learners?” I was losing my cool again; I reminded myself to calm down.

“You described how strange you find the history of all this – the exhibits in the

research institute relating to mass confinement, for example. Perhaps in some of these

artifacts lie un-concealments or disclosures that are no longer available as truthful or

even comprehensible.”

“That’s because they were evil,” I shot back, though quickly realized it was a

weak point.

Martin ignored this and advised me, “Consider, then, what is un-concealed and

concealed in current understandings of slow learners.”

“To what end?” I asked.

“So that you might move from these current apprehensions to the being of these

students,” he replied.

“I have more important things to worry about than the being of these students,”

I said. “If I can identify the prejudices they’ve had to deal with and the mistreatment

they’ve faced, and how they might be treated more fairly, their being will take care of

itself.”

He stared at me as though I’d uttered the most naive statement he’d ever heard.

In a matter-of-fact voice he said, “The growing and unacknowledged anxiety in the face

318
Ibid., 51.
 321

of thinking no longer allows insight into the oblivion of being which determines the

age.” 319 He then fell silent. He drank his coffee and stared out the window at the

forest. I did the same. I wasn’t sure how much I understood him, or how relevant his

ideas were to the case, but something about them was starting to itch at me.

“My friend, I think, is worried that in your methods you are forgetting that we

are always a part of what we seek to understand,” Hans spoke up. He’d listened

patiently to our testy exchange and was still smiling.

“Well obviously, I take my work personally, but the problems are in the

institutions in this case, not in me. I’m just the part of the case that intends to solve

it,” I replied.

“Do you feel that you’ve become an expert on slow learners and the hardships

they face?” He asked the question calmly, without challenge it seemed.

“I’ve only been on the case for four days, but I think I have learned a thing or

two,” I replied with what I hoped was appropriate modesty.

“But you feel that your investigation has led you to understand the ills in

institutional treatment of slow learners and the potentials cures for these ills?”

“To some degree, yes,” I had to admit that I was operating on this assumption.

“I commend your interest in justice for these students, but it sounds as though

from your investigative methods, you are assuming the role of the lone healer, the one

who will eventually be ready to deliver a cure to all of the hapless institutional victims.

That may not be very hermeneutic, or practical.”

I wondered what hermeneutic and practical had to do with each other? As to

Hans’ comment, I preferred to think of myself as the lone gunslinger, not the lone

319
Martin Heidegger, 1973, in Robert Harrison, “Martin Heidegger in conversation with Andrew
Mitchell,” Entitled Opinions (About Life and Literature) (2005), Audio podcast.
http://www.apple.com/itunes/store.
 322

medicine slinger, but I could see where he was going. I wasn’t sure I agreed with his

assessment of where I’d positioned myself in the investigation. I thought I’d been more

collaborative than usual this time around. “I’ve interviewed a lot of people affected by

the slow learner concept, and I’ve read a lot too. I’ve been very thorough,” I insisted.

“But were you listening for symptoms of an institutional disorder you intended

to piece together and repair, or were you truly trying to understand?” he asked.

It took me a minute to consider how different these two things really were. I

decided they were similar to a degree but the first had a cold, clinical flavor I didn’t

like. I felt I’d mostly done the latter, but at times maybe I hadn’t listened carefully, or

openly enough. “I’m just trying to bring some justice for slow learners,” I repeated, a

little evasively.

“But what if you recommend something for your client, and through his efforts

it becomes a sanctioned practice. And then, your solution turns out to be flawed in

concept or application and causes many problems of its own. Using the analogy of

illness and medicine, it too will need a cure. Have you read Ivan Illich’s Limits to

Medicine in your investigation? He calls this cycle of cure and cures for cures

iatrogenesis.”320

A cliché about good intentions sprung to my mind. I realized that the process

he described did indeed make sense to me. It reminded me of much of what I’d read

about in prior attempts to reform programming for slow learners. The range of

problems that resulted in the switch from IOP to K & E also came to mind. A question

called out to me. “I can see this is a problem, but it almost seems the inevitable way of

things. How can I avoid it?”

320
Ivan Illich, Limits to Medicine. Medical Nemesis: The Expropriation of Health (London: Marion
Boyars, 1975), 23.
 323

“There is a Rilke poem about an acrobat,” Hans said, and then he quoted a

line. “The pure too-little incomprehensively transforms itself, springs over into the empty

too-much.”321 He saw in my eyes that it hadn’t done much for me, and he went on to

explain. “The more strongly the sphere of application becomes rationalized, the more

does proper exercise of judgment along with practical experience in the proper sense

fail to take place.”322

I asked him to elaborate.

“Continuing to use medical practice as an analogy, I would note that the role of

the practitioner as technological specialist of the body has undermined the previous

sense of medicine as an interpretive art – a healing conversation between the

practitioner and patient. The hubristic notion of being the agent responsible for

healing has overshadowed the wiser, primordial sense that the doctor assists in the

healing process,” he said.

“So if there are problems with how slow learners have been treated

institutionally, this needs to be addressed as a healing conversation, not a diagnostic

and prescriptive treatment?” I suggested.

“Or indictment and manifesto,” Martin added, recalling, I think, his earlier

mention of Marx.

A thought struck me. “Might this healing conversation you are talking about as

a way of dealing with the problems with how slow learners are treated also relate to

the approaches to teaching these students? Some of the teachers I spoke with

recommended things like inquiry, discovery, and experimentation.”

321
Hans-Georg Gadamer, The Enigma of Health: The art of Healing in a Scientific Age, Trans. Jason
Gainer and Nicholas Walker (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1996), 17.
322
Ibid., 24.
 324

“Yes!” Hans exclaimed, beaming, and even Martin looked somewhat interested.

Hans continued, “Socrates said he modeled his teaching after his mother, who was a

midwife.323 He did not pass knowledge on to his students; he helped his students give

birth to thought.”

“What teaching calls for is this – to let learn.”324 Martin added.

I found myself liking the sound of this idea, but if I was going to bring it back to

Williamson, I wanted to examine it a bit, kick the tires and look under the hood. I

asked, “If all the teachers do is ‘let learn’, what does this say about the need for their

teacher to be skilled and knowledgeable?” I asked.

“It is very difficult to teach such that the impression is we properly learn

nothing from the teacher.”325 Martin asserted.

“It requires, as Aristotle said, not only technical knowledge – techne – but also

phronesis or practical wisdom,”326 Hans added.

I asked them to explain the difference between these two ideas a little more.

Hans spoke up. “Techne is without a moral or contextual dimension – it is just

skill. Phronesis is imbedded in concrete situations. It is contextual. It has moral and

political dimensions. It does not follow a predetermined, uniform course, it is

interpretive in its approach to action. It requires, always, the choice of the proper

application [of knowledge and ability] for the good.327 Practices such as teaching and

medicine are best understood as hermeneutic arts – arts of bringing forth – under this

323
Plato, Theaetetus, Trans. Benjamin Jowett (2013), 17, Kindle edition.
324
Martin Heidegger, What is Called Thinking, trans. J. Glenn Gray (New York: Harper Colophon, 1968),
15.
325
Ibid.
326
Hans-Georg Gadamer, “The Limitations of the Expert,” in Hans-Georg Gadamer on Education,
Poetry, and History, 170.
327
Ibid., 184.
 325

understanding; bringing forth learning, bringing forth healing. The way knowledge is

considered in the modern world distorts the relationship between theory and practice.

“How so?” I asked.

Martin’s hands clenched more tightly around his coffee cup. I interpreted that

this was not in vigorous objection to his companion’s ideas, but in his desire to add

his particular interpretation. “He,” Martin noted, gesturing to his companion, “will tell

you that Aristotle held there was a special place among skilled artisans for the doctor

as he [sic], did not directly construct an object, but brought forth healing. To me,

every artisan working is engaged in poesis or bringing forth. Each handicraft uniquely

bears its own history, the marks of its own construction: the materials it was crafted

from, the artisan’s labor, and the artisan’s choices. Each handicraft is, even if only

subtly, different from the others. It is revealed, as itself in itself as such an object.

Modern machine technology has a very different form of revealing. It strives for

uniformity so there can be no revealing of the particularities of anything. ‘The

revealing that rules throughout modern technology has the character of setting-upon,

in the sense of a challenging-forth.”328

I had been following along fine until he lost me with that last sentence, so I

asked him to explain ”challenging forth.”

“Things have lost their density, their existential importance. 329 Instead of

making a claim on us, they’ve become formless formations of technological

production. 330 Everywhere everything is ordered to stand by, to be immediately at

hand, indeed to stand there just so that it may be on call for a further ordering.

328
Martin Heidegger, “The Question Concerning Technology,” in Martin Heidegger Basic Writings, 14.
329
Wrathall, Heidegger and Unconcealment, 201.
330
Martin Heidegger, “What are Poets For?” in Poetry, Language, Thought, trans. A. Hofstadter (New
York: Harper Collins, 2001), 110.
 326

Whatever is ordered about in this way has its own standing. We call it the standing-

reserve.” He replied gloomily.331

The darkness with which he uttered that last thing provoked a silence during

which I considered what I had been hearing. I could follow what Hans was saying

about the importance of practical wisdom in teaching. I recognized how beyond my

investigative skills, practical wisdom guided my own practice as a detective. It was

usually this sense of where a case was going, needed to go, that was the glue that

bound the disparate pieces together. What I could not immediately recognize was the

application of Martin's rant about handcrafts versus manufactured goods to the

current mystery I was investigating. On a literal level, it sounded two parts stodgy and

one part wistful, what were we supposed to do, abandon industrial manufacturing in

order to be more authentically? I liked the Buick and, when it was running well, felt

nothing but appreciation for the good men and women on the assembly line in Detroit

who put it together. I liked that there was another one just like it, minus the personal

touches I’d installed (coffee stains, fuzzy dice and a few bullet holes) out there in case I

broke the first one. I took a drink of coffee and thought for a minute longer. Where else

might this standing-reserve critique have application? A few things came to me. Was

the wild proliferation of educational labels I had learned about such a form of

production, a ready-made set of shunts and widgets to attach to children who did not

appear as orderly in order to make their disorders uniform too? Did schooling itself

function as such a form of production – producing its own standing reserve of

workers, consumers, modern subjects, and human resources? 332 If so, was this

unhealthy for slow learners? And, then the question I had been asking all along came

331
Heidegger, “The Question Concerning Technology,” 17.
332
Wrathall, Heidegger and Unconcealment, 198.
 327

back to me – did schools produce slow learners? Was ‘slow learner’ a discarded part of

the production, a label put beyond use, or was it still standing on reserve? I’d have to

think more about that one later. I had another question, a pressing one.

“How can I find justice for slow learners within all of this?” I asked.

“Cultivate solidarities,” Hans interjected. “We focus too strongly on that which

divides us, and shift too much responsibility onto so-called experts to solve our

collective problems. Embrace activism against those things that endanger us

collectively, support reform to strengthen measures to protect the vulnerable – these

things are genuine solidarities.”333 Finding something familiar in this, I then realized

this was the guy Williamson had told me about who’d spoken of free spaces. I recalled

how Colleen Birdseye told me about the soon-to-be alumni who’d protested the closure

of the vocational schools despite not being directly affected by the plans. I thought of

the protest march against cuts to disability funding when Smart Ass Cripple had been

arrested. I also, however, thought of those on the other side. The Veronika Sternwoods

and Maddox Paines and their fanaticism and hostility, and, again of my revulsion at

what I’d seen on my tour of the sorting museum. I had a question. Was Hans’ way

tough enough to deal with them?

“What about those with whom solidarity seems impossible? It’s pretty hard to

find common ground with someone who is standing on your throat, or someone whose

ideas seem reprehensible to you.”

Hans responded. “Perhaps in that case not solidarities, then, but it is always in

your best interest to try to understand, even in such a situation. You may feel strongly

opposed to an idea, perhaps quite rightfully. This feeling, this prejudice,” I was

surprised at his use of this word, “is not just ethically warranted; it is also useful. It

333
See Gadamer, “The Limitations of the Expert,” 191 - 193.
 328

informs your understanding, it makes your understanding possible. This is your

interpretive horizon, the wide expanse of your interpretive vision as well as its limits.

In an interpretive event, whether reading, conversing, considering an idea, trying to

come to terms with a historical event, you nevertheless try to put your prejudices,

your interpretations at risk or in play, you allow for the possibility that there is

something to the sentence, the idea, the event, that you are interpreting. In doing so,

you allow for a fusion of horizons between yourself and that which you are

interpreting. You will not fully overcome your prejudices but you will have a more

expansive understanding, one you can continue to use as you interpret other

things.”334

I considered this. It made sense, but I still had a problem with it. “I can see why

I might want to engage in such a process with some person or idea or practice I might

find some common ground with, but how can any fusion be possible when I find

whatever I am interpreting beyond contempt? Or what if I am talking to someone who

makes no attempt to understand me?” It was true that I operated, often, by trying to

wrap my head around the dark matters I was looking into, but “fusion” sounded too

intimate.

“But you benefit as in investigator from the effort,” Hans replied. “An awareness

of your own reactions - the consciousness that informs your prejudice - leads to

greater, though not ever complete, self-understanding. Historically effected

consciousness is an element in the act of understanding itself and … is already

effectual in finding the right questions to ask.335 The traditional ways of thinking that

you feel have led to the oppression of these students need to be questioned, but it is

an error in thinking to believe you can do so by standing outside of tradition. You

334
See Gadamer, Truth and Method, 305.
335
Ibid., 301.
 329

draw from the well of your own traditions in forming your questions; they are, in this

sense, part of your creative energy. You do value asking the right questions?” He

asked this almost impishly.

His question seemed rhetorical so I didn’t respond, but I liked the idea of

tradition being used to question tradition. Instead of beating on a wall empty handed,

why not rip a brick from the wall to use for the smashing? There were probably some

problems with this analogy but that’s what it made me think of.

“And the purpose of interpretation,” he continued, “is not necessarily to find

agreement. Finding intelligibility can be good enough.336 How are you to find greater

justice for these students you are worried about if the ways of thinking you think are

destructive for them remain unintelligible to you? How can you question these ways of

thinking from this position?” Again, he was challenging me, but I found little in his

manner threatening.

I considered this. I still wasn’t sure if I thought this was true, though it did

make me think of the many cases I’d solved, the victims I’d avenged, the future victims

I’d protected, not by dismissing offenders as incomprehensible, but by trying to

understand them. And if I was going to close this case, I did need to ask the right

questions.

Martin, who was now listening with interest, took the opportunity to bring up

something of his own.

“If you want to have any hope of finding justice for these students, look first at

the language that you’ve used to describe them. Every statement you made about

these students when you described this case to us, even the statements about your

supposedly humanist intentions towards them, has cast them as ‘objects’. This is an

336
Ibid., 302.
 330

issue with language. Historically and, in an accelerated way, presently, language

surrender(s) itself to our mere willing and trafficking as an instrument of domination

over beings. Beings themselves appear as actualities in the interaction of cause and

effect.337 Philosophy has been in this rut since Plato, and what we need right now is

less philosophy, but more attentiveness in thinking. 338 Undertake a destruktion,” he

said, punching the hard “c” in the word, “of all of this categorization, of the whole

ontological tradition,339 find a way, like the pre-Socratics, to present these students

outside this objectification, as they are made manifest, being-in-their selves.”

I would have liked the idea better if I understood how I was supposed to achieve

this destruction and how I was supposed to find a way to present students as in-

themselves. I at least understood Hans well enough to consider his views. Martin’s

thinking sometimes seemed almost mystical to me. I tried to say it back in my own

words. “If the appearance of slow learners as lacking or defective is an effect of a

variety of inequities in educational institutions, any attempt to bring justice for them

needs to acknowledge this and try to find a more genuine way for them to appear as

students in schools.”

I had been concentrating hard on formulating that sentence and thought it had

a nice ring to it. Martin looked grimly at me and told me that the ontological and

epistemological problem ran much deeper than this and I was bound to fail if I could

not see and address this, and then he fell silent.

Hans spoke up. “I do not fully share my friend and teacher’s pessimism. Writing

off modern thought so completely strikes me as somewhat dangerous.” Martin’s face

twitched a little at being challenged, however gently, by Hans but he remained silent

337
Heidegger, “Letter on Humanism,” 243.
338
Ibid., 276.
339
Heidegger, Being and Time, 44.
 331

on this charge. Hans continued, “I do not think there is some oppressive and

monolithic ‘language of metaphysics’ because language is simply that which we speak

with others and to others. 340 Metaphysics occurs only when language becomes

hardened into concepts – and this rigidity can be restored, not through the

abandonment or rebirth of philosophy, but through continual dialogue and

(re)interpretation.” But then Hans hastened to add, “I do, however, appreciate the

threat to intellectual freedom posed by trends toward bureaucratization,

specialization, accountability and, as I said, technologization of knowledge, but it is

still up to us to discover free spaces.”341 And there it was again. The free spaces idea. It

spoke to me.

“You speak of restoring justice for these slow learners as solving the case,”

Martin said, resuming his critique of me after recovering from the mild one directed at

him by Hans. “Has it occurred to you that too much ‘solving’ has already been

undertaken on their behalf? We encounter beings as actualities in a calculative

businesslike way, but also scientifically and by way of philosophy, with explanations

and proofs 342 Even the assurance that something is inexplicable belongs to these

explanations and proofs. You should be considering ways not to solve slow learners,

but to restore the mystery of their persons, to be content to exist in the nameless

[until] you and they can be claimed again by being.”343

“With no official label slow learners have been existing in the nameless. That’s

been part of the problem,” I countered. Martin raised an eyebrow.

340
Hans-Georg Gadamer, “Letter to Dallmayr,” in Dialogue and Deconstruction: The Gadamer Derrida
Encounter, ed. Diane P. Michelfelder and Richard E. Palmer? (New York: State University of New York
Press, 1989), 98.
341
Gadamer, “The Idea of the University,” 59.
342
Heidegger, “Letter on Humanism,” 243.
343
Ibid.
 332

Still smiling, Hans elaborated on this point for me. “Not the namelessness of a

bureaucratic style of inattentiveness to their needs, the namelessness of, as my

teacher has called it, ‘care.’ Being attentive to what is unsaid; the unsayable. As Davey

has written, “Our understandings have ever-present limits.”344 There is a strong ethical

implication to these limits as they remind us to maintain a “principled otherness”345 in

how we interpret others, indeed to a large degree we remain mysteries to ourselves as

well. As for language, the occasionality of human speech is not a casual imperfection of

its expressive power; it is, rather, the logical expression of the living virtuality of speech

that brings a totality of meaning into play, without being able to express it totally.”346

“So let me get this straight,” I said. “In order to find justice for slow learners you

are saying I need to find a way to restore their mystery of being, and to try to say what

is both sayable and unsayable about them. How am I supposed to do that?” I wasn’t

being ironic. For once, I really meant it. They had answered all my questions well and

pointed to some things I needed to pay attention to. But what they were asking

seemed a tall order.

At more or less the same time Hans and Martin said “poetry”. Then Martin said

“art” and then “handicraft” and then, most decisively, “thinking”. We all sat in

contemplation.

I drained my second cup of coffee. It had grown cold while we were talking. I

saw from my watch it was 4:30 but I had no idea what time it was when I’d arrived at

the cabin. These two had saved my life, giving me shelter and nourishment and had

stymied Paine’s pursuit of me. What’s more, though I still found much of what they’d

explained to me confusing, some of the disparate elements of the case had started to

344
Nicholas P. Davey, Unquiet Understanding: Gadamer’s Philosophical Hermeneutics (Albany: State
University of New York Press, 2006), 11.
345
Ibid.
346
Gadamer, Truth and Method, 454.
 333

gel a little in my mind. At least they’d solved the mystery of why Williamson thought I

needed to consider the principles of hermeneutic phenomenology in this investigation.

Not that I would have admitted an analogy this childish to them, but I also realized

that, despite what my client said, like Dorothy, the Tin Man, the Lion and the

Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz, I had possessed most of the traits I had needed for

the hermeneutic journey all along. Maybe I’d not proceeded as humbly, patiently, or

wisely as I should have, and Martin and Hans had taken me to task on this, but I’d

been engaged in a rigorous, multifaceted attempt to interpret slow learners and the

educational scene they appeared in. I’d observed, discussed, and listened attentively,

and brought an expanded horizon to each new encounter. I’d even conversed at length

with villains, though admittedly mostly for the purpose of saving my own skin. There

was still a lot I needed to understand about the case but, having learned this much

with my accidental brand of hermeneutics, I hoped that with the heightened

sensitivities I’d gained from this conversation I might follow up my remaining leads in

greater depth and eventually be in a position to offer my client the understandings he

needed to move through his distress about the slow learners.

I also realized it was risky to have spent so long in a place so close to my most

recent captor. Maybe, despite his threats, Paine had believed Martin and Hans and

was looking elsewhere for me. There were many directions I could have gone in and it

probably wasn’t the first time someone had reacted this way to his personality even

without harboring an escaped prisoner. On the other hand, maybe he was simply re-

arming and calling for back up. I couldn’t afford to stay and find out which one of

these possibilities was correct. Shaking hands with both, I thanked them for the

hospitality, the coffee, and the conversation and said I had to be going. Martin, who

had seemed to have had less use for me as a partner in dialogue than Hans,
 334

nevertheless gruffly asked me to sign a guestbook which he kept on the porch. It

seemed like a big deal to him, so I obliged.

Stepping out of the cabin and surveying the wilderness around, it we saw no

sign of Paine. Pointing along the other side of the cabin, Martin showed me a thin,

partially concealed path back to civilization, one that would emerge well clear of the

building I’d recently escaped. A thought seemed to strike him and he asked me to wait

while he went back into the cabin. He returned with Paine’s revolver and said I should

take it along with me.

My leg throbbed during my walk back, but I noticed my stamina for traveling

was much improved now that I was thawed, rested, caffeinated, and following a

purposeful path. My aimless flight from Paine had somehow brought me to a safe

place but it had been exhausting and terrifying. After a half an hour of travel, holding

a reasonable pace, I reached the end of the forest. It emerged in the now familiar

industrial district. I saw the building I’d been held in was far off in the distance, and I

knew that Hans had indeed directed me well. I had seen no one on my walk through

the forest, but it seemed unlikely the same would be true back in town. Realizing the

large weapon I was carrying would bulge too obviously under my coat, I pocketed the

shells, dissembled it as best I could without tools, smashed the grip with a rock and

distributed the various parts in several dumpsters along the block. My pleasure in

wrecking something of Paine’s was only dampened by the thought that I was treating

one of Candace’s relations so unkindly.

When I was done disposing of Paine’s weapon, I kept on walking west. The sun

was beginning to set. I saw a collection of workers, who I assumed to be coming off of

day shifts at various factories, huddled around a bus stop – there was probably a

shuttle that came around at this time for them. I waited with the crowd, and got on
 335

the bus with them when it came along. I had to pay the driver a full five dollars

because I didn’t have exact change for the $2.75 tab, but it was worth it not to have to

walk any further. I sat down gratefully but there were more riders than seats on the

bus, and I ended up giving my seat up to a woman who wore a long open coat, under

which her blue coveralls bulged out to reveal a very pregnant belly. I stood and held

onto the railing, piecing a puzzle together in my mind as the city lights began to shine

on the passing factories. I was getting close to something major. I wasn’t sure to what,

but I could feel it.

After a while, I walked up to the bus driver and got directions back to the part

of the city where I hoped my car still was. A half hour ride on this bus, a transfer, a

shorter ride on the next one, and a short walk later, I was safely in front of the

internet café from which I’d been apprehended. It was almost 6:00 p.m. I felt renewed

and full of purpose after talking to the wise men in the cabin, but being captured had

still burned an afternoon of research and left me with no immediately apparent point

to enter the circle again. I needed to find one.

 336

XXVIII

I checked my city map and saw I was near another two large high schools. That

was good, questioning some educators in light of what I’d learned recently would be a

good way to get the investigation rolling again. Despite Hans’ and Martin’s warnings

about the limits of my knowledge, I felt some sort of realization was out there, just a

little beyond my horizon, and that I was getting closer with each lead I pursued.

It was obviously too late to try to bluff my way into another school, but I figured

if I drove around for a bit I might be able to find a pub where the staffs from both of

the nearby high schools would be likely to hang out. It was the tail end of happy hour.

I drove to and then a little past one of the schools and started looking for the nearest

bar. I entered a shopping complex, and saw a building painted entirely in red above

which the neon sign ‘Ultimate Brew’ glowed. Another lit up sign below promised ‘Fine

Food’ and ‘Beers of the World’. Though it was darkened in the bar, I could see inside

well enough to tell it was busy. I thought I’d give it a try.

I made a partially successful attempt to knock some of the frozen mud off my

shoes and pants, made a wish that the low light would conceal the rest of it, and made

my way in. The pub fell a little short of its name on the inside. Faux vintage beer ad

posters scattered unoriginally over the walls, a chipped laminate floor, and peeling

wood-effect wallpaper completed the depressing scene. A pool table and gambling

machine occupied one section, a large seating area another. Something annoyingly

upbeat played on the speakers, and several television screens with close-captioning on

displayed various hockey games. I went up the bar and, confronted with thirty

different possible taps to choose and none of them my preferred brand, I asked for a

lager that was on for cheap. I was rewarded for my thriftiness with a synthetic-tasting
 337

peach flavored aberration that I nevertheless carried with me as I looked for somebody

to talk to about slow learners.

Wandering around looking for a seat, I listened in on various conversations but

all I overheard was idle chatter; sports, weather, entertainment, like I was listening to

a morning news show being acted out by the pub’s patrons. Then I overheard

something different. Someone was talking curriculum. I looked more carefully to see

where the voices were coming from. There was a tall, lanky dude in a navy blue suit.

He was wearing a novelty tie with hearts on it. His curly hair was receding slightly; it

just meant a larger forehead for now but all he’d have left of it would be a monkish

island in the center in a few years. Across sat a shorter lanky dude, meaning he had

the build of a tall, thin man too but was not tall, as though the first man had been

shrunk to four-fifths size. He wore black corduroy pants and a beige sweater with a

collared shirt under. He’d probably gone to work looking fresh enough, but now his

shirttail hung out below his sweater and his collar stuck out on one side and stayed in

on the other. I asked if I could sit with them and was rewarded with a nod and a

gesture to an empty barstool from the taller man.

Gord, as he introduced himself, continued with a point he was making. “It’s

pervasive,” he said, directing his comments more to the other man. “As a principal, I

adopted the same timetable I’d followed as a student thirty years before. The twenty-

five hour - per credit requirement wasn’t officially on the books until 1993, but even

before then schools were stuck in this logic.” He spoke with an earnestness that belied

his novelty tie.

There was a pause after this and then the shorter man, Chuck, under the

assumption that I too was an educator, asked me what I taught. I said I was a K & E

teacher. He said he worked in K & E too. I wondered if this was just a lucky
 338

coincidence, or if with all the problems with the series of classes and how they were

handled, K & E teachers flocked thirstily to these sorts of places. He asked me why I

got into teaching K & E and I tried to imagine what Williamson might say. I said when

K & E was at its best it was a good opportunity to try to do some authentic teaching

and learning with a group of kids who’d been overlooked. I asked him how he got into

K & E. The conversation he’d been having, the drinks, and his weariness must have

loosened him up a little because, despite our being strangers, he offered a rather

personal story.

“I struggled in school myself,” he said and took a swallow of something dark

and frothy. From his appreciative look I could tell he’d ordered more wisely than me.

He continued. “Eventually my parents sent me to a private school, where I did a little

better but not much. I scraped through high school, and after a while of sort of drifting

around, I went to college as a mature student, at least that’s what they called me. I

partied way too much at first; it took me three years to get my first year. I left the city

after a while and went to a college in a smaller town. I still wasn’t doing well even

though I was living cleaner. Eventually I saw a doctor and got an ADHD diagnosis. I

went on Ritalin as an adult. My marks steadily improved once I could concentrate. I

finished a teaching degree, subbed for three months, and taught grade six. After a

while I got to choose what areas I wanted to focus on, and I started working more with

kids with disabilities. I’ve been in it seventeen years now. I’m in my fourth year of

being a department head of K & E, and they offered me the chance to be assistant

principal this year too.”

Chuck was pretty earnest too; I could see how these two had gravitated toward

each other. I was struck by how his story paralleled Williamson’s and Colleen

Birdseye’s stories of their own struggles in school. That made three teachers I talked to
 339

who had struggled in school and had made K & E the focus of their teaching. I didn’t

ask about that, though. I remarked that if his school actually had a leadership

position involving K & E that it must have a pretty comprehensive approach to it.

“We had ninety students enrolled in English 20-4 this year,” Chuck said. “But a

lot of those students will move on to get the high school diploma. Of the students

who’ve stayed with K & E, we’ve had a one hundred percent completion rate of the

Certificate of Achievement.”

“Why do you think it’s working so well?” I asked.

“Administrative support. My principal actually values the work we do in K & E,

and we do a lot of self-directed learning, which the students like, and we have teachers

who actually want to teach K & E and are good with the students.” He took another

sip of his stout and I dutifully did the same with my peach beer.

“That sounds good,” Gord remarked, “but in some of the better schools I’ve

worked in we didn’t just deal with K & E as a discrete program.” He thought for a

minute and then went on, his momentum gaining with each sentence. “Of course,

these are the sorts of schools that individualize for any kid who needs it and provide

opportunities to adjust pacing. They don’t talk about ‘modified programming,’ they

just meet the needs of the students. They don’t approach curriculum in traditional

ways, along grade lines, stream lines, and subject lines. Credentialing can happen

after the fact. They’re just responsive to the realities of the student in front of them.

Not just K & E, but all labels seem to disappear from the lexicon with flexible teaching.

Every kid’s label is disappearing, they’ve become individual.” He’d become a little

excited during this explanation, and took a deep breath and a deep swallow of his

brownish ale.
 340

This seemed like a good chance to resort to one of my standby questions.

“Something that’s been bothering me,” I said, making eye contact with both of them in

turn, “is whether slow learners, you know the sorts of kids we are supposed to

recommend to K & E, are born learning as they do or are produced by schools.” I was

coming to realize this was an impossible question to answer, but it was a great

question to ask. Every time I had, I’d learned a lot about the vantage point of the

person I was questioning.

Without a second’s hesitation the taller man said, “Produced. Just like any

other labeled kids they are produced by our system. As a principal, I ask students

‘what kind of kid are you’ and they say ‘I’m an honors student’, or ‘I’m a seventy-three

percent student’ or, in this case, ‘I’m a K & E student.’”

The shorter man was more circumspect. The question seemed to stick in his

craw a bit. He looked disturbed. “I pray to God slow learners aren’t manufactured.

Maybe its half nature / half nurture. I know my medication helps me. I can feel the

difference, that’s real, that’s not produced.” He considered this for a moment. “Then

again, from early on in school, you often have the robins and the blackbirds. In

elementary sometimes the teachers prefer working with the good readers, so the

shittiest readers are furthest from the teacher’s desks. It’s all about attitude, you

know, if you get told something for long enough. When I was in school I never told off a

teacher who didn’t deserve it.” With that he produced a package of cigarettes and said

he was going outside to have one.

“It’s more than that,” Gord asserted, as his companion was leaving. “The

traditional way of high school teaching is damaging to students. The Carnegie Unit

standardizes every aspect of teaching and learning. This standardization can be insane

considering how we learn as humans.”

 341

I asked him to explain what a Carnegie Unit was, and he told me it was a

system of organizing the amount of time high school students were to spend studying

each individual subject during a school year.347 I made a mental note to find out more

about that with some investigation of my own. “This is the logic of the assembly line

approach,” he explained, “to make sure teachers can efficiently do the work they are

supposed to do, unfortunately with zero focus on learning. The Carnegie Unit made

sense for its time. As massive increases in student enrolment in schools occurred in

the nineteenth century in public education, there was a need to standardize the

system for mass education. Harvard needed to know what students wanting to attend

there had learned in high school. The industrial model was easy to administer. But it’s

only if you accept the challenge to break out of the traditional model that every

individual can have a meaningful education.”

Maybe I was missing something but I didn’t really see how allocating time by

subject area was the main problem that slow learners faced so I tried to steer the

conversation towards something that had emerged as an issue instead. “Do you see

educational disability labeling as a part of that traditional model?” I asked.

“Absolutely. A young man with an intellectual disability, if he was of age, could

walk into this bar and be served, but as soon as he walked into a school he would be

placed elsewhere than with the other students. It’s an artificial environment, and

that’s a complete disservice to anyone in the system. Why can’t we create a chemistry

lab that any high school student at any instructional level can get something out of?”

“I’m still not sure blended classes can be as inclusive as you claim,” Chuck

offered, having returned, and caught the tail end of Gord’s statement, “but even within

our discrete K & E classes we see a huge range of student ability as well as a very

“Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching, “FAQs: What is the Cargenie Unit?”
347

Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching (2014), http://www.carnegiefoundation.org/faqs.

 342

diverse set of interests and learning styles among the students. That’s why we do self-

directed learning. The students can all do meaningful projects regardless of these

differences.”

A waitress came by. They both ordered another pint of what they were

drinking. I said I was still working on mine; it wasn’t pleasant work.

“If you have enough imagination, inclusion is always possible,” Gord insisted.

“A fellow principal I knew told me that at his school there was a student who fell into a

permanent coma. He remained part of his school’s band program. He attended band

class and the school even made arrangements for him to go to performances. He was

able to participate as best as he was able to in band. So too should all students be

given these sorts of inclusive participation opportunities.”

I wasn’t sure the words ‘attend’ or ‘participate’ truly fit the situation he was

describing here, but then I wondered, who was I to say so? Gord continued, “At the

school I used to be principal of, we had an overarching theme based on the Habits of

Mind principles of Art Costa, and we gave out a Habits of Mind Award.348 The first

award went to a student who had a moderate intellectual disability and was born with

no eyes, but who had excelled at high school art. As a part of the Habits of Mind

programming, students were required to present an overarching project in grade

twelve. Her project was a series of finger-paintings she had completed. She’d met

outcomes from the Art 10, 20 and 30 programs of study with the project.”

My interest rose with each of these stories, but they seemed more to me like

inclusion parables, meant more to prove a point than describe any common practice.

“Aren’t these examples a little far out – you know, exceptional?” I asked, “Would we

348
Art L. Costa and Bena Kallick, Learning and Leading With Habits of Mind: 16 Essential
Characteristics for Success (Alexandria: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development,
2008).
 343

really be likely to see these sorts of things in most schools, now or anytime in the near

future?”

“Fear of the unknown is a big problem,” Chuck agreed. “How many teachers

would have the courage to try things like this?”

“Teachers don’t bear all the blame for not always seeing the opportunities for

inclusive practice. I feel like they want to tar and feather me sometimes when I tell

them this, but they are caught in the logic of the system,” Gord reflected, then added,

“It’s hard to separate inflexible attitudes from the system. The logic of the assembly

line drives decision making. My son, according to his teacher, who states it regretfully

but as a given, ‘knows his stuff but can’t do multiple choice tests.’ There is no

recognition of alternate possibilities for assessment. That’s what the assembly line

dictates. My daughter is in Advanced Placement courses. The whole gifted education

stream also fosters a sense of laziness in educators. We don’t need to get to know

these kids as learners, thinking they can practically teach themselves. It leads to a

lazy approach to education. It allows teachers to fall into traps that are artificial – it

does not reflect what human learning is all about.”

“That’s all true, but individual teachers can break out of this,” Chuck insisted.

“Everybody can remember a teacher who helped them and a teacher who didn’t. The K

& E kids need teachers who will keep them asking questions, not shut them down.”

I found myself thinking about the men I had met at the cabin, Hans’ talk of

bureaucratized learning systems and Martin’s statements of technological modes of

being. Both these concerns echoed eerily, particularly in Gord’s complaints about the

industrial model of schooling. I wondered about ways of transgressing these

boundaries. I remembered the advice “cultivate free spaces.” Both, in their own ways,

had spoken to the possibilities and the obstacles inherent in trying to do this. But
 344

they’d both only spoken of their local efforts. I wanted to know if there was something

larger, on a provincial level that held the promise of a free, or at least freer, space for

slow learners. When I met Williamson near the start of the case, I thought I’d heard

him speak of something like this. I asked if they’d heard of anything on the horizon.

“There was Action on Inclusion – an ambitious reform of special education in the

province,” Chuck said, “but I’m not really sure what is happening with that. But

there’s also something called the High School Flexibility Project. I think that might

make a huge difference for K & E students.”

“I agree,” said Gord, “The high school flexibility project could be very helpful for

better inclusion of K & E students. There is also a new initiative called Inspiring

Education. It lays out a challenging and provocative vision of what education will need

to be in twenty years. The inflexible practices we’ve been talking about are definitely

not endorsed in this vision.”

I felt my excitement mounting. Would I finally find lasting justice for slow

learners in these initiatives? I was eager to start chasing these leads down. The

waitress returned and I was surprised to see that I had finished most of the disgusting

brew I’d ordered, sipping excitedly as I heard about these initiatives, now oblivious to

the taste. I paid for myself and for the drinks my two new acquaintances had

consumed so far, to their surprised gratitude. Chuck asked if I could stay longer and

continue chatting with them, but I claimed to have school work to do. I cursed myself

for not bargaining more firmly with Williamson for the inclusion of liquor as a part of

my expenses; it had proven a useful tool of the trade once again.

Back at my motel I brewed some coffee. I had some thinking to do. The truth,

or, I corrected myself remembering Hans and Martin, some truth about this case was

out there. I just needed a couple more things to fall in place before I could see it. I am
 345

not a voluminous note taker. I have a strong memory and concentrate hard when on a

case and make a lot of mental notes which I tend to be able to retrieve on command.

Occasionally I jot something especially important down, more as a way of cementing

things in my recall for future reference. It’s proven an effective method for me; as

bashed around as I get on cases, my head is usually the only safe place to keep

things. Even so I’ve wondered how long the lock on the much-abused filing cabinet

between my ears will hold out for – one day it might give, and all the depraved

miscellany will spill out at once. This time to get my thinking started, I took the alarm

clock and lamp off the circular night table and, once the table was empty, laid out the

few business cards and scraps of paper with notes I’d written out so far on the case.

Staring at these fragments, I filled the rest of the space with imagined representations,

phrases or images, for all the leads I had checked out so far. I stared at the table until

it wasn’t a table anymore, just a circle of words and pictures.

Along the upper curve of the circle, I saw the faces of my adult interviewees. I

had a bunch of dedicated teachers, administrators, and a program manager who, even

if they couldn’t agree on every aspect of how slow learners should be supported, all

seemed to recommend personalized approaches. On the subject of personalization I

imagined, as the circle curved down, a hand reaching out. Three of the teachers I

talked to, including Williamson, reached out to these students in solidarity having

struggled themselves in school. But then I saw the number one hundred. I saw the

problematic hundred-year-old solution to the issue of slow learners – segregation and

vocational education; how personalized was that? But I’d been surprised to discover

how this approach, despite coming from the vantage point that these students learned

differently than regular students and required different programming, had in its

various inceptions sometimes seemed sincere, well-intentioned, effective, and

 346

appreciated by students and parents. Below this I imagined an oasis in the middle of a

barren dessert. Matthew Summit, the father of one such program, had turned out to

be less interested in conversations of inclusion and more interested in creating an

educational oasis of sorts for a targeted group of vulnerable students. But had it

become merely a mirage in many of the districts that implemented his vision? Along

the bottom curve I saw the ugly images from the sorting museum and thought of the

troubling history of exclusion based on increasingly formalized determinations of

intellect and impairment. Rounding the curve back upwards were the media

portrayals of slow learners, often demeaning, at times romantic, but always limiting.

Smart Ass Cripple sat above this, invoking in his own sarcastic way the activism of

disability studies, a rejection of exclusionary practices and deficit labelling, and a

demand for an authentic justice untainted by pity and paternalism. I saw Jacques and

Michel grinning at me. Their ideas fit like a hand in a glove with disability studies,

ongoing challenges to the arbitrariness of categorization. Though they were long gone,

the modes of critique they demonstrated in the museum of sorting were still with me.

I saw the students. I’d met some students who, in equal measures, resented

their categorization but often appreciated some of the supports that came with it. The

students Colleen Birdseye told me about had even protested the closure of the school

they’d been they’d been placed in via IOP/K & E tracking. Then I saw the villains.

Veronika Sternwood in her seductive positivism, and Maddox Paine with his social

Darwinism; I didn’t like it, but both of them made claims on slow learners as well. I

wondered if there were more dangers out there than these two. Next I saw the small

cabin in the forest and thought of the thinkers who had given me shelter. I was still

wrapping my head around what I’d learned from Hans and Martin. The limits to our

understanding of ideas like slow learner and the consumptive mode in which people
 347

and knowledge itself are made available in modernity were certainly concerns that

applied to my investigation. I rounded the circle again, past my interviewees and back

to the number one hundred. But this time I saw the current inception of this form of

vocational programming for slow learners; a series of classes that very few students

were taking while a mysterious twenty percent of all students were not completing

high school – a challenge to the efficacy of K & E, and to every other measure in place

to engage at-risk students.

I looked at the circle and wondered where the slow learners were. My client had

hired me because he thought that the slow learners had disappeared or were being

disappeared by the system. Had I been able to make them reappear? Remembering

Colleen Birdseye’s insistence that the only useful common characteristic about K & E

students was that they were all complex learners, and the diversity of the students I

had met and heard about that shared this label, I realized the case had been pulling

me away from the idea that there was some sort of essence to slow learners that held

the key to educating them properly. Without making a conscious choice, I’d changed

my emphasis from looking for this essence to looking for justice for students who

would be labelled or considered slow learners, assuming that only justice could make

them appear as they ought to. Having reflected on this shift in emphasis, this way the

case had worked on me even as I had worked on it, I found it fitting, and felt

determined to continue along these lines. I wondered if my client would approve.

Smart Ass Cripple and other interviewees had intimated that it might not be

such bad thing if the slow learners, as a deficit category, disappeared – if more

inclusive practices made it so – in a good way. Related to this were the ongoing rumors

I’d heard that efforts were underway to make the system more inclusive for everyone.

Had the larger system, as I had in my investigation, started to figure out that its
 348

fixation on how educational deficits appeared in students might not be the proper

perspective to see opportunities for the inclusion of these students? I confirmed that

what I next needed to check out was the set of educational reforms my most recent

interviewees had mentioned. I had to try to figure out if these initiatives were likely to

bring an inclusive and attentive sort of justice, the kind that Colleen Birdseye and

others had spoken of, to slow learners. Or would they be forgotten, undermined, or

shunted off to the side again? I still felt determined to ask the informants that Summit

had mentioned everything I could about this, but I realized I might need to know a

little more for myself first in order to ask effective questions. My client didn’t seem to

know much about the reforms, but maybe we could figure some of this out together.

I looked back at the imagined circle on the table. I was grateful to have had the

chance to catch my breath and review the case, and thought the next steps this

exercise had brought me to were logical ones. But I sensed that there was something

more; something mysterious that I was still trying to wrap my head around. I stared at

the circle on the table hoping it would project some sort of larger truth to me. The

truth was in there – the circle practically vibrated with its power – but I still couldn’t

quite get it to appear, not yet. I wanted so badly to put this case to bed, but there sat

the circle, withholding something. Keeping it in my peripheral vision in case some

larger truth suddenly sprang out, I walked over to the phone in my room and called

my client.
 349

XXIX

A pleasant voice I assumed to be Williamson’s wife answered the phone and said

she would get him. There was a pause as she carried the phone to him and then I

heard her telling him she had no idea who it was. Williamson’s voice greeted me.

“I need to talk to you about education reform,” I said.

“I’m kind of busy. Report cards are due the day after tomorrow and I am

marking,” Williamson said, sounding oddly reluctant.

“I’m close to breaking this case,” I told him, exaggerating, “and this is an

important piece. We need to talk now.”

Williamson agreed, though with no great enthusiasm, to meet me. Thinking that

I might have to pry some secrets out of my sometimes cagey client, I said I’d pick him

up. I didn’t want him to be surrounded by the comforts of home this time when I

asked him questions. I asked him to bring a computer along if he had one. As I drove,

I wondered if it was really the marking or if some other reason was making Williamson

hesitant to talk. I understood that the actual work of teachers could be quite pressing

at times, but he’d been so worried and eager when he hired me, and as I began my

investigation. I wondered what was going on now.

I pulled into his driveway and walked up to the front door. I was about to press

the doorbell when he opened the door. He slipped a coat over a plain white t-shirt. He

was wearing faded jeans and a baseball cap with the logo of what I presumed to be a

local brewery on it. I took this to be his marking outfit. He carried a beat-up laptop

computer with him. We got in the car and drove off.

Williamson looked uncomfortable, even more so than usual. I thought it might

cheer him up if I told him about my meeting a couple of scholars I was sure would be

legends of hermeneutics to him, but I realized there was still some advantage to being
 350

able to feign ignorance when he talked about hermeneutics to me, and telling him

about my meeting with Hans and Martin might undermine it. Instead, I just asked him

what was bothering him.

“It’s just that I have all this marking,” he said unconvincingly.

“No it isn’t,” I rebutted. “You were so torqued at the start of this case you would

have set anything aside for a while to help me with the investigation. What’s going

on?”

He stared off into the night, hoping I’d forget the question. When we pulled up

to a light, though, I took the chance to look right at him expectantly, to let him know I

was still waiting.

He finally spoke up, blurting out, “It’s just – what happens if we make things

worse? Maybe I just need to keep quiet on all the problems and try to protect K & E as

it is right now.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded. “The only thing going for slow

learners is a program that despite, its good intentions, very few of them want to be in.

Most of them, at least the ones that the regular program is truly too hard for, are

probably still dropping out of high school instead of taking K & E. How could it get any

worse?” In all honesty I knew that things could always get worse, you don’t operate in

the underbelly of society without learning that. But it seemed like a good question to

ask to get at what was bugging Williamson.

Williamson sighed and began to explain. “We are planning for next year at the

school I work at. With so few kids in K & E, the principal is asking why we need

separate core classes for them. She says it’s a waste of human resources tying up our

K & E assigned teachers with these classes when they could be teaching regular

classes. The extra sections, she says, would help keep class sizes down for everyone.
 351

And she says having these K & E kids stuck together with each other in their core

classes and taught by K & E specialists is ghettoizing them, that they deserve to be

included with their peers more and to have access to teachers who are skilled in the

subject areas they are teaching. I don’t really get that part. Most of the students we

enroll in K & E end up graduating with one of the two credentials; probably half of

them end up transitioning successfully to the diploma stream. The K & E teachers

must know something about the subjects they teach to be having that kind of success,

but it’s almost like it’s a black mark on them that they want to work with these kids –

like they couldn’t get a regular teaching gig even if they tried. Anyhow, she wants to

throw all the K & E students into the regular education classes with regular education

teachers and have the teachers give K & E credits to any kids who can’t handle the

work at that level. A default, no-dignity pass at the K & E level for attempting regular

education work they can’t understand.”

I thought Williamson was being overly cynical. This was my act and I didn’t like

him stealing it. Whatever he thought of the blended classes, there was no reason to

think that the teachers of these classes would be unwilling or unable to try to meet the

needs of their new K & E students. Additionally, he’d always claimed to strongly

support inclusion, but was now claiming that enrolling his K & E students in core

classes with kids from the next highest academic tier was throwing them to the

wolves. So I challenged him on this, asking if what he was objecting so strongly to

couldn’t be seen as a form of inclusion.

“Inclusion into what?” Williamson asked back, and I recalled being asked the

same question by an alert, modishly-dressed teacher in a staff room a few days back

when we were discussing this same exact practice.

 352

I’d just been arguing the other side of the topic to help tease out whatever was

bothering Williamson, but I suddenly realized this was an important question. Could

slow learners get more justice in discrete or blended classes? It felt like this question

had been hiding in plain sight since early on in the investigation. Now it was out in the

open demanding attention. I challenged Williamson further on his negative views of

blended classes, noting, “But some of the people I’ve been talking to have described

teaching or observing blended classes and said it worked well.”

“Yeah, K & E specialty teachers,” replied Williamson. “In classrooms with low

class sizes in vocational schools specifically organized to look out for less academic

students.” He was obviously talking about Colleen Birdseye, and it was true that if

anyone could make space for slow learners in a blended class it would be her. But

there were more possibilities here than Williamson was owning up to. The students I

talked to described liking a blended science class that, as far as I could figure, was

just taught by a regular science teacher. Gord, the principal I’d met at the pub, had

opined that it was already obvious what K & E students needed to thrive, schools

where flexibility was the norm and academic tiering was de-emphasized.

I rounded a corner. I was driving down a busy strip looking for an all-night diner.

The constant cold and constant confusion of this case had done strange things to my

appetite. I had felt a deep hunger that I hadn’t ever filled since arriving in this city. I

thought I saw something in my rear view mirror but then I wasn’t sure. I’d have to

keep an eye out. As I was driving I reflected that, despite his attempts to defend

himself, for the first time I thought I was hearing the familiar tones of dogmatism and

hypocrisy in this client of mine who claimed to be an inclusionist. At least the father of

IOP, Summit, had come right out and said inclusion wasn’t his highest priority. I
 353

stayed mum on all this, though, I wanted to see where Williamson’s dark thoughts on

this matter would take him.

Williamson either read my mind or heard himself sounding inconsistent

because he spoke up again in his own defense. “Sometimes, in my K & E classes, I’ve

had students who I felt were strong enough to be assessed at the next higher level so

that’s what I did. And we always teach K & E with the consideration that we are

getting many of these kids ready for the next level, so we’re not trapping anyone in

that tier by running discrete classes. But consider the risks of doing blended classes

full stop in a regular school.” He took a breath and I steeled myself for a long

hypothetical. “Maybe your first year with blended classes,” Williamson continued, “you

keep the class sizes really low in the blended classes with the K & E kids and hand-

pick teachers who are good at personalizing to teach them. The next year the classes

get a little bigger and the K & E kids are spread out a little more or maybe the hand-

picked teacher moves to a different school. The next year, there’s a provincial budget

cut and the administration of the school now more than ever thinks they can’t afford

to give any consideration to the size of the classes with the K & E students in it. And

by now the K & E level kids are spread out so thin that there’s only one or two in every

class. Eventually the district’s central administration notices that no one is doing

anything with K & E and stops funding schools for K & E teachers. Pretty soon nobody

even remembers the K & E level credits are on the books as a possibility and the

students who the teachers think can’t pass their classes at the high school diploma

level just fail. Or, if that sounds too paranoid, the K & E courses do stay on the books

but only, like I said, as a default pass for failing students tacked on at the end of the

course with no attempt at modification throughout.”

 354

I wasn’t sure if Williamson was being appropriately hard-boiled or, as he

himself said, down-right paranoid. “That’s a pretty bleak prediction, but I guess it

could go that way,” I offered noncommittally. “But what does all this have to do with

your reluctance to help me tonight?” I looked in my rear view mirror again.

“What if we end up helping kill K & E?” Williamson speculated. “I’ve always

thought there were some problems with how it was conceived or handled, I’m not sure

which, and lately it seems less popular than ever. Most of what you’ve found out

seems to confirm this. But what if the problems we turn up in this investigation, a lot

of which were probably pretty available for the seeing …” he looked at me and I

shrugged in agreement, “what if this investigation is the final nail in the coffin? What if

this kind of research leads to the killing of K & E? And what if they replace it with

nothing? Where would slow learners be then?”

I thought about that. I had to admit that it was a good question, but I had one

of my own. “But K & E won’t exactly be replaced with nothing, the system is supposed

to be changing. Will there even be a need for K & E with all the reforms that are

underway to make education more flexible and inclusive for everyone?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Williamson admitted but then added, “Slow learners are barely

on the radar now, but at least there’s a curriculum with a group of students attached

to it and some sort of a fuzzy concept about how these students learn. As problematic

as the label is, if there is anything at all to the concept of slow learner, if any of the

claims about how they learn are true, at least contextually, then these students need

to be part of the discussion about making education more inclusive.”

“But if you keep singling groups of students out into all these categories based

on reasons they can’t learn like so-called normal students how can you really say you

are including them?” I asked.

 355

“But how can you make a space for their inclusion without considering what

might be the most unique and crucial aspects of their learning needs?” Williamson

asked back.

We were both quiet for a minute in acknowledgment of this seemingly

irresolvable question He didn’t say anything, but I sensed a shift in Williamson’s

attitude away from the impossible wish to withdraw and build a fence around this

endangered series of classes and toward the need to take this investigation down the

path of the recent educational reforms and try to figure out where slow learners fit. I

checked my rearview mirror once again. I was now sure someone was tailing us. There

were plenty of snow-encrusted white trucks in the city but this particular one had

been my constant companion for several blocks. The driver was doing a good job by

hanging back a couple cars and choosing a different lane when possible, but I’d made

him nonetheless.

We drove up to an intersection where the light was about to turn red. I entered

the intersection anyway, executed an illegal U-turn, sped back the way I’d just come

for a block, and then made another hairpin right-hand turn down a different road. I

continued in this manner, making a variety of turns to ensure I would remain lost to

my tail but getting somewhat lost myself in in this unfamiliar city. I saw a neon light

above one of the businesses we passed advertising glow-in-the-dark bowling, and I

saw that the establishment had a back parking lot. If I was going to try to confer with

Williamson, maybe I’d need to switch to a more unlikely venue than an all-night diner.

I whipped down the side road, entered the back parking lot and parked in a dark

section concealed by a crookedly placed dumpster. We waited five minutes. The white

truck was nowhere to be seen. Satisfied I’d lost the tail for now, I led a confused-

looking Williamson into the bowling alley.

 356

XXX

A family of four, a trio of teenagers, and what appeared to be a double-dating

couple occupied three of the lanes while the rest sat empty. A disco soundtrack played

and the lanes glowed blue with strips of red lighting all the way to the pins. Video

screens above the pins danced in kaleidoscope patterns. It was nauseating. I

attempted to tell the apparent proprietress we just wanted to go to the lounge for now,

but she told me that they only served clients who purchased games. I reluctantly paid

the applicable fees for games I had no intention of playing and shoes I had no

intention of wearing. We walked past the lanes into a lounge near the back of the alley

that was, mercifully, far enough away from the stereo system to allow conversation if

one was willing tolerate the sound of crashing balls and pins from time to time. I

purchased from a bored cashier a coffee for myself, a coke for Williamson, and a bag of

potato chips. We sat at the table near the back of the lounge.

I asked Williamson to tell me everything he knew about the various reforms that

might impact slow learners.349

He thought for a moment, and then began. “In 2007, we were told Alberta

Education was going to audit the documentation for students with severe disabilities,

you know mental health, behavior, and medical conditions seen as having a major

impact on school functioning and requiring high levels of support.350 They wanted to

see if the students with these labels truly fit the criteria and schools were doing a

proper job of documenting the services they were receiving.”

“Why did this happen? What brought this on?” I asked.

349
See Chris Gilham and W. John Williamson, “Inclusion’s Confusion in Alberta,” International
Journal of Inclusive Education, (July 2013), doi:10.1080/13603116.2013.802025. Chris Gilham and I
wrote a paper that describes, in a more traditionally academic style of writing, and without reference to
slow learners specifically, some of the recent changes to special education in Alberta. This section
outlines some of the same changes and gives a similar perspective on them.
350
Alberta Education, Special education coding criteria, 7.
 357

“I think it was the increase in the amounts of students being labeled. I swear, in

the first ten years I worked at my school, the amount of students with codes –

especially severe codes – must have more than doubled,”351 Williamson replied.

“Interesting, but so what?” I asked. I still didn’t see what this had to do with

slow learners.

“So every one of these labeled kids brought in extra funding to the school,”

Williamson answered. “A couple years ago, a student with a severe code brought in

another $16,645 beyond the base pupil rate and a student with a mild to moderate

disability brought in $2,438. 352 I’ve even heard of something called the ‘Bounty

Phenomenon’, the observation that some schools may operate by claiming to have as

many students with disabilities as they possibly can, even actively diagnosing as

many students as possible, in order to qualify for the most funding.”353

“Isn’t that sort of unethical?” I asked.

Williamson thought for several seconds and then said, “I guess it is if the

resources aren’t used for what they are supposed to be used for; say, for example, if a

teaching assistant is funded to work with students with disabilities, but actually does

marking and photocopying and rarely works with the kids. But supporting these

students can be expensive. As I said, there are teaching assistants to help them in

their classes, there are teachers of discrete programs and resource rooms for students

351
See Margaret A. Winzer, and Kas Mazurek, International Practices in Special Education: Debates and
Challenges (Washington, Gallaudet University Press, 2011), 51. The period between 1998 to 2003 saw
an increase of 64% in identification of Alberta’s students with severe disabilities and an increase of 140%
for students with mild/moderate disabilities, compared to a general increase in the school population of
5%.
352
Government of Alberta, Funding Manual for School Authorities 2011/2012 School Year (Edmonton:
Crown in Right of Alberta, 2011), 85, 88.
353
Linda J. Graham and Markku Jahnukainen, “Wherefore Art Thou, Inclusion? Analysing the
Development of Inclusive Education in New South Wales, Alberta and Finland,” Journal of Educational
Policy, 26 no. 2 ( 2011): 277, doi: 10.1080/02680939.2010.493230.
 358

with disabilities, and some teachers work as learning coaches - that’s the fashionable

word - to help other teachers work with students with disabilities. In addition to our K

& E teachers, there are several other teachers where I work who are designated as

diverse learning teachers who were probably funded through disability funding. There

are district-wide consultants to support teachers of students with various disabilities

too. There are the psychologists to do the tests that result in many of the diagnoses.

There is a lot of specialized equipment; communication devices for severely autistic

students, programs to read out loud to students who struggle with silent reading or to

translate speech into text for students who struggle with writing. It takes a lot of

resources to get these kids through so as long as school districts are actually using

the money to help support students who struggle in school, I can’t blame them for

wanting to maximize their funding.”

“Never mind school districts, have you been a part of this bounty

phenomenon?” I asked my client, making it personal.

He paused and then replied, “I guess so. Whenever I’ve been involved with

psychologists and consultants to code students, if I thought the student would require

a lot of support, I encouraged whoever was doing the diagnosing to go the route of

severe coding. And to tell you the truth,” he admitted, “we sometimes even kept the

severe codes on students whose needs no longer seemed that severe because for every

one of these there was a student who required a lot of support but who didn’t qualify

according to the coding criteria.”

“Like slow learners,” I said, and Williamson nodded.

“If everyone was up to this kind of thing, no wonder the amount of severe codes

doubled,” I observed.
 359

“That had a lot to do with it, sure,” Williamson acknowledged, “but I think it’s

more complicated than that. There just seems to be a lot more diagnosing being done,

I mean for things like autism, AD/HD, depression, and anxiety in society at large.”354

“Is that good or bad for inclusion?” I wondered.

“I don’t know. In a way, it probably makes people more aware and accepting of

people with disabilities, but it also perpetuates the idea that disability is a problem or

a defect in individual people; I mean, it’s all based on medical or psychological

diagnoses,” Williamson replied equivocally.

I realized we had strayed a bit in our conversation and tried to direct the

conversation back on course. “So what happened in the severe funding audit?” I

asked.

“Well, the experience was pretty awful. I’d already finalized and submitted the

severe coded student’s Individual Program Plans and severe student monitoring forms

for the year to our instructional services branch, but after we heard there was going to

be an audit everyone panicked. We ended up rewriting the Individual Program Plans

very carefully to try to ensure they met the complex coding criteria exactly. It troubled

me to do all that revision seeing as how the parents had already signed off on the

original documents for the year and now we were making big changes to them. But at

the time we thought we were at risk of losing funding.”

“But how did the actual audit come out?” I asked.

“A report came out later that said almost half of the students with severe codes

were found not to meet the criteria.355 But we weren’t actually penalized on any of our

354
Robin S. Rosenberg, “Abnormal is the New Normal Why Will Half the U.S. Population Have a
Diagnosable Mental Disorder,” Slate Magazine, April 12, 2013, 1, http://www.slate.com/articles/
health_and_science/medical_examiner/2013/04/diagnostic_and_statistical_manual_fifth_edition_why_wi
ll_half_the_u_s_population.html.
 360

cases or even told which ones didn’t make it. I don’t think any of this was a surprise to

Alberta Education because shortly after this they launched this massive consultation

about improving Special Education Policy in the province.”

The bowling pins in a couple of lanes crashed at the same time and I waited a

minute before asking Williamson the next question. We sipped our drinks and I

munched on the chips, finding them bland and unsatisfying. When it was a little

quieter again, I asked Williamson to tell me about the process he’d just mentioned. He

told me it was called Setting the Direction.356 It involved three rounds of consultations

with thousands of Albertans. He told me he’d been to one of the consultation sessions

– a massive gathering of administrators, teachers, curriculum leaders, government

ministers and other stakeholders in special education – held at a large convention

centre. The event had been a two-day affair consisting of speakers and video

presentations combined with small group sessions in break-out rooms. The notes from

the sessions held in the break-out rooms were then reviewed by facilitators who

identified common themes in the discussion and announced these to the larger group.

Williamson said he’d found it funny that they never discussed how to better support

students with any specific disabilities, let alone slow learners, only the need to create

a more flexible special education system for everyone. He also told me that one of the

keynote speakers, the Minister of Education at the time, said he wanted to eliminate

the practice of coding students with disabilities while the very next speaker, a

professor of education policy, mused that there would always have to be some kind of

coding in order to identify and meet students’ needs.

355
Alberta Education, Report on Severe Disabilities Profile Review (Edmonton: Alberta Education,
2008), 1.
356
Alberta Education, Setting the Direction Framework (Edmonton: Alberta Education, 2009),
http://education.alberta.ca/media/1082136/sc_settingthedirection_framework.pdf.
 361

Williamson told me that the last phase of the consultation involved the formal

submission of a set of recommendations for reform to the government of Alberta, all

twelve of which were accepted. These recommendations, he said, triggered a reform

initiative known as Action on Inclusion which spoke to a fundamental ethical shift in

Alberta’s classrooms. Illustratively, he opened up an on-line pamphlet from the Action

on Inclusion initiative on his computer and showed me some examples of the planned

reforms.

Moving from tolerating difference to valuing diversity, moving from special

education founded on a medical model based on the student’s diagnosis to

[a practice] of understanding a student’s strengths and needs through

[collaboration] in which teachers, parents, students and specialists ...

identify supports and services that best match the student’s strengths and

needs.357

Williamson then opened up one of the Setting the Direction documents to show me the

vision of inclusion that was to guide the reforms.

One inclusive education system where each student is successful: Inclusive

education system: a way of thinking and acting that demonstrates universal

acceptance of, and belonging for, all students. Inclusive education in Alberta means

a value-based approach to accepting responsibility for all students. It also means

that all students will have equitable opportunity to be included in the typical

learning environment or program of choice. 358

357
Alberta Education, Moving Toward an Inclusive Education System in Alberta (Alberta Education,
2010): 2, http://education.alberta.ca/media/1296822/inclusiveeducationfacts.pdf.
358
Alberta Education, Setting the Direction Framework: Government of Alberta Response
(Edmonton: Alberta Education, 2010), 2.
 362

This was interesting, but I wasn’t sure of its relevance to the case. “Do any of

the Setting the Direction or Action on Inclusion documents talk about slow learners, or

K & E students?” I asked Williamson.

“No, like I said, for the most part it didn’t talk about any categories of students.

But a lot of it seemed to me potentially promising for supporting slow learners. The

idea of teacher’s assessment of student needs driving the supports the students

receive, instead of being totally reliant on medical or psychological assessments of

disability, I thought might empower teachers to take a closer look at slow learners or

any students who were struggling regardless of whether or not they fit into disability

categories. The idea of reducing barriers for everyone instead of working on the

management of various students’ disabilities seemed like it might make classrooms

more accessible for slow learners. Along those lines, the literature acknowledged that,”

he pulled up another website, did a search for a phrase, and showed me another line,

“many of the strategies used to differentiate instruction for students with disabilities

were also effective within the general student population across grade levels and

curriculum areas.”359

“So,” I surmised, recalling a conversation we had early on, “You hired me to

help make sure slow learners don’t get lost in all the commotion. To help hold the

Department to the commitments made in these documents, at least their implicit

commitments to slow learners.”

“Initially, yes,” said Williamson, “but look at this. I discovered it a couple days

ago. That’s why I’m not sure we should be messing with K & E. Maybe, for all of its

problems, it still is the safest place for these students. I’m no longer sure these

359
Alberta Education, Making a Difference: Meeting Diverse needs with Differentiated Instruction
(Edmonton: The Crown in Right of Alberta, 2011), 3.
http://education.alberta.ca /media/1234045/makingadifference_2010.pdf.
 363

reforms are going anywhere, and if K & E goes too I don’t know what will be left for

slow learners.” He ran the cursor over the word “Archive” on the top of the screen and

I realized we hadn’t been reading documents from a current and actively maintained

section of the Alberta Education website. Then he clicked back to a passage that

tersely explained the present state of affairs, “Action on Inclusion no longer exists as a

project or initiative, but the work continues as part of our collective practice to build an

inclusive education system in Alberta.”360

Alberta Education, Government of Alberta – Education – Initiatives, Projects and Reviews – Inclusive
360

Education (2012), http://www.education.alberta.ca/department/ipr/Inclusion (Site discontinued).

 364

XXXI

When I saw the news that the Inclusion Project had been halted, a chill ran

through me, followed by a grim tension that began in my chest and worked its way up

to my jaw. This sounded like a cover-up, like someone had got to someone.

Considering their bureaucratic origins, the Setting the Direction documents Williamson

had been showing me seemed frank and earnest in identifying the problems with the

current model and the reforms identified as necessary. What was this vaguely stated

work in the message I’d just read? I wondered if this phrase, in an Orwellian sort of

way,361 meant its opposite, in just the same way that police cover-ups I’d experienced

on the West Coast were always still labelled “Active Investigations.” I had to remind

myself the background noises I kept hearing were crashing bowling pins and not doors

being slammed shut.

“And take a look at this,” said Williamson, clicking on a video link. Some

upbeat music started up. A blandly handsome man, whom I saw from the by-line was

an education minister at the time the video was produced, spoke up in faintly

accented English, “When you are looking at becoming an inclusive society there really

isn’t a beginning or an end. It is all about a process, it is all about becoming accepting

and inclusive and not reaching a finite goal.”362 From what I had observed on this case,

I had to agree with him. Inclusion was complicated. The video that followed, however,

wasn’t very complicated at all. A group of students with learning disabilities, a student

with a physical disability, students from cultural and linguistic minority groups, and a

361
I am alluding more specifically to the portrayal of deceptive bureaucratic language constructions such
as “ministry of truth,” “ministry of love,” and “reality-control” in George Orwell, 1984 (Bungay:
Penguin, 1976), 6, 7, 31.
362
Alberta Education, Diversity in Alberta schools: A journey to inclusion (Alberta Education, 2012),
YouTube video, 5:49, posted by “Inspiring Education,” January 13, 2012, https://www.youtube.com
/watch?v=8c-3YCr7zR0.
.
 365

student who identified himself as gay were all shown going about their school days.

They were happily participating in the educational and social activities in their school,

and appeared to be receiving, as a matter of course, a variety of forms of support

including peer and teacher support, assistive technology, adaptations to the physical

space, and a gay-straight alliance club. I attended to my first impression and I realized

I was touched. But then I felt a little sick. The lighting in the bowling alley didn’t help,

but it was the saccharine aftertaste of the video that I was reacting most strongly to.

Williamson observed my reaction. “It makes it all look pretty easy, doesn’t it?” he

remarked.

“It looks like all the inclusion that needs to occur is already happening, despite

what the guy said about it being a journey,” I agreed.

“It’s happening, it’s already happened and it’s about to happen,” Williamson

mused, making me think of a confusing article on quantum physics I’d once started to

read in a science magazine in a doctor’s office. Then, returning to a prior point he

added, “You know, inclusion can get pretty messy a lot of time. I spend large parts of

my day helping teachers, students, and teaching assistants work together with each

other, and there’s often tears, frustration, and confusion all around. It’s hard to

convince a busy teacher to take the time to design a different assignment for a student

labelled with a reading disability when that same kid has skipped her class three

times this week and told her off on his first class back. Even though I’m supposed to

be the expert, I sometimes wonder how inclusive my own classroom really is. I was

teaching a story to my K & E English class yesterday, I didn’t think the story was that

hard, but I had a student who was moving up to K & E from a program for students

with intellectual disabilities burst into tears and run out of the room because she said

she didn’t understand any of it.”

 366

“What did you do about it?” I asked.

“When she came back I worked with her a bit, re-reading the story with her one

on one and giving her some hints until she felt more confident,” Williamson replied. “It

wasn’t that big of a deal, but with all my years of doing this, I still didn’t anticipate

that story being any sort of barrier for her, or anyone, until it was.”

I thought about that for a minute. Then Williamson spoke up again. “And where

are the kids with behavioral/emotional disabilities in this video? Or the student with

Tourette’s Syndrome who can’t help blurting out racial epithets?” His rhetorical

question was answered by the sounds of crashing pins. The video had seemed to focus

on the more photogenic forms of diversity.

I was worried Williamson might continue to rant along these lines, and I didn’t

need to hear a bunch of war stories to illustrate why inclusion was more complicated

than the video suggested. I tried to move our inquiry forward with another question.

“Did they change anything at all about special education before Action on Inclusion…?”

I paused, unable to come up with a verb for the particular way in which the project

had ceased to be.

“Good question. Let me try to find out.” He punched some searches into the

computer. I drained my coffee and tried another stale chip before giving up, crumpling

the bag and attempting to throw it into a nearby bin. I missed, and the bag fell on the

floor spilling five chips. The cashier shot me an angry glance and I held out my arms

in apology and went and picked it all up.

When I got back to the table Williamson had already found something. “It looks

like,” he said pointing at a document on the screen, “they did get around to replacing

the model of block funding for each student with a disability with something called a
 367

‘Census’.363 There is still per pupil funding for diverse learning needs, but it’s based on

all the students in the district, not just the ones with diagnosed disabilities, and it’s

more generally called ‘an Inclusive Education Fund.’ It specifically says the resources

are supposed to be used to support all students. Instead of funding specific disabilities

at higher rates, it ties increases in inclusive education funding to a variety of

demographic factors in communities that suggest the students in these communities

have greater needs.”364

He showed me the chart. The new inclusive education funding was set up to

address, through additional funding, community issues including: if there were a

greater number of single parent families than the provincial average, lower average

incomes per family, lower education levels in parents than the provincial average, or

higher rates of children in care in an area and so on.365

“I like how this better addresses the social complexities of struggling in school,”

Williamson admitted. “I remember what we found out about the socioeconomic factors

that might contribute to kids appearing as slow learners, instead of learning disabled.

If they’re no longer just funding for specific students with disabilities, maybe this will

mean distributing resources more equitably for all students who struggle in school

regardless of disability labels. Remember how I told you that was one of the problems

with the slow learner label? Because it wasn’t considered a disability, it didn’t bring in

very much additional funding.”

I considered this. “I can see that,” I said. Still, I’d grown pretty good at

interpreting financial statements over my career, and I could see there was a certain

363
Alberta Education, Funding manual for School Authorities 2014/2015 School Year (Edmonton: Crown
in Right of Alberta, 2013), 28, http://education.alberta.ca/media/8315464/funding%20manual
%20for%20school%20authorities%202014-2015%20school%20year%20v.2.pdf.
364
Ibid.
365
Ibid.
 368

shrewdness that had little to do with philosophies of inclusion at work too. “But it also

makes the funding much more predictable and manageable,” I explained to

Williamson. “The way I understand it, under the previous model, any time a school

district could come up with a new severe code for a student, a massive amount of

funding was suddenly allocated to that student. And Alberta Education had no control

over these increases, as they were dependent on the diagnoses of specialists,

diagnoses that, as you mentioned, are increasing in number. Community

demographics don’t change very quickly and neither does overall enrolment in the

district. I can’t tell if this will actually save Alberta Education money in the short term,

but it will certainly make special education, or inclusive education funding much more

predictable.”

Williamson took that in for a minute.

“Did you find any other significant changes that were made before the

announcement that Action on Inclusion …?” I asked still unable to find the cause of

death to put on the autopsy.

Williamson admitted that he hadn’t.

We both considered this for a minute. “It looks bad,” Williamson agreed. “That

after such a thorough and collaborative process, and after all of those inspiring

promises, that Action on Inclusion was just arbitrarily terminated like that. There was

no warning to stakeholders about it, just a statement saying the Department

supported diversity and the short video I showed you. It almost does make it look like

it was all about the money, or at least that changing the funding model was the main

priority. But that sounds paranoid too – everyone seemed so committed to reform at

the consultations.” At least he’d found the right verb combination for the initiative’s

demise.
 369

“I don’t know if anyone is going to get to the bottom of that one,” I remarked

pragmatically, though it rubbed me the wrong way to admit it. “But do you at least

think the changes to the funding model will influence policies affecting slow learners?"

I asked.

“Well, like I was saying with Setting the Direction, maybe the more flexible funding

model will encourage educators to be a little more accommodating with all the

students who are having trouble, using applicable knowledge of special education

supports and accommodations to try to get all students through, regardless of

category. Then again, that's nothing new. I think a lot teachers tried to do this already

even under block funding. If a student in front of me was having a rough time even

under the old funding model, my first thoughts didn't involve how much block funding

she brought in.”

“Do K and E students still earn more funding per credit?” I asked. It took some

scrolling but it turned out that this hadn’t changed; they were still funded 5/8 on the

credit in K & E courses.366 It seemed ironic really. Slow learners, despite the obscurity

of the label, were in a way now one of the only specifically funded categories of

student; that is as long as they went with the K & E course offerings. We talked about

how these funds, as limited as they were, supported the idea of assigning specific

teachers to look out for K and E students in some way but, again, that there was no

guarantee schools would continue doing this just because we thought this was the

implication.

I looked outside the lounge in the alleys, to see if anyone was watching us. In

one of the middle lanes, a young, muscular dude, his white shirt glowing purple in the

light, shanked his throw at the last minute and threw a gutter ball. I thought for a

366
Ibid., 16.
 370

minute. Williamson had used the word “inspiring,” and I remembered my conversation

at Ultimate Brew and my intention to ask Williamson if he'd heard of Inspiring

Education and the High School Flexibility Project. I'd got the sense that whatever

happened to Action on Inclusion these two initiatives were very much alive and,

according to the two school administrators I talked to, potentially beneficial to slow

learners. I asked him first about Inspiring Education.

“Well, lately, whenever they talk at staff meetings and district professional

development sessions, principals and superintendents of my school district refer to the

three ‘Es’ of being a twenty-first century learner, according to Inspiring Education,

“engaged, ethical and entrepreneurial,”367 Williamson replied. “But I haven’t had time

to look closely at any of the literature the initiative has produced myself.”

I told Williamson there was no time like the present. If this was the vision of the

future of education, we needed to try to find the slow learners in it. Williamson pulled

up the Inspiring Education page from the Department of Education website and we

both surveyed the screen. We scrolled through a page describing Alberta in 2030 and

predicting what the generation that comes to adulthood then will have to be able to do

to thrive in this complex era. We then met the trio of ‘Es’ Williamson had mentioned.

The website briefly explained each value, and its importance to the project of

producing a citizen ready to face the challenges the future posed.

Engaged Thinker – Alberta must cultivate students with an inquisitive,

engaged mind. Students that are prepared to ask “why?” and think

critically about the answers they receive.

367
Alberta Education, Inspiring Education, 5 – 6.
 371

Ethical Citizen – Knowing the answer is not enough. Our children and

grandchildren must be ethical, compassionate and respectful to truly grow

and thrive.

Entrepreneurial Spirit – To shape innovative ideas into real-world

solutions, our education system should develop motivated, resourceful and

resilient citizens. Alberta would do well to encourage our students to be bold,

embrace leadership and actively seek new opportunities.

The document went on to assert that these traits were best fostered not through

teaching that involved the “dissemination of information,” but “a process of

inquiry and discovery.”368 I thought the rhetoric in this echoed the IOP Manual as

well as Summit’s remarks about learning when we met in person. I told this to

Williamson. He agreed with me. “The entrepreneurial spirit idea interests me,”

said Williamson. “It seems written to sound compatible with the other two values,

and I think it can be in some ways. Trying to motivate students to think for

themselves seems obviously worthwhile. But I read a book a long time ago

entitled No Logo that talked about how the idea of being a “free agent” can be

interpreted more critically as a gloss painted over a future of privatization,

frequent layoffs, contractual work over long term employment, and a deregulated

de-unionized labor market.”369

You’d better be resourceful and resilient because it’s a jungle out there. Be

your own boss, because you can’t count on a loyal employer,” I remarked.

Williamson scrolled down and we looked more deeply into the document.

We skimmed over a section that, like the principal I’d met at Ultimate Brew,

criticized the relevance of the industrial model of schooling for the present

368
Ibid.,7.
369
Naomi Klein, No Logo: Taking Aim at Brand Name Bullies (Toronto: Vintage, 2000), 255.
 372

generation of learners. Then there was a further explication of the

entrepreneurial value we had been discussing:

Entrepreneurial Spirit: “I create new opportunities. I am motivated,

resourceful, and self-reliant. Many people describe me as tenacious

because I continuously set goals and work with perseverance and discipline

to achieve them. Through hard work, I earn my achievements and the

respect of others. I strive for excellence and personal success. I am

competitive and ready to challenge the status quo. I explore ideas and

technologies by myself and as part of diverse teams. I am resilient and

adaptable, and have the ability and determination to transform my

discoveries into products or services that benefit my community and by

extension, the world. 370

Maddox Paine’s themes of individualism and intense competition rang out again.

There was something else too. Despite the earlier commitment to move schooling away

from the industrial model, here we were grinding out products and services. I repeated

Martin’s words “standing reserve” and Williamson, who seemed to have some

familiarity with the concept, nodded. We scrolled down further in the document.

We came to a graphic. It was a large blue arrow which pointed to the right of

the page. On the left side of the arrow were the characteristics of schooling that the

new vision of education promised to move away from:

LESS

 Focused on the school

 Centred on the system

370
Alberta Education, Inspiring Education, 20. Emphasis in original.
 373

 Focused on content

 Technology to support teaching

On the right side of the arrow were characteristics the new vision of education

promised to involve:

MORE

 Focused on education

 Centred on the learner

 Building competencies

 Technology to support the creation and sharing of knowledge371

I thought this echoed what many of the educators I talked to said the K & E students

needed. It sounded, again, like what Summit and his team had written in the IOP

manual and what he continued to talk about. I told this to Williamson and he nodded.

Williamson scrolled up again and paused near the beginning of the document. “The

tone of the document is sort of all over the place,” he observed, “There’s all the talk of

entrepreneurship, excellence, competition, and being top-performing, but then there

are earnest statements like this one.” He pointed to a letter written to the then

Minister of Education that had made its way into the document:

In 20 years I hope that education isn’t about grades. Grades judge us on

external things – and don’t take into account the darkness that is often on the

inside. People always say that if you try hard enough you can achieve

anything. But unfortunately that is not true. When I’m being abused, feeling

alone, or if I have a physical or mental disability or don’t have a safe place to

go home to – I can’t try very hard at the things that people measure. Please

371
Ibid., 22.
 374

stop measuring as much. Please give me a chance even if I don’t measure up.

Thanks for listening.372

We weren’t sure what to make of this letter, what commitment to inclusion

it might be implying. “What else does the document say about disability?” I

asked. If Inspiring Education had absorbed Action on Inclusion, I wondered what

traces of the latter initiative’s themes might be found in it. Williamson did a key

word search for “disability” in the document. It appeared once, in the letter we’d

just read. He tried “inclusion.” The word didn’t appear at all. He tried “special

needs.” It showed up three times in the main body of the document. Two of these

mentions were simply demographic descriptors of participants in the committees

that helped create the document. “Special needs” in the context of instruction

only appeared once, in a paragraph about how assistive technology, including

“intelligent clothing” would continue to break down barriers for learners with

special needs.373

“Smarty Pants,” I couldn’t help but remark.

We then scrolled through the document to see if we’d missed anything that

addressed concepts from Action on Inclusion without specifically mentioning any of the

words we’d searched. There really wasn’t very much.

“It looks pretty thin on disability and inclusion,” Williamson said. “It’s almost as

though they think curriculum will be so flexible in the future and technology will be so

advanced that disability will disappear in a way, or at least become less relevant. I

hope they’re right. I hope the changes do open up more spaces for kids.”

“Either that or they just ignored these issues for the most part,” I suggested. I

was trying keep an open mind, but I’d read my share of long on promises - short on

372
Ibid., 50.
373
Ibid., 29.
 375

details documents and was troubled by the inconsistencies. My doubts were starting

to add up. Then I asked, “Where does this leave the slow learners?”

Williamson didn’t say anything for a long time. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “If

this all gets taken up in the right way, and I hope it does, I think it might make a

greater space for slow learners. It recommends many of the teaching practices and

values that I, and many of the people you interviewed from what you’ve told me,

consider beneficial to slow learners. But this isn’t as new at the document suggests.

The idea of student centered, inquiry-based learning in public education has been

around for well over a hundred years and constantly gets evoked in educational

reform. A textbook I once read in my teacher training described how educational

reform tends to start out with progressive ideas of discovery and inquiry learning but

often ends up looking like faculty psychology in the translation.”374

“What does that mean?” I asked Williamson, chafing at the introduction of this

new bit of jargon just as I was finally getting more proficient with the educational

vocabulary I’d heard so far.

“Sorry – the idea that the mind is a muscle that needs to be worked out or

pumped up from memorization – of Greek and Latin and classic literature, preferably.

We’ve obviously dropped the Greek and Latin and de-emphasized the classics, but

teaching to the test operates on pretty much the same principle,” Williamson

explained.375 I considered that. Colleen Birdseye, the two administrators I’d met, and

Matthew Summit had all described embracing more inquiry-based strategies. However

– and maybe I was wrong – from what I’d seen in the schools I visited, the little bit of

374
William F. Pinar, William M. Reynolds, Patrick Slattery, and Peter M. Taubman, “Understanding
Curriculum: A Post script for the Next Generation,” in Understanding Curriculum An Introduction to the
Study of Historical and Contemporary Curriculum Discourses, ed. William Pinar (New York: Peter Lang,
2008), 859.
375
Ibid.
 376

assigned work I saw the students completing with the help of the teacher and

assistants in Williamson’s learning centre, and in the social studies classroom I’d

subbed in, didn’t look much like this. It seemed more like kids sitting in rows doing

worksheets.

Williamson seemed to read my mind, saying, “I’ve seen both the high school

diploma level English and Social Studies programs of study re-written in my years as a

teacher. Both curricula were supposed to be more flexible and inquiry-based.376 But

what I’ve often seen in practice after ten years with these new curricula, is kids

answering questions from textbooks, and writing multiple choice tests and in-class

essays that seem modeled after diploma exams; things slow learners don’t do very well

with.

This was a familiar complaint. Other interviewees had made it too. “That’s not

very inspiring,” I remarked, echoing the name of the document we were looking at.

“Maybe this time will be different. I hope so,” Williamson repeated, and then

added. “I’d like to hear about the concrete things that are being done to support this

new vision.”

I made a mental note to ask my next interviewees for some of the specifics

Williamson was looking for. He clicked away from the framework document and

searched for other documents related to the title Inspiring Education. We found a

website with the heading “What’s happening now?” related to the project and found a

list of projects that Alberta Education was currently engaged in to support Inspiring

Education. The following projects were listed:

376
Alberta Education, English Language Arts Grades 10 – 12 (2003), 2, http://education.alberta.ca
/media/645805/srhelapofs.pdf and Alberta Education, Social Studies Kindergarten toGrade 12 (2005), 5,
http://www.education.alberta.ca/media/773701/soc10.pdf .
 377

 A new Provincial Dual Credit Strategy – Creating opportunities for students to

earn both high school and post-secondary credits for the same course.

 Improvements to the provincial diploma exam – Providing students with

more flexibility in writing diploma exams through a digital format.

 A high school flexibility program – Empowering students to show learning

through mastery of the subject, rather than linking credits to the number of hours

at a desk.

 Review and replacement of the old Provincial Achievement Test –

Introducing student-friendly assessments to replace existing Provincial

Achievement Tests.

 The Education Act Regulatory Review – Regulations related to the new

Education Act will help provide students with the supports and environment

they’ll need to succeed. 377

We quickly agreed to bypass the Regulatory Review. Williamson had never

heard of it and we weren’t sure it was relevant. I hoped we weren’t wrong. “What do

you think of the rest of these? Will any of this benefit slow learners?” I asked.

“I think some of this stuff was already happening, even before it got absorbed

under Inspiring Education. But it’s still good. I like the dual credit strategy, especially

the ability to credit students for the college component of their training for the trades,”

Williamson noted. “Some of our K & E students really are strong hands-on learners

and have an aptitude for this sort of thing, so giving them opportunities to receive

trade school credit for advanced training in the areas they excel at during high school

honors their strengths and motivates them.” Then he tempered this by saying, “This is

377
Alberta Education, “Inspiring Education What’s Happening Now.” (2013) Inspiring Education and
Curriculum Redesign, http://education.alberta.ca/department/ipr/inspiringeducation/aspx (site
discontinued but reposted in) http://news.genius.com/Alberta-education-inspiring-education-albertas-
vision-for-education-annotated.
 378

great for students who excel in these areas, but it isn’t going to turn around the lives

of all the kids who struggle in their classes, or even all K & E students. Some of our

students who present as K & E level academically are also no better than I was in their

hands-on courses on campus.”

I remembered Williamson’s stories of his struggles with this sort of thing and

felt no need to ask for further explanation. “What about the changes to provincial tests

and diploma exams?” I asked, moving along to the second and fourth items on the list.

“It’s interesting that they scrapped the year end Provincial Achievement Tests

for grades three, six and nine students in their current form,” Williamson replied,

confirming my inference that these were the standardized tests administered to

younger students, “but I’d have to see what the new tests look like to know if they will

be any better. The old Provincial Achievement Tests were sometimes part of the scene

that discouraged slow learners before they even got to high school. Slow learners

would either achieve poorly on the exams or be exempt from taking them – which sent

the message they weren’t capable. And just like a lot of high school academic

instruction involves teaching to the test, I’m sure the Provincial Achievement Tests

sometimes resulted in this kind of thing in junior high and elementary school. I

remember that, in the consultations that took place when IOP was being rewritten, the

junior high school IOP teachers complained that it was unfair to force the students to

write a Provincial Achievement Test based on a curriculum they weren’t taking and it

was also potentially demeaning to exempt them. So to address these concerns, after a

while after the switch from IOP to K & E, the junior high K & E classes got their own

Provincial Achievement Tests.”378

378
Alberta Education, Information Manual for Knowledge and Employability, 11.
 379

“Or maybe the curriculum folks just thought if there weren’t standardized tests

for the new K & E courses then they had no legitimacy,” I suggested.

“I guess so. It was never really a big issue in my district because, around that

time, they completely phased out all of the junior high K & E classes. No K & E

classes, no need for a Provincial Achievement Test for that tier. The kids only start K &

E in high school now.”

I briefly wondered if the implications of this change went beyond what did or

didn’t happened with Provincial Achievement Tests in Williamson’s school district.

“But diploma exams,” continued Williamson, “might be the largest barrier to the

inclusion of slow learners in high school diploma level classes. It’s not about digital

versus paper format, they don’t need the exams in any format, period.”

I’d already heard these opinions expressed at length by Williamson and others

so I didn’t ask him to explain further. “What about this flexibility project?” I asked

Williamson.

“I don’t know much about that,” he admitted, clicking on a link. A black and

white summary in five short paragraphs popped up. It explained how the flexibility

project had, experimentally, eliminated a requirement that formerly applied to most of

the province’s schools. The stricken requirement was that students receive twenty-five

hours of face-to-face instruction with teachers for every high school credit earned. A

trial in sixteen schools in the province had apparently gone well enough that the time

per credit requirement was being loosened for all of the province’s high schools. When

the report on the initial trial was released the Minister of Education at the time had

made these comments:

This is Inspiring Education in action. We are rethinking and redesigning

high school to provide flexibility for students and teachers. Linking credits to
 380

the time a kid spends sitting in a desk is too prescriptive for some high

school students, especially those who don’t require the full 25 hours of face-

to-face instruction to master the curriculum.”379

Gord, one of the administrators I recently met, had complained about the hours

to credit policies also, but I still didn’t see the connection to this case. “I don’t

understand how this will help slow learners,” I commented. “If they learn slower, how

will the opportunity to move faster through curriculum be of much benefit?”

Williamson nodded in agreement. But then he got a thoughtful look in his eye.

“There might be something more to it than that,” he said. “Maybe we need to check

that out more thoroughly.”

We scrolled through a series of reports about the project. We came to an

explanation of the Carnegie Unit, the roots of the hours to credits concept that the

Flex Project was challenging. It was more or less the same information that Gord had

explained to me, except that it was specific to Alberta’s ratios.380

I saw that fate had rewarded the intention I’d made to follow up on the Carnegie

stuff by providing me with this detail, but I still wasn’t sure I saw the connection to

this case. “I don’t see the problem with this,” I said. “A public education system needs

some way of organizing what classes the students take, how much emphasis gets

placed on each subject, and how the students are measured on their learning. This

seems pretty logical, no wonder it’s lasted for as long as it has.” I didn’t fully believe

this – I’d actually switched careers from cop to shamus precisely to escape this sort of

379
Jeff Johnson in Alberta Government, “Flex approach to high school learning,” Announcements Alberta
Government (May 8, 2013), para. 3, http://alberta.ca/release.cfm?xID=341238504029D-A50B-79D1-
9FDDF8BE88D30867.
380
Gerry Fijal, High School Flexibility Enhancement Pilot Project 2010/2011 School Year (Edmonton:
Government of Alberta, 2011), 9, https://ideas.education.alberta.ca/media/63873/2010-2011year-
end_report.pdf.
 381

regimentation – but I thought I’d try this perspective out on Williamson to test his

views on the subject.

“According to this,” said Williamson, pointing to a paragraph further down in the

document, “the logic you are talking about is the exact problem.” He pointed to the

passage he was talking about.

[A}lthough intended as an organizational construct designed to manage

teaching inputs, the Carnegie Unit’s logic may have crept into teacher’s

beliefs about the nature of learning.381

The paragraph went on to describe how this form of organization implied a highly

standardized form of teaching and learning that was focused more on what teachers

did than what students did and more interested in numerical grades than student

engagement. A page below this passage listed several questions, three of which pulled

us up short.

How can teachers relinquish some of the control over time and pacing but still

adhere to their responsibilities to support student learning?

How do school practices such as streaming conflict with the ability of the

school to honour the learning goals of students?

What does success mean in school if all students are not following a

standardized path through their coursework? 382

I recalled Martin’s sentiments that the true teacher lets learn. “If pacing was

more personalized,” I asked suddenly seeing a possibility, “what would this even

do to the idea of a slow learner?”

Williamson and I paused to consider the weight of this question, and then we

began to discuss the implications of the project for the students who concerned us the

381
Ibid., 10.
382
Ibid., p. 12.
 382

most. As we read through the various ways the Flex Project had been implemented, we

realized that it was true that the Project offered the opportunity for some students to

move more quickly through their courses. But there seemed to be more to it than that.

Williamson said he disagreed with my earlier statement that this would be of no value

to the students we were representing just because these students were purported to

learn slowly.

“If work is being assigned not on the basis of personalized observation as to

how each student learns and what he or she requires to move forward, but to fill a

certain amount of instructional time, it might imply an attitude of rigidness in

assessment that is harmful to the students. It could mean asking every student to do

the same volume of work in a class no matter how quickly or slowly he or she works,

not so much to get them to an acceptable level but to fill the time. It might involve

giving all academic tasks in the class equal time instead of moving students more

quickly through content they are showing mastery of and taking more time with

content they are struggling with. Maybe this Project might challenge this kind of

rigidity,” Williamson speculated.

I thought he was done speaking, but after a short pause he piped up again.

“And what about when slowness isn’t really slowness at all but just a handle for other

problems? I have a student in my K & E English class right now who is repeating the

course for the third time even though she’s one of the best readers and writers of all of

our K & E students. She probably shouldn’t even be in courses at the K & E level, but

they kept dropping her levels due to school failure. She just can’t seem to get it

together to attend more than once or twice a week, probably the seven o’clock bus she

has to take from the reserve doesn’t help. Our counsellor and family support workers

are obviously trying to work with her and her family to get her to come to school more
 383

often, but in the meantime it seems like such a waste to repeatedly fail her just

because the course is stretched over a one hundred and twenty-five hour time frame

that she doesn’t seem to have the stamina for, especially when she entered the course

with most of the skills to pass it.”

“How might this be different under the Flex Project? I asked.

“Instead of marching her through one hundred and twenty-five hours of

content, I could just give her the assessments that meet the main outcomes of the

course on the days she showed up. Once she completed all of these, we could credit

her in the course, even if it was only after a few hours. Instead of watching her

repeatedly failing a course that is actually too easy for her, we could enable her to

prove she can do K & E English so at least she has credits in that. Maybe having these

credits in the bank would give her a little more confidence and we could begin to

assess her at a more challenging level of English when she shows up.”

“Doesn’t that strike you as just enabling her truancy?” I asked.

“Being forced to put that much time into a course she can already do, on top of

everything else she is dealing with, is a pretty good reason to want to avoid school

altogether. Her pattern has been to begin each new semester with good enthusiasm,

miss a few days, get behind, get discouraged, and end the semester by missing most

school days every week. The structure implied by the time requirement might be good

for some students, but it’s just boring and frustrating for her, she never feels like she’s

getting anywhere. At least this way we can make it count for something on the days

when she does show up, maybe even motivate her to attend more often because she

thinks she’s getting somewhere.”

Williamson then clicked back to the main page describing the Flex Project. He

paused on something called “credit recovery.” We read about it.

 384

Credit recovery – an opportunity for students to continue their progress in

a particular course beyond the scheduled semester, rather than awarding

them a failing grade and having them retake the course.383

“Whenever our K & E students, or any students, fail a course,” said Williamson,

“it’s back to square one. All of the work they did, all of the outcomes they met, just

gets thrown away and they have to repeat what they did already, as well as complete

everything they didn’t get to. This is pretty wasteful and discouraging too. Credit

recovery looks like it allows them to pick up where they left off in a course.”

A suspicious thought came to me. The strategies Williamson was talking about

didn’t sound like they’d come out of nowhere or had never been tried before. “Would

you even really need the Flex Project to do all these things?” I asked.

“Probably not,” said Williamson after considering my question. “There are

already all kinds of ways students can challenge courses, or take classes that are not

strictly tied to the time requirement. There are schools where most of the learning

students do is self-guided, so it would be impossible to measure how long students

were actually spending being instructed. And there are on-line courses and old-

fashioned pen and paper correspondence courses which must be exempt from time

requirements too. And credit recovery probably doesn’t even violate the time

requirement at all; it just means that some students who come up short in a course

get to continue instruction beyond the end date instead of starting over.”

“Maybe it’s more symbolic then,” I suggested. “Like a ritual sacrifice. Even

though much this stuff was already possible, something has to go for educators to feel

that they have permission to free their minds. Someone has to kill time, and not in the

way that we usually mean that phrase.”

383
Alberta Education, “High School Flexibility Enhancement Pilot,” Alberta Education (2011), para. 6,
http://ideas.education.alberta.ca/hsc/current-projects/flexibility-enhancement-pilot/.
 385

“If you killed time,” I then asked, “what would happen to slow?” We

contemplated this as a strike in one lane and a gutter ball in the next sounded off in

the distance.

Another question came to me. “Is there any indication that students were more

successful in the schools that experimented with the Flex Project?”

Williamson tried to look this up. “So far it hasn’t dramatically changed the

dropout rates in those schools, or dramatically improved how students did on diploma

testing, but I think it’s still pretty early. It’s hard to tell how deeply flex got worked into

the culture of these schools. One thing it appears to have done in all the schools is

improve student’s intellectual engagement, at least how engaged students report they

are on annual surveys. On average in Canada, only forty-four percent of students feel

intellectually engaged in school.”384

“That’s depressing,” I remarked.

“Yes it is. But, over the three years of the Flex Project in the experimental

schools, intellectual engagement rose almost seven percent. And look at this.” With

that Williamson pointed to another paragraph that reported qualitative data:

Principals and teachers have reported a much more purposeful atmosphere

in their schools and a reduction in disciplinary issues. It is noteworthy that

many principals, teachers and students have reported that there is a sense

of calm in their school; that overall their schools seems less “stressed–out”

and “frantic”. Time is available to all stakeholders to approach learning in a

384
Gerry Fijal, High School Flexibility Enhancement Pilot Project-A Summary Report (Edmonton:
Alberta Government, 2013),13, https://ideas.education.alberta.ca/media
/78910/hsepp_report_2013final.pdf.
 386

manner that suits them best and is most responsive to the natural “ebb and

flow” of the school year.385

“What does that mean for slow learners?” I asked.

“Maybe it’s easier to persevere with work you find difficult when you are

intellectually engaged, or maybe it’s easier to become intellectually engaged in the

work when the learning experience is more flexible and personalized,” Williamson

offered.

“Beyond the hypothetical opportunities you’ve identified for K & E students,

how do we know if this was even applied to K & E kids specifically in the trial

schools?” I asked. “Maybe they’re just trying all these innovations out on the high

fliers, the more academic students.”

“Or maybe they’re using K & E students as guinea pigs because they are an

obscure population who don’t write diploma exams. I can see K & E kids being

considered perfect subjects to test this on, with minimal perceived risk,” Williamson

countered. He was beginning to sound excited.

We searched one of the documents for K & E. As it happened, two of the schools

who had trialed the Flex Project had directly involved K & E classes in the

experimentation. Williamson also thought it was likely that K & E classes, or K & E

students included in blended classes, were included in overarching projects in blended

schools. One such project involved bundled humanities classes – English and Social

Studies taught as one humanities class – with thematic considerations and the like,

no time requirements for either subject dictating what was emphasized, academically,

on any given day.

“What do you think of the combined humanities classes?” I asked Williamson.

385
Ibid., 7.
 387

“Overlap might be a good thing,” he suggested. “If a K & E student has trouble

mastering a specific competency, it might help them not to have to do rushed and poor

variations of tasks related to that competency for three different classes when they can

be given the time to do it well, once, in a bundled class. And some of the themes in the

novels you study in English could often be easily applied to Social Studies, just as the

skills of explicating a position you use in writing opinion pieces in Social Studies are

the same as those required for persuasive writing in English.”

“And wasn’t the point of the Integrated Occupational Program, before it became

Knowledge and Employability, to integrate the academic disciplines not only with each

other but with the occupational components of the program?” I asked, now seeing a

further possibility of the Flex Project.

Williamson nodded.

“This chart is still pretty low on detail,” I said, referring to the list of Flex

Projects we were looking at. “Can you find out more specifically where all the trial

projects happened, and how they all went over three years?”

Williamson pressed some keys but then looked at me apologetically as his

laptop had shut off. He told me it was his school laptop and though the batteries had

been losing their capacity for several months, he could not ask for replacements until

they were completely exhausted.

I noticed the last set of players leaving the bowling alley. I looked at my watch.

The place was closing in ten minutes. I told Williamson I thought it was time to go and

we got up from the table and began to head out. On an impulse, before the manager

could complain that I was still in my street shoes, I grabbed a ball and attempted a

throw. I play infrequently and poorly but I threw a strike nevertheless. I would have

taken this as good tidings for the case except that the leg injury that had begun to
 388

heal so nicely tweaked angrily from my exertion and continued to hurt as we walked to

my car. I drove Williamson home and dropped him off. I drove to a pay lot a block

away from my hotel instead of the hotel lot, not wanting to make it too easy for the tail

to find me again.

Back in my room, I poured two fingers of bourbon in the smudgy glass and sat

on my bed and stared at my visualized circle on the end table, adding the things I’d

learned in the bowling alley. I felt I was close to something. The abandonment of Action

on Inclusion, the superficial diversity video, the failure of the Inspiring Education

document we read to comprehensively address issues related to disability and

diversity, and what I suspected would be the continuing problems with K & E, all

suggested to me that slow learners were still at-risk. I saw this all clearly enough, but I

still worried that I didn’t completely have a handle on the larger dangers slow learners

faced. These dangers had often seemed to come out of nowhere on this case, so I was

still looking for some clear advice to give my client about how to keep slow learners

safer in schools. On the other hand, I saw promise in the initiatives Williamson and I

had looked into. Again, however, I had a strong feeling there were important things

about this aspect of the case I was missing. If these new initiatives held some

possibility of greater justice, the larger vision of what this looked like still eluded me. I

felt closer but not close enough.

At least I had a better idea of the questions I needed to ask the informants

Summit had recommended to me, I thought. Maybe that was enough for the night. I

sent myself to bed, exhausted, but I slept lightly, like a spider might. I always do when

I feel a case coming together.

 389

XXXII

I awoke early, feeling not so much refreshed as excited. The picture was still

hazy, but I somehow felt closer than I’d ever been to discovering what justice for slow

learners looked like. I dressed, choosing the second pair of beige pants Williamson had

lent me, and a blue sweater. I looked so bland I thought I might disappear completely.

I brought my first coffee of the day down to the hotel’s business office. A further

breach of the hotel’s rules was required as the office wasn’t open yet. While a balding

overnight clerk faded in and out of sleep, his head bobbling up and down like those

novelty dolls, I loided the door with my almost maxed-out credit card. I booted up the

old beast again and fed it some coins. On the Department of Education site I searched

under contacts for the names Summit had given me. I cursed my luck when the first

name generated no hits; perhaps that person had gone back to classroom teaching

and now worked in some far flung school district. I had better luck with the second

name. It appeared from the website that she had a different job in the curriculum

area, but at least she still worked for the ministry and I figured she must have

switched positions pretty recently and probably still knew a lot. I did some further

searches on her name and discovered she was a frequent user of social media. On her

public page she’d commented on developments in education, world news and

entertainment. What interested me more was that she’d also described the interesting

conversations she’d had on public transit and the refreshing winter walks through

downtown she’d been enjoying as she made her way from the train station to the

nearby Department of Education office. Her New Year’s resolution, she wrote, was to

be more ecological, slow down her busy life a bit, and build some exercise time into

her day by taking the train to work. She was even getting off the train few a stops early

to lengthen her walk. Chronicling how much serenity this was all bringing, her she’d
 390

posted a few pictures of frosty trees and icicles hanging decoratively off city lights. I

could see she had a good eye for this type of thing even though, with all my recent

experiences on this case, I was less than enamored with winter wonderland pictures.

Aside from this aesthetic difference, I appreciated all her posting. I didn’t want lose

momentum by waiting to schedule an appointment with her, and she’d provided more

than enough detail in her posts to triangulate her location as she began her morning

walk. I drove downtown, parked at an expensive lot near where I thought I would be

able to catch her, and walked to the station. My much-abused leg didn’t appreciate the

walk and neither did the rest of me. It was a little warmer out again but still too cold

for me. At the best of times, I viewed walking not as a form of recreation but as a

necessary evil, a regrettable body function, and this wasn’t the best of times.

At 8:00 a.m., the woman I recognized from her picture as Yolanda Grant exited

the transit platform. She was wearing a smart red wool overcoat that I didn’t think

looked warm enough, but she wasn’t shivering. She had grippy-looking winter boots

on and carried a briefcase that I assumed held dressier work shoes, along with her

other supplies. She wore her hair straight and just past her shoulders and, when a

fellow passenger deferred the single safe walking lane to her on an icy patch of

sidewalk, she wore a wide appreciative smile too.

“Ms. Grant!” I called approaching her. “Can I ask you a couple of question

about slow learners?” Her smile vanished as I made the distance between us,

holding up my detective’s licence as I did. “I’m Max Hunter. I’ve been hired by a

client who is worried about these students.”

“We don’t really use that phrase much where I work. How do you think I

can help you?” she asked. She seemed vexed at this sudden intrusion on her

morning walk.
 391

“You’ve worked in K & E recently; I have some questions about the classes

and the students in them. As I said, my client is worried about them.”

“Why is he worried?” she asked.

This was my one shot to interest her in the conversation; I had to come up

with something concise and practical. “A lot of kids struggle in school, a lot of

kids have low average IQs, whatever that data means, and there are classes

designed for these students. So why do less than one percent of Alberta’s

students graduate with the K & E certificate?”

She considered this for a second and then sighed. She told me she was

still several blocks from the Education Building,386 which I knew but didn’t own

up to knowing, and that I could walk and talk with her. I wasn’t eager for more

walking but it sounded like my only chance.

She was a rather fast walker for someone who taken up the hobby in order

to slow things down. It took considerable effort to keep up while regulating my

breathing enough to carry on a conversation. After we’d covered some ground she

said, “You’ve probably heard that the fact that it ends with a certificate instead of

diploma is one of the main problems with K & E. If employers and post-

secondary institutes have heard of the certificate at all they tend not to value it.

Students don’t see the value in working towards it.”

“How has the Department of Education responded to this problem?” I

asked.

“I don’t work in K & E anymore,” she told me, and I tried to affect a slight look

of surprise, “but I do know that how high school students are certified is under

386
Ministry office moved from Edmonton to Calgary for plot convenience.
 392

discussion, that there’s been some talk of including K & E students into the diploma

proper.”

That was interesting but a little vague. I asked, “Can you tell me anything

more about that?”

“No, not at this point.” She seemed pretty firm on that. There must have

been some rule she was following about keeping mum on the ideas that were

being floated about this. Too bad. Still, I thought this kind of secrecy probably

rubbed someone as chatty as she’d appeared to be on social media the wrong

way. Other than maybe the very most confidential stuff, I could probably find out

a lot from her if I kept asking questions.

We came to an intersection and the light was against us. I said, “My client

is really worried. He doesn’t think K & E as it stands is doing enough for these

students and he also says it’s getting worse. Numbers are so low a lot of schools

are cutting K & E programming.” Then I asked her, “Is there anything else going

on in the Department that you can tell me about that you think might support K

& E, or as my client has said, help slow learners?” Nothing wrong with a little

guilt trip, I figured.

“There’s an initiative called Inspiring Education,” she said. “The whole idea

behind it is to make things more flexible, inclusive, inquiry-based and learner-

centered. It’s to be based on competencies without rigid rules about how

students have to show them.”

I chose not to reveal that I’d already been reading up on this with

Williamson. Instead, remembering the complaints of ongoing systematic rigidity

I’d heard from many of the teachers I talked to, I commented, “That sounds great

but would it even be possible under the current system?”

 393

“Not fully. The changes will have to go deep to bring this about.

Curriculum will have to get a lot …” she paused, searching for the right word,

eventually settling on “skinnier.”

“Don’t know what you mean,” I admitted.

“You know. Based on the most essential competencies for a subject

instead of a four–inch binder full of content teachers are required to march the

students through at all costs,” she replied.

“How will that help K & E students or slow learners?” I asked.

“Take writing. I taught IOP for many years before I started working here

and most of the students I taught struggled with writing. If I got a strong ten-

sentence paragraph from a student by the end of a K & E class I would be

thrilled. Not because I was ‘dumbing it down’,” she stuck up some finger quotes

for that one, “but because they were meeting the outcomes. It’s nice if they can

write more than that, but if you really look at what they’re supposed to be able to

do, that should get them through. Anything that supports the teacher in making

these kinds of assessments is what the kids need.”

That sounded fine to me, but then I remembered my own English teacher

from high school, less forgiving than a sadistic loan shark. I thought also of the

diploma exams that almost all the teachers I’d met had complained about. Would

a single paragraph be enough to pass the writing component of one of those?

“Would it be possible,” I asked, “to set things up so everyone has this

understanding of assessment?”

“I hope so, but, “she paused, considering how much to tell me, “I’m not

sure. These kinds of changes can be pricey, at least at first. Keep watching the

provincial budgets.” I didn’t understand how making a change to assessment

 394

practices like the one she was describing would be that expensive but I kept

quiet on that count.

“Speaking of the budget, I’ve heard K & E is pretty under-resourced,” I

commented instead, moving to another topic.

“I can’t get too far into that,” she said cautiously. Then sighed and said,

“But you’d be amazed at how little has been allocated to develop resources for K

& E. We’ve tried anyway, but it’s minimal. They’re probably the least resourced

students in the province in terms of curricular materials.”

This admission from Yolanda Grant was a little more candid. I felt I was

making some progress, which was good. On the other hand, the last exchange

had bothered her, and she was the sort who walked faster when troubled, so I

had to work even harder to keep up. I was grateful when we came to another set

of lights and had to wait. Catching my breath, I asked another question. “What

else did you try to do, or do you think needs to be done to make more space for K

& E students?”

“Flip it,” she said, and she stepped to the side to make room for a pack of

excitedly talking adolescents rounding the corner and heading the down the

same sidewalk we’d just come from. A boy of maybe thirteen in the group noticed

and thanked her, his voice squeaking a little.

“Come again?” I asked.

“In Alberta, it practically seems like course design starts at the PhD level

and works down. I mean, a lot of the time when curriculum is written they design

it with the most academic kids in mind and then keep trying to water it down to

more basic levels. This almost automatically insults the less academic students

and it might not even work. There’s a risk that whatever simplifications are
 395

introduced to make the content more accessible might still fail to do this. The

worst part, though, is after the ‘dumbing down’ of curriculum for the next lower

instructional tier, they eventually get tired and give up or simply forget before

they even get a chance to think of the needs of K & E students. Instead of

designing curriculum for the high-end kids and then ‘dumbing it down’ we

should start at the K & E level first. If we started with the outcomes that were

most important for every student to meet, no matter how much they struggled in

that content area, and then built in additional challenges for the more academic

students, no one would be left behind.”

I thought about that for a minute, found it sensible, and remarked, “If it

worked that way, it does seem unlikely they’d forget to build up to the ‘cream of

the crop’ students.” She nodded in agreement. Now that she was speaking a bit

more freely this was becoming an instructive stroll for me.

The walk sign lit up and beeped and we resumed our journey. After a

minute, Yolanda Grant confided, “As a provincial person, I always worried that,

because so few students are enrolled in K & E that the kids are being left off on

their own, off in the corner while the class is doing the main activity. Teachers

don’t know what to do with them. K & E was supposed to provide an opportunity

– a sanction – to scaffold. The purpose of providing this instructional level was to

support student learning.”

I didn’t really know what she meant by scaffolding. I imagined some

builders standing on temporary structures and installing some windows on a

high rise. I wasn’t sure what this had to do with teaching. I asked her to explain

herself.
 396

“Well, say the kids are engaged in a larger project-type of assignment,” she

began. “The idea might be for students to end up with a similar type of product

at the end, but every student doesn’t have to complete all the same steps or

produce all the same parts or do all the work completely independently.

Requirements as to what steps of the projects the students complete and for the

pieces of evidence of learning they have to submit for marking along the way can

be different between K & E and other levels of classes. But kids can still feel part

of the same process.”

“Would the more advanced students be required to show higher level

thinking?” I asked. I knew by now that the psychological literature claimed that

the more abstract the reasoning task, the more a slow learner would struggle

with it. I no longer believed it was as simple as this, but I still found it helpful to

speak from this perspective when asking that particular question.

“That’s one way of looking at it,” she replied. “Imagine I am writing chapter

review questions for a textbook. If I am on page ten and I am asking a question

about something that can be found on that page everyone should be able to

answer it because it’s right there. Maybe these questions could be marked with a

check mark as mandatory for every student. If I am in K & E, everywhere I see a

check mark I know I should be able to answer those questions. The next level up

is marked with some other symbol, maybe a circle. These will involve more

critical thinking. And, now if I am the teacher of that class I know I either need to

highly support students in doing this or, in some cases, not assign those parts.

And maybe the next part is marked research questions – rectangles. Everybody

in the class is going to answer the questions marked with the check marks. The

rest will get assigned depending on context, some might be supplementary.”

 397

I thought that sounded like a good way to make things more concrete and

achievable for slow learners, but also a little bit elitist in the assumption that

they would struggle with the deeper questions. Not to mention that it might be a

little boring for them to always be asked to sniff out all the facts without ever

being asked to consider their deeper meaning.

My fleet-of-foot informant seemed to read my mind and continued. “But

Bloom’s taxonomy …” She realized this too might sound like jargon to me and

explained to me it was a hierarchy of levels of abstraction used to guide

educators in questioning for student learning.387 Knowledge and comprehension

were the bottom two levels of the pyramid, synthesis and evaluation the highest

two. She continued, “Bloom’s taxonomy doesn’t need to be quite as linear as the

pyramid that explains it suggests. K & E students can still do synthesis if they

are properly supported. If you ask a student, ‘Why did they expropriate the

funds?’ versus ‘Why did they take the money?’ it’s still a synthesis question, just

one that is fair for the student. If K & E students have the right kinds of

scaffolding and support, then they can get to the critical thinking. Eventually

they even start to build their own structures, find their own ways of figuring

things out.”

We dodged around another ice slick. I asked, “Are accommodations a part

of scaffolding too? I’ve heard K & E students have trouble accessing

accommodations sometimes.”

“That’s because it’s too formalized and reactive,” she replied. “Every time I

put an exam in front of any kid, it should be designed to have those

accommodations options, just like it’s built into Microsoft Word to be able to get

387
Benjamin S. Bloom, Taxonomy of Educational Objectives (Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1984), 35 – 37.
 398

the program to read out loud to you or to dictate out loud to the program, no

matter who you are. The first time you design something to be accessible it’s

more expensive and time-consuming, but then it’s done. Why couldn’t an exam a

student was writing on computer – which is an increasingly popular mode of

administering tests these days – have a built in auditory feature to read it out

loud? If I am talking to the class as a teacher, I’m likely doing a visual on the

board along with auditory explanation so that students can be more engaged. A

test should be like that. The whole point of accommodations, which is what the

inclusive education people are trying to get everyone to understand, is that

accommodations should not be for some – they should be for all. That’s called

Universal Design for Learning – UDL,388 you’ve heard of it?”

I said I had. At least I thought I’d seen the phrase somewhere in my

investigation. I liked the simple goal those four words expressed, but thought

that getting there might be significantly more complex.

“Ideally,” Yolanda Grant continued, “planning is bringing those two worlds

together, UDL and scaffolding. It’s more expensive, you have to muck around

with it, but once you’ve done it, you have that template.”

With all this talk of projects and templates, it sounded to me that, in her

thinking, a lot had to be decided and planned in advance in order to make things

inclusive for slow learners. Like an on-line Social Studies course with all the readings

and assignments already posted from the very first day. I wondered if there was a way

388
, Alberta Education has defined UDL as follows: “An educational approach that aims to increase access
to learning for all students by reducing physical, cognitive, intellectual, organizational and other barriers
… UDL is based on the concept of universal design in architecture, which proposes that designing for the
divergent needs of special populations increases usability for everyone. A classic example is the sidewalk
curb cut. Although it was originally created to allow wheelchairs to move more freely between roads and
sidewalks, an unintended consequence was that other people, including parents with strollers, cyclists and
people with shopping carts, also found it easier to move from the sidewalk to the street.” Alberta
Education, Making a Difference, 10
 399

to be more spontaneous while still being inclusive. I thought I might try to figure this

out for myself. I knew the Education Building was maybe only a block or so ahead and

I only had time for maybe two or three more questions.

I went with one that had been bugging me for quite a while. “What’s better for K

& E students? Is it to be in blended classes with other levels of students or in separate

classes?”

“I don’t think that’s a useful question really,” she replied. I felt faintly chastised

by this, but I looked at her face and I could see from the thoughtful expression she

had no rancor in saying it. “The milieu in each district, each school even, are different.

I always just tried to provide the best resources – so teachers with blended and

teachers with discrete K & E classes – could be supported.”

“Do you think education could ever get so inclusive there would no longer be a

need for K & E?” I asked. I’d asked something similar of Colleen Birdseye.

She thought for a second and then replied, “Yes, I do actually. But it would take

more money, support and flexibility. Alberta Education would have to restructure

many things. Sorry to repeat myself but assessment might be the most important. The

way we often do assessment now couldn’t be done in a truly inclusive, Inspiring

Education-type classroom. Students need choice, assistance, flexibility and second

chances.”

We were at her destination. The tall grey Department of Education Building,

that I hoped had more personality on the inside, stood right in front of us. She

considered the icy set of stairs leading up to it, but opted for a long ramp up instead. I

don’t know if it was because it looked safer or because it offered a little bit more of one

of her favorite things – walking. As she was about to ascend, I asked if I could pose
 400

one last question. She nodded. I asked, “What is the one thing that has to happen so

that slow learners or K & E students don’t disappear so regularly?”

She thought for a second and said, “The students need to feel safe and involved.

When they feel school is that place – where they are getting something that will

sustain them – then they’ll get to the finish line more often.” With the finish line

analogy I heard an echo of what former Education Minister Jim Dinning had said

regarding the IOP certificate, about school being a foot race. But unlike his claim that

it was perfectly natural that some kids run like hell and never get to the finish, she

thought that working to support the students all the way to the finish line was

worthwhile.

I was getting ready to thank her but then she added to her answer, “And

authentic context. The students need to look out into the world say that’s something

that I will need to do or that is relevant to me. We teachers might have the greatest

goals but we’re already educated, more or less, we need to get the kids to buy in.”

I thanked her for her time and she said I was welcome. Then she took a couple

of steps onto the ramp leading up to the building and turned back again. With all

these encores I was beginning to feel like I was at a James Brown concert and an

entourage member might be required to drape a cape over her and drag her in to the

building. She said, “And we need to quit trying to be so prophetic about what various

levels kids will be able to do. They’re all kids. Their frontal lobes are still developing.

Give them a break.” She waved goodbye and shrank from my vantage point as she

ascended the long ramp into the building, eventually entering. It took me a minute to

wrap my head around all her “one last things.”

I looked up at the winter sunrise shining down on the many stories of the

education building and considered the interview. Whatever complaints Williamson and
 401

many of my informants had about the curriculum branch, here was a professional,

who’d recently worked in K & E, who spoke passionately and optimistically about what

inclusion for these students could look like. She’d owned up to the larger department’s

underfunding of K & E, which wasn’t a solution but was at least a useful admission. It

was the sort of admission that made me think there might still be like-minded

advocates for K & E students here in these offices constantly pushing for more

resources. She’d given concrete examples of how instruction could be made fair and

accessible for slow learners in classrooms, even if some of these ideas were a little on

the technical side. She’d confirmed some of Williamson’s hunches about the inclusive

possibilities of Inspiring Education including the need to rethink entire courses to

realize these ambitions. I asked myself if that was enough, if I’d finally found enough

justice to tell Williamson that slow learners were likely safe.

I sat down at a nearby bus bench to rest my leg and think for a bit before the

walk back to the Buick. I considered the phrase Inspiring Education, especially the

first word. “Who have I found inspiring during this investigation?” I asked myself. I

started to list them in my head. The department insider I’d just met, who saw the need

to better support these students and who had done her best to look out for them was.

So too was Colleen Birdseye’s determined, empathetic practicality. So were the

administrators I met at Ultimate Brew, both trying to wrap their heads around

inclusively supporting all the students they worked with, including slow learners. I

was inspired by the class of K & E students I met; a diverse group of students, some of

whom were supposed to learn even slower than slow learners and all of whom seemed

willing and able to learn given just conditions. My client, Williamson, was an

annoying, often confused worrywart, but the work that he was trying to do in his

learning centre seemed pretty inspiring at times. Looking back, the IOP guru, Summit,
 402

in his efforts to create an educational oasis for a struggling group of learners, was

inspiring. Despite my distaste for the exclusionary language, and some of the openly

stated negative assumptions about slow learners I had to admit that aspects of the

vocational programs going back forty to eighty to a hundred years were inspiring in

some ways – some educators had from very early on seen the flaws in the ‘one size fits

all’ academic program offered and thought and worked hard to provide an alternative.

All of this inspiration began, ironically, to depress me. If I couldn’t think of a

time in the last several decades that didn’t have inspirational educators working to

engage slow learners, how could I be so sure that the current batch of inspirational

educators would have any more success than anyone else, especially under the regime

of diminishing resources Yolanda Grand had described? Would someone finally make

some improvements to K & E that would see more than the current one percent of

Alberta’s students complete high school with the K & E Certificate, or would the new

programs of study become so inclusive that K & E was rendered obsolete, in a good

way? Did I truly feel any change was on the horizon that was so inclusive that

students would stop appearing as slow learners? I could maybe tell Williamson I’d

found some evidence of justice for slow learners, but could I tell him, truthfully, that

any sort of comprehensive plan to treat these students more justly was in the works?

I thought then of Michel’s word’s “everything is dangerous” and of what Martin

and Hans had tried to explain to me about the concealing / unconcealing of truth. I

realized I might be neglecting the immediate in trying to take such a long view. My

suspicion was quickly confirmed. My peripheral vision registered something black

coming at me with devastating speed and power. It hit me thunderously on the ear.

Connoisseur that I am, I registered earthy notes of leather and the hearty finish of

buckshot. I lost my equilibrium and fell off the bench and onto the icy sidewalk. I saw
 403

a hazy blue-clad figure swinging at me again and raised my arm to block, but my

perspective was off and I took another shot in the same spot and then another on the

temple. “This sap has been sapped,” I thought. It wasn’t very funny, but I heard

sardonic laughter and realized it was my own. Then I didn’t hear anything for some

time.
 404

XXXIII

When I regained consciousness, all I could hear was bad music: humming,

whirring, squeaking, ringing, and a steady throbbing. The ringing, I realized, was in

my ears. The throbbing was in the back of my head. When my eyes got their focus

back, I traced the rest of the noise to behind a closed door along the far wall from the

small room I found myself in. Despite the slight visual relief the door provided, it was

the plainest room I’d ever been in. Cold light came off a single fluorescent fixture

overhead. The walls, floor, and table (which I could have been resting my arms on were

they not tied behind me) were all different off-white shades. None of them were the

least bit warming, organic, or chosen for any apparent purpose save for starkness and

expedience. I was sitting in a plastic chair. A plastic zip tie was biting into my wrist.

Like so many of the educators I met, I thought, I could have been doing a lot more for

slow learners if my hands weren’t tied.

Across from me sat a man I’d seen before in a greasy spoon restaurant. He was

wearing the same grey suit with the sharp creases. He was bald, pale, thin, and looked

neither young nor old. He regarded me with the steely-eyed gaze he’d surveyed me

with several days ago, except this time I thought he was using this gaze for effect

instead of concealing it. I demanded that he release me and began to say that my

client was expecting me back with instructions to call the police should I not return by

the afternoon. I was inwardly embarrassed trying this play, but could think of no

other.

The bluff that never even worked in the movies didn’t work this time either. He

held up his hand before I could even get it all out. “Don’t waste my time, Mr. Hunter.

There were no outgoing calls from your room at the hotel, and we’ve been observing

your solitary patterns since it first came to our attention that you’d undertaken this
 405

foolish quest. Your client is likely working away in his learning centre oblivious to your

whereabouts.”

I had nothing to offer in reply.

My most recent captor spoke again. “Besides, if you handle this situation

correctly you will be released in short order. You are to return to your client and tell

him that despite his concerns, the slow learners are safer now than they’ve ever been.

Then you are to return to the West Coast and never speak of this case again. Not only

will you and your client remain unharmed, you will be well-compensated. Once you

have fulfilled these requirements, you will receive a wire transfer well beyond your

usual fees, or imagining. If you refuse …” He left that one hanging.

“That’s a tempting offer, I mean the first one,” I remarked, and it was, “but why

is it necessary? What threat do I pose for you? All I am doing is looking for justice for

slow learners. How is that a threat?”

“You have been interfering with the smooth operation of things and

undermining the careful progress this system is seeking to make,” said the grey-suited

man. “Within prudent guidelines, and in recognition of sensible restraints, the

educational system is always trying to move toward a higher standard. Your critique is

disrupting this orderly process. It is a foolish and selfish quest.”

I was having trouble believing this guy. Maybe it was the careful way he was

talking, maybe it was because he’d had me sapped and restrained. Remembering what

Hans had told me about being more hermeneutic, more open to the possibility of the

other’s intelligibility (or at least that was as far as I was willing to take it) I reminded

myself to keep talking and thinking calmly and not to resort as quickly to insulting

him as I’d done with Maddox Paine.

 406

“Some might say this process needs all the help it can get,” I remarked. “As far

as I can tell, none of the reforms have addressed the concern that you have an

underfunded, undersubscribed series of classes intended for students who cannot

handle the high school diploma stream of instruction and, despite this program being

on the books, an overall dropout rate of around twenty percent. This needs to be

addressed.” Then, figuring ‘Why Not?’ I added. “And I’m not sure I can accept your

kind offer until I am convinced that it will be.”

He glanced at a digital wristwatch and sighed. “It is regrettable that our dropout

rate is that high. But efforts are being made. You have seen the changes to special

education funding. School districts can now choose how best to apply the resources, it

is no longer tied to a small group of students with disabilities. If school districts

determine that the needs of certain categories of students are not being met, they have

the flexibility to use their diversity funding to address this. Also, K & E courses

continue to be funded at a higher rate.”

“But from what I can tell none of this is helping,” I objected. “Many districts are

closing K & E schools and collapsing discrete K & E classes.”

“Good,” he replied. “With such low enrolments these sorts of discrete

interventions are very inefficient. And they run counter to our priorities for inclusive

education.”

“Some feel this way about separate K & E classes,” I admitted. “But if blended is

the tacitly preferred model what is being done to support it?”

“As I said, schools can choose how to use their diverse learning funding.

Supporting slow learners in blended classes could be one way. Inclusive education

funding has also been increased by two percent. They’ve cut or frozen budgets in other

areas of education to allow for this. ”

 407

“Couldn’t that be seen as a sort of a shell game?” I argued, still keeping an even

tone. “If the whole point of inclusive education is the inclusion of students in the

school proper, isn’t taking resources from other areas in order to support it still

harmful?”

The grey-suited man’s voice took on a somewhat sharper edge as he replied,

“There is no more money available. The Minister of Education has said ‘the fiscal

reality is that many school districts will see fewer operating dollars this year compared

to last year and we will all need to work together to make sure that kids are not

impacted in a negative way”.389

“But how are schools supposed to reach more struggling students with fewer

resources?” I asked.

He glanced at his watch again. I was beginning to feel that this conversation

was on some sort of schedule. Then he replied, “My concerns are only with priorities

and efficiencies within the system, not the larger provincial education budget. On the

former count, you remember that one of the reasons for the special education reforms

was that the emphasis on diagnoses and specialists hindered a lot of the funds from

going directly to the student.”

I had to concede that point. But I was curious how far he was willing to take

that logic. I asked, “If including more efficiently is the goal, why even have K & E, why

not make things more accessible for slow learners in the high school diploma stream?

Get rid of diploma exams, they are a major expense after all,390 or at least open up a

pathway to a high school diploma that doesn’t require the writing of diploma exams.”

389
Jeff Johnson in Government of Alberta, “Building Alberta: Budget 2013 keeps the focus on students,”
Announcements Alberta Government, (March 7, 2013), para. 2. http://alberta.ca/
release.cfm?xID=3378046B3A890-A09D-D222-DB9B59897D97B1AF.
390
Dave Hancock, “Are Diploma Exams Fair to Students?” Speak Out: Student Engagement Initiative.
(May 5, 2010), http://www.speakout.alberta.ca/Blog/tabid/59/EntryID/423/Default.aspx. Hancock, the
 408

“That would mean sacrificing the rigor of the high school program of studies for

the sake of a handful of students,” he replied. “Diploma exams are money well spent.

They hold districts, schools, teachers and students accountable. They push the

system towards excellence. With their high stakes and high visibility, they prevent the

work of teaching and learning and those engaged in it from becoming slothful and

complacent. As the most important thinker about institutional efficiency the last

century produced, Frederick Winslow Taylor, correctly noted many years ago, workers,

meaning teachers and students, are wont to take it easy and underperform when

leadership fails to provide accountability measures such as this.”391

I found this a warped view. I thought he was drinking from the same rancid

stream Goddard, Terman, and the other eugenicists were when proposing that even in

a democracy only an elite few were really fit to rule. I found it ridiculous to suggest

that, without a strict external measure like this, students and teachers would

collectively fall into indolence. I didn’t say any of this, though. I suspected instead that

he would go out of his way to claim this system was a fair one, so I tried to tackle him

on this point. “But many students struggle with these exams,” I objected. “Not just K

& E students, students with disabilities and English Language Learners too.”

He quickly replied, “And there is a fair and efficient system of accommodation to

level the playing field for them.”

I was ready for that and noted, “From what I can tell, the accommodations

policies are better than nothing, but fall well short of levelling the playing field. The

exams don’t set students up very well to do their best work, especially students whose

learning needs appear as more complex.”

education minister at the time wrote that the province spends about $10.5 million on administering
diploma exams.
391
Frederick Winslow Taylor, The Principles of Scientific Management (New York: Harper and Brothers,
1919), 54.
 409

He sighed and looked at his watch again. “The exams are not supposed to bring

out the best in students, they are intended to provide an environment where the

students provide representative samples of what they are capable of. Accommodations

are not intended to optimize performance. 392 Accountability needs to be based on

representative samples of work, not rising to the occasion. Upon analysis of these

representative samples, the appropriate managers will determine what more needs to

be asked of teachers and students in order to make the work of learning more

productive and efficient. This is how you push a system towards excellence.”

His answer was noxious to me, but it had a certain thoroughness that seemed

to discourage further questioning. I went back to the idea of fairness. “The

accommodations policies regularly exclude slow learners from accommodation.”

“I thought Veronika Sternwood explained this to you. Some students have

legitimate, measurable, scientifically verifiable disabilities and, for the sake of fairness,

should qualify for accommodation. If students do not meet the criteria for disability,

however, then accommodating them is a threat to the validity of the exams,” he said.

“We cannot grant unfair advantage. It is expected, after all, that only eighty-five

percent of students will test within the acceptable range on these exams. Anything

higher than that would be a sign the exams were starting to lack rigor. I applaud these

slow learning students for their ambition in wanting to take on the diploma tier, but

given their functioning levels, it is likely that some slow learners who opt for this

higher stream of instruction will fall within the fifteen percent who do not meet the

standard. K & E remains on the books for students who are unable to complete the

diploma.”

392
Alberta Education, “Diploma Exam Accommodations,” General Information Bulletin, 1.
 410

But K & E is a poorly funded series of classes that leads to a credential that

nobody wants,” I objected. “How is that inclusion? How is that equity?”

My captor took another look at his watch and replied, “They are guaranteed

equality of choice, not outcome. Students can choose whether or not to go into K & E.

They have equal opportunity to choose the diploma stream.”

I ignored my perception that this was all becoming dangerously circular and

focused instead on exploring the new value that had just revealed itself. “But if the

diploma stream is indifferent to the learning needs of many slow learners, how is that

any kind of choice?” I asked.

“The diploma program provides the rigor to ensure that everyone working in

education is accountable to learning and that students are prepared to transition to

further education and the workforce. We cannot water the diploma route down for the

sake of a handful of students. We owe it to society to provide the next generation of

literate and skilled workers to meet the needs of industry. K & E will look after the

students who are unable to make it up to this standard; it was, after all, designed to

ensure that these students successfully occupy the lower vocational niches they are

able to.”

That was a distortion, more Goddard and Terman than any of the expressed

purposes of K & E I’d seen, but I let it pass. “But you just said you supported blended

classes. How different can K & E really look in a blended class? Isn’t it true that being

included in classes that emphasize diploma exam-style assessment, and teaching to

the tests might feel inhospitable to K & E level students, or slow learners?” I asked.

He wasn’t having any of this, replying, “This is the responsibility of the

teachers. Teachers of these classes will have to determine how to make their K & E

students accountable to the outcomes at a lower level of instruction. That’s what

 411

inclusion is all about. Making all students and teachers appropriately accountable.”

After making this statement, he produced a cellular phone and briefly typed and sent

a message to someone. That seemed like a bad sign.

I tried to find something else to engage him. “But isn’t high school completion

also a priority? Aren’t you concerned about the drop-out rate? Don’t you think if the

whole program was set up to be more flexible and to give more chances …”

“It is unfortunate that certain students, due to various deficiencies, cannot

handle the system without additional support,” he said, cutting me off. “It is our

responsibility to study these students as individuals and remediate their deficiencies

as best we can so that they might eventually become more proficient as learners, or at

least become as proficient as they can. K & E is one such remediation. The inclusive

education measures are another. And perhaps more are needed too. But dropout

prevention is about the most efficient delivery of specialized services to the most at-

risk students. It has nothing to do with curriculum.”

Something occurred to me then, a point I thought he might have to

acknowledge. “From what I’ve been hearing, Inspiring Education will involve changes to

make assessment more flexible, to make teaching more inquiry-based and less top

down. Skinnier programs of study, greater student involvement in deciding what they

want to learn about, how they want to learn it, and how they want to demonstrate

their understanding, and more cross-curricular work. And then there’s the High

School Flexibility project removing the time-to-credit requirement. Isn’t the system

changing right under your feet?”

He glanced again at his watch. I wondered what event he was waiting for and

when it was supposed to happen. In a voice that was beginning to sound bored he said

“I am familiar with these projects, and not necessarily wholly opposed to them. If
 412

students’ perceptions of having greater freedom and being more in charge of their own

learning can be recruited to produce the sorts of the results the system needs, these

things need consideration. But these are merely techniques, not a philosophy. Limits

are needed: regimented inquiry, managed discovery, controlled participation with no

larger changes to our efficient and accountable system. The expert work of deciding

what learning needs to go into the production of socially useful citizens cannot truly

be left to the students. I will work to limit how deep these changes go.”

From what I could tell from reading through the new initiatives with Williamson

and from talking to Yolanda Grant, my captor’s interpretation of these reforms

underestimated their intent and ambition. I had assumed I was talking to someone

who worked directly for the department of education, but some of his statements, and

the blunt style with which he said them, were making me start to question this

assumption. “Who are you and how do you fit into all of this?” I asked.

“I work in an unofficial advisory capacity related to ensuring efficiency,

standards and correct bureaucratic procedure in the department’s operations. I’m

often consulted, though always unofficially, about the sorts of issues we have been

discussing.” He stated all this flatly, more like he was killing time now than really

talking to me. Then he added, “And, officially, I own the company that does all the

shredding and recycling for the education building.”

It registered on me that he’d neglected to tell me his name during this

explanation, but I was even more curious about his connection to all the others who’d

enacted their objections to my work on this case. Was he connected to whoever had

deported Jacques and Michel, and told Trent to lock me up and throw away the key?

What about Veronika Sternwood, the black widow of categorization, and Maddox
 413

Paine, the homicidal president of the competition society with the stupid name? I

asked about this.

“I may have given unofficial advice to the authorities in the case of the

banishing of your friends and your incarceration. The others you mention are

colleagues, but we work as independent cells to avoid detection, only communicating

when it is strictly necessary, such as when a determined anarchist seeks to destroy a

functioning system over a handful of students. When their methods of persuasion

failed, I knew it was up to me to put an end to your quest – by any means necessary.”

I was going to thank him for the new label to add to my resume, but I

remembered I’d decided to leave the sarcasm out of this conversation. Instead, I

objected in a straightforward manner. “I’m not trying to destroy the system,” I insisted.

Then I asked, “Why can’t inquiries like the one my client and I have launched help

guide the reforms? Why are they a threat?”

His voice went from bored to firm, and even more precise. “Beyond the level of

the individual taking the initiative to be more productive in his duties, the system can

ill-afford the distractions posed when any worker feels entitled to abandon his station

and indulge in planning conversations that he is ill-equipped to comprehend or

contribute meaningfully to with his betters. It may seem collaborative and helpful, but

it is narcissistic and inefficient. In the [disordered] past man has been first. In the

future the system must be first.393” He looked as his watch again and straightened an

already stiff frame in resolution. Then he said, “When I made the arrangements for our

meeting, I determined that I could afford to discuss my offer with you for ten minutes,

Mr. Hunter, less if you were ill-mannered. Our time is up.” He then asked, “Are you

prepared to terminate your investigation?”

393
Taylor, Scientific Management, 7.
 414

I considered my options. I couldn’t take the money and abandon the case, I’d

seen the danger the students were in. I could pretend I was closing the case, and

continue discreetly investigating. But this guy or someone from one of the other cells

was bound to catch up with me again. They seemed to have eyes all over the place. It

was suicidal, but I decided to go with a tactic of frontal honesty and hope for some

luck or inspiration with which to deal with whatever consequences arose.

“Maybe I’m a slow learner,” I said, “but I think there are still things that need to

come to light in this case.”

My captor sighed and remarked, “What a waste.” Then he walked across the

small room and opened the door. Four thickly-built men, each dressed in a security

uniform, entered.

He instructed the men. “Mr. Hunter has proven unfit to serve the purposes I

intended. Please dispose of him as we discussed.” Then he left without saying goodbye,

hurting my feelings.

The henchman yanked me to my feet and muscled me out the door and into a

large room. A creature with a giant mouth hummed, whirred and squeaked. It was the

largest paper shredder I’d ever seen. It was being fed paper, several boxes at a time, by

a wide conveyor belt, shredding not only the contents but also the boxes. The

shredded remains flew into large plastic bags which in turn rolled the rest of the way

down the conveyer, through a chute, and into (I assumed) a bin outside the bay door.

No need to be careful about staples and paperclips with this one, you could have run

the Buick through the blades and got nothing but thin little strips of fine American

styling on the other end. I felt like I’d been somewhere like this before, and then I

remembered the sick dream I had at the beginning of this case, the dream that took

place in the sorting factory.

 415

I shouted and struggled as eight strong arms added a leg tie to the arm tie, and

wrangled me into a large box, half full of paper. Darkness now as my head was forced

down. Then a squawking noise like a team of ducks as the henchman wound rolls and

rolls of tape around the box. A distant memory of the days of hilarity I’d experienced

playing in a refrigerator box, when my thrifty mother finally broke down and

purchased a new unit, came to me. Not so fun this time, maybe I was getting dull in

my old age. I felt suddenly weightless as the box was hoisted onto the belt. I wondered

what documents were here in the box with me, my final earthly companions, destined

to share my fate. Perhaps copies of some of the documents I’d read during my

investigation. The Special Education Coding Criteria, The Knowledge and

Employability Manual, last year’s education funding manual, the diploma exam

guidelines, or the, as yet unchanged, high school program of studies, a program

Yolanda Grant had told me would have to get a lot ‘skinnier’. I hoped, in my absence,

the inspiring professionals I met would be able to prevail over the likes of Veronika

Sternwood, Maddox Paine, and the nameless vigilante of efficiency who’d finally got

the drop on me. I decided to call him Shredder Man.

I felt the box beginning to move. My mind raced with a thousand thoughts, old

cases, broken romances, plans postponed until more convenient times, regrets. Then I

heard a voice. To this day I don’t know if it was some part of my consciousness that

was always there, waiting for the right moment to talk to me, or if the case somehow

took on a presence of its own and called out to me. Wherever the voice came from, its

message was a simple one. “Slow down, Max.” It seemed strange advice in my current

predicament, facing a less forgiving deadline than even the standardized tests that I’d

been learning about, but it somehow made sense. I cleared my mind of thoughts, and

when I did, possibilities started coming to me manageably, in single file.

 416

I rocked back and forth vigorously and felt the box tip and then fall to the side.

But rolling the box hadn’t dislodged me, I was still moving forward. I remembered a

trick from my time in law enforcement. I slammed both my wrists into the small of my

back using my body as a lever. The tie bit into my wrist but stayed on. I did it again

with the same result. On the third try the tie burst. I then tried punching through the

box, but the cardboard was too thick. I got my car keys from my pockets and made a

jagged fist, keys between each knuckle. I attacked the same spot on the box again,

rapidly punching. My hand burst through. I let go of my keys, stuck my arm out of the

box and grabbed onto the first solid thing I could feel. I forced my other arm through

and strengthened my grip on the thing. The conveyor belt kept pulling on the box as I

kept gripping the purchase I’d found, whatever it was. Just as I began to worry the

strength of my fingers might give out, the opposing forces of the conveyer pulling me

forward and my stubborn grip pulling me back began to rip a larger hole in the box.

My head and then my whole torso popped out. I saw that what I’d grabbed was the

outer edge of the mouth of the shredder. The blades were just beginning to slice at the

bottom of the box. I pulled hard and got myself free all the way to my knees. The

blades screamed as they cleaved. I could feel the paper sliding past my legs and into

the blades as I finally got my feet out and tumbled off the conveyor. I landed on my

shoulder and rolled away from the machinery.

I heard shouting, and then footsteps from the distance. My potential

executioners must have been watching from another room. Still bearing in mind the

advice I had recently given myself, I scrunched down, slowed down my breathing and

tried to make a plan. Crouched in the empty space between the conveyor belt and the

safety fencing, I got the credit card from my wallet and used it to unlock the leg tie.

Someone had shut off the shredder. I thought of trying to flee, but the footsteps were
 417

getting louder and I didn’t think I had enough time. I hid under machinery. I saw four

sets of legs. It was a tight space between the conveyor and the safety fencing, probably

too tight for all of them to fit in at once, I thought. I heard a bit of discussion and then

one of them entered the space. He walked gradually, carefully. It was all shadows

under the machine and he couldn’t see me. Quickly as I could, I rolled out behind him

from under the machine. I crouched and grabbed both his feet and pulled back like I

was an Olympic rower. For a second, I thought I wasn’t going to be able to move him

but I had surprised him and the space had forced him into a narrow stance, bad for

balance. He fell forward and I let myself fall with him, reaching for and winning his

sidearm as he was falling. The fence caught our fall and he struck back at me with a

clumsy elbow I was mostly able to roll away from. I cracked him behind the ear with

his sidearm, once and then again for good measure. He sagged into the fence. I turned

now on the other guards. They were drawing in on me from three different angles.

We all stood there for a minute staring at each other. I tried to come up with

another possibility for this situation but couldn’t, no matter how much I tried to slow

things down. Then every light in the place went out. There was confused shouting,

scuffling, and the percussive sounds of heads and bodies being struck. Someone with

a flashlight pointed it in my face and told me to follow him. I shuffled out between the

fence and the conveyor belt and followed the light. Another four beams, all in single

file joined up with it. We paraded down the large room to the chute where shredded

paper fell into the bin outside. The crew who had rescued me had simply come in

through a hole in the chute.

One by one, we took a ladder down through the hole. My leg didn’t like it, but I

didn’t have much choice and it was only a short way down. A van was waiting for us. I

got in along with my most recent rescuers. I began to ask questions, but one of them
 418

shushed me. The driver wasn’t taking anything slowly just then, tearing down the

building’s back road and blowing through a security gate. Once we’d travelled for a

while, though, he did slow down. I started again to ask questions but they were

coming out too fast. The rescuer beside me in the first row of seats took off his black

ski mask. He had a strong, wizened face; determined lips below a moustache that

pulled off the trick of looking both down-to-earth and distinguished. He had bright,

alert eyes. He told me what I had repeated to myself earlier, “Slow down, Max.” I took

his advice, deciding not to speak again until I’d had more time to consider everything

that had just happened to me. The rest of the crew took their masks off as well. Like

my seatmate, the driver was an older fellow, with straight grey hair that hung past his

ear, a chin dimple that rivalled Kirk Douglas’ and a permanently (I suspected)

quizzical expression. There were three rescuers in the seat behind us; a broad-

shouldered, red-haired man with a round face and a whitening goatee, a younger

woman with pink hair, eyebrow and nose piercings, and an oddly serious face, and a

thin man with short, curly hair just starting to grey at the sideburns. He had dark

eyes and an impish sort of smile.

“Who are you?” I asked, deciding this was as good a place to start as any.

“We’ll do individual introductions once we find a more comfortable place to talk,” the

thinner of the two men in the back seat began, “but suffice it to say we are a loosely

structured league in defense of slow learning.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been doing!” I exclaimed. “Defending slow learners.”

“Slow learning, Max, not slow learners,” said the pink-haired woman.

I wasn’t sure I got the distinction. “Does my client, Williamson, know about

you?” I asked.
 419

The man beside me, the older one with the moustache, spoke up. “We’ve been

considering approaching him. Other members of our community have recommended

him to us, but we are still vetting him. His heart is in the right place about justice for

the students, but we have been unsure, as yet, if he is ready for our message.” He had

a way of talking that made even ordinary words sound weighty.

It was interesting to hear this assessment of my client. I wondered how many of

the people who’d helped me on this case were members of this league? Many of the

rest seemed likely compatriots too. I made a mental note to ask about all of this later,

but I had a more immediate concern just then. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“We’d like to take you to one of our meeting places and tell you more about who

we are and what we do. It may be essential to your case.” This came from the driver,

who spoke with a French accent.

Ironically, considering my present company, I didn’t feel like I had the patience.

I wasn’t sure I could stand another long conversation about educational philosophy. “I

have a better idea,” I said. “You seem a handy enough crew. Let’s go back and see if we

can get Shredder Man.”

“Get?” asked the husky guy in the back seat.

“Yeah, rough him up, maybe force him to help us find some damning evidence

of his crimes, wrap him up like a present and give him to the cops,” I replied. I wanted

to do worse, but knew my code would only allow me to take things this far, unless it

was more or less in self-defense.

“Please Max, slow down and let me explain,” the driver said. “We came right

away when Yolanda Grant called us up and said you were near the education building

asking questions about slow learners. We thought it likely you’d be captured. We came
 420

as soon as we could but, even so, we were worried we wouldn’t make it in time. You

did well, by the way, to hold your captors off for as long as you did.”

None of this came close to answering my question, but I thanked him

nevertheless, feeling a tinge of pride at this. I made a mental note to remember the two

things I learned from the adventure: you can keep a villain talking for longer if you

don’t insult him, and when things look like they’re at their worst, slow down.

“These sorts of skirmishes need to be fought when the dangers are imminent,”

the driver continued, “but the struggle we are engaged in is more like a war of

attrition. You’ve done well to expose and reveal some of the ideologies that threaten

your slow learners, and our principles of slow learning. It would be wiser now to let

the sorts that you have encountered attempt their misguided work in greater light, for

all to see. Our movement is gaining momentum, and these displays of ruthless sorting,

out of control competition, and monstrous bureaucracy serve ultimately to emphasize

the need for our way of thinking. The complete vanquishing of the agents you

struggled with might serve to drive these ideologies underground, towards greater

secrecy, where they might be more dangerous."

Most of me thought that this was the wrong way to go, and that a big reckoning

was still due. What the driver said made at least enough sense to me, though, that I

felt I needed to hear more about their league before I made my next move. I agreed to

go along with them.

 421

XXXIV

The driver took us to yet another large high school. There were only a few cars

in the parking lot, the night caretaking staff I figured. He drove around the back and

up to a bay door and we all got out of the van. The husky, red-haired guy punched a

code into a panel beside the door, and it slid up. We all went in and he lowered the

door and turned on the lights. What I saw brought me back to the semester of high

school when I took a class in a shop like this, finding the experience enjoyable but my

carpentry skills mediocre. It smelled comfortingly of sawdust, glue and paint. On the

far side from where we entered, there was a small office and then ten large tables

where I assumed the students worked at light assembly as well as any theory or

‘bookwork’ components from the class. There were various power tools, table saws and

the like by the bay door, and a storage space for hand tools and projects in progress in

the other corner.

The man who let us in bade us to sit at one of the tables. The metal stools

weren’t any more comfortable than I remembered them from high school, but still an

improvement over the chair I’d occupied while bound and wondering what form the

most recent attempt on my life would take. He went into the office and came back with

a tin, a kettle, a French press, cups, and an icepack for my face. The icepack made my

injuries feel worse again, but then better as it started to do its work. Aside from the

impishly smiling guy staring at my face for a minute and then wincing

sympathetically, no one said or did much of anything while the husky man prepared

the coffee. The whole process probably only took four minutes but I found this

annoying nevertheless. If they were going to talk to me about their league, I wanted to

get to it. I wanted to see where it fit into the case so I could make my next move. I
 422

wondered why a busy shop teacher, as I deduced him to be, would choose this method

to get his java fix when there were faster ways. Then I wondered if it had anything to

do with The League I was about to find out about. When he was finished, he poured

for us all and then, glancing to make sure a safety poster still obscured the window of

the door leading out to the rest of the school, produced a flask of brandy from his

pocket and topped us all up. The coffee was good, perhaps not cosmically worth the

pain and terror that had led up to my connecting with this group, but well worth the

short wait as he had prepared it after all.

After sipping appreciatively for a while, we did introductions around the table.

The pink-haired woman was Annabelle Stanley; the husky shop teacher / French

press wizard was Tony Baird; the impish-faced guy with the curly hair was Carl

Honoré; the driver was John Dewey, a thinker Matthew Summit had told me a little

about, and the man who’d been sitting beside me in the van was Jacques Rancière.394

Carl Honoré spoke up, “Around ten years ago, I wrote a book about a worldwide

movement – the Slow Movement – active on multiple fronts, dedicated to challenging

societal obsessions with speed, hyper-efficiency, and hyper-productivity395 I discovered

the same phenomena at work in human endeavors as varied as cooking and dining,

urban planning, health and exercise, work, sex, leisure, and schooling and child-

rearing.”

I almost missed the last, and most relevant, items on his list, my mind

having trailed off to thoughts of slow sex. When it did register with me, though, it hit

394
It is perhaps a somewhat egregious exaggeration of the common ground between this writer, these two
scholars, and these two teachers / interview subjects to lump them into this defense league for slow
learning, particularly since only Honoré uses the term “slow learning” explicitly. The idea of slow
learning is nevertheless strengthened by this appropriation.
395
Carl Honoré, In Praise of Slow: How a Worldwide Movement is Challenging the Cult of Speed,
(Toronto: Vintage Canada, 2004).
 423

me almost as hard as the blackjack had some hours ago. I gave myself a stern mental

warning that I had better focus.

“Carl has been called the Godfather of the Global Slow Movement,”396 Annabelle

Stanley said teasingly.

“And its unofficial guru,”397 added Jacques Rancière chuckling.

Carl Honoré rolled his eyes and said, “These labels are grotesque exaggerations,

though they do help sell my books. Actually, I’m more like a recovering

speedaholic.”398 He grinned self-effacingly.

I asked him to explain himself.

“Well, the crisis that provoked my investigation of our cultural obsession with

speed, and of the slow movement, involved reading bedtime stories to my son, who

was two at the time.399 My tendency was to speed read the stories, not wanting to

spend too long on the task lest it take time away from my next scheduled activity. His

preference, of course, was for me to take my time. Read more slowly, actually talk to

him about the book, and read his favorite books, not just the shortest ones.400 It was a

nightly tug-of-war between us.401 Well, one day as I was reflecting on this dilemma, I

saw an ad for a series of ‘Sixty Second Bedtime Stories.’ I immediately lurched on to

the concept of this as the solution to all of my problems. Then, later, I was horrified at

my own interest in the books.”

“That’s a courageous confession,” I remarked, “but what does it have to do with

slow learners?”

396
Huffington Post in “About Carl,” in Carl Honoré (2014), http://www.carlhonore.com/about/
397
Globe and Mail in “About Carl.”
398
Carl Honoré, “In Praise of Slowness” TED video. Filmed July 2005. 19:14. http://www.ted.com
/talks/carl_honore_praises_slowness.
399
Honoré, In Praise of Slow, 2.
400
Ibid. p. 3.
401
Ibid.
 424

“Patience, Max,” John Dewey said in a fatherly tone that I somehow didn’t

resent.

Carl Honoré continued. “Well, once I started investigating, I came to realize that

the various communities that make up the slow movement, though diverse and

decentralized, all challenge the same ways of thinking that I was displaying with the

bedtime story. Larry Dorsey, a physician, called it time sickness, the feeling that time is

getting away and that there is never enough of it.402 It starts with the western tendency

to think of time as linear and finite. Add to that increasingly sophisticated

technologies for measuring time and centralization of global time zones. Add to that

the impulse of industrial capitalism to consider time as a resource, ‘time is money’ as

Benjamin Franklin said, and to feed on speed.”403

“I saw a formula for funding high schools in which time is quite literally

money,” I said. Then I realized it was a little hypocritical of me to see this as some sort

of sign of institutional depravity. Even though the rates I charge for my work are pretty

reasonable, one hundred twenty-five dollars a day was indeed a ‘time is money’

calculation as well.

Carl Honoré nodded in polite acknowledgement of my example and continued.

“Now consider consumerism, which constantly jacks up both the levels of abundance

and the number of components which go into our vision of the good life, and then

decreases the time we have to enjoy any of these things.404 And technology, the false

friend that saves time [but always with the result] of creating new duties and desires.405

And then there’s multi-tasking …”

402
Ibid.
403
Ibid., 23.
404
Ibid., 30.
405
Ibid., 31.
 425

I heard echoes of Martin’s idea of standing reserve, but I still wasn’t sure we

were getting anywhere. “I get it,” I said, cutting him off. “We’re all time sick. But what

does that have to do with slow learners, or even with your league of slow learning? I

still wasn’t sure I got the difference between the two, but I wanted to steer him away

from this depressing analysis and towards something relevant to me – if he had

anything to offer.

“Well, the damage done by an over-velocitized society can potentially be hard on

everyone. Constant impatience and boredom, anxiety over not being able to achieve

everything, obesity problems from gorging on un-nourishing fast food, health problems

from overwork and lack of sleep, inability to relax, a consumer industry that rushes

out products before they are they are thoroughly tested for safety …”

“Carl,” Annabelle Stanley chastened, saving me the effort.

“But specifically to your students, the cult of speed contributes to drill and kill

teaching practices, rigid, content-heavy curriculum, more homework and more exams,

standardized tests, de-emphasis of activities that require creativity, increased

competition, and generally, the imposition of an intensified mode of being for children

in schools that isn’t even working very well for their parents in workplace settings.”

I thought of how Sputnik, the satellite that had accelerated U.S. curriculum,

had helped create the idea of learning disabled as Carl Honoré continued. “It’s hard to

imagine any student truly thriving as a happy and well–rounded person in this

environment, but some students fail to thrive in particularly visible ways, behavioral

issues and low grades for example, and can be labelled ‘slow’ as in stupid because of

this. Maybe they lack the so-called advantages that the parents of so many of their

peers are increasingly exploiting, tutors and the like, or maybe they’re just not built
 426

for this kind of speed. It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with them, but it

appears this way in such a system.”

“So, there’s your slow learners,” I acknowledged, “but where does slow learning

come in.”

“Slow schools and slow classrooms are emerging and we work to support them.

Just as the slow food movement has inspired people to really appreciate cooking and

dining we try to give students the freedom to fall in love with learning.406 The pacing is

gentler, students are given an opportunity to study subjects in greater depth, make

connections, and learn to think. Less emphasis on ‘drill and kill’ and sorting by ability

levels, and a greater emphasis on communities of learners playing with ideas and

flexing their creative muscles. A scholar I am reading has recently described this type

of learning as ‘whiling’ and ‘tarrying’ and points out that it provokes a ‘profound

thoughtfulness’ and honoring of the subjects being studied.407 Let me see if I can find

the exact quote I liked.”

And with that he pulled out his cell phone, clicked around for a bit, and then

read it to me. “The more we understand of them, the better — richer, more intriguing,

more complex, more ambiguous and full and multiple of questions — they become, and

the more we realize that gobbling them up into a knowing that we can commodify,

possess and exchange is not only undesirable. It is impossible.”408

There were murmurs of agreement around the table; one of them came from

me. From what I could tell, the practices the students I met had suffered under the

most involved the commodifying sort of knowing that this scholar that was objecting

to. This way of consuming knowledge had declared them lacking when they were

406
Ibid., 255.
407
David W. Jardine, “On the While of Things,” Journal of the American Association for Advancement of
Curriculum Studies 4 (2008):7, http://www2.uwstout.edu/content/jaaacs/vol4/jardine.pdf.
408
Ibid., 6.
 427

unable to keep up, and when they became the subjects, this same consuming way of

knowing had settled on the labels slow learner, or intellectually disabled, or learning

disabled and then cut off any further discussion of their complexity. And yet, in our

two discussions, given the time and space to consider my questions, they’d often

presented as pretty insightful students. Many of the suggestions that my previous

informants had given about what conditions would make school more just for slow

learners seemed contained in what Carl Honoré and the source he was quoting were

saying too. Colleen Birdseye had described how she taught thusly, and Matthew

Summit had said that was how he envisioned IOP being taught. Hans had talked

about free spaces, and Martin had talked about a deeper, non-quantifying, non-

commodifying way of thinking. Slow learning, as Carl Honoré suggested, certainly

seemed conducive to deeper thinking for anyone who attempted it. I imagined the

other Jacques, as well as Michel, Martin, and Hans all had to employ slow learning in

their careful reading and thinking, how else would they have come up with the

interpretations they laid out?409

Still, coming from Carl Honoré, and regarding a way of being in classrooms, it

seemed, possibly, like some sort of pipe dream type of suggestion. Did he really know

what he was talking about? As far as I could tell, this man was neither a professional

educator nor a philosopher, he was just some sort of writer type who’d had crisis of

conscience, did some research, and wrote a book. On the other hand, he had

managed to attract the other league members too. I thought for a minute, and came

up with some objections I could throw at him to test this all out.

409
“To read well, that is to say, to read slowly, deeply, looking cautiously before and aft, with
reservations, with doors left open, with delicate eyes and fingers.” Frederick Nietzsche, Daybreak:
Thoughts on the Prejudices of Morality trans. R.J. Hollindare eds. Maudmarie Clark and Brian Leiter
(Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1997), 5
 428

Though I didn’t like all the sorting by perceived intelligence levels I’d seen, I’d

become well-versed in the assumptions behind the practice, so, playing devil’s

advocate, I asked a question from this perspective. “This sounds great for brighter

students, kids who already have the ability to take a topic they are curious about and

run with it, but psychologists say slow learners need more repetition, more instruction

in basic skills, less abstraction, and content reduced to the most essential parts. It

doesn’t sound like this kind of teaching really plans to ensure they receive these

things – it might leave too much to chance. Are slow learners intelligent enough for

slow learning as you describe it?”

Carl Honoré looked like he was about to say something, but Jacques Rancière

spoke up sooner. “A basic principle of criminal justice – how does it go? Unless proven

guilty you are …”

“Innocent,” I replied automatically.

“What if intelligence was thought of in a similar way?” he asked. “Just as

innocence is presumed – presume that everyone is intelligent, equally intelligent.”410

“That’s ridiculous,” I couldn’t help but saying. “People are not all of equal

intelligence. Everybody knows this.”

“Suspend for a moment your doubt about whether Jacques’ idea is true in a

grander sense, and consider the practical difference it might make if people operated

on this assumption,” John Dewey advised pragmatically.

“Many would say that it is unlikely that people are all equally innocent, even

among those deemed innocent,” Jacques Rancière added, resuming his analogy to the

criminal justice system, “but it remains an important operational principle in the

410
Jacques Rancière in Claire Bishop “Conversations with Jacques Rancière Part 1,” Teachers College,
Columbia University, (Podcast), (June 13, 2013), https://itunes.apple.com/us/itunes-u/conversations-
jacques-ranciere/id395710538?mt=10.
 429

system. Besides, who are we to say? You cannot really say because she did better on

this test, that Sally is smarter than the other students, or make the same statement

with the clauses reversed. It all becomes dangerously circular, it explains nothing.411

Imagine if institutions of learning operated on the understanding of equality of

intelligence instead, if we considered equality as a starting point, not a destination.

There could be no definition of slowness as in a lag or a deficiency under such an

understanding.”

“I’ve been learning about scaffolding, as a means of making learning equitable,”

I said. “The skilled teacher determining how much support each student requires to

meet the learning outcomes of the course and expertly providing these supports. How

does this jive with this idea of equal intelligence? If all the students are of equal

intelligence, why should teachers look for times they need to scaffold?”

“I find it interesting that you bring up the idea of a scaffold. Not that I have any

opposition to the act of helping it describes, but because of the vertical, hierarchical

relationship that the metaphor implies. This is a problematic relationship that

institutional teaching, unfortunately, usually entails. The greatest risk is not that

teachers will be deficient in the knowledge and skills to teach labelled students, it is

that their method of teaching, as so-called teaching experts, will reproduce the very

inequities they are hoping to heal. It matters little whether this inequity is brought

about by an authoritarian who believes the indoctrination of docile pupils is the proper

way to do things, or by the misguided reformist who believes the students too

culturally deprived to endure the rigors of their studies – the damage is the same.412

411
Jacques Rancière, The Ignorant Schoolmaster: Five Lessons in Intellectual Emancipation, trans.
Kristan Ross (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1981), 50.
412
Ibid., xv.
 430

There is stultification whenever one’s intelligence is subordinated to another ... whoever

teaches without emancipating stultifies”.413

“Stultification?” I asked.

“To frustrate, to make another feel useless, to kill one’s enthusiasm,” 414 he

replied.

“But teachers should know more than their students do in the subjects they are

teaching them. Isn’t it inevitable that this will create an unequal relationship?” I

asked.

“Another principle I hold essential in emancipatory education is that every

student has received from God the ability to self-instruct.415 The teacher’s only true

role is to assist in this process, having the will to help move it forward. Recognizing

this is how stultification is avoided,” Jacques Rancière replied.

I’d heard this line of thought before, it was implicit in the statements of several

of my interviewees, and in the vision of learning presented by Inspiring Education. It

was particularly evident in how Hans had quoted Socrates in describing the teacher as

the midwife to learning,416 and in how Martin had said the true teacher lets learn. I

recalled Martin had also described this way as very ‘difficult’, and Hans had said it

required considerable knowledge and wisdom. “Is it realistic,” I asked, “to expect that

teachers of slow learners will all have the necessary skills to teach in this

emancipatory way?”

413
Ibid., 18.
414
Definition of “stultify,” Oxford Dictionary,
http://www.oxforddictionaries.com /definition/english/stultify.
415
Rancière, The Ignorant Schoolmaster, 16.
416
See Ibid. , 17. Max would have no way of predicting this and it therefore it seems unlikely to come up
in this conversation, but Rancière’s perspective is that Socrates used inquiry only to guide students
towards pre-established knowledge. Therefore the master was, as seen from this perspective, a perfected
stultifier not an emancipatory educator.
 431

“It may not be a matter of formal expertise. Slow learning is a way of thinking

and acting,” Carl Honoré stated. “It has emerged outside of institutions. It has come,

at least in part from the work of the home-schooling community, parents who know

their children and embrace the philosophy of slow learning, but who are not

necessarily experts in all the subjects their children are learning.417 It has come from

informal learning collectives. A blog I was reading the other day called ‘Adventures in

Slow Learning,’ a forum for arts, crafts, creative writing and philosophizing suggested

the following characteristics of slow learning ...”

He began to rattle off the following list of items. Slow learning, the blog had

said:

• Promotes deep learning

• Crosses genres, disciplines

• Is grounded in the interests of the learner

• Champions the pleasures of learning

• Promotes inquiry and dialogue

• Lasts a lifetime

• Allows for authentic learning

• Seeks unmediated experiences

• Supports, and is supported by learning in community.

“More specifically,” said Jacques Rancière, “it has been shown that an effective

teacher can, in fact, be ignorant in many respects. Indeed ignorance can be beneficial

in emancipatory teaching. In 1819, Joseph Jacotot, a popular professor in the city of

Dijon, France, was forced into exile by the return of the Bourbons. He took up a

Patricia Kambitsch, “What is Slow Learning?” Adventures in Slow Learning (blog) accessed
417

November 28, 2011, para 2, http://slowlearning.org/.

 432

professorial position in the Netherlands, and soon found himself in the challenging

position of having students who spoke no French, even as he spoke no Flemish. He

gave every student a bilingual text of Télémaque, a popular contemporary retelling of

the adventures of the mythic hero Telemachus, with instructions that the students

work with the text until they could fluently recite it in French. By using this text, but

with no additional support from Jacotot, the students learned French grammar,

spelling, and composition. Please understand this was not a simplified text nor was it

designed to have any particular application for French instruction, and yet this was

the result.418 This was a surprising discovery for an instructor who had, until then,

endorsed the conventional view that it was his duty to transmit knowledge, or

explicate, to his students. It is less shocking when you remember that we have all

acquired our mother tongues as children without explication, before spending a day in

school.419 Why do we presume this intelligence goes away?”

“Good question,” I conceded. “But,” I added, hoping I wasn’t about to sound too

much like Shredder Man, “you can’t seriously be suggesting that an educational

system could run under a method this … haphazard and random. What assurances

would you have that the students were learning what you wanted them to learn?”

That question seemed to puzzle him for a minute. Then he said, “The pupil will

learn what he wants, nothing maybe. But he will know he can learn because the same

intelligence is at work in all the production of the human mind.”420

I wasn’t sure if I was satisfied with his answer, but before I could say anything,

John Dewey who had, until then, been listening attentively, and often nodding in

agreement, broke in. “I endorse these views to a point. Jacotot’s experiences and my

418
Rancière, The Ignorant Schoolmaster, 3 – 5.
419
Ibid., 5.
420
Ibid.,18.
 433

colleague’s alert analysis of them are of great service in dispelling the unfortunate and

undemocratic view that the act of teaching the child simply involves pouring

knowledge into a mental and moral hole that needs filling.421 Indeed, to be effective,

curriculum must recruit the child’s native impulses, and develop creativity as well as

academic skills.”422

John Dewey continued “Still, Jacques underestimates the role of the teacher as

the careful guide and the organizer of instructional activities. The goal of constructing

a curriculum that results in maximum growth is too important to rely solely on the

spontaneous interest of the pupils, or to leave their learning completely up to their

own impulses, or nature, or what have you, and hope for the best.423 Education has to

be directive to function.”424

Jacques Rancière tilted his head and regarded John Dewey suspiciously. I

thought it unlikely that this was the first time they’d discussed this difference. Dewey

hastened to add, “But with the urgency of the project of democratic education, and the

potential contribution of our league of slow learning in advancing this project and

mitigating the threats to it, perhaps this is a debate for calmer times.”

Jacques Rancière looked mollified, but only partially, by this. He still looked like

he wanted to say something, but I jumped in instead with a question of my own.

“Where exactly do you see the most serious threats to democratic education?” I asked.

I’d heard Carl Honoré’s and Jacques Rancière’s thoughts on this, but was curious as

to how John Dewey saw things.

421
John Dewey, Democracy and Education: A Penn State Electronic Classics Series Publication
(Pennsylvania State University, 2001), 56, www2.hn.psu.edu/faculty/jmanis/johndewey/dem-ed.pdf.
422
Pinar et.al.,“Understanding Curriculum,” 107.
423
Dewey, Democracy and Education, 57.
424
Ibid., 28.
 434

“The threat begins,” he replied, “with a fundamentally flawed definition of social

efficiency. Teaching for social efficiency does not involve subordinating individuals to

the demands of an industrial system, or merely acclimatizing them to the particular

stations within that system that they are deemed most likely to occupy. 425 It does

involve teaching the students industrial skills, but this is only one aspect of the larger

project of facilitating their development as complete persons, citizens ready to exercise

justice in daily life and participate in the democratic process,426 citizens ready to have

and reflect on experiences such that they will progressively learn to direct the course

of future experiences.427 Teaching for social efficiency means neither more nor less than

the capacity to share in the give and take of experience.”428

I was a little surprised to hear this advocate for slow learning talking about

efficiency at all, but this was a very different understanding of it than the one held by

the man who’d attempted to have me shredded a few hours ago. I considered the

phrase ‘industrial skills’, and another couple of questions came to me. “How do you

balance training in industrial skills with the broader goals that you mention, and how

do you offer an appropriately comprehensive training program in industrial skills

without making the students feel like they’re being pigeon-holed into narrow career

areas?” This was something that had been bothering me since I read the phrase about

those ‘doing the drudgery’ being in their rightful place in the museum. Though I’d

found many educators who were trying to open doors for slow learners, I still worried

that the system itself was in some ways grooming them for little more than low paid,

low-skilled work even if they did their part in completing the Knowledge and

Employability certificate.

425
Ibid., 124.
426
Ibid., 126.
427
Ibid., 81.
428
Pinar et. al., “Understanding Curriculum,” 109.
 435

John Dewey replied, “Occupation is not to be misconstrued as a purely

vocational concept - though I highly value the practical, manual work that falls under

the rubric of vocational education – as a way to engage all students. Thinking

occupationally involves a way of learning that is active; it is closely linked to the

student’s environment and interests, it is conducted in democratic and cooperative

ways, it should involve the open communication of ideas, and it should mirror how

learning takes place in the larger community outside the school, at least if that

community is appropriately democratic.”429

Jacques Rancière added, “Occupation might also mean to occupy – as in the

recent protests. Authorities often imagine a space such as a downtown street only as a

means of circulation of people, money or goods. They recoil when it becomes a space of

gathering and speaking and exchanging ideas. Imagine the police saying ‘move along,

there is nothing to see here’.430 Similarly, gathering and talking and taking one’s time

with ideas in communities of learning, and thereby slowing down the traffic of

institutional currencies, that’s slow learning as a political act.” There were nods

around the table but none of us had anything to add to this.

“The whole idea of active occupation sounds pretty, I don’t know, fast, or at

least busy,” I remarked, returning to John Dewey’s conception of it. “I imagine excited

students scurrying around. How does this even count as slow learning?”

Carl Honoré remarked, “Slow learning isn’t necessarily inefficient, and rushed

and intensified learning isn’t necessarily that effective. Many of the educators I spoke

429
Ibid., 106.
430
Jacques Rancière, "Ten Thesis on Politics," Theory & Event trans. Rachel Bowlby, 5 No. 3
(2001), para. 27, http://www.egs.edu/faculty/jacques-ranciere/articles/ten-thesis-on-politics/.
 436

to said children learn more completely and develop more rounded personalities when

they learn in a less regimented, less hurried way.”431

“Slow learning means done with the right intent, the moral imperative to

educate democratically,” John Dewey said. “A child may have to be snatched with

roughness away from a fire so that he shall not be burnt. But no improvement of

disposition, no educative effect, need follow. A harsh and commanding tone may be

effectual in keeping a child away from the fire, and the same desirable physical effect

will follow as if he had been snatched away. But there may be no more obedience of a

moral sort in one case than in the other.432 Learning through the mere absorption of

facts is no better; it might increase a child’s competitive zeal to memorize more

information than her classmates, but it will produce no social gain.433 Learning some

sort of self-contained lesson is artificial and ineffective. These restrictive classroom

conditions mirror nothing so much as the societal pattern of hordes of laborers who

are not permitted to fully, freely, or intelligently engage in their work, 434 who are

treated by their employers more or less as appendages to the tools they operate.435 As

Jacques has implied, the restrictive classroom conditions only reproduce the larger

inequities. 436 To organize education so that natural active tendencies shall be fully

enlisted in doing something, while seeing to it that the doing requires observation, the

acquisition of information, and the use of a constructive imagination, is what most needs

to be done to improve social conditions.”437

431
Honoré, In Praise of Slow, 256.
432
Dewey, Democracy and Education, 31.
433
John Dewey, Dewey on Education: Selections, ed. Martin M. Dworkin (New York: Teacher’s College
Press, 1959), 40.
434
Dewey, Democracy and Education, 268.
435
Ibid., 323.
436
Ibid., 143.
437
Ibid.
 437

I remembered something Matthew Summit had said. When I asked him if he

thought slow learners were different than other students in their need for concrete

learning, he’d said he thought all students were concrete learners. I found myself

enjoying this conversation. Over the course of the investigation, I’d been given

glimpses of ways of teaching and learning that might finally provide some justice to

slow learners, but this league, though they still appeared to have some tensions to

resolve, was attempting to give these practices a name and turn them into a

comprehensive philosophy. It was also nice to be talking on this higher plane, beyond

labels and procedures and course sequences and funding formulas, for a change. This

reflection, however, drove me back to the practical. I’d certainly witnessed leagues,

organizations, and full scale movements that were long on talk and short on action.

Was this, I asked myself using a metaphor that I’d used before on this case, a mirage

or an oasis? The rescue they’d recently affected on me was pretty decisive I supposed,

but aside from this I’d seen little evidence of a capacity for action in this group. And I

was beginning to wonder what purposes, aside from helping out on rescue operations,

Annabelle Stanley and Tony Baird served in the group. She’d spoken up only once,

when Carl Honoré was getting carried away. After making the coffee, all Tony had done

was sit and listen. Finally I asked, “What does it all look like? I mean, this is an

impressive set of ideas, but what might this look like in Alberta’s schools?”

John Dewey asserted, “All of us have had many relevant and valuable

experiences with slow learning, but our colleagues here,” he added, seeming to have

heard my unasked question as well, “can speak to some very contemporary examples.”

Carl Honoré took back the role of master of ceremonies and said, “Tony, please

tell us about your house project.” This hit me like a jolt of electricity. I had been
 438

hearing about this project for much of my investigation, but didn’t know where it fit in,

and twice failed to follow up on the lead.

Tony drained the rest of his coffee and began, “I used to work at a school with

one hundred fifty or so IOP students and nine teachers. For three weeks at a time, the

whole school would shut down and every student would go to work in cooperative job

placements. This was a good arrangement for a lot of the students, but there were a

few problems. Kids would get fired from their jobs, and we’d have to find something to

do with them. The other problem was that it was hard to get kids into trades jobs.

Trades employers didn’t feel like they had the time to train students. As we thought a

lot of our students well-suited for career paths in the trades, this was a problem. Then

I remembered hearing from one of my instructors when I was in college about a school

in Houston that built a house as a class project. I got together with some other

teachers and the instructor who told me about the Houston Project, and we decided to

try to build a house with our IOP students. At first, the school district wouldn’t allow

us to borrow money; we even offered to take out money against our own mortgages,

but they wouldn’t allow it. So, we did a presentation to one of the largest companies in

the city, Canuck Foods, and they said they’d give us fifteen thousand for the project,

and after that the district changed its mind and said they would loan us another

seventy-five thousand. We eventually built four houses and twenty-one garages

between the house projects.”

“That’s pretty impressive,” I said, “but how did it help the students?” Tony

chipped absently with his fingernail at some dried glue on the table and then

answered my question. “We were able to work with the trades employers to have them

send out journeyman who would be good with the students. They were often older

guys. The journeyman electrician, for example, would turn a bucket over, sit on it, and
 439

tell his two students ‘do my plug in’, and he’d watch and direct the students this way

as they did every plug in for the house. It took a week longer than he would have

taken on his own, but that was ok.”

“A week longer,” I thought, “that is slow learning.”

“What was so special about how the trades guys taught the students, as

opposed to what their teachers could have done on-campus?” I asked.

He replied, “Well the lived curriculum in project house …”

I interrupted to ask what ‘lived curriculum’ was, and he told me it was exactly

what it sounded like, an emphasis on thinking of teaching and learning not in terms of

planning, but as lived or experienced.438

Tony Baird continued. “The lived curriculum was really evident in the house

project. You’d have IOP kids who couldn’t do math in abstraction suddenly using a

square, doing rise and run when doing stairs – because that’s how you have to do it.

Sometimes the tradespeople who might have been IOP level students, you know pretty

un-academic way back when they were in school, would have a method of doing some

sort of measurement or calculation that we college-instructed teachers didn’t get. But

our students would get it the way the tradespeople were teaching it. It would make

sense to them. In a way, they were better math teachers than us.”

“Was it just having access to the tradespeople as instructors that made the

difference in the student’s learning?” I asked. I knew there was more to it than that,

but wanted to hear him explain it.

“Well, you can’t tell a kid what to wear, or what to take for lunch.” I thought of

all the students I’d seen outside, smoking, in their t-shirts in the dead of winter, and I

knew what he meant. Tony continued, “But the kids on our project realized ‘hey I need

438
Ted T. Aoki, “Legitimating lived curriculum: Towards a curricular landscape of multiplicity,” Journal
of Curriculum and Supervision, 8 no.3, 255.
 440

a bigger lunch’, and, ‘hey I need to dress warmer’. Once winter set in, we noticed the

students were bringing much larger lunches with thermoses of hot liquids. They were

dressing in layers. You need this when you are in the cold from eight to three, except

for maybe a half hour in a warm van at lunch.” I wondered if the bitter cold had

taught me anything on this case.

John Dewey said, “The more human the purpose, or the more it approximates the

ends which appeal in daily experience, the more real the knowledge.”439 Despite this

expression of approval, I was already thinking that it sounded like things had fallen

into place too easily once Tony and the other teachers got it up and running. I asked

Tony about some of the obstacles he had faced.

“I switched schools at one point – I was recruited really – to start up the house

project at this other school. A new administrator to the school used to make all kinds

of rude comments about slow learners. He was smart enough to know better than to

make fun of the students with outright intellectual disabilities, but he loved to insult

the IOP students. He said trying to teach these kids was a waste of time, and why

couldn’t we just build doghouses. I had to go the principal, who assured me we

wouldn’t just be building doghouses. Also, we made money on most of the houses we

built and spent that money on improving the shop facilities at the school, but on the

third house we had a buyer who didn’t really get that this was an educational

endeavor and basically tried to squeeze us for all the material costs on the project. We

ended up losing $3000 on that one. I got questioned about it by an administrator and

had to remind him that the art department loses $6000 every year, so for me to spend

$3000 in order to provide these sorts of opportunities to such a large number of

students was probably worth it.”

439
Dewey, Democracy and Education, 206.
 441

“Accused of inefficiency, you had to remind him of the deeper efficiencies of

habit you were developing in so many students,” John Dewey remarked.

“Your project depended on the separation of IOP students from other students

in the district,” I observed. “If you didn’t have the separate classes with three weeks at

a time for vocational pursuits, you wouldn’t have had a project. Doesn’t that run

counter to inclusive education?”

“Even though the one school specialized in IOP and the lower academic tier of

regular education, I don’t think it was that restrictive. In my old school, you’d have an

IOP level, English 30-4, or I guess it was 36 at the time, class of maybe fourteen

students. You’d teach them well, raise their confidence, and maybe six or seven would

be willing and able to go that extra mile and learn a bit more to challenge the diploma

exam. That’s way better than dumping four or five K & E students in a regular English

30-2 class with teaching to the test going on, and thirty-nine kids in it. Now on the

house project, when I transferred to more of a regular sort of school that had every

level of class, we included students from lots of different areas in the project. We had

an International Baccalaureate art student design one of the houses, and then he took

shop so he could help build it. We had special education kids with intellectual

disabilities on Project House with us, with assistants. It went fine.

I noted he was speaking in the past tense. “Are you still running the house

project?” I asked.

“Unfortunately, no. The Alberta government changed the rules for insurance.

There’s urban school insurance, and rural insurance for schools, and we’re under

urban – and it became so restrictive it would have been impossible to continue the

projects. Too much red tape, and it drove the costs up too high.”
 442

This annoyed me. “I thought you said this was a contemporary example. If the

house project would be impossible under today’s regulations,” I asked The League of

Slow Learning, “why was it so important to have Tony tell me about it?”

“I hold this project as one of many examples of the sorts of experiential learning

your so-called slow learners need to thrive educationally. There are mental and

bureaucratic barriers to every project; they may become unsurmountable in some

cases, but there are also free spaces for experiential learning in any educational

milieu,” John Dewey replied.

“Take something as simple as an eighty-minute wood shop class,” said Tony.

“When I teach shop in here, I let everyone build the projects they want to build. We

spend the first five minutes of every class figuring out all the jobs that those projects

will need. It works well. This other guy I work with has everyone build the same

widgets. It’s more efficient maybe, whatever that means, but the students don’t learn

as much or enjoy the class as much. They all make the same lamp. They all line up at

the table saw to do exactly the same cuts, or the instructor does the cuts for them.”

“With the other teacher, it’s like the students are widgets making widgets. It’s

more about the learning than the product with you,” I said, thinking I was

summarizing.

“Yes it is, but the product isn’t irrelevant. They get a lot more choice and

freedom, but I expect good work. Unless it’s done right, it doesn’t leave the shop. I tell

the kids that no parent is going to want to pay the shop fee next year if their child

brings home junk. But it’s a lot easier to get the students to buy into all of this when

the projects are truly theirs.”

 443

John Dewey said, “Tony’s students in the shop class – their projects are all

different, but they are all truly participating in the experience of the craft as a learning

community. Just like the students working on the house project.

Nobody said anything for a minute. Then Jacques Rancière said, “Annabelle’s

project epitomizes my concept of equality of intelligence.”

On this cue, Annabelle produced a small tablet-style computer from her

backpack, entered a password, and clicked on a video file. The video depicted a large

gathering of students in what looked like a library. Some students were at tables,

some were sitting together on the carpeted floor. I wondered why anyone would sit on

the floor when offered the choice of a chair, but dismissed the thought as

unimportant. Many students had laptop computers or tablets. While some were

engaged in individual work, others appeared to be showing or explaining things to

partners with use of the machines. I could tell by the give and take dynamics between

the partners that they were not just passively watching videos together. Many of the

kids were smiling and laughing, particularly when they noticed they were being filmed,

but it still looked like work.

“What is this?” I asked.

Annabelle paused the video and explained. “All of the students, regardless of

their levels of English Language Arts, do an all-semester inquiry-based project. The

amount of support we give and how we assess depends partially on the level, though

we are pushing for depth at all levels. We work on it all afternoon one day a week, we

teachers call it Diverse Learning Day, but the kids call it English Mondays. Students

get to choose the space they work in, a classroom, the library or a computer room.

Some of the working environments are noisier, some are quiet. The grade tens come

up with an inquiry question, research it, and then explain to their classmates what
 444

they asked about and what they learned. In grade eleven, still working with the same

topics usually, they go back to their questions and revise them, go back to their

sources and evaluate them, and then do annotated bibliographies. Then they film a

public service announcement or PSA, you know like the advertisements you see on TV,

about some aspect of that topic. The PSAs are only sixty to ninety seconds, but we

expect they cover a lot of ground with this time. They watch a lot of PSAs in advance.”

“Wow, a whole semester to make a sixty second ad,” I thought. “That is slow

learning.” I asked if there were challenges unique to working with the K & E students

or slow learners. Jacques Rancière scowled at me.

Annabelle Stanley replied, “For the K & E kids, it’s really hard at first because

they are so conditioned by ‘what do you want me to do’. That’s where the rapport

comes in. We really have to persuade them they are their projects, and they can

inquire into anything they want. As long as it’s school appropriate, and even if it isn’t,

we can make often help them make it that way. After that it’s fine. It can sometimes be

hard to remember what instructional levels the different students are from when it’s

going well.”

Annabelle Stanley resumed playing the video. It showed a student apparently in

the process of explaining her project to an attentive group of peers. I had no way of

knowing what level of English she was in, but she looked pretty confident. As this

continued, a list of some of the inquiry projects scrolled across the screen.

• Do professional athletes get paid too much?

• Body image of women in the media.

• Do we control time or does time control us?

• What causes a black hole?

• Does God exist?

 445

• Is sport the new religion?

• Why do we dream?

 Why am I so pessimistic?

Annabelle explained that the student who’d completed the last project had done an

inquiry that involved media, literature, psychology, and personal and family history.

She then told me more about some of the other projects. “Last year, the student who

was really into black holes, who was a K & E student, wrote to NASA. They not only

responded, but posted, his question. We’ve twice had students with autism email

Temple Grandin and get responses from her as a part of their research. There’s

something to it when the K & E students are sitting next to Advanced Placement

students, and they are working on the same project.”

I thought I understood what she was trying to show me, but I wasn’t sure I was

buying it. “Looks like a good project,” I admitted, “but how does this address the larger

institutional injustices slow learners experience? How does it prevent them from falling

through the cracks, or getting pushed through the cracks?”

She replied, “In the past three years since we started the project, graduation

rates have improved. In this school, the subject of English had been one of the many

beasts that hindered high school completion, not only with the K & E students, but

with our large population of English as a Second Language students. In addition to

our overall graduation rates, our class grades in English have improved in every tier

since we started with the inquiry project, and in the tiers in which students write

diploma exams, the marks have improved on these too. It’s becoming more and more

cross-curricular, which means we can use it to engage the students more in their work

throughout the entire school day. We always took the instructional time from the

humanities, and the students’ work on the projects was considered a part of both their
 446

English and Social Studies marks, but teachers in other areas like math, science, and

art, have started to give the students credit for demonstrating learning relevant to

these courses too. So in addition to being able to inquire into topics that personally

interest them, the students are having their efforts recognized across multiple

subjects.”

I told them about the High School Flexibility project, and how I thought it would

be a perfect match for something like this, allowing students the time to work on their

inquiries without all the timekeeping about how long they were spending engaged in

this or that class.

To this John Dewey nodded and said, “And with projects like this, the academic

subjects become more like resources to serve the learners and their inquiries and less

like sets of arbitrary and artificially divided lessons that are being imposed on

them.”440

Nobody said anything for a while, giving me time to come up with what I felt to

be an important question. “I can see many similarities between the two projects, but I

can’t help but notice that the house project depended on a lot more separation of slow

learners from other students. Tony, your first house project happened at a separate

vocational school, and even the new school you worked at must have run a pretty

different program for the IOP students, if they were able to get that much time to be

off-campus working on it. Annabelle, your project is just the opposite, bringing

students from a variety of academic levels together. What is your stance, as The

League of Slow Learning, on whether programming for slow learners should be

separate or congregated?”

440
Pinar et al., “Understanding Curriculum,” 107.
 447

They looked at each other for a minute. “That’s another issue we are still

discussing,” Carl Honoré admitted.

“I admire Tony’s project and his approach,” Annabelle Stanley said, “but when

it comes down to it, I think the risks of separating off the K & E level students are too

great. If you use these kinds of projects that treat all the students as capable learners,

and teach sensitively and carefully, there’s no need to keep separating the students by

ability levels. And doing so just perpetuates the negative stereotypes about students

seen as weaker.”

“Agreed,” said Jacques Rancière. “Any such separation reinforces inequality.

Everyone is equally intelligent.”

Carl Honoré suggested, “But couldn’t it be argued that keeping this level of

classes separate frees the IOP students and teachers from the pressures of all the

standardization that still infect the diploma program and gives them a better

opportunity to form communities of slow learning?”

Annabelle Stanley pointed out that she had managed to run her inquiry project,

inclusively, despite these pressures.

Tony said, “But not everyone values the K & E kids like you do, Annabelle. I’ve

heard what other teachers say about these students. The separate classes, even the

vocational schools, give us a chance to focus on these kids, and make sure they are

taught well.”

John Dewey said, “Democracy is not just a political system. It is the practice of

association, the art of living, of conjoint communicative experience. I oppose any

divisions that severely limit the opportunity for students to practice association in its

plurality. However, students also need to have the opportunity to discover and realize

their aptitudes. It is tragic for students to be so unprepared for future eventualities

 448

that they fail to discover what they are good at, and end up engaging in occupations

that bring them little pleasure.441 If within a larger system of free association these

particular students who concern you are given greater access to some educational

experiences that are less restrictive, more connected to out-of-school experiences, and

where industrial themes enliven and enrich curriculum instead of narrowing it, I

cannot oppose that. I would hope that all students would receive these opportunities

but I cannot oppose efforts to offer this population of students integrated occupational

learning in this sense, as long as it does not mean their larger exclusion.”

Matthew Summit had made a very similar point, and I considered again how

Colleen Birdseye had characterized the now-closed vocational school she had worked

in as a democratic community, and how the students of that school had demonstrated

this by protesting its closure. With John Dewey’s pragmatic reply, which was

principled but also sort of on the fence, I counted two league members against

separate classes, and two league members more or less for them. “How can you even

work together if you can’t agree on something like this?” I asked.

“Because if the individuals that make up the system are always embracing the

values we’ve been discussing, that system will progress in a more democratic

direction. This issue may be more easily resolved in a more evolved system,” John

Dewey replied.

That seemed to settle the issue for now among the five of them, though I

thought Jacques Rancière looked unsatisfied. This sounded like too much of a leap of

faith to me too, and that thought brought me back to my original question. “Is simply

advocating for slow learning as a classroom practice good enough? There are still so

many things endangering slow learners,” and with that I rattled off the long list of all

441
Dewey, Democracy and Education, 317.
 449

the problems I’d observed on the case as the various league members nodded

sympathetically. Finally I came to my point. “There are three especially nasty villains

still on the loose, and each of them seems to have some sort relationship to the

governance of education. You seemed pretty handy when you rescued me, why can’t

we simply go after them directly, take as many of them as we can down for good; won’t

that do more for slow learners?”

“As I said,” asserted Jacques Rancière, “slow learning becomes political in the

way it interrupts the standard traffic of educational discourse, the sorting, the

competition, and the imposition of a top-down bureaucratic process at the expense of

respecting communities of learning. In insisting, by way of one’s own practice, on

considering the students intelligent, in insisting that their inquiries matter …”

“And by insisting that they be granted the time and space to learn from

experience, to learn by doing,” John Dewey added “you work to ensure that the

democratic community within the school offers the hope for democratic reform of the

larger system.”

“And you demand the right to be considered a community of intelligent

learners,” Jacques Rancière concluded.

We all took this in, and then John Dewey said, “These restrictions you object to

– the limiting graduation credential, the barriers you say standardized testing creates

for these students, and the stingy dispersal of resources – should be vigorously and

publicly opposed as policy, resisted when possible in practice, and co-operated with in

an un-endorsing way when absolutely necessary. But the emphasis needs to be on

making the conditions possible for the work of slow learning to happen on a daily

basis.”
 450

I thought this last statement was taking things a little too far. My prayer of

serenity, which I chose not to share just then, went a little differently. “Potentially

existing creator, I lack the foresight to know what I can and can’t change, so give me

the strength to keep on hammering until the walls start to break.” Nevertheless, I

thought I got the larger message.

A question suddenly occurred to me. “Why haven’t you haven’t recruited my

client yet?” I asked.

Carl Honoré replied, “Our network includes others that you’ve talked to, but

despite his sincere desire for inclusion, we fear John Williamson is more worried about

slow learners than slow learning. Our people are talking to him, trying to bring him

around, but he can’t be fully trusted with the work of The League until he makes this

leap. We are spreading the message of slow learning as much as we can, but The

League itself is still somewhat vulnerable.”

I told the five around the table with me that I thought I might be able to start

bringing him around, and asked if I could tell him a little about them, and maybe set

up some sort of way for him to contact one of them, at least so they could vet him

further if I thought he was ready. After some discussion, they agreed, I was given the

number of an untraceable cell phone to give to Williamson. That concluded our

business for the evening, unfortunately with no retaliatory assault on Shredder Man.

They drove me back to my car. There were four parking tickets on the frosty

windshield, but I was grateful it hadn’t been towed. I scraped the frost with the nearly

maxed-out credit card and drove back to my hotel. I noticed I wasn’t cold. I wondered

if it had kept warming up all day or if I was finally starting to get used to the weather.
 451

XXXV

It was before school, around the same time of day we’d initially met, when I

walked into Williamson’s Learning Centre. A student was sitting in a desk working,

probably using the room as a venue to complete a test he’d been unable to finish the

previous day, or maybe he’d missed it altogether and was making it up before school.

Williamson was at his cluttered desk. An open newspaper sat beside him and he was

reading something on his computer. He looked morose. I greeted him. His expression

changed to one of worry when he looked at the lump on my head. I assured him I was

fine and asked what he was looking at.

“Looks like Alberta Education just released another guidebook to K & E,”442 he

said quietly, on account of the student. “I found it on-line today.”

“Are there any changes?” I asked.

He scrolled back up to the beginning of the document on his computer. The title

page bore a picture of an intense-looking male teacher pointing at a spot on a partially

built wooden stool while a young man in a blue shirt raised a lever on a large

industrial drill.

“There are some new sections,” Williamson said. “It quotes heavily from

Inspiring Education. The authors describe how K & E is a part of a larger move of the

ministry towards a child-centered, inclusive education system, 443 they talk about

educating children to be Engaged, Ethical and Entrepreneurial. It mentions First

Nations, Metis and Inuit students, English Language Learners and students with

disabilities as students who might benefit from K & E, 444 if they meet the other

442
Alberta Education, Knowledge and Employability Courses Handbook (Edmonton: Crown in Right of
Alberta, 2013), http://education.alberta.ca/media/524889/ke_handbook.pdf.
443
Ibid., 16.
444
Ibid., 4.
 452

enrolment criteria. And the guidebook has links to further resources for working with

these students.”

The test-writing student gave us a dirty look. Williamson apologized to him. I

tried to talk more quietly.

“Does it say anything that’s different than previous guidelines about how K & E

should be run?” I asked.

“Not really,” he assessed. “It sort of sits on the fence about whether it should be

taught through segregated classes or blended classes, just like the 2008 version did.445

It gives case studies of successful K & E classes with both sorts of delivery models.

When describing the benefits of K & E, though, it talks about how students make

gains from being in smaller classes, with more hands-on learning and better

connections between the subjects of study and occupations. It reminds readers that K

& E students are funded 8/5 on the credit for K & E classes.446 I don’t remember that

being in the prior guidebook. Maybe that’s a hint that classes with K & E students

should be kept small, and that schools should invest more resources in these

students, seeing as how they are being funded at a higher rate. It specifically mentions

dual crediting, maybe reminding readers that K & E students are good candidates for

apprenticeship programs.”447

“That’s all good – right?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Williamson said. “It’s kind of underwhelming. No substantial

changes. It still pretty much says the program is for slow learners, without actually

using those words: low average IQ, history of academic failure, and so on. It still

distinguishes between the Certificate of Achievement and the High School Diploma,

445
Ibid., 31 – 33.
446
Ibid., 6.
447
Ibid., 11.
 453

though it does explain the transfer points for students who want to use K & E as a

stepping stone. The Certificate of Achievement is still on the books, and requirements

for it are basically the same.”448 He sounded defeated.

The student got out of his desk and brought Williamson his completed test.

Williamson affected a cheerful face, and told him he hoped the rest of his day went

well. Williamson went to the back office, placed the test in a filing cabinet, and

returned to the main room.

“Well at least there don’t seem to be any plans to cut K & E,” I noted. “You were

worried about that when you hired me. If efforts are being made to explain its

relevance to all of these other initiatives, it looks like Alberta Education still thinks

there’s a place for it.” I was surprised to hear myself sounding this optimistic.

“There’s still a place for a series of classes that very few students have any

interest in taking, that school districts and the ministry itself have little interest in

funding that heavily, and that post-secondary institutions have no interest in

honoring. And there have been no concrete steps spelled out about how to improve

classrooms for slow learners, outside of K & E. How progressive.” His voice rose

sarcastically as his spirits sank. I was glad the student wasn’t in the room to hear it.

“Weren’t you worried that K & E might be cut and not replaced with anything?”

I asked.

“I was, but I was also worried it would continue as it has been,” he said. Then a

thought seemed to occur to him, and he asked me why I had come to see him. Wasn’t I

supposed to be out on the case still?

“I’ve come because I can’t keep charging you for my work on this case. I’ve come

as close as I can right now to finding justice for slow learners,” I replied.

448
Ibid., 20.
 454

“How can that be?” he demanded. “What has been settled with K & E seems to

have been settled pretty uninspiringly. And there is no guarantee slow learners won’t

be forgotten, or at least undervalued again, in what remains to be settled in inclusive

education reform and education reform in general. How can you say you’ve found

anything to prevent slow learners from getting lost, as much as they currently are?”

“Let’s backtrack,” I suggested. “You hired me to look for slow learners.”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“We did a lot of searching through the annals of human classification and

educational classification. We learned that the label had its roots, at least in part, in

social class. We heard many negative stereotypes about slow learners. We learned that

slow learners don’t just appear, they appear in an educational system that predicts

and produces their appearance, that often excludes them from so-called regular

schooling opportunities even as it sets aside certain types of schooling, often

vocational schooling, for them. And as regards the label itself, what conclusion did we

reach?” I quizzed.

“Slow learners are complex learners,” Williamson replied quickly. We’d been

over this several times.

“Exactly. The label is a gathering and an oversimplification of a certain way of

failing to thrive in a restrictive educational system. That’s even tacitly acknowledged in

that list of categories of students you just said the new handbook suggests might

benefit from K & E, if they meet the other criteria of course. The slow learner label’s

only potential use is as a lens through which the ways of being more inclusive might

be magnified. Where did we decide to take the investigation after that?” I asked.

“To finding justice for slow learners,” Williamson replied.

 455

“Right. And at first I thought we’d do this by rooting out the injustices they

experience. If we could only identify all the barriers in the system that contribute to

their school failure, all the obstacles to their inclusion, then I thought we’d have a

chance of breaking down or getting around these barriers. But I could never see the

villains coming, and when they did come for me they were crafty and ruthless, I was

lucky to get away with my life. And I have no reason to believe there aren’t more

dangers out there.”

“Then how can you say you’re done with the investigation?” Williamson asked.

“Because these forces can be fought effectively, and are being fought largely

effectively, in classrooms all over the place,” I said.

“How?” Williamson asked.

“Through slow learning,” I said.

“What?” he asked, his face contorting in confusion.

I brought Williamson up to speed on all my adventures, even the parts I’d

withheld earlier. If I planned on leaving him with this, he needed to know everything I

had learned. He seemed especially interested when I got to the part about my

conversation with Hans and Martin in the cabin, and he made me repeat a lot of what

they said. He was a little envious, I think, and wanted to at least take in as much as

he could in vicariously. Finally I got to the most recent part of the quest. I told him

about my experience with Shredder Man, and how I’d used a rapid bit of slow learning

to extract myself. Then I’d told of how, coincidentally, I’d met The League of Slow

Learning. I explained about their work to Williamson, at least the parts they’d agreed

would be okay to share. At first, he had as much trouble as I did with “everyone is

equally intelligent”, but I did my best to explain why this was a useful way of thinking.

I explained about inquiring students, doing practical activities in supported learning

 456

communities, assisted by teachers who helped when needed and got out of the way

the rest of the time. I explained how slow learning was critical of the idea that there

were things the students couldn’t do, whether it was contributing to ambitious house-

building projects, or launching their own extensive inquiries of topics that were

supposed to be too hard for them to understand. I told him The League had persuaded

me that the promotion of these practices was the first thing that had to happen to

make things more just for slow learners, and I told him if he was interested, I could

provide information for him to contact them.

Williamson’s considered all of this and then hung his head in disappointment.

“Don’t you have anything more original, or more conclusive to suggest?” he asked. “As

we discussed when we last met, educators are already supposed to be using an

inquiry model of teaching, which sounds like it’s a big part of slow learning, and it has

been part of the conversation about how to plan curriculum and teach in public

schools for more than a hundred years.”

“I met someone who claimed to support inquiry, but only in the most restrictive

way possible,” I said. “Then he tried to have me shredded for taking things too far. I

met people whose obsessions with categorization and competition would be destructive

to the supportive learning communities this kind of work needs to happen in. They

seemed influential Maybe that’s why it isn’t going on as much as it might. But that’s

no excuse not to embrace it. You need to be hard-boiled in your determination for slow

learning, The League certainly was.”

“How do you even do slow learning?” Williamson asked. “You’ve only given me

two examples of what it looks like in classrooms, and the examples were very different

from each other.”

 457

“There is no exact method,” I admitted. “The League doesn’t even totally agree

on how to do it. It’s a set of principles, or a way of thinking, and one that is constantly

being revised.”

Williamson continued to look unconvinced. “You’ve spent most of your time on

this case rooting out current and present injustices slow learners face. How can you

claim that slow learning will be of any help with this when it doesn’t offer any direct

remedies? I hired you to fight these injustices, I told you how important this was to

me, and why.”

He was looking almost crushed now. I could understand that. He had seen the

harm that came from this label and other labels, and the restrictive practices they

unleashed firsthand, and had invested much of himself in trying to fight this. A lot

was at stake for him. I thought I’d have to explain myself carefully on this point. I

reminded him that we’d looked at some potentially helpful reforms. I told him I talked

to people who worked inside the curriculum area that I knew or suspected were

affiliated with The League, and who were advocating for conditions that supported

slow learning during this process. I told him that the teachers I’d met who embraced

slow learning seemed like the types to challenge injustices when they saw them, and

to fight to be able to teach in slow learning classrooms. Then I asked him, “What did

Colleen Birdseye tell you happened when they tried to shut down the IOP School?”

The students protested,” Williamson answered.

“Why?” I asked.

Williamson looked about to say something, but I answered my own question.

“Because, in part, they were taught to inquire, and they were given the time and space

to do so.” I moved on to explain how The League had felt that, in addition to

supporting slow learning, it was important to continue fighting the good fight on
 458

specific injustices like getting rid the K & E certificate and inviting students into a

more inclusive high school diploma stream, and ending or reducing the weight of

diploma exams, 449 or opening up a tier of instruction that led to the high school

diploma that didn’t require the exams. I said also that at least one member of The

League had questioned the need for any tiering practices whatsoever, and was unsure

why high school instruction was in the business of granting diplomas or certificates. I

said that underfunding was a concern that came up when I talked to many League

members. But then I got back to saying the most essential way to work for justice for

slow learners was to establish slow learning classrooms. I talked about how this might

move things forward from the ground up, how behaving like a democratic, slow-

learning community tended to reinforce the community’s will to demand the

conditions it thrived on. For good measure, I mentioned Jacques Rancière’s idea that

slowing down the traffic of things, occupying education spaces and actually using

them as educational spaces, was a political act.

Williamson didn’t say anything for a minute. He eventually said, “I still don’t

know if it that’s good enough.” But it sounded more like this was to get the last word

in. The statement didn’t have the same sort of heat on it the prior objections had. In

truth, I still wasn’t so sure either. Many aspects of the system remained hostile to slow

learners. But when things were at their most dangerous on the case, there always

seemed to be someone from The League nearby to lend a hand. But was it enough?

449
See Emily Metz, “Should Alberta diploma exams be worth less?” Global Calgary , November 4, 2014.
http://globalnews.ca/news/1653265/should-alberta-diploma-exams-be-worth-less/: and Lukaszuk for
Leader Campaign Office, “Lukaszuk’s proposes change to diploma exams, tax credit, and red tape
review,” Thomas (blog) August 12, 204, http://lukaszuk.ca/news-release-education/. There may be some
political will for this last change. The association of Alberta School divisions plan to vote on endorsing a
reduction of the weighting of diploma exams to 30% of students’ final grades and provincial MLA
Thomas Lukaszuk discussed lowering the weighting of exams both in 2012, when he was education
minister, and in 2014 during his unsuccessful bid to become premier.
 459

Williamson sighed resignedly and asked, “Did you at least figure out if I should

continue resisting blended classes in my school, or if they were actually the more just

approach for K & E students?”

“No, the committee couldn’t agree on that either,” I admitted. “But either way,

they did all feel the most important thing for the students was that the classrooms

they ended up in were slow learning classrooms.”

Like a new torrent of tears from an infant whose troubles his mother thought

she had finally soothed, Williamson appeared to think of something and his waning

suspicions seemed suddenly renewed. He asked, “Do you really think teachers will be

given the autonomy to run slow learning classrooms?” He held up a newspaper. “This

task force report about teaching excellence, initiated by the current Minister of

Education, just came out. It recommends much tighter regulation of the professional

development of teachers. If it goes through, teachers will have a lot less say about the

goals they want to pursue in order to become better teachers. Instead of reflecting on

their own practices and being given the freedom to take a few risks in how they might

approach teaching differently, they are more likely to be directed as to which goals

they need to pursue, and evaluated by principals about their success in achieving

these goals. In addition to the ongoing professional development that is already an

expectation, teachers would have to apply to be re-certified every five years. Do you

really think anyone will feel very compelled to take the risk of embracing slow learning

classrooms under this kind of surveillance? Does this really leave you feeling much

hope for the vision put forth in Inspiring Education, or the promise of those other

initiatives we discussed?”450

450
Alberta Teacher’s Association, “What the Task Force Got Wrong,” The ATA News, May 13, 2014, 4 –
6.
 460

These were pretty good questions. No wonder my client wasn’t in a trusting

mood just then. I hadn’t heard of this report before, indeed it seemed kind of late in

the case to be bringing it up, but I supposed it had just come out. I wondered if the

Shredder Man had influenced this task force report. “It’s ironic,” I agreed, “that even

as the Inspiring Education document talked about giving students more space to figure

things out for themselves, this report appears to be recommending teachers be given

less space to do the same thing. But that’s where you have to be courageous, and

know that there is a league to support you. It sounds bad but who knows, maybe if

some of this does go through, slow learning classrooms might actually produce the

sorts of results that would help teachers meet the targets they need to, even if the

proposed process is wrongheaded and belittling.”451

Williamson looked unconvinced. “More like teachers won’t even want slow

learners in their classrooms slowing the class down or pulling down their results, if

that’s how they think they are being evaluated.”

Finding my client’s suspicions, though well-founded, a bit petulant as well, I

decided the take the offensive. “How much attention do you give to slow learning in

the K & E classes you teach?” I asked him.

“Some, on some projects, but maybe not as deeply or as often as I could,”

Williamson said. “And it often goes well. But there’s stuff I really want them to know.

The ones who are upgrading to the high school diploma level courses especially. I feel

like I’m leaving too much to chance if I leave things too open-ended or give the

students too much choice. There’s things I feel I have to … download on them, or in

them, to really make sure they get it before their next courses.”

451
See Sharon Friesen, “Uncomfortable bedfellows: Discipline-based inquiry and standardized
examinations,” Teacher Librarian, 38 no. 1 (2010), 12. There is some evidence that schools using more
inquiry–based learning tend to have higher results on standardized testing.
 461

“And how much slow learning, and not in the deficient sense, do you see going

on in the projects from other teachers you help students with in your learning centre?”

“Same answer,” said Williamson.

“And in your role as a coordinator of diverse learning, how much time do you

spend talking with other teachers about his sort of thing?” I asked.

“Not as much as I’d like,” Williamson admitted. “The conversation usually

doesn’t get much further than the accommodations the students need, like making

sure the teacher knows a student should get a reader for tests if she asks for one, and

making the arrangements if she does request it, or encouraging teachers to send

students to my learning center if they need more support than the teacher can give

them just then.”

Williamson didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he said, “Yes, I could be

doing more. But how much can I really change things? I don’t even know if I will be

given K & E classes to teach next year. They are still talking about blending them. For

the classes I teach, when I’m not doing the coordinator stuff, I could just as easily be

assigned a regular English class, with a few K & E students in it.”

“But from what I can tell, slow learning was one of the best, most inclusive

ways of teaching in a blended classroom. And if that happens, that’s all the more

reason for you to embrace this philosophy yourself and push for it with other

teachers,” I insisted.

Williamson looked uncertain.

“There’s a contradiction here,” I said. “We’ve been asking every question we can

think of, really taking our time to get to the bottom of this case, checking out every

lead, looking at it from every angle. It’s been a slow learning kind of investigation, and

we’ve learned a lot. You’ve been like a dog on a bone with this, but you have not fully
 462

embraced this same philosophy to use and promote in your school with the students

you are most worried about. Isn’t that the place to start?”

Williamson took this all in for what seemed like a long time. “I guess I’m a slow

learner,” he finally said, and smiled a little. He asked me how to get a hold of The

League so he could begin a conversation with them, and I gave him the information. A

bell rang, and a few kids started wandering into the learning center. Out of habit, I

wondered which ones were slow learners but then I thought, “All of them one day,

hopefully.”

“Am I ready for this?” Williamson asked.

“Ready, enough. You started this inquiry in the first place. And you’ve been

guiding it all the way with your annoying questions. That’s got to count for

something.”

Then Williamson stuck out his hand, and I shook it, and he thanked me for my

work. Then he said, “The school business manager isn’t going to be too happy with

me, but I guess we need to go see her and settle up.”

I felt an impulse that often comes to me at the end of cases, and tried to fight it.

My rent, after all, was overdue. It was no good, I couldn’t help myself. “Save it,” I said,

raising my hand like I was refusing dessert in a restaurant, “It’s been an education.”
 463

References

Alberta Apprenticeship and Industry Training, “Updated Entrance Requirements.”

Tradesecrets. Accessed October 31, 2014.

http://tradesecrets.alberta.ca/SOURCES/PDFS

/Entrance_Requirements.pdf.

Alberta Education. Accountability Pillar Results for Annual Education Results Reports

(AERR). Edmonton: Alberta Education, 2008, 2009, 2010.

_______________. “Certificate of School Completion.” Alberta Education – Supporting

Every Student. Accessed November 2, 2014. http://www.education.alberta.ca/

admin/ supportingstudent/schoolleaders/certificate.aspx.

_______________. Diversity in Alberta schools: A journey to inclusion. Alberta Education,

2012. YouTube video, 5:49. Posted by “Inspiring Education.” January 13,

2012, https://www.youtube.com /watch?v=8c-3YCr7zR0.

_______________. English Language Arts Grades 10 – 12 (2003).

http://education.alberta.ca/media/645805/srhelapofs.pdf.

____________. Focusing on Success Teaching Students with Attention

Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder Edmonton: Government of Alberta, 2006.

____________. Funding Manual for School Authorities 2014/2015 school year.

Edmonton: Crown in Right of Alberta, 2013. http://education.alberta.ca/

media/8315464/funding%20manual%20for%20school%

20authorities%202014-2015%20school%20year%20v.2.pdf.

____________. General Information Bulletin Diploma Examinations Program. Edmonton:

Alberta Education, 2013.

 464

_____________. “High School Flexibility Enhancement Pilot,” Alberta Education. (2011).

http://ideas.education.alberta.ca/hsc/current-projects/flexibility

-enhancement-pilot/.

_____________. Information Manual for Knowledge and Employability Courses.

Edmonton: Alberta Education Curriculum Branch, 2008.

http://education.alberta.ca/ media/524889/infomanual.pdf.

______________. IOP Occupational Component 16–26–36. Edmonton: Crown in Right of

Alberta, 1992.

______________. Inspiring Education: A Dialogue with Albertans. Edmonton: Alberta

Education, 2009.

____________. Integrated Occupational Program: Manual for Administrators, Counsellors

and Teachers: Interim 1989. Edmonton: Crown in Right of Alberta, 1989.

https://archive.org/stream/integrateoccupation89albe#page/14/mode/2up.

_____________. Knowledge and Employability Courses Handbook. Edmonton: Crown in

Right of Alberta, 2013. http://education.alberta.ca/media

/524889/ke_handbook.pdf.

______________. Making a Difference: Meeting Diverse needs with Differentiated

Instruction. Edmonton: The Crown in Right of Alberta, 2011.

http://education.alberta.ca/media/1234045/makingadifference_2010.pdf.

______________. Moving Toward an Inclusive Education System in Alberta. Alberta

Education, 2010. http://education.alberta.ca/media/

1296822/inclusiveeducationfacts.pdf.

_______________. Pathways to Possibilities: The Revised Career and Technology Studies

Program. Edmonton: Government of Alberta, 2010.

 465

_____________. Provincially Authorized Senior High School Courses and Course Codes

including K–12 Withdrawn Courses and Programs. Edmonton: Alberta

Education, 2014.https://education.alberta.ca/media/9118204/

coursecodes2014.pdf.

____________. Report on Consultation for Policy Change. Edmonton: Alberta Education,

2004.

____________. Setting the Direction for Special Education in Alberta: A Review of the

Literature. Edmonton: Alberta Education, 2009.

____________. The Journey: A Handbook for Parents of Children Who Are Gifted and

Talented. Edmonton: Crown in Right of Alberta, 2004.

_____________. Setting the Direction Towards a System Re-design. Edmonton: Alberta

Education, 2009.

_____________. Alberta Education, Selecting Accommodations and Strategies. Edmonton:

Government of Alberta, 2006.

______________. Report on Severe Disabilities Profile Review. Edmonton: Alberta

Education, 2008.

_______________. Setting the Direction Framework. Edmonton: Alberta Education, 2009.

http://education.alberta.ca/media/1082136

/sc_settingthedirection_framework.pdf.

________________. Social Studies Kindergarten to Grade 12, 2005.http://www.

education.alberta.ca/media/773701/soc10.pdf.

_________________. Special Education Coding Criteria. Edmonton: Government of

Alberta, 2012.
 466

____________. Standards for special education. Edmonton: Government of Alberta,

2004.

Alberta Government. “Flex approach to high school learning.” Announcements Alberta

Government. (May 8, 2013). http://alberta.ca/release.cfm?xID=341238504029D-

A50B-79D1-9FDDF8BE88D30867.

Alberta Teachers’ ssociation, “McQueen wonders why Hancock would ‘dumb down’

diploma examinations” Eye on the Legislature Alberta Teacher’s Association.

http://www.teachers.ab.ca/news%20Room/EyeOnTheLegislature

/Highlights%20from%20the%20Assembly/2009/Fall2009/Pages/29-Oct-

2009.aspx.

Alberta Teachers’ Association, “What the Task Force Got Wrong,” The ATA News. May

13, 2014, 4 – 6.

Allan, Julie. “Excluding Research” in Rethinking Inclusive Education: The Philosophers

of Difference in Practice. Edited by Julie Allan. 43 – 52. Dordrecht: Springer,

2008.

American Philosophical Society, “Eugenics Tree Logo” in Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory

http://www.dnalc.org/view/10229-Eugenics-tree-logo.html.

Andrews, Jonathan, Briggs, Asa, Porter, Roy, Tucker, Penny and Addington, Kier. The

History of Bethlem. London: Routledge, 1997.

Aoki, Ted T. “Legitimating lived curriculum: Towards a curricular landscape of\

multiplicity,” Journal of Curriculum and Supervision 8 no.3. (1993): 255 –\

268.

Armstrong, Felicity. “The Historical Development of Special Education: Humanitarian

Rationality or ‘Wild Profusion of Entangled Events,’” History of Education. 31,

no. 5, (2002): 437 – 456. doi 10.1080/004676002101533627.

 467

Being There. Directed by Hal Ashby. 1979, United States: United Artists, 2009. DVD.

Boyne, Roy. Foucault and Derrida: The Other Side of Reason. London: Routledge,

1990.

Buck 65, “50 Gallon Drum” from Talking Honky Blues, Warner Brothers, 2003, MP3

file downloaded May 5, 2012 iTunes.

Binet, Alfred and Simon, T.H. The Intelligence of the Feebleminded, translated by

Elizabeth S. Kite. Baltimore: Williamson and Wilkins, 1916.

Bishop, Claire. “Conversations with Jacques Rancière Part 1,” Teachers College,

Columbia University, (podcast). June 13, 2013https://itunes.apple.com

/us/itunes-u/conversations-jacques-ranciere/id395710538?mt=10.

Blatt, Burton and Kaplan, Fred. Christmas in Purgatory: A Photographic Essay on

Mental Retardation. New York: Human Policy Press, 1974.

Bloom, Benjamin S. Taxonomy of Educational Objectives. Boston: Allyn and Bacon,

1984.

Burgess, May. “Identifying Reading Disabilities: Why Discrepancy-Based Definitions

Don’t Work.” PhD diss., University of Toronto, 1990.

Brignell, Victoria. “The eugenics movement Britain wants to forget.” The New

Statesman (December 9, 2010). http://www.newstatesman.com/

society/2010/12/british-eugenics-disabled.

______________. When America believed in eugenics.” The New Statesman (December

10, 2010). http://www.newstatesman.com/society/ 2010/12/disabled-

america-immigration.

Calgary Board of Education, Advanced Placement. Calgary: CBE Program Renewal

and Media Services, 2004.

 468

Central Alberta Regional Consortium. Calgary Regional Consortium Annual Report.

[2009?].http://www.carcpd.ab.ca/about/reports/archiveDocs/CARC%2008.09

%20Annual%20Report%20APPROVED.pdf.

Camus, Albert. The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays. Translated by Justin O’Brien.

New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1983.

Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching. FAQs: What is the Carnegie

Unit?” Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching.

http://www.carnegiefoundation.org/faqs.

Caputo, John D. Truth: Philosophy in Transit. London: Penguin, 2013.

Chandler, Raymond. Farewell My Lovely. New York: Ballantine, 1940.

_________________. The Big Sleep. New York: First Vintage Crime / Black Lizard

Edition, 1992.

_________________. The Lady in the Lake, in The Raymond Chandler Omnibus. New

York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1964), Project Gutenberg Canada.

http://www.gutenberg.ca/ebooks/chandlerr-ladyinthelake/ chandlerr-

ladyinthelake-00-h.htm.

________________. “The Simple Art of Murder an Essay.” in The Simple Art of Murder.

New York: Vintage, 1950.

Chauhan, Sangeeta. “Slow Learners: their Psychology and Educational Programs.”

Zenith International Journal of Multidisciplinary Research.1, No. 8. (December

2011): 279 – 289.htp://www.zenithresearch.org.in/

images/stories/pdf/2011/Dec/zijmr/22_VOL%201 _ISSUE8_ZEN.pdf.
 469

Claypool, Tim., Murusiak, T. Christopher, and Janzen, Henry. “Ability and

Achievement Variables in Average, Low Average, and Borderline Students.”

Alberta Journal of Educational Research 54 no. 4 (winter 2008): 432-447.

Cleugh, M.F. The Slow Learner: Some Educational Principles and Policies. Aberdeen:

The University Press, 1957.

Climenhaga, David J. “Alberta Tories respond to protests by disabled citizens with

instinctive diversionary attack.” Rabble.ca: News for the rest of us. (2012).

http://rabble.ca/blogs/bloggers/djclimenhaga/2013/06/alberta-tories

-respond-to-protests-disabled-citizens-instinctive.

Columbo’s Great Investigative Style,” 4:33, YouTube video, from the Universal TV

television episode “Death Hits the Jackpot,” televised December 15, 1991,

posted by stndrds 1979, https://www.youtube.com/

watch?v=pZiv8vkxMac&spfreload=10.

Couture, J.C. “Inclusion—Alberta’s educational palimpsest.” ATA Magazine 92, no. 3

(Mar. 5, 2012): 54.

Costa, Art L and Kallick, Bena. Learning and Leading With Habits of Mind: 16 Essential

Characteristics for Success. Alexandria: Association for Supervision and

Curriculum Development, 2008.

Davey, Nicholas P. Unquiet Understanding: Gadamer’s Philosophical Hermeneutics.

Albany: State University of New York Press, 2006.

Davis, Lennard J. Bending over Backwards: Dismodernism and Other Difficult

Positions. New York: New York University Press 2002.

__________. “Constructing Normalcy: The Bell Curve, the Novel and the Invention of the

Disabled Body in the Nineteenth Century.” in The Disability Studies Reader,

edited by Lennard J. Davis. 3 – 16. New York: Routledge, 2006.

 470

Derrida, Jacques. Of Grammatology. Translated by Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak.

Baltimore: John’s Hopkins University Press, 1974.

____________. “The Villanova Roundtable: A Conversation with Jacques Derrida.” in

Deconstruction in a Nutshell. Edited by John D. Caputo. 1 – 27. New York:

Fordham University Press, 1997.

Dewey, John. Democracy and Education: A Penn State Electronic Classics Series

Publication. Pennsylvania State University, 2001.

www2.hn.psu.edu/faculty/jmanis/johndewey/dem-ed.pdf.

_________. Dewey on Education: Selections. Edited by Martin M. Dworkin. New York:

Teacher’s College Press, 1959.

Doyle, William. The Oxford History of the French Revolution. New York: Oxford

University Press, 2002.

Dudley-Marling, Curt and Gurn, Alex. The Myth of the Normal Curve. New York: Peter

Lang, 2010.

Dumont, Mikey. “Student conquers illiteracy with tenacity: Her calling card is `stick

-to-it-ness,' says teacher.” Calgary Herald, June 11, 2000.

“Dragnet – The Big Winchester,” YouTube video, 25:57, from the NBC television

episode first broadcast by March 4, 1954, posted by mytvmemories, January

18, 2012, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4jU-9.

Ellis, Norma A. “Teaching Geometry to Slow Learners.” Master’s thesis, University of

Calgary, 1986.

Erevelles, Nirmala. “Rewriting critical pedagogy from the periphery: Materiality,

disability and the politics of schooling.” in Disability Studies in Education:

Readings in Theory and Method, edited by Susan Gabel, 65 – 84. New York:

Peter Lang, 2005.

 471

Fijal, Gerry. High School Flexibility Enhancement Pilot Project 2010/2011 School Year.

Edmonton: Government of Alberta, 2011.

https://ideas.education.alberta.ca/media/63873/2010-2011year-

end_report.pdf.

_________. High School Flexibility Enhancement Pilot Project-A Summary Report.

Edmonton: Alberta Government, 2013. https://ideas.education.alberta.ca/

media /78910/hsepp_report_2013final.pdf.

Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish. Translated by Alan Sheridan. New York:

Vintage: 1995.

___________. Madness and Civilization A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason.

Translated by Richard Howard. New York: Vintage, 1988.

____________. “On the Genealogy of Ethics: An Overview of Work in Progress” in Ethics

Subjectivity and Truth: the Essential Works of Michel Foucault 1954-1984

Volume One. Edited by Paul Rabinow. New York, The New Press, 1997. 253 –

280.

_____________. “Prisons et asiles dans le mécanisme du pouvoir” In Dits et Ecrits

Volume II. Foucault Paris: Gallimard, 1974. Translated by Clare O'Farrell.

http://www.michel-foucault.com/quote/2004q.html.

______________. “Psychiatric Power” in Michel Foucault: Ethics Subjectivity and Truth.

Edited by Paul Rabinow. Translated by Robert Hurley. 39 – 50. New York: The

New Press, 1997.

____________. “The Abnormals” in Michel Foucault Ethics Subjectivity and Truth. Edited

by Paul Rabinow. Translated by Robert Hurley. New York: The New Press,

1997. 51 – 58.
 472

____________. The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the Human Sciences. Translated

by Tavistock Publications. New York: Random House, 1994.

Forrest Gump. Directed by Robert Zemeckis. 1994, United States: Paramount, 2001.

DVD.

Friesen, Sharon. ”Uncomfortable Bedfellows: Discipline-based Inquiry and

Standardized Examinations.” Teacher Librarian, 38 no. 1 (2010): 8 – 14.

Gadamer, Hans-Georg. “Letter to Dallmayr,” in Dialogue and Deconstruction: The

Gadamer Derrida Encounter. Edited by Diane P. Michelfelder and Richard E.

Palmer. New York: State University of New York Press, 1989.

______________. “The Idea of the University – Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow” in Hans-

Georg Gadamer on Education, Poetry, and History: Applied Hermeneutics. Edited

by Dieter Misgeld and Graeme Nicholson. 59 – 61. Translated by Lawrence

Schmidt and Monica Reuss. Albany: SUNY, 1986.

___________________. The Enigma of Health: The art of Healing in a Scientific Age.

Translated by Jason Gainer and Nicholas Walker. Stanford: Stanford University

Press, 1996.

____________________. “The Limitations of the Expert.” in Hans-Georg Gadamer On

Education, Poetry, and History: Applied Hermeneutics. Edited by Dieter Misgeld

and Graeme Nicholson.65 – 80. Translated by Lawrence Schmidt and Monica

Reuss Albany: SUNY, 1986.

____________________. Truth and Method: Second Revised Edition. Translated by Joel

Weinsheimer and Donald G. Marshall. New York: Continuum, 1989.

Galton, Francis. Hereditary Genius. New York: D. Appleton and Co., 1870.

http://www.mugu.com/galton/books/hereditary-genius/text/pdf/galton-1869-

genius-v3.pdf.
 473

Gega, Stela. “Sir Francis Galton.” History of Psychology Archives (2000):

http://www.muskingum.edu/~psych/psycweb/history/galton.htm.

Gilham, Chris and Williamson, W. John. “ Inclusion’s Confusion in Alberta,”

International Journal of Inclusive Education, (July 2013).

doi:10.1080/13603116.2013.802025.

Goddard, Henry Hebert. The Kallikak Family: A Study of the Heredity of Feeble-

Mindedness. New York: MacMillan, 1912. http://readingroom.law.gsu.edu/cgi/

viewcontent.cgi?article=1006&context=buckvbell.

Goddard, Henry Herbert. Psychology of the Normal and Subnormal. 1919; reprint.

London: Forgotten Books, 2013.

Goodrich, Peter. “J.D.” Cordozo Law Review 27 no. 2 (2005): 801 – 814.

Gould, Stephen J. The Mismeasure of Man, Revised and Expanded Edition. New York:

W.W. Norton, 1996.

Government of Alberta. “Building Alberta: Budget 2013 Keeps the Focus on Students.”

Announcements Alberta Government .http://alberta.ca/release.cfm?xID=

3378046B3A890-A09D-D222-DB9B59897D97B1AF.

__________________. Funding manual for school authorities 2011/2012 School Year.

Edmonton: Crown in Right of Alberta, 2011.

Graham, Cameron and Neu, Dean. “Standardized Testing and the Construction of

Governable Persons.” Journal of Curriculum Studies, 36 no. 3 (2009): 295-319.

doi:10.1080/0022027032000167080.

Graham, Linda J. and Jahnukainen, Markku. “Wherefore Art Thou, Inclusion?

Analyzing the Development of Inclusive Education in New South Wales, Alberta

and Finland.” Journal of Educational Policy. 26 no. 2 (2011): 263-288. doi:

10.1080/02680939.2010.493230.
 474

Grondin, Jean. Introduction to Philosophical Hermeneutics. Translated by Joel

Weinsheimer. New Haven: Yale, 1994.

Hall, John T. Social Devaluation and Special Education: The Right to Full Inclusion and

an Honest Statement. London: Jessica Kingsley, 1997.

Hamilton, Cynthia. Western and Hard - Boiled Detective Fiction in America from High

Noon to Midnight Volume 3. Hong Kong: University of Iowa Press, 1987.

Hammet, Dashiell. The Maltese Falcon. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1930.

Harders Consulting. Report on the Bev Facey Composite High School Academic

Occupational Program and Courses. Edmonton: Alberta Education, 1983.

Harrison, Robert. “Martin Heidegger in conversation with Andrew Mitchell. Entitled

Opinions (About Life and Literature) (2005). Audio podcast.

http://www.apple.com/itunes/store.

Heidegger, Martin. Being and Time. Translated by J. Macquarrie and E. Robinson. New

York, Harper Collins, 1962.

_____________. ”Heidegger on Marx” YouTube video, 1:34 from im Denken Unterwegs,

directed by Walter Rüdel and Richard Wisser. Baden-Baden: Südwestfunk,

1975. Posted by Eidos84,July 11, 2011. http://www.youtube.com/

playlist?list=PLAC163ED7E89D0F6D.

______________. “Letter on Humanism” in Martin Heidegger Basic Writings from Being

and Time to the Task of Thinking. 239 – 276. Translated by Frank A. Capuzzi,

Edited by David Farrel Krell. London: Routledge, 1978.

_______________. "On the Origin of the Work of Art" in Martin Heidegger Basic Writings

From Being and Time to the Task of Thinking. 139 - 212. Translated by Frank A.

Capuzzi, Edited by David Farrel Krell. London: Routledge, 1978.

 475

________________. “The Question Concerning Technology” in in Martin Heidegger Basic

Writings from Being and Time to the Task of Thinking. 308 - 341. Translated

by Frank Capuzzi, Edited by David Farrel Krell. London: Routledge, 1978.

_________________. What is Called Thinking? Translated by J. Glenn Gray. New York:

Harper Colophon, 1968.

Hancock, Dave. “Are Diploma Exams Fair to Students?” Speak Out: Student

Engagement Initiative. May 5, 2010.

http://www.speakout.alberta.ca/Blog/tabid/59/EntryID/423/Default.aspx.

Honoré, Carl. Carl Honoré (blog). http://www.carlhonore.com/.

___________. In Praise of the Slow: How a Worldwide Movement is Challenging the Cult

of Speed. Toronto: Vintage Canada, 2004.

____________.“In Praise of Slowness” TED video. Filmed July 2005. 19:14.

http://www.ted.com/talks/carl_honore_praises_slowness.

Illich, Ivan. Limits to Medicine. Medical Nemesis: The Expropriation of Health. London:

Marion Boyars, 1975.

Jackson, Ronald. Classic Television Action, Crime & Adventure A Pictorial History

Bloomington: Author House, 2014.

Jardine, David W. “On the While of things.” Journal of the American Association for

Advancement of Curriculum Studies 4 (2008):7.

http://www2.uwstout.edu/content/jaaacs/vol4/jardine.pdf.

______________. “The Descartes Lecture” Journal of Applied Hermeneutics. (2012)

http://jah.synergiesprairies.ca/jah/index.php/jah/article/view/27/pdf.

Johnson, G.O. Education for the Slow Learners. New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1963.

Kambitsch, Patricia. “What is Slow Learning?” Adventures in Slow Learning (blog).

Accessed November 28, 2011. http://slowlearning.org/.

 476

King, Erin. “FAQ Parents ask about Struggling (Slow) Learners.” School psychologist

files. Accessed October. 19, 2014. http:// schoolpsychologistfiles.com/

slowlearnerfaq/.

Klassen, Robert M., Neufeld, Paul and Munro, Fiono. “When IQ is Irrelevant to the

Definition of Learning Disabilities: Australian School Psychologists’ Beliefs and

Practice. School Psychology International 26 no.3 (2005): 297 – 316. doi

10.1177/0143034305055975.

Klein, Naomi. No Logo: Taking Aim at Brand Name Bullies. Toronto: Vintage, 2000.

Knobbe, Jo Anne. The Inception of the Junior Vocational Program in Calgary public

schools” Master’s thesis, University of Calgary, 1978.

Knoff, Howard M. “Slow learner” in Encyclopedia of Special Education: A Reference for

the Education of the Handicapped and Other Exceptional Children and Adults.

Edited by Cecile R. Reynolds and Elaine Fletcher-Janzen. Hoboken: John Wiley

and Sons, 2007.

Korsgard, Christine M. “The Right to Lie: Kant and Dealing with Evil.” Philosophy and

Public Affairs 15, no. 4 (1986): 325-349. http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-

3:HUL.InstRepos:3200670.

Loss, Catherine Gavin and Loss, Christopher P. “Progressive Education – Philosophical

Foundations, Pedagogical Progressivism, Administrative Progressivism, Life-

Adjustment Progressivism” Education Encyclopedia State University.com.

http://education.stateuniversity.com/pages/2336/Progressive-

Education.html#ixzz3AOYWZc1T.

Lukaszuk for Leader Campaign Office, “Lukaszuk’s proposes change to diploma

exams, tax credit, and red tape review.” Thomas (blog). August 12, 204.
 477

Mathew, Norman. “Industrial education in Alberta its evolution and development,

1968-1982.” Master’s thesis, University of Alberta, 1984.

Mehan, Hugh, Herweck, Alma and Meihls, J. Lee. Handicapping the Handicapped:

Decision Making in Students’ Educational Careers. Stanford: Stanford University

Press, 1986.

Meaghan, Diane E. and. Casas, François R. “Bias in standardized testing and the

misuse of test scores: Exposing the Achilles heel of educational reform” in

Passing the Test The False Promises of Standardized Testing. Edited by Marita

Moll. 35- 50. Ottawa: The Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives, 2004.

Melnyk, Tracy. “The English 30-1 Diploma Exam: Assessment Practices and

Pedagogy.” Master’s thesis, University of Alberta, 2012.

Metz, Emily. “Should Alberta diploma exams be worth less?” Global Calgary. November

4, 2014. http://globalnews.ca/news/1653265 /should-alberta-diploma-exams-be

-worth-less.

McGinnis, Sarah. “Trade school may be shut,” The Calgary Herald, February 17, 2010.

Miller, David. “Play.” Dr. Anne Galloway. (2003). http://www.purselipsquarejaw.org

/2003/11/play.php.

Moules, Nancy J. “Hermeneutic inquiry: Paying heed to history and Hermes – An

ancestral, Substantive, and Methodological Tale.” International Journal of

Qualitative Methods 1, no. 2: (2002). http://ejournals.library.ualberta.ca/

index.php/IJQM/article/view/4597/3750.

Noll, Steven. Feeble Minded in Our Midst: Institutions for the Mentally Retarded in the

South 1900 -1940. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1995.
 478

Nietzsche, Frederick. Daybreak: Thoughts on the Prejudices of Morality. Translated by

R.J. Hollindare. Edited by Maudmarie Clark and Brian Leiter.

Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1997.

Nyberg, V.R. Executive Summary Evaluation of the Academic Vocational Program of the

County of Leduc. Edmonton: Alberta Education, 1984.

Orwell, George. 1984. Bungay: Penguin, 1976.

Pinar, William F., Reynolds, William M., Slattery, P. and Taubman, Peter M.

“Understanding Curriculum: A Post script for the Next Generation.” in

Understanding Curriculum: An Introduction to the Study of Historical and

Contemporary Curriculum Discourses, edited by William Pinar. 847 – 866. New

York: Peter Lang, 2008.

Plato. Theaetetus. Translated by Benjamin Jowett. (2013). Kindle edition.

Porter, Roy. Madness: A Brief History. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002.

Rancière, Jacques. "Ten Thesis on Politics." in Theory & Event. Translated by Rachel

Bowlby. 5 No. 3 (2001). http://www.egs.edu/faculty/jacques-

ranciere/articles/ten-thesis-on-politics.

__________________. The Ignorant Schoolmaster: Five Lessons in Intellectual

Emancipation. Translated by Kristan Ross. Stanford: Stanford University Press,

1981.

Reddy, G.L, Ramar, R., and Kusama , A. Slow learners: Their Psychology and

Instruction. New Delhi: Discovery Publishing House, 2006.

Rice, Nancy. “Teacher education as a Site of Resistance.” in Vital Questions Facing

Disability Studies in Education. Edited by Scott Danforth and Susan. L. Gabel.

17 – 32. New York: Peter Lang, 2006.

 479

Rosenberg, Robin S. “Abnormal is the New Normal Why Will Half the U.S. population

Have a Diagnosable Mental Disorder.” Slate Magazine. April 12, 2013.

http://www.slate.com/articles/health_and_science/medical_examiner/2013/0

4/ diagnostic_and_statistical_manual_fifth_edition_

why_will_half_the_u_s_population.html.

Ross, Elsie. “Parents, Students Rap Vocational Plan.” The Calgary Herald. February

20, 1989.

Ruttan, Susan. “Axe Posed Over Vocational Schools.” The Calgary Herald. October 2,

1992.

SAIT Polytechnic, “About SAIT,” SAIT Polytechnic, accessed November 30, 2013,

http://www.sait.ca/about-sait.php.

Sasso, Gary M. “The retreat from inquiry and knowledge in special education.” The

Journal of Special Education., 34 no.4. 178 – 193. doi:

10.1177/002246690103400401

Sears, E.P. “Van Horne Kids at Risk to Fall Through the Cracks.” Calgary Herald,

March 15, 2010.

Schmid, David. “Manhood, Modernity and Crime Fiction.” In A Concise Companion to

American Fiction 1900 – 1950, edited by Peter Stoneley and Cindy Weinstein.

94 - 112. Oxford: Blackwell, 2008.

Schielke, Donald James. “The Integrated Occupational Program: Effective Intervention

for At -Risk Students?” PhD dissertation, Arizona State University 1991.

Scull, Andrew. The Most Solitary of Afflictions: Madness and Society in Britain 1700

–1900. New Haven & London: Yale University Press; 1993.

 480

Shaw, Robert R. “Rescuing Students from the Slow Learner Trap.” Principal

Leadership, 10, no.6, (2010): 12-16.

http://www.nassp.org/Content/158/PLFeb10_StudentServ.pdf.

Simpson, Murry K. “Othering intellectual disability: Two models of classification from

the 19th Century.” Theory Psychology 22 no. 5 (2012): 541 - 555. doi

10.1177/0959354310378375.

Skytt, Jaqeuline. “Government leaves IOP high and dry.” ATA News. 36 no.17 (April 9,

2002). http://www.teachers.ab.ca/Publications/ATA%20News/

Volume%2036/Number%2017/In%

20the%20News/Pages/Government%20leaves%20IOP%20high%20and%20dry.

aspx.

Sleeter, Christine E. Why Is There Learning Disabilities? A Critical Analysis of the

Birth of the Field in Its Social Context” in The Formation of School Subjects: The

Struggle for Creating an American Institution, edited by T.S. Popkewitz. 210-237.

London: Palmer Press, 1987.

Slomp, David H. “Harming not helping: The impact of a Canadian standardized writing

assessment on curriculum and pedagogy,” Assessing Writing 13 no.2 (2008):

184: doi: 10.1016/j.asw.2008.10.004.

Smart Ass Cripple. “A Burden to Society.” Smart Ass Cripple. (January 30, 2012)

http://smartasscripple.blogspot.ca/2012/01/burden-to-society.html.

______________. “Coulda beena borted,” Smart Ass Cripple. (July 2, 2012).

http://smartasscripple.blogspot.ca/2012/07/coulda-beena-borted.html.

_______________. “The Feeble Minded Football League,” Smart Ass Cripple. (January 23,

2012). http://smartasscripple.blogspot.ca/2012/01/feeble-minded-football-

league.html.
 481

________________. “Oprah’s death squads.” Smart Ass Cripple. (Jan. 21, 2011):

http://smartasscripple.blogspot.ca/2011_01_21_archive.html.

_________________. “Where’s the keeper?” Smart Ass Cripple. (Sep. 14, 2012):

http://smartasscripple.blogspot.ca/2012/09/wheres-keeper.html.

Smith, Phil. “Introduction: Whatever Happened to Inclusion: The Place of Students

with Intellectual Disabilities in Education.” in Whatever Happened to Inclusion:

The Place of Students with Intellectual Disabilities in Education, edited by Phil

Smith, 1 - 20. New York: Peter Lang, 2010.

Spaulding, Lucinda S. and. Keith, Deanna L. “The History of Special Education:

Lessons from the Past, Implications for the Future.” Faculty Publications and

Presentations, Paper 158

(2010). http://digitalcommons.liberty.edu/educ_fac_pubs/158

Stewart, Margaret. “The Perils of Testing” in Passing the Test: The False Promises Of

Standardized Testing. Edited by Marita Moll. 177 – 181. Ottawa: The Canadian

Centre for Policy Alternatives, 2004.

Stiker, Henri-Jacques. A History of Disability. Translated by W. Sayer. Ann Arbor:

University of Michigan, 2002.

Task Force on DSM IV. Diagnostic Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders fourth edition

text revision. Washington: American Psychiatric Association, 2000.

Taylor, Allison and Lehmann, Wolfgang. ''Reinventing'' Vocational Education Policy:

Pitfalls and Possibilities.” Alberta Journal of Educational Research 48, no. 2

(2002): 139 – 161.

Taylor, Frederick Winslow. The Principles of Scientific Management. New York: Harper

and Brothers, 1919.

 482

Terman, Lewis, M. The Hygiene of the School Child. 1914; Reprint, London: Forgotten

Books, 2013.

Tulgan, Bruce. Not Everyone Gets A Trophy: How to Manage Generation Y. San

Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2009.

Turabian, Kate. A Manual for Writers of Research Papers, Theses, and Dissertations,

Eighth Edition: Chicago Style for Students and Researchers. Revised by Wayne

C. Booth, Gregory G. Colomb, Joseph M. Williams, and the University of

Chicago Press Staff. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2013.

The Kids are All Right. Directed by Kerry Richardson. 2005, Chicago: The Paul

Robeson Fund for Independent Media, 2005. DVD

Thompson, Hunter S. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart

of the American Dream. New York: Second Vintage Books, 1998.

Tremain, Shelley “Foucault, “Governmentality, and Critical Disability Theory: An

Introduction.” Foucault and the Government of Disability ed. Shelly Tremain. 1 –

26. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2008.

Vilhauer, Monica. Gadamer’s ethics of play: Hermeneutics and the Other. Toronto:

Rowman and Littlefield, 2010.

Wahlsten, Douglas. “Leilani Muir versus the Philosopher King: Eugenics on trial in

Alberta.” Genetica, 99 (1997): 185 – 198.

Walker, W. Lundsen. “Emotional Problems of the Slow Learning Child.” Edited by Roy

Brown. The Assessment and Education of Slow Learning Children. London:

]University of London Press, 1967.

Weber, Ken. Yes They Can: A Practical Guide for Teaching the Adolescent Slow Learner.

Toronto: Methuen, 1974.

 483

Weinsheimer, Joel and Marshall, Donald G. translators preface to Truth and Method:

Second Revised Edition by Hans-Georg Gadamer. Translated by Joel

Weinsheimer and Donald G. Marshall. xi – xx. New York: Continuum, 1989

Weisstein, Eric W. “Young Girl-Old Woman Illusion.” MathWorld –A Wolfram Web

Resource. Accessed September 3, 2014.

http://mathworld.wolfram.com/YoungGirl-OldWomanIllusion.html.

Wheat, Leonard F. Hegel’s Undiscovered Thesis-Antithesis-Synthesis Dialectic What

Only Marx and Tillich Understood. New York: Dover, 2012.

Wilkins, Gloria and Miller, Susan. Strategies for Success: An Effective Guide for

Teachers of Secondary – Level Slow Learners. New York: Columbia University,

1983.

Williamson, W. John, and Paul, W. James. “The level playing field: Unconcealing

diploma exam accommodation policy.” Journal of Applied Hermeneutics (2012).

http://jah.journalhosting.ucalgary.ca/jah/index.php/jah/article/view/24.

Williamson, W. John. “Understanding Work Experience: A Discourse Analysis.”

Master’s thesis, University of Calgary, 2004.

Winzer, Margaret A. “Early Developments in Special Education: Some Aspects of

Enlightenment Thought.” Remedial and Special Education 7 no 42 (1986),

433-366. doi:10.1177/074193258600700509.

_________________ and Mazurek, Kas. International Practices in Special Education:

Debates and Challenges. Washington, Gallaudet University Press, 2011.

_________________. The History of Special Education: From Isolation to Integration.

Washington: Gallaudet University Press, 1993.

Wolf, Maryanne. Proust and the Squid: The Story of Science and the Reading Brain.

Cambridge: Icon, 2008.

 484

Wood, Patricia. Lottery. New York: Penguin, 2004.

Wrathall, Mark A. Heidegger and Unconcealment: Truth, Language and History. New

York: Cambridge University Press, 2011.

Wright, David. Downs: The History of a Disability. New York: Oxford University Press,

2011.

Zoglin, Richard. “Why did Jerry Lewis Leave the telethon?” Time (Aug. 16, 2012):

http://entertainment.time.com/2012/08/16/why-did-jerry-lewis-leave-the-

telethon/.
 485

Appendices

APPENDIX A: RESEARCH APPROVAL, CALGARY CATHOLIC SCHOOL DISTRICT

 486

APPENDIX B: ADULT CONSENT, STUDENT ASSENT, AND PARENT CONSENT

FORMS

CONSENT FORM FOR ALL ADULT PARTICIPANTS

The University of Calgary Conjoint Faculties Research Ethics Board has approved this
research study.
Research Project Title: The Disappearance of the slow learners an interpretive mystery

Investigator(s): John Williamson

This consent form, a copy of which has been given to you, is only part of the process of
informed consent. It should give you the basic idea of what the research is about and
what your participation will involve. If you would like more detail about something
mentioned here, or information not included here, you should feel free to ask. Please
take the time to read this carefully and to understand any accompanying information.
The University of Calgary Conjoint Faculties Research Ethics Board has approved this
research study.

I intend to explore a potential gap in programming and services for slow learners, a
psycho-educational category of students testing in the low-average range of
intellectual functioning. Predicted to struggle in school due to having intellectual
functioning one category below the average range, slow learners are nevertheless often
categorically excluded from special education supports and services beyond the
programming alternative of K & E classes.

I want to discuss your what you have experienced and heard about the needs of
students who would fit into this educational category, the benefits and consequences
of specific forms of programming for slow learning students and the benefits and
consequences of educational labeling as a broader practice. I will use the information I
learn from my participants to suggest possibilities for students and teachers to have
better educational experiences together as well as ways to reach out to struggling
students with tactful and effective help and support.

I intend to use the data from these interviews in my PhD dissertation. It is

unconnected to work or projects for either school district or Alberta Education.

Your participation in this this research study is absolutely voluntary. Each respondent
will be asked to participate in one audiotaped individual or focus group interview of no
longer than one hour in duration. Though some data will be reported in aggregate
form anything you say in the interviews that I choose to use as a specific quote will be
attributed to you under a pseudonym. All conversations will be audiotaped and
transcribed. You will be invited to review all transcripts and based on the data
collected and will be offered the chance to delete or add to the transcribed data or to
make a written statement on your own behalf to me within a two week period of your
receipt of the transcript. Failure to respond to the two week review deadline will
confirm approval of the materials as is. My supervisor and I will have the only access
to any information which might identify individuals, and the audio data the will be
stored on password protected USB devices and will be deleted as soon as a satisfactory
 487

transcript is made. The transcripts will be kept for 7 years and may be used in future
publications as well as the dissertation. Although I cannot guarantee confidentiality, I
will do my utmost to secure it. Upon request, I will email the final copy of the
dissertation and any future publications this research is used for. All data will from
the interviews be reported anonymously. In the case of a focus group interview,
however, absolute confidentiality cannot be guaranteed as the researcher will be
unable to control what is said by individual participants outside of that group and
should the interviews occur on-campus staff and other students are likely to learn of
your participation in this research.

This research is in no way evaluative.

You can discontinue participation at any time without prejudice. If you wish to do so
you may write or call me at any time, statements made up until the point of
withdrawal will be kept and may be reported in the research under a pseudonym.

Your signature on this form indicates that you have understood to your satisfaction
the information regarding participation in the research project and agree to participate
as a subject. In no way does this waive your legal rights nor release the investigators,
sponsors, or involved institutions from their legal and professional responsibilities.
You are free to withdraw from the study at any time. Your continued participation
should be as informed as your initial consent, so you should feel free to ask for
clarification or new information throughout your participation. If you have further
questions concerning matters related to this research, please contact:

If you have any issues or concerns about this project that are not related to the
specifics of the research, you may also contact the Research Services

----------------------------------------- Signatures -------------------------------------------

Participant’s Signature Date

Investigator and/or Delegate’s Signature Date

A copy of this consent form has been given to you to keep for your records and
reference.
 488

ASSENT FORM FOR STUDENT PARTICIPANTS

Research Project Title: The disappearance of the slow learners, an interpretive

mystery.
Investigator(s): John Williamson

This consent form, a copy of which has been given to you, is only part of the process of
informed consent. It should give you the basic idea of what the research is about and
what your participation will involve. If you would like more detail about something
mentioned here, or information not included here, you should feel free to ask. Please
take the time to read this carefully. The University of Calgary Conjoint Faculties
Research Ethics Board has approved this research study.

As a former or current student in Knowledge and Employability classes for high school
students you are invited to participate in a study about educational classification.

I intend to explore a potential gap in programming and services for K & E students.
Predicted to struggle in school, K & E students are nevertheless often excluded from
special education supports and services that students with other educational labels
receive.

In addition to discussing your educational experience with K & E classes, I want to

discuss the potential benefits and harm that can come from educational labels such
as “K & E student”. I want to use the information I learn from my participants to
suggest ways students and teachers can have better educational experiences together.

You will be asked to participate in

• One audiotaped group interview of no longer than sixty minutes in duration.
• One optional individual interview, of no longer than sixty minutes, should any
students feel that they want the opportunity to speak further about their work
experience placements

Your participation in this research study is absolutely voluntary. Everything you say
will be reported anonymously, you will get to choose a false name to attribute your
statements to in order to protect your identity. In the case of a group interview,
however, absolute confidentiality cannot be guaranteed. Though I will ask members of
the group interview not to discuss their experiences outside the group, I cannot
absolutely guarantee that they will not. If I interview you at the school it is possible
that staff and other students will learn of your participation in this research. Student
participants under 18 years of age will be required to provide signed parental consent
as well as their individual signed consent to participate. As a small gift to thank you
for your time you will be given a $10.00 iTunes gift card.

All conversations will be audiotaped and the audiotapes will be transcribed into a
written scripts. You will be invited to review all transcripts and will be offered the
chance to delete or add to the transcribed data or to make a written statement on your
own behalf to me within a two week period of your receipt of the transcript. Failure to
respond to the two week review deadline will confirm approval of the materials as is.
My supervisor and I will have the only access to any information which might identify
 489

individuals, and the audio data will be stored on password protected USB devices and
will be deleted as soon as a satisfactory transcript is made. The transcripts will be
kept for 7 years and may be used in future publications as well as the dissertation.

This research is in no way evaluative. It will not affect your grade or your relationship
to teachers or other students at the school.

You can discontinue participation at any time without prejudice, though I will retain
any statements you have made up to that point. If you wish to do so you may write or
call me at any time, however your contribution is very important if the results of the
study are to be meaningful.

Your signature on this form indicates that you have understood the information
regarding participation in the study and agree to participate as a subject. In no way
does this waive your legal rights nor release the investigators, sponsors, or involved
institutions from their legal and professional responsibilities. You are free to withdraw
from the study at any time. Your continued participation should be as informed as
your initial consent, so you should feel free to ask for clarification or new information
throughout your participation. If you have further questions concerning matters
related to this research, please contact:

If you have any issues or concerns about this project that are not related to the
specifics of the research, you may also contact

----------------------------------------- Signatures -------------------------------------------

Participant’s Signature Date

Investigator and/or Delegate’s Signature Date

A copy of this consent form has been given to you to keep for your records and
reference.
 490

PARENTAL CONSENT FORM, FOR PARENTS OF STUDENT PARTICIPANTS

This consent form, a copy of which has been given to you, is only part of the process of
informed consent. It should give you the basic idea of what the research is about and
what your child’s participation will involve. If you would like more detail about
something mentioned here, or information not included here, please contact me or my
supervisor. Please take the time to read this carefully and to understand any
accompanying information. The University of Calgary Conjoint Faculties Research
Ethics Board has approved this research study.

As a former or current student in Knowledge and Employability classes your child is

invited to participate in a study about students’ experiences of educational
classification. The input of curriculum writers, students and teachers about their
educational experiences with K & E is being sought to inquire if these experiences of
student and teachers suggest that current classifications and processes related to
Knowledge and Employability classes continue to have a place in today’s classrooms
and what the best ways for teachers to work with students who struggle academically
might be.

Student respondents will be asked to participate in

• One audiotaped group interview of no longer than sixty minutes in duration.
• one optional individual interview, of no longer than sixty minutes, should any
students feel that they want the opportunity to speak further about their educational
experiences or review what they said in the first interview.

Your child’s participation in this research study is absolutely voluntary. Anything your
child says in the interviews will be kept confidential and individual statements he or
she makes, if used will be quoted under a pseudonym or false name. All conversations
will be audiotaped and transcribed. You and your child will be invited to review all
transcripts and will be offered the chance to delete or add to the transcribed data or to
make a written statement on your own behalf to me within a two week period of your
receipt of the transcript. Failure to respond to the two week review deadline will
confirm approval of the materials as is. My supervisor and I will be the only ones who
have access to any information which might identify individuals, and the audio data
will be stored on password protected USB devices. It will be deleted as soon as a
transcript is made. The transcripts will be kept for 7 years and may be used in future
publications as well as the dissertation. Although I cannot guarantee confidentiality, I
will do my utmost to secure it. Upon request, I will email the final copy of the
dissertation, and any future publications this research is used for to you.

All data from the interviews will be reported anonymously. In the case of a focus group
interview, however, absolute confidentiality cannot be guaranteed as the researcher
will be unable to control what is said by individual participants outside of that group.
Should interviews occur on-campus staff and other students may learn of your child’s
participation in this research. Student participants under 18 years of age will be
required to provide sign parent consent as well as their own signed consent to
participate.
 491

This research is in no way evaluative. Its intended use is for my PhD dissertation and
is not related to the school or larger district. It will not affect your child’s grade or
status as a student or his / her relationship to peers and teachers.

Your child can withdraw at any time without prejudice, though I will retain any
statements he or she has made up to that point. If your child wishes to do so he, she
or you may write or call me at any time to indicate this, however your child’s
contribution is very important.

Your signature on this form indicates that you have understood the information
regarding participation in the research project and agree to participate as a subject.
In no way does this waive your legal rights nor release the investigators, sponsors, or
involved institutions from their legal and professional responsibilities. Your continued
participation should be as informed as your initial consent, so you should feel free to
ask for clarification or new information throughout your participation. If you have
further questions concerning matters related to this research, please contact:

If you have any issues or concerns about this project that are not related to the
specifics of the research, you may also contact

Parent’s Signature Date

Investigator and/or Delegate’s Signature Date

A copy of this consent form has been given to you to keep for your records and
reference.

View publication stats