As we promised in issue 81 of 2003, we publish the reflection of Davide Del Duca and the stories of two autistic young people supported by the Foundation he leads. Including handicapped students in mainstream schools matters—for them and for their non-disabled peers, who must learn to accept difference and develop a culture of welcome. But autism demands something more. Without solid knowledge among school staff, we risk real harm and reinforce a self-fulfilling prophecy: that autistic students are unmanageable. They become unmanageable only when we fail to intervene with method and genuine skill. What, then, should we do? Recently I attended a conference organized by CGIL Scuola on this subject titled "No Going Back." Agreed. We move forward, we preserve the law—but we make it work.
Let me propose something for debate. Since teacher preparation is what makes the difference for autistic students, we might consider schools with specialized knowledge of autism. Not separate schools, but mainstream schools within each district that concentrate students with an autism diagnosis, ensuring that expertise—not just from a support teacher who may leave, but from the entire school community, including administrative staff—becomes embedded and certain. In a small city, one well-equipped school per grade level in each educational zone would solve the problem for many autistic students and their families.
- Davide Del Duca, 2003
President, Fondazione Bambini e Autismo ONLUS
The Story of E.
E. is a ten-year-old non-verbal autistic boy. He attended preschool and, after his autism was diagnosed, had a one-to-one support teacher. Naturally, E.'s teachers knew nothing of autism. Despite their good intentions, they made serious mistakes—raising their voices to reprimand E. and his classmates, for example. Each time this happened, E. reacted with rage. He would find the nearest wall and slam his head against it. The teachers panicked. Without meaning to, their immediate, alarmed attention only reinforced the behavior.
E. learned that banging his head got him what he wanted. Over time, the repeated blows left a permanent bump on his forehead and a callus. But E. discovered something important: what had been a painful strategy could become just a strategy. Later, he would place his hand between his forehead and the wall to cushion the blow, while keeping the gesture equally effective.
During his preschool years, despite the Foundation's and his family's efforts to provide E. with trained staff and continuity, he had twenty different teachers—permanent staff, substitutes, and substitutes for substitutes, all approved by the teachers' unions.
In elementary school, which E. still attends, he is only in fourth grade but has already had about ten different support teachers, plus the rotating classroom teachers his peers have. Last year, after budget cuts, his one-to-one support was withdrawn—as if he had been cured of autism. The hours he no longer spent with a support teacher (who was a substitute anyway) were reassigned to educators paid by the municipality and trained by the Foundation.
If we were to judge E.'s time in school so far by these conditions, we should say his presence has been purely negative. Yet it has been positive. E. is well integrated, beloved by his classmates, a hard worker. He does addition and subtraction, writes and reads simple words, works to manage his repetitive behaviors, and watches his peers closely, trying to copy them. Who deserves credit for this success? Not the school system or the Ministry. Mostly E. himself, who has learned through his own exhausting, stressful experience to navigate the countless unexpected situations school has thrown at him.
The Story of F.
F. came to the Foundation about a year ago. He was in eighth grade. According to his mother, his school record had deteriorated steadily. In elementary school, problems were manageable; by middle school, they had become acute. Both the regular and support teachers reported serious behavioral difficulties and no cognitive progress. This seemed odd to us, because during his sessions at the Foundation, F. did well, was cooperative, and showed no violent behavior toward himself or others. Encouraged by the improvements they saw over the past year, F.'s family decided to enroll him in a secondary school. The teachers coordinated in advance with his middle school colleagues and with the Foundation.
Through a one-way mirror, they watched F. work. They concluded he could attend secondary school without major problems. But after only a few days, the secondary school teachers asked the local health authority for an evaluation to certify F. as unfit for upper school. As proof of F.'s unmanageability and supposed danger, they displayed—constantly, on every occasion—a tissue with a lock of hair they claimed F. had ripped from a teacher's head.
When F.'s discouraged mother brought us this news, the Foundation took an uncompromising stance. We offered complete cooperation with the school for F.'s successful integration. We also made clear we were prepared to pursue legal action if F. was rejected.
Today F. attends school on a reduced schedule. There have been no more traumatic incidents. But despite repeated invitations to collaborate and listen to our advice, the teachers have kept relations with the Foundation strictly formal and tied to working hours.
Nobody seems to have considered that the single violent episode at the start of the year came from the teacher's own lack of judgment—and that F., who by nature is a decent young man, deserves credit for ensuring it never happened again.
FONDAZIONE BAMBINI E AUTISMO
Headquarters:
Via Vespucci, 6-33170 Pordenone Tel. 0434.29187 - Fax 0434.243643
e-mail: bambini.e.autismo@iol.it
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Tel. 0434.247550 - Fax 0434.243643
e-mail: centrovespucci@libero.it
Villa Respiro:
Via I. Svevo, 2 - 33084 Cordenons/Pn Tel. 0434.41593
e-mail: villarespiro@libero.it