At Scuola Viva, handicapped children are welcomed with relative ease through strict enrollment limits — no more than two per class — and careful attention to the severity of each child's condition. (2) Diario di bordo, in "Scuola Viva" 1972. This openness flows directly from the school's philosophy and pedagogy.
Here's what I mean: this private association was founded on the idea of transforming school into an "active society." That's why "we need assemblies, a school newspaper, theater, film, work, participation in organizing rotations, work plans, a daily log, museum visits, outings, physical education, sports, music, correspondence, connections with education theorists, administrators, and local officials..." Diario di bordo, in "Scuola Viva" 1972, pag. 5
In a school where these are the core subjects, handicapped children find their place naturally and meaningfully. They experience real activities. They socialize with other children through participation in programs where their abilities can truly emerge.
Add to this the small class sizes, genuine teamwork among all staff, parental involvement, an emphasis on outdoor learning, and a full school day — these concrete elements create the conditions every mentally handicapped child needs.
Before drawing conclusions, I want to highlight two crucial points raised by Adriana LUNGHI, an elementary teacher with over 15 years of experience. They address questions we've asked ourselves many times:
Can all handicapped children really attend school?
"The school welcomes mongoloid children, spastic children, and those with cerebral lesions — all within the range of what can be recovered. Severe cases are another matter. I speak with particular feeling here as the mother of a multiply disabled girl, for whom the school found nothing to offer, lacking the necessary facilities."
What about parents? And the other children?
"How do we handle relationships with parents of handicapped children? Most are ready to open up, to share their worries, their pain, their fears. A few are more guarded, almost suspicious of teachers — and without their cooperation, our work starts at a disadvantage.
Parents of non-disabled children, once we've told them a handicapped child is in the class, show understanding and say they're ready to help.
But the students themselves — free from prejudice, from sentimentality — are spontaneous, moving, direct, eager to participate. In every class I've taught, all the children joined me in the work of helping their struggling classmate. In doing so, they suddenly became mature enough to grasp how important their role was. And in that moment, they taught us adults something essential: that these children must be accepted with fraternal care and true Christian charity.
To teachers preparing to work with handicapped children, I'd say this: bring a deep humanity to the work. Get solid training in pedagogy, teaching, and science. And push for better schools than what we have now — schools with proper resources."
There are certainly other educational models worth exploring; we haven't tried to survey them all here. What we wanted to do was give voice to a few teachers and let their experience speak. It shows how varied each child's needs truly are — and how different our approaches must be.
Nicole Schulthes, 1981