30 Years of Inclusion at Zeeland Christian

30 YEARS OF INCLUSION AT ZCS

Barb Newman, Support Service Consultant; Inclusion Pioneer; Henry J. Nouwen Award Winner

I moved into my assigned classroom during the summer of 1989. Someone told me that my room had once been part of the school gym. School supplies and the ditto machine were in the old school kitchen, also connected to my classroom, and my office was to be the former ball closet. Mr. Teune would tell stories of threading the film reels into the projector as the whole school would gather for a movie in my new classroom space.

Compared to the ZCS of 2017, the building was quite different. I could enter the east door of the parking lot by Mrs. Zoetewey’s Kindergarten classroom and make it down to Mr. Heeres’ middle school classroom in about two minutes. Teachers would leave school with chalk marks on clothing and fingers as well as purple ink from the dittos students would use during the day. If there was a computer in the building, I’m not sure where it was kept. When they started to show up, we were all fascinated by that technology and would practice typing and saving our material on a floppy disk. Times have changed! It now takes nearly four minutes to make it from Mrs. Parrot’s preschool class to Mrs. Zastrow’s middle school class. Laptops and iPads abound. When someone mentions a “notebook”, they are typically not talking about the spiral bound pieces of paper that were once so popular.

While the Zeeland Christian School of 1989 sounds quite “rustic”, something happened during that year that was cutting edge. In fact, we struggle to find any other school in the United States that was on this same path with us. Diane Pennings and I were invited in as teachers at ZCS to help begin the very first inclusive education program supported by CLC Network. ZCS was now ready to welcome students with varied abilities and disabilities.

While I was not part of the discussions prior to showing up with my carload of classroom supplies, the board, administration, and staff had been considering this option together. The Christian Learning Center (now CLC Network) was offering them an opportunity to paint a living, breathing portrait of community as God pictured it for us in I Corinthians 12. Too many times in the past, the administrator would meet with a family and have to say, “We can educate 3 of your 4 children, but your 4th is unable to attend here.” Parents who were hungry for Christian education for each one of their precious children would walk away dashed by the conversation. Now, however, this conversation would change. All 4 children would be welcome at ZCS. At least we would try.

When a new idea comes about in education, there is typically the opportunity to read about it, study the angles, and research the data. Inclusive education, however, was only being tried in a Catholic high school in Canada. While the administration of the Christian Learning Center did visit this high school, the best textbook we had was Scripture – one body together in Christ. We were the researchers.We were the ones who would become the experts that would equip a host of people who would come to visit over the years. Those first years, however, life was an adventure at school.

Our building now had students that showed the most amazing diversity. Classrooms would include children who may have more typical learning profiles as well as children with Down syndrome or autism. Wheelchairs, ground-breaking computers that would speak for a child, therapy brushes, weighted vests, alternate keyboards, and a host of new curriculum options flooded the school. And we were learning about living in this kind of a community every single day. The teachers’ lounge was our best place of discovery. “My student decided to crawl out the window.” “My student got locked in the bathroom stall.” “My student had the most amazing answer to the Bible study question.” “My student seems to create the best classroom community I have ever experienced in my years of teaching.” We would brainstorm and then try ideas. Sometimes it was the classmates who had the best ideas. We became one giant I Corinthians 12 team – and there was no way the eye would ever say to the hand “I don’t need you.” There was a desire to be able to say to parents who chose Christian education for all of their children, “We are the ‘body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.’”

We grew from including 18 students to soon having 40 students who would require more moderate to significant levels of support to be successful in school. We now have close to 80 students with varied abilities who belong in our building and teach us how to live in community with each other. The transformative power of this kind of living is evidenced every single day at ZCS.

My first year at ZCS, it became clear to me that I had a very different job. While I had many responsibilities and support roles to play, I no longer had any students that would be considered “mine.” They all belonged to other teachers in the building. I had come from teaching at the Christian Learning Center in Grand Rapids where my classroom was comprised of 8 students with intellectual disabilities. Now, Mr. Sneller was the teacher and I was the support person. The students had to teach me this lesson. A child fell on the playground and skinned his knee. He was crying and bleeding. Sandwiched between two-second grade peers, they came down the hallway. I had my arms open, ready to help and comfort. What I had not noticed is that Mr. Sneller, their 2nd-grade teacher, was across the hall from me with his arms open as well. They walked right past me and into his arms. He was, after all, their teacher – for all three children.

Mr. VanDyk, the administrator at that time, is quick to say how much inclusive education changed the entire social structure of our school. Prior to September of 1989, students would rush to sit by the “popular” student who may have the right shoes, a surplus of money in the family, and amazing good looks. It took just a few days before the most popular students in the school happened to sport a trio of chromosomes at the 21st pair. “I got to sit by Amber in chapel” “I got to be playground buddies with Tyler today.” Circles of Friends became the fabric of classrooms and friendships were formed in most amazing ways.

One former student came to visit me during his senior year in college. He was finally taking the required psychology class in order to graduate. He said, “Mrs. Newman, our school was not “normal”, was it!” “What do you mean, Joel?” Well, I was the only one who raised my hand today in psych class when the professor asked if anyone had ever met someone with Down syndrome or autism spectrum disorder. I was shocked. To us, it was just normal to be friends with everyone in our class. Thank you for that

experience. I feel bad for the others in my college class who never had those kinds of friendships.” No, perhaps we were not “normal”, but living on the edge with God’s plan sometimes involves risks. Yet, I have talked with countless students, parents, staff members, community members, and administrators at ZCS. Each one would tell of how this kind of living transforms lives.

Visitors often ask me to show them who is in the inclusion program. They are expecting me to point out the children with disabilities. I smile and patiently remark, “Listen to what you just asked me. You asked me who is included in this school and the answer to that is ….” They can fill in the blank. The answer is everyone! We are all part of the inclusion program, and we all benefit.

One of my favorite stops at the end of the school year is in the 8th grade. I will ask, “So, what has it been like having Scott part of your classroom since preschool?” The comments are incredible. “Our theme this year is selfless, and I believe that having Scott in my class has helped me to understand more about what that means.” “Scott is just as much a part of our class as anyone else. Why would you ask?” “Scott knows how to be such a great friend. When I was having a rough time after my grandma died, it was Scott who stuck so close to me until I felt better.” While all of the students could mention a time when they helped Scott, the comments typically answer an even larger question - ”Who benefits from having an inclusive education program at ZCS?” The answer again would be – everyone! While many things have changed since 1989, the commitment and support for the I Corinthians portrait continue to be painted and grows even more beautiful. The picture is about friendships and growth. The picture is about God doing miracles in the lives of some students who were predicted to never speak or walk, and they do. The painting has layers and layers of the most amazing handiwork God has created. And I have had the joy of watching these communities of care and learning grow and blossom before my eyes. Some days were easy, others were challenging. But the giant Godbody puzzle at work at ZCS allows us all to weather the storms – where there is celebration, we all celebrate. Where there are tears, we all feel the pain.

The learning that has taken place over the past 28 years has enriched our community, but we have also taken very seriously the call to export what we have learned. The learning is housed in published books, trainings and talks across North America, and still welcome in the form of visitors to our building. We have taken the knowledge and beauty and “best practices” of inclusive education and translated them into congregational worship, youth groups, Sunday school, and Bible study materials for persons with dementia. In many ways, the ZCS community would be shocked to know how many stories and ideas flow like a fountain from 334 West Central Ave. to communities around the world. To us, it’s just “normal”. It’s how we have chosen to live and learn together. To some, however, they want to learn from us and become this kind of community in their part of the world.

It’s hard to fit into one article the passion and excitement I feel each time I step through the doorway of Zeeland Christian School. In one presentation I did, I photoshopped my head into a bubble bath, letting people know that ZCS is my home – a place where I can bathe myself in the beauty of inclusive community. While others in the world sometimes don’t understand that each person God created is to be considered honored, important, and indispensable to the body, the community of ZCS has understood this for years.

My friend Emily Colson, daughter of Chuck Colson, has a son named Max. Max is energetic and fun. He also adores vacuum cleaners. Touching them, using them, and learning about them comprise a day that is the best ever for Max. Max also happens to have autism. Emily and Max live out east in the Boston area where they have visited several vacuum cleaner stores. The owners always tell them to stay away from the area where they fix the vacuums because it would certainly be against policies. Yet, when Emily and Max visited West Michigan, she will tell you how very different it feels here. The stores, sidewalks, and parks are filled with interactions that seem to convey warmth and acceptance towards Max that she struggles to find always in Boston. In fact, when Max spotted a vacuum cleaner store in Holland, he bounded inside. The person in charge was so caught up with Max that he invited him to see where they fix the vacuums, knowing this would indeed be a very special day for Max.

I like to imagine that our stores and interactions here are different. I like to imagine that Zeeland and Holland are different places because of the many people who lived and learned at ZCS the value of showing respect and honor to each person, regardless of ability or disability. May we continue to be a beacon in a thirsty world – a community that instructs those within as well as those without. To God be the glory!