Micro-actions matter in education and disability healthcare
These two areas have a lot of wisdom to share with each other. Both require connection and trust.
As I have shifted from working with schools to working with health care providers and researchers, I have observed that a school’s core value of cultivating learning communities of belonging in schools is similar to the value of creating a sense of community in healthcare, particularly as it relates to disability. In education and healthcare, a posture of curiosity, fused with trust and a desire to understand, isn’t easy to maintain but it goes a long way with children, youth and families who live with specific challenges medically, emotionally or behaviourally.
Recently, I facilitated a research workshop for CanChild Centre for Childhood Disability Research that brought educators, occupational therapists, physiotherapists, speech-language pathologists, families and researchers together to talk about what helps and what doesn’t help when it comes to supporting youth in school.
Personal perspective
The content of this workshop was shaped by interviews with older youth, reflecting on their experiences in elementary, secondary and post-secondary education. A highlight of the workshop included a panel of youth who offered personal insights. Some of the youth used their communicative devices with eye gaze, and others spoke directly into the microphone – and all of us were impacted by what they shared. I felt some emotion when one youth wondered out loud whether or not he was missed at school when he was hospitalized so frequently in his teen years.
The focus of the workshop was on micro-actions, the small things that help. Rather than attempting to solve large-scale system challenges, attendees spent time brainstorming and sharing strategies, tools and practices that we knew worked (or were worth trying). Perhaps not surprisingly, many of the suggested micro-actions centred around building relationships. A speech therapist shared about the importance of learning students’ interests, so the otherwise mundane articulation exercises could be centred on words that mattered. One of my favourite suggestions was from a parent who said, “Get to know the custodial staff of the school. Befriend the janitor. They’re the ones who can make a quick fix on a ramp, wheel or door handle.”
Beyond school, this emphasis on relationships shows up in my work as a family engagement facilitator with children, youth and families in pediatric rare disease communities as well. I often hear that processing very difficult news depends on how much trust and connection exists between the family and their care provider.
Relationships matter
Even as I keep busy in the health sector, I’m still drawn to books about education: Edith van der Boom recently published Cultivating Learning Communities of Belonging: Practices for Inclusive Education, a wise and thought-provoking resource for schools. At the beginning of Chapter 7 on Pedagogy and Community, she shares the Xhosa and Zulu word ubuntu, loosely defined as “I am because we are.” Though her writing is directed towards educators, the concept speaks to the deeply relational nature of care in education and medicine; our well-being is tied to our connections with those around us. And that is no small thing.
