A day at the inclusive school: "I abandon the brightest one and I forget the one who does not speak"

Barcelona"First of all, let's be clear: we are in favor of inclusive schooling, but under these conditions, it is impossible." This is explained by Martina, a 2nd-grade primary school teacher at a public school in the province of Barcelona. They have agreed to let ARA spend a day with them to see how inclusive schooling works from the inside. Without filters. However, they request anonymity. That is why all the names in this report are fictitious.

It is a few minutes past 8:30 in the morning and Martina's class is calm. She has 20 students between seven and eight years old. Among these twenty children is Hafsa, a girl with Down syndrome and severe hearing problems. A priori, she should be attended to in the SIEI –the Intensive Support for Inclusive Schooling–, a resource that some centers offer to students with special needs. But, as it is overwhelmed because the school has fourteen students with profound autism spectrum disorder (ASD), Hafsa goes to the regular classroom. "It's hard to say, but because she is quiet and calm, she is the one who does come to class," explains Martina.

Furthermore, in this group there are also Joe and Marc, who have autistic traits. And Jun, who has a language disorder and a 49% disability. "He hardly speaks and, on top of that, he doesn't understand me, but it is not considered that he needs any extra support," explains Martina while gently stroking the boy's head. In 2nd grade, there are also Rafa and Kerem. They do go to the SIEI, within the same school, but with a caregiver who is with them. "We are lucky that there is a very determined management team that has fought hard for us to have more resources. But we remain overwhelmed," describes the teacher.

It is Wednesday and today it is time for Catalan corners. They are divided into groups of five: reading comprehension, vocabulary, spelling... Today all the corners have a professional because, since Hafsa has not come, her caregiver, Laia, is helping out in the classroom by coordinating one of the corners. Marta, a special education professional, also comes. Other days there are only two teachers or, directly, just Martina alone, who rotates. "Please, I need you to activate the Catalan button; otherwise, I don't understand you," warns Martina before starting. In fact, the "please, in Catalan" will be repeated dozens of times throughout the morning, as for the majority of students it is not their first language and they have a tendency to switch to Spanish constantly.

At the spelling corner, they are given a couple of images and have to write a short sentence. Jun has been given a shark and has been staring at it for five minutes. Next to him, Mei-Ling and Maeve are writing sentences on the individual little whiteboards they each have and showing them to each other. They call for Martina's attention, but Marc has hit Jai and she has to intervene. Once peace is restored, she focuses on Jun. "Shark starts with S for sun," she insists, "hold the pen correctly, S, S, S," she repeats, trying to get Jun to relate the sound to the letter. Mei-Ling shows her that she has written three sentences. "It's perfect, very good, but remember that there shouldn't be a capital letter here," Martina tells her and gives her a high five.

Jun plays with his chair, tilting it on two legs. Marc has an image of a cat. "It starts with C for cat, you have to make it like you're making a C and then continue," the teacher tells him. Jun still hasn't written anything. Mei-Ling is on her seventh sentence, but she gets stuck on the "ch" in backpack. She has been raising her hand for a while to get Martina's attention timidly, but she has to be there for Marc and Jun, who still haven't written a single sentence. Maeve also pulls on the teacher's shirt to ask for her attention while happily holding up her whiteboard full of sentences. "S, S, S," the teacher continues trying with Jun. It's time for recess and it's time to pack up.

"The frustration is constant"

During recess, Martina asks a colleague to cover for her. While she eats her sandwich, she explains what her day-to-day life is like. It is the first time in three hours that she has sat down. "I believe in public school, but we do everything in chronic precariousness... This is not inclusion. They have no awareness of what we experience in the classrooms," she laments. And she warns: "It's not just us, the students suffer too. The frustration is constant. I feel like I'm neglecting the brightest ones and forgetting the one who doesn't speak... You just get through the days."

This teacher explains that many days she arrives home and thinks about everything she didn't manage to do. "You remember: oh, that one was sitting there doing nothing and I forgot about him, the other one hit himself and I didn't even notice," the teacher describes. She assures that she hasn't taken sick leave out of a sense of responsibility. "But as far as emotional overload is concerned, we are screwed," she insists. "This school year we have to finish multiplying and doing slightly more complex subtractions... And I don't know if we will make it," she admits.

There is no time for more. Recess ends and everyone returns. It's time for art class, one of the few subjects in which they also try to have students with special needs who are normally in the SIEI participate. Rafa arrives, who has profound ASD, and Laia, the teaching assistant, can be 100% there for him today because Hafsa—the girl with Down syndrome and severe hearing problems—has not come. Rafa does not speak. He only makes some sounds and the teachers communicate with him through pictograms. The only things he can have in the classroom to stay calm are two toy cars. When the teacher approaches him to say hello, he gets nervous because he thinks she is going to take his breakfast away. "I'm not taking it from you, don't worry," she tries to make him understand. They celebrate with the assistant that they recently managed to get Kerem, who also has profound ASD, to signal when he needs to go to the bathroom.

Constant interruptions

Martina begins to explain the activity they will do: since autumn is arriving, they will paint some colored leaves and on top of them they will stick a photograph of each of their faces, after cutting them out. "We will do it with watercolor," Martina tries to explain. But Kerem has hit a classmate and Maeve is crying because she had an argument in the playground. Rafa gets nervous because there is a lot of noise, he gets up and runs out of the classroom. The teaching assistant chases after him. Martina has been trying to explain the activity for ten minutes, but finally they get to it and it seems to work. "It is a bit difficult to cut this out for 2nd graders, but they are managing," she comments to another of the teachers.

In the classroom next door, which is also 2nd grade, they are doing the same workshop, but there is a lot of commotion. There are three quiet tables, but at the fourth one is Manel, who is usually in the SIEI. He has taken the leaves of one of his classmates and crumpled them up. His teaching assistant intervenes to take them away from him and try to explain that he did not do well, but Manel gets nervous and ends up spilling the watercolor water over Daisy's work, who watches it without saying anything. The teaching assistant takes Manel out of the classroom, cleans everything up and they get back to it. Daisy continues painting, but after a few minutes Manel spills the water again and leaves the leaves she has painted soaked. The sequence repeats: taking Manel out of the classroom, calming him down, drying the papers and the table and starting again. It even happens a third time. Even so, Daisy does not change tables and this time it is she herself who gets up to look for paper towels to wipe everything up.

"It is true that this situation is bringing out good things, such as all the students learning to accept each other and to be respectful of everyone. Also to be responsible and to take care of each other. They are always attentive and help us if they see that one of their classmates is not there or if they have to help them go down to the dining room," explains Martina. "That is why I told you at the beginning that I believe in inclusive school, but we need to do it well and, for that, we need resources that are not arriving," she laments while packing up. It has been fifteen minutes of an authentic odyssey to clean everything up.