We’re working on a tricky standard in school in my on-level classes. They’ll have a TDA (text-dependent analysis) question as part of their year-end test, and it’s often a question about how some text develops some idea or other. It might even provide an excerpt and ask specifically how that passage contributes to this or that idea. It’s not a straightforward question, and while I’m not entirely sure it’s a useful question to pursue with kids who have difficulty reading at grade level, I am obliged to some degree or other to teach to the test. That’s what we’ve done the last couple of days. We worked through a text together and then figured out how to answer such a question. Today, students were working to do it on their own.
Part of the process, I taught them, is to take the main idea of the text and compare it with the passage the question wants us to analyze. “See what similarities they have, what differences. Think about the relationships between those.” Since the first multiple-choice comprehension question for our article “Why I Refuse To Say I ‘Fight’ My Disability” was “Which of the following statements best expresses a central idea of the article?” I knew we could save time in determining the main idea for ourselves. We evaluated the four possibilities and realized it was the first option: “Hitselberger’s disability is an important part of who she is, not an enemy that she needs to defeat.”
The analysis question didn’t deal with just one or two sentences; it dealt with the entire final third of the article. “How do paragraphs 5-14 contribute to the development of ideas in the text?” At first I thought, “Great, the kids will have to comb through nine paragraphs to find the answer.” Then I looked at the nine paragraphs. I didn’t have to look closely: the relationship is literally plastered throughout the passage.
I will say I fight ableism and prejudice.
I will say I fight lack of access, stigma and ignorance.
I will say I fight discrimination.
I will say I fight these things, because I do. These are battles to fight, and win. It is ableism, prejudice, lack of access, stigma, ignorance and discrimination that prevent me from having the same opportunities in life as my able-bodied brother and sister, not my cerebral palsy, my wheelchair or my inability to walk.
I will fight to make this world a better place for future generations of kids just like me.
I will fight to make sure they are never told or led to believe their bodies are a problem or something they must do battle against on a daily basis just to fit in.
I will fight to make sure those kids have the same opportunities as everybody else, and never believe everything would be better if they could just change who they are.
I will fight for a world where the mere presence of disability does not make you extraordinary. Where disabled children are taught to aspire to more than just existing, and where being disabled doesn’t mean you have to be 10 times better than everyone else just to be good enough.
I will fight for a world where we talk about living with and owning our disabled bodies rather than overcoming them.
I will fight for a better world, and a better future, because those things are worth fighting for, but I will not fight a war against myself.
So it’s simple, I thought. The main idea statement is “Hitselberger’s disability is an important part of who she is, not an enemy that she needs to defeat.” Every single paragraph of the passage begins with “I will fight.” It’s not terribly difficult to see the connection between “fight,” “enemy,” and “defeat.” So the main idea statement says that the author will not fight her disability while the passage gives a list of things the author will fight.
Most of them could not see it. I phrased it differently and rephrased it again. Many of them could still not see it.
I’ve been thinking about this all day, wondering what went wrong. Was it the presentation? I’d like to think I’d done a decent job scaffolding the learning: we’d practiced the very same thing with the very same question yesterday. The only difference was the text. Was it the students? Just as I’d like to think I wasn’t responsible, I’d like to think it wasn’t a question of student culpability because there are only two ways to explain it: they can’t do it, or they won’t do it. Neither one is appealing. Yet of all three options, I wonder if the truth isn’t hidden in one of them. It’s not a question of intelligence or reading ability; perhaps it’s just a question of critical thinking.