Cairo Association of Teachers - Newsletter

CAT Tracks for July 6, 2008 INDEPENDENCE DAY

Special-needs students get help with licenses

By Lindy Bavolek
Southeast Missourian

A brown 1982 pickup has sat abandoned for three years at Justin Eddleman's family farm. After the 18-year-old's father died, the Chevrolet truck was passed on to him.

Eddleman occasionally would use the truck on the farm but could never take it out on the roads. After six attempts, he had not passed the written test required to get his driver's permit.

The permit, and eventually a license, would mean freedom and self-sufficiency. He could quit working on a neighbor's farm and move to a full-time job after graduation — doing body work at a mechanic's shop, his dream.

But he was losing confidence and hope it would ever happen.

Pam Deneke, a special-education teacher at Jackson High School, has seen the same problem with many of her students. Students complete transition programs, but when they are offered a job they have no way to get there.

"We found that even after kids get the employability skills they need, they could not get to work because they couldn't pass that test," Deneke said.

She applied for a grant and asked the district for money to run an "adaptive" driver's education course.

School board members were skeptical at first, she said. "A lot of their reactions were 'Should these kids be driving?' My question to the community is: Would you like these students to be self-sufficient, productive citizens or be stuck in their house relying on the system?" she said.

The grant and money were awarded, and for two years Deneke and retired teacher Ronald Cook have been leading a summer driving course. They call the program Wheels for Independence.

Deneke adapted the driver's guide to make it easier to process. Many of the students participating have autism, reading or written expression disabilities, or processing disorders, making the test seem "very overwhelming." She devotes a large chunk of her time to vocabulary activities.

Over the course of three weeks, students spend eight to 10 hours behind the wheel with Cook. Cook formerly taught driver's education for the school and is a certified instructor. The district stopped offering driver's education as a class during the school year about five years ago.

"We start in the high school parking lot. It's empty, and they're able to make maneuvers. Then we progress from there," Cook said. Eventually, the students cruise the interstate.

Students are required to spend 40 hours behind the wheel for a license. "Honestly, the point of the program isn't to get them completely prepared [for a license]. It's to get them comfortable and help them get over the written hurdle," Deneke said.

Students are closely evaluated to see whether driving is something they are physically and mentally capable of. Two students dropped the class because Deneke and Cook determined they were "not quite ready."

This year's course culminated Thursday, with the eight remaining students traveling together to the license office to take their test. Deneke and Cook sat nervously in the plastic chairs lining the walls, jumping up every time they started to see the door knob turn.

Brad Frank, 16, was the first to emerge. "Is that a smile I see?" Deneke exclaimed, exuding more excitement than Frank. "Let me see your paper! Sweet!"

He passed the test on his first try.

As Deneke celebrated with Frank, another student appeared, head down. "Oh, sweetie. OK. How many did you miss? Only by one? Go get the book. We'll review and you can try again." They shuffled off to a corner.

Next was Taylor Conrad, 17. Fists squeezed, she jumped up and down, drawing attention from the whole waiting room. "I'm so excited! My dad's going to be so excited! I need to call him!"

The day went similarly from there, a mixture of elation and rejection. With each high five or tear, Deneke took the news as if it were her own success or failure.

Finally Eddleman opened the door. Seven was his lucky number.

Immediately he phoned his mother, who had quizzed him the night before to prepare. "Hi, Mom. ... Justin. ... What are you doing? ... I passed. ... Ms. Deneke said you owe me a steak dinner."

He began to make plans for his pickup, listing repairs. The windshield is cracked, and work needs to be done to the exhaust pipes. "It's brown now, but it's going to be blue when I finish with it," he said.

Students who had passed moved outside, where Cook discussed their "new responsibility." Other students prepared to take the test again. The computer version threw many of them off, Deneke said, because students could not erase their answers.

In the end, four of the eight passed. Last year, seven out of nine walked out with permits in hand.

It wasn't as many as Deneke would have liked, but "they are always going to struggle with their disability. They can either learn to adapt and overcome or give into it," she said.

Still, she knows four people's lives are changed. "This opens up their world," she said.