27.04.2019 Global Action Week 2019: Inclusive education stories of persons with disabilities

My name is Minh. I currently work as a teacher at Nguyen Dinh Chieu (NDC) School for blind children in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. I work in the inclusive education programme. This is a snapshot of my life, the importance of education and my family in supporting me from childhood until now:

I was born and raised in a shanty apartment building. My childhood was just like that of any child I played with. I saw everything that a sighted kid would see in Vietnam in the 1990's right up until the end of my fifth grade. One afternoon, my family and I had a great shock when I realised that my vision suddenly blurred after an afternoon nap. My next time was of numerous days spent in and out of hospital hoping for a medical solution to my condition. We were all very stressed and worried as we sought some kind of medical intervention or treatment, but it was all in vain. The doctors were concerned as they could not help, which caused even greater anxiety for my family. A cousin of mine advised me to get back on the educational track instead. We decided to rely on education rather than some treatment for my life.

I was sent to NDC School for blind children in Ho Chi Minh City six months later. As a teenager who wanted the normal life of a kid, I was happy to get back to school whether that was a special school or a mainstream school, especially after the desperate time we had gone through. I was assessed and put in the fourth grade, two years below where I could have been. Why? Well I needed to learn Braille, orientation and mobility and some blind-relevant skills. I had to move in to a place near the school so that I could take classes regularly and easily. This was a massive change in my living and learning environments. The new skills were gained and honed, and new friends introduced and made. I eventually rebalanced my life as I accepted the new challenges and situations. When I did reach the fifth grade, I was chosen to join the school integration programmes, which I hadn’t heard a lot about. However, for me and for my family this was somehow a joyous prospect. Every time I think of that time, I find myself realising that re-joining mainstream education with sighted children was the making of me and was such a pivotal moment in my development as a human being. Although I accepted a blind person’s life, getting back to a normal environment was still there inside me.

I was equipped and supported to attend the nearby mainstream school. I looked forward eagerly to learn about my new environment, learn school subjects and make new friends. To my dismay, I felt that sighted children seemed to do better academically as well as socially compared to us children who are blind. Sighted children navigated the playground better. In study, we would face the perplexity of all the concepts or activities which were visually presented. In daily routines, we often asked for assistance with many things such as picking things up for us or getting lost unless we wanted to be embarrassed by fumbling or flailing around with a cane or arms. I realised quickly that I needed to face these hurdles with new attitude, problem solving skills and self-esteem. We would need a specialist support teacher from NDC who could liaise with mainstream teachers to help them understand our needs, to create blind-friendly settings, to reinforce key lesson points that were confusing for us due to lack of suitable materials, e.g. tactile materials, or simply give us some timely reassurance. After our day in mainstream we would return to NDC to take some tutorials. These supports helped tremendously; they would provide information in Braille, clarify some points which had been misunderstood and generally to help us learn how to manage alongside our sighted peers.

This combination of being educated in a mainstream school but with specialised support helped us to make progress academically as well as socially. After acing some challenges in the beginning, things got easier for me. I completed secondary school without any big problems. I built up my resilience and coping strategies to manage my blindness. In particular, I knew who to turn to if I needed support or faced any some obstacle(s) that might have broken my learning journey.

I went on to university. After graduation I set out on a new adventure: I got a job as an assistance coordinator in an insurance company. As a visually impaired employee, I really needed certain modifications and adaptations in the work setting. The manager soon found that my productivity and efficiency outweighed these blindness-related changes. I demonstrated my capability and I felt included as a welcome member of the team. I thoroughly enjoyed my time there. Three years later, I was offered a teaching job at NDC School, and as a blind person I wanted to assist other blind children to have the opportunities I had enjoyed. I had a good understanding of English; therefore, I was put in charge of giving English tutorials to the students in the inclusion programmes (formerly called the integration programme in my day). I realised that the boys and girls were facing many more challenges than I recalled for myself, in particular, when it came to note taking/reading, assessments, and even policies. Considering the prevalent use of laptop computers, the students were prone to misuse or overuse these in their relaxation and learning time. Some of the children who were academically less able but had to join the programme really struggled at times. It means that their difficulties comprised mine at their age and some current ones. I needed to help them overcome their lack of competence and confidence, build up their self-esteem and encourage their efforts in learning. Fortunately, the principal realised that more staff were needed to support the inclusion programme; some experienced teachers were officially teamed up to carry it out.

Then came an incredible opportunity for me. I was awarded with a scholarship to follow a master’s degree in education in Australia. This opportunity not only helped me to improve my English skills, but also to develop my knowledge about disability-inclusive education. Whilst I was very much looking forward to my study, I firstly needed to arrange the modifications I’d need to have in place to be able to access the course as well as learn how to adapt to being a foreigner in a different culture and that as a person with a visual impairment. After the two-year course, I felt satisfied with the knowledge and experiences I’d gained which empowered me to make some notable improvements in NDC’s inclusion programmes.

The pressure of a sighted learning and living environments on the visually impaired people necessitates such a worthwhile programme as the inclusion programmes. As people living with visual impairment, we need certain adaptations and certain skills, or certain tools, or otherwise we cannot achieve the same as anyone else. This is what I have gained through the specialised supports at NDC and the opportunities to study and work alongside sighted counterparts.

Bambara Olivia, is 11 years old. She was born deaf in Garango in the East-Central region of Burkina Faso. When she was seven, she suffered a trauma in the eye; this trauma left a scar in the cornea. She had now become visually impaired as well, leaving her deafblind.

At that time her parents and people around her thought that she would not benefit from going to school. She was kept at home.

Olivia comes from a low-income family where her father is a farmer and her mother a housewife. She is the second born of four children. Her family’s financial circumstances and her disability meant that her parents came to the conclusion that Olivia would not benefit from going to school and that they could not afford to send her to a special school. This situation is not unusual in Burkina Faso. Many children with disabilities are not supported to go to school by their families or communities. Not all teachers are aware of the country’s policy for all children to have equitable access to education. This situation is changing, and more teachers are being trained in inclusive education. However, life was hard for Olivia living with deafblindness in her rural community.

She was often left alone at home with very little communication between her and her family. There seemed to be no way to change her situation. The other children of her age were not very interested in her because of her deafblindness. She was seen as different. She was marginalised, unhappy, and was seen as a burden on her parents because she was not independent. She was totally reliant on others to support her every day existence.

In 2013, a community-based inclusive development (CBID) team came across Olivia in Garango. This programme is an implementation partner for CBM's inclusive education inclusive project. After her identification she was referred for eye health care.  During medical examination by an ophthalmologist, the corneal scar in the one eye was found to be irreparable. The second eye was diagnosed as having low vision, so she could use this vision to find her way around and to learn in school.

Her hearing was also assessed. She was diagnosed with a sensorineural hearing loss, leaving her profoundly deaf. No amplification aids were available. She and her family were provided with lessons in signed communication.

Despite the support of the CBID team with eye medicines, her parents were still pessimistic and reluctant to send her to school. The CBID team worked hard to convince Olivia's parents to send her to school. Following these discussions Marie-Claire was enrolled in the Bougla Ladenbourg School in Galindo. This is a state school supported by, amongst others, Centre Saint Martin e.V. (Germany), who has supported inclusive education activities at the school for several years.

The staff at the Bougla Ladenbourg School are trained in inclusive education techniques. All children are used to seeing and being in class with all children different needs and strengths. They are used to diversity. The inclusive ethos of the school means that signed communication is accepted as an important way for communicating with children who are deaf. Since Olivia's admission to primary school, her life has changed for the better. Schooling with deaf and hearing children has been positive for her. She can communicate in sign language with her classmates and her teacher.

Marie-Claire is in CP2 Class (second year of primary school). She does find some aspects of school learning challenging due to the years she spent out of school, but her class teacher is supportive and ensures that she is provided with support to learn alongside her peers and to recognise her strengths. He provides her with individual lessons to help reinforce some information she may have missed using a variety of methods, e.g. providing visuals clues, providing concrete objects, tactile materials. As a result of this, she is now a more fulfilled and self-sufficient girl.

For now, she will continue her studies in the primary school. Her ultimate ambition is to own a weaving shop where she can make loincloths to earn a living for herself. She will need to learn these skills in a training centre when she completes her primary schooling. Her parents are now very proud of her achievements and feel much more positive about Olivia attending school. She now has friends and life is more fulfilling for her. Thanks to her teacher, her CBID support, her friends in school and her parents she has a vision for her future.

This story was published in the DBI Review Magazine Number 61 in July 2018.