Labels of Ability in Education
The labels assigned to different groups in the context of education absolutely have the power to influence how kids are perceived by their educators and peers, and maybe even more importantly, how they perceive themselves. Some of the most fraught labels in the classroom are those that categorize students on the basis of ability.
One of the most widespread ways this labelling occurs is through the tracking of students into gifted programs. This is a case where the language surrounding these institutions—deeming some kids as “gifted” and the rest, by extension, as ungifted—reflects the central idea that it’s founded on: that high-achieving students’ success is the result of some innate gift that they have, and that other students simply lack. “Giftedness” isn’t framed as a goal for students to work towards, or as something affected by the myriad factors outside a student’s control—it’s just understood as a trait that you either have, or you don’t. This black-and-white labelling misrepresents a much messier reality: that giftedness is a far more complex, multifaceted construct than can be measured by a four-year-old’s standardized test score, and that existing methods of determining students’ abilities reflect and perpetuate bias, while diverting resources towards the kids who often already have the most. Unfortunately, this language, and the categorization that accompanies it, has a real impact: research shows that students left out of these programs learn to perceive themselves as less capable and likely to succeed, while those in gifted tracks are more confident in their abilities.
Another important way that students are categorized is through the label of special education. In this case, the resources that fall under this umbrella often serve a really critical role. Still, the language surrounding this branch of education has its own specific shortcomings, and can alter peoples’ perceptions of the students involved in less than ideal ways. Some students and educators point out that the referring to programming for disabled students as “special education” covers up a relatively straightforward idea in vague, euphemistic terminology, and can feel alienating to the students who take part in these programs (if you’re interested, I’d definitely recommend reading the linked article for a more in-depth exploration!). In the American school system, “special education” services also cover students with a huge range of conditions, from orthopedic impairment to traumatic brain injury to emotional disturbance. So lumping an incredibly diverse range of kids under a single label also obscures the fact that these students have a wide range of experiences and support needs, and that policies and resources that benefit one student underneath the “special education” umbrella might do little to help another.
In education, as with anywhere else, we'll always be in the process of creating categories to organize and fulfill the needs of the individuals within it. But it’s also worth thinking critically about how these labels truly impact those they’re applied to, and what perceptions and ideas they may reinforce.
One of the most widespread ways this labelling occurs is through the tracking of students into gifted programs. This is a case where the language surrounding these institutions—deeming some kids as “gifted” and the rest, by extension, as ungifted—reflects the central idea that it’s founded on: that high-achieving students’ success is the result of some innate gift that they have, and that other students simply lack. “Giftedness” isn’t framed as a goal for students to work towards, or as something affected by the myriad factors outside a student’s control—it’s just understood as a trait that you either have, or you don’t. This black-and-white labelling misrepresents a much messier reality: that giftedness is a far more complex, multifaceted construct than can be measured by a four-year-old’s standardized test score, and that existing methods of determining students’ abilities reflect and perpetuate bias, while diverting resources towards the kids who often already have the most. Unfortunately, this language, and the categorization that accompanies it, has a real impact: research shows that students left out of these programs learn to perceive themselves as less capable and likely to succeed, while those in gifted tracks are more confident in their abilities.
Another important way that students are categorized is through the label of special education. In this case, the resources that fall under this umbrella often serve a really critical role. Still, the language surrounding this branch of education has its own specific shortcomings, and can alter peoples’ perceptions of the students involved in less than ideal ways. Some students and educators point out that the referring to programming for disabled students as “special education” covers up a relatively straightforward idea in vague, euphemistic terminology, and can feel alienating to the students who take part in these programs (if you’re interested, I’d definitely recommend reading the linked article for a more in-depth exploration!). In the American school system, “special education” services also cover students with a huge range of conditions, from orthopedic impairment to traumatic brain injury to emotional disturbance. So lumping an incredibly diverse range of kids under a single label also obscures the fact that these students have a wide range of experiences and support needs, and that policies and resources that benefit one student underneath the “special education” umbrella might do little to help another.
In education, as with anywhere else, we'll always be in the process of creating categories to organize and fulfill the needs of the individuals within it. But it’s also worth thinking critically about how these labels truly impact those they’re applied to, and what perceptions and ideas they may reinforce.
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