The Evolution of ADHD, Education, and Drugs in America - Part 1
Note: I’ve lectured on this subject for over 10 years. This will be the first time I’ve placed my collective thoughts into print. I’ll present the topic as a series of essays.
Dennis the Menace
Anyone remember Dennis the Menace? As a child, I watched Jay North portray that mischievous blond-headed boy who always got into trouble and annoyed his grumpy neighbor. Dennis was loved back then.
Dennis is the kid everyone seems to have on his street even now. He’s intelligent and uses it to get into everything. Even when he tries to help others out, he still finds trouble. He often acts out without thinking about consequences.
I taught ‘Dennis’ during my second year as a classroom teacher in the North Carolina school system in the mid 1980s. His real name was John. John was the type of boy that the other teachers called ‘hellion’ in hushed whisper in the faculty lounge. The other teachers told me that, “He won’t do anything. Tie a carrot to the end of a stick; he’ll play with it all year.” Instead of being that character we all loved, ‘Dennis’ was medicated.
Being a progressive teacher and not having become cynical, I was determined to save John. Since I had learned nothing at university about unfocused, hyperactive children, I consulted my professors. They advised me to move John closer to my desk; set up an individualized education plan (IEP) that included modifications to John’s curriculum, shortened assignments and instructions; and a daily checklist with rewards.
I followed their instructions implicitly. John sat right next to my desk. The modifications to his curriculum quickly began to change John’s self-esteem. We got work done everyday and his math and reading ability began to improve. His parents, however, only had eighth grade educations. They failed to return John’s checklist after a couple of days. They also didn’t have the skills to provide positive reinforcement at home. To my dismay, John’s father began to hit him with a leather belt. Corporal punishment was still used at school, so this wasn’t unusual, even though I didn’t approve.
A few days later, John came in and placed his forehead on his desk behind folded arms.
No more than three feet from my right hand, I nudged him and said, “Didn’t you get enough sleep last night?”
He looked up at me without the mischievous twinkle, his eyes a little bloodshot. He pushed a folded note at me across my desk. “Medicine,” he said.
The note was from John’s family doctor. It was actually a checklist for me to complete that would assist the doctor in determining dosage. I completed 4 checklists without seeing much change in John’s groggy demeanor. The hellion was gone, his spark was gone, but he was manageable at home. At least John’s father wasn’t beating him anymore.
The other articles in the series "The Evolution of ADHD, Education, and Drugs in America" can be found below.
Register for a free