Intensidad de emisiones de metano a nivel de sistema

Academically, the call for inclusion has also been made on deeply

philosophical and moral grounds (Gallagher 2004; Heshusius 2004; Skrtic 2004). Gallagher (2004) expresses this argument aptly:

Because those opposed to full inclusion are generally disposed toward believing that disability is scientifically definable and identifiable (at least theoretically) and that specialized teaching practices can be derived through empiricist scientific research that teachers can and should be trained to use, they believe instruction often should take place in

separate environments. In challenging all of these premises, others have countered that the problem of full inclusion is fundamentally, and

inevitable, a moral one' (4).

They argue that disability (and by extension difficulties with learning) cannot be so identified and defined because according to them disability is about how meaning is given to human differences in different social contexts (Gallagher 2004). So the meaning of those differences will depend on the social context and, of course on the person who assigns that meaning.

Others (Thomas and Loxley 2001) share the view that inclusion can be argued for on philosophical grounds. However, they eschew what they call the grand theory of writers such as Gallagher (2004) and Skrtic (2004), instead insisting that inclusion can be called for on the grounds of relatively simple truths deriving from one’s own knowledge, thus resisting the rigid compartments of particular academic or professional disciplines such as sociology or psychology. As they (Thomas and Loxley 2001) argue:

If we are seeking to understand why one child isn’t reading, or why another refuses to go to school, we should perhaps trust in our own knowledge as people – trust in our experience and understanding of fear, interest, friendship, worry, loneliness, boredom (ibid, 7).

According to these writers, what inclusion amounts to is to provide a

framework in which all children are valued equally, regardless of their gender, ability, ethnic origin, cultural origin or language.

The interesting aspect of inclusion is two fold. Firstly there are those who argue passionately for it and passionately against those who are not for it, for example the aforementioned Skrtic (2004), Gallagher (2004) and Hesuhius (2004) against those resisting the Regular Education Initiative in the United States. Secondly, amongst those who argue for inclusion there are

differences in outlook which means that they differ in their understanding of the term inclusion, and also differ in their emphasis on how it is to be

achieved (Thomas and Loxley 2001; Barton 2003; Gallagher 2004; Skrtic 2004; Slee 2011). The latter differences can be equally passionate.

Doing Inclusive Education Research (Allan and Slee 2008) reviews and compares the views of a number of prominent researchers who all work (broadly) in the field of inclusive education. This book is interesting because it describes the widely varying attitudes and approaches of some key

researchers. The book is also notable for describing the very bitter disputes between activists around inclusion – a most revealing dispute was between two very prominent academics, one accusing the other of overplaying and exploiting a supposedly mild disability (ibid). While this reveals the severity of the dispute it also hints at a significant element in the debate – the views and contributions of those who were themselves disabled. This is significant because the struggle for inclusion is also bound up with the struggle of disabled people demanding their rights and demanding that their own voice be heard. In so doing disabled people were saying something very important – they did not want to be objects of academic debate, they wanted to be at the forefront of that debate.

The struggles of disabled people show that inclusion or a theory of inclusive education (here I am using the terms interchangeably) must be viewed, ‘as a political struggle against unequal power relations’ (Slee 2011 121). So

inclusion is about political power. Here the words of Searle (2001) are instructive:

In almost all education systems where exclusion has remained a pivotal practice it has been an integral part of fear and authoritarianism.

Teachers working in such systems are empowered to warn errant or difficult students: 'Any more of that and you'll be out of here' and similar threats. The threat of exclusion can be as potent as the act itself, and many teachers have long depended upon it to establish their authority in the classroom. (103)

Here the inequality of the power relations between the teacher and the student is very stark.

On the other hand, Hodkinson (2012), in his interesting review of teachers’ understanding of inclusion, states that because of the multiple meanings given to it by teachers, inclusion has become an ‘illusion’. He also

emphasises the point that inclusion was championed by the New Labour government. The inference from his argument is that given that New Labour is no longer in power (in 2012), inclusion as a project should be abandoned.

I think that is to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Inclusion, as

Hodkinson (2012) concedes, was not started by New Labour. Therefore, New Labour’s downfall should not signal the abandonment of inclusion. That New Labour while championing inclusion also caused great confusion about its meaning, is not in doubt. But to the extent that inclusion is also a project of disabled people (Rieser 2000) who demand their rights to a decent education, and moreover is a political project against inequality in education whatever government is in power (Thomas and Loxley 2001; Barton 2003; Slee 2011), it should be supported through its ebbs and flows.

Given the disputes about inclusion, it comes as no surprise, then, that working towards a theory of inclusive education is ‘messy’ (Slee 2011 66). It depends on who the research is for and it also depends on one’s political and theoretical perspectives (ibid).

Michael Apple, in his foreword to Allan and Slee (2008) argues that inclusive education should comprise two types of politics, and they should be regarded as of equal importance - the ‘politics of redistribution’ and the ‘politics of

recognition’ (viii). I take this to mean that when disabled people (or any other excluded group for that matter) struggle for the right to be given the same education as their non-disabled peers (ie ‘recognition’), they are also struggling for an equitable redistribution of resources to enable such an education to be given to them, an important consideration given that this thesis also concerns itself with funding.