As a lively discussion over environmental regulations erupts in a social studies class at South Medford High School, senior Exley Mixon puts his hands to his brow and lowers his head.

His dark hair is parted down the middle, half of it combed toward his forehead and the other half swept toward his neck to hide the scars mapped on the back of his skull.

When he was 3 years old, a surgery to remove a brain tumor and subsequent chemotherapy and radiation left more marks on Exley than just scars. It damaged his brain and impaired his hearing.

"I don't know if I don't hear what they're saying or I don't understand," Exley says.

Exley, 18, is among about 11 percent of Medford School District students suffering from some kind of disability, ranging from learning problems to multiple disabilities of varying severity.

Advertisement

Despite federal laws that require public schools to modify instruction and provide accommodations so disabled students may receive a free education, day-to-day life for them is often a monumental struggle. And the prospect of losing these services once they leave high school can be terrifying, advocates for the disabled say.

Exley's disabilities cause many of the words and concepts presented in class to whiz past him.

Even with a hearing aid, it is difficult for the hearing impaired to grasp all of the language, comprehend it and write notes during a class discussion or lecture, says Libby Baker-Watson, a special education teacher from Southern Oregon Education Service District.

"For Exley, he puts out 110 percent, and he's tired by noon," she says. "It's really difficult for him to focus." He needs the information broken down in smaller pieces and more time to process it.

"I spend extra time to do the work," he says. "I wish I could spend less time on school, and it would come to me easier like learning. Like tests and stuff are harder than what they should be."

Exley was a gifted child before the tumor was removed from his brain, says his mother, Beth Mixon.

"He could put a Tanogram Puzzle together in no time, in minutes," she says.

The surgery damaged nerves in his brain, resulting in a learning disability and temporary paralysis that caused one side of his face to droop. Another surgery followed to correct his face.

A team consisting of Baker-Watson, Exley's parents, a teacher and other ESD disability specialists decided to mainstream Exley when he was 5 years old.

He takes regular high school classes and will earn a standard diploma but receives special accommodations such as extra time to complete tests and assignments. One class period is dedicated to one-on-one tutoring from a special education teacher. The criteria for his grades are modified to reflect his abilities.

"One of the advantages is when we mainstream him, he is with his peers," Baker-Watson says. "The disadvantage is he has to work harder than most kids in the classroom and there are not as many services to help him be successful as in a special education classroom."

In Algebra I, teacher Shawn Kellum explains the slope intercept formula on an overhead projector and gives the class an exercise. Most of the pupils pick up their pencils, lower their heads and start working. Exley's pencil is still sitting on his desk.

His special education teacher, Audrey Bowley, who often goes to the class to help him and a trio of other pupils with autism, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and another learning disability, comes to his aid and explains the exercise to him again.

"He keeps some concepts but not math," she says. "From today I'll have to reteach this lesson again tomorrow."

His disabilities and his small size (he was expected to grow to 6 feet, but radiation stunted his growth to 5-foot-2) amplify the common teenage feeling of not fitting in the crowd even though he drives to school and engages in most of the activities other students do.

Much of his time at school is spent in isolation. He keeps his head down and speaks mostly out of necessity.

Exley doesn't tell other students about the brain tumor or the consequential disabilities from treating it.

"If I tell them something, they'll judge me," he says.

In wood shop, Exley cuts some wood to craft a stool for the shop. Other students in the class seem unaware that Exley has a disability and some don't even know his name.

"I thought his name was Hector," one of his classmates says.

Exley says other people underestimate him.

"They think I don't know some things I do know," he says. "I feel frustrated. I feel kind of down about it."

His mother and disabled advocates say educating children about disabilities and promoting an environment of acceptance would help boost disabled students' morale and progress.

"I think kids have to be taught from an early age to respect other people, and I don't think in our society that is happening," Baker-Watson says.

The federally mandated accommodations Exley receives are part of his Individual Education Plan, which also outlines his educational goals.

Exley hopes to attend community college after graduation.

"When we have our IEP meeting (each year), we go through what the student's special needs are for that child to be successful," Baker-Watson says. "One of the things we're trying to implement for Exley is a note-taker," a student in each class who will take notes on carbon paper and pass them on to Exley and his teachers.

Twice a week, he heads to Sylvan Learning Center for more tutoring, paid for by his parents.

Obtaining the services outlined in the plan can sometimes be difficult. Although schools are required by law to provide the services, overwhelmed administrators and teachers who deal with short staffing and crowded classes sometimes overlook steps outlined in an IEP, says Judy Wiley, Southern Oregon regional trainer for the Oregon Parent Training and Information Center.

"As a family member, you need to make sure the services are happening around what the student needs and wants," she says.

Part of Exley's plan for transitioning into post-secondary education, which also is required by law, will involve pinpointing the services he will need to succeed in community college, such as obtaining a note-taker and help reading textbooks.

"We need to make certain we cover what he will need when he goes to college so he can advocate for himself," Baker-Watson says.

Colleges are required to provide accommodations but are not obligated to identify the needs, so parents and students have to advocate for themselves. Parents and students should be tapping as many social services as possible while the pupil is still in high school, including how to obtain transportation, food stamps or employment, Wiley says.

"The higher-functioning students tend to fall through the cracks because people assume they can help themselves," Wiley says.

A new state law effective this year requires schools to track disabled students a year after graduation to gauge how effective services have been. Exley will be among the first pupils to be tracked.

It is unknown how many disabled students in the state have gone on to post-secondary education or employment, but under the new law, the state will keep a count of those students, state education officials say.

Georgia Prince, an independent- living specialist at Disabled Advocacy for Social and Independent Living, says many disabled students end up living on the streets after high school.

"When they graduate they still need help, and there isn't help for them except through nonprofit agencies," Prince says.

Prince, who has cerebral palsy and is wheelchair-bound, attends Rogue Community College, where she has a note-taker.

"With a disability, it's a fight until the end," she says. "All the cuts in state services are hitting the disabled the most." She says when disabled students are supported and encouraged to follow their dreams, they are more likely to stay in school and prosper.

"It might be harder for you than others, but if you want something bad enough, you can achieve it," she says.

Exley had a glimpse of his potential three years ago when he went to Salt Lake City with Watson and some other hearing-impaired students to compete in the Brain Bowl for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing, sponsored by Gallaudet University in Washington, D.C., Watson and his family say.

"The last day he was having conversations and looking very comfortable," Baker-Watson says. "I think for the first time he felt normal and OK." Later, he gave a presentation to the ESD board of directors about the trip.

"He made the comment, 'I am capable. I am going to college,' " she says. "Here is this kid who said he was going to live under a bridge saying, 'I can do it.'

"I think sometimes kids are focused so inward that they forget to look outward and see other kids are experiencing the same thing."

Reach reporter Paris Achen by calling 541-776-4459 or pachen@mailtribune.com.