 Here is the story of a boy aged two. A doctor has just diagnosed him with autism, telling his mother he is so low functioning she should immediately investigate institutions for him. In that moment, his story had become a single story, autism. Here's the story of a boy aged three. He wanders to a toy keyboard, and within minutes he is playing nursery rhymes by memory and by ear. He cannot speak, but this does not matter. His story is a musician's story. Here is the story of a boy aged seven. He is asked to leave his general education PE class. Despite the presence of an aide supporting him, the teacher feels like he cannot follow instructions well enough. The school simply sees him as a child who cannot process language, but this little boy does not see this. When he doesn't understand the words swirling around him, he doesn't cry. He merely finds another child who does understand, and he stands next to that child and he copies his movements. Nobody else sees the resiliency, the survival skills, the problem-solving skills this little boy is teaching himself. His story is only autism. Here's the story of a boy aged eight. He loves to watch YouTube videos of live music concerts. One day at a friend's house he sees a guitar, and he picks it up and he will not put it down. He is sent home with it, and a week later he is playing and singing John Mayer songs. His story is a musician's story. Here's the story of a boy aged nine. He is excited for his first strings concert at school, but he doesn't understand why his father is seated right next to him when no other child has a parent seated right next to them. He doesn't know that he is only allowed to perform if a parent sits right next to him. He does not know that despite the lack of any behavior issues all year, his strings teacher firmly believes performing in front of a crowd will cause this boy to panic. He doesn't know that his teacher only sees his story as what she believes the story of autism to be. Here's the story of a boy aged 10. He gives his parents a drum kit much to their chagrin. He sits down at this drum kit and without a single drum's lesson and within 30 minutes he is drumming a Green Day song. His parents now see his story as a musician's story. Here's the story of a boy also aged 10. He attends his school's talent show and he wonders why he isn't performing. He doesn't know that the children in the special education autism class were not invited to audition. He doesn't know that the school presumed that children in a self-contained special education autism class could not possibly have talents worthy of an elementary school talent show. He doesn't know his story is only autism. Here's the story of a boy aged 11. He stands on a stage in front of thousands of people, guitar in hand. He walks up to the mic and he says to the crowd, you all ready to have a good time? As the crowd roars in response he strums his guitar and he rocks their world. Three years later he is on a stage on Broadway in front of Andrew Lloyd Webber. This stage does not cause him to panic. He plucks his bass and he sings Foxy Lady by Jimi Hendrix. His story is a musician's story. Here's the story of a boy aged 12 and the seven IEP meetings it took to get his secondary school to put a social skills intervention during study hall so he does not have to choose between the music electives he needs and the social skills supports he also needs to navigate a world that is ill-prepared for him. His story is within inches of remaining only autism. Here's the story of a boy aged 13. The first middle schooler in his secondary school to be both in the highest level high school guitar ensemble and all self-contained special education academic classes. The boy aged 15 who has a 30 song set list he can play from memory who played over 40 times in his community and his school in just one year. His story is autism. His story is a musician's story. His is not a single story. It is the perfect illustration of profound disability and incredible ability. It is of a school system that could not see ability in some areas of life because of disability in other areas of life. Too often we see the stories of children with disability as the story of their most single most limiting characteristic. We do not see their stories of strength. The danger of a single story for the education of children with disabilities is we design their education around what they can't do at the expense of developing what they can do. Right? Now, I understand, like I'm talking to educators, I know this isn't intentional, right? In this boy's story every single educator only wanted what was best for him. Their only goal was to help him, truly. But by defining ability through this really narrow lens, it led them to unintentional bias and unnecessary limitations. The role of public education is supposed to be to produce productive citizens for our society. But now we have so many numerous academic requirements and burdensome standardized tests that public education has been reduced to the single story of academic ability. Left behind are those students for whom academics is not their strength. Left behind are the auto mechanics. Left behind are the artists. Left behind are the plumbers. Left behind are the musicians. Left behind is the story of a holistic, well-rounded education that produces productive citizens. But mostly left behind are children with disabilities, especially autism, for whom it is nearly impossible to demonstrate competency in this environment. There are one in 59 school-age children with autism, most of whom are in public schools. That is a lot of children to leave behind. We need to fix this. We need a public education system that balances academics with flexibility and room to pursue areas of strength, whether that be more academics, or arts, or career and technical ed. We need to teach kids with disabilities the skills to compensate for their disability while still allowing them to access education in areas of ability and interest. We need a public education system that is flexible in its requirements, with multiple paths to a high school diploma. Now, I realize this all requires a paradigm shift in education, and that is hard. I get that. But in the long run, it will actually save us money. By giving all of our children the proper tools to become productive citizens, we reduce the number of adults with disabilities requiring social services. We reduce the number of adults with disabilities, a third of them, in our jails. We reduce the number of adults with disabilities isolated and alone. We reduce the number of students getting burdensome debt for college that they may not need or want. We increase our economic security. We do the right thing for everybody. We owe it to our students to foster their strengths and see their abilities. We owe it to our students to believe they have multiple stories. I owe it to my son, Jake. You see, my son is a little boy in that story. He is both a brilliant musician and a child with sometimes profound autism. His teachers tell me that his musical ability, his perfect pitch, his stage presence, his memory for music can open the door to many careers. One of his teachers likened some of his ability to Mozart. And yet, he is still the boy who has been pressured to drop music electives in favor of academic remedial courses on top of academics, courses useless to his future. He is still the boy who in many states, including until two weeks ago in Virginia, cannot get a high school diploma that allows him to access federal student aid from music school because even though he passes grade level classes, he cannot pass a state standardized test in biology or algebra or English. Let me repeat. My Mozart in many states cannot access aid to go to music school because he cannot pass a state standardized test. And this bleak future is faced by many students with and without disabilities. Numerous academic heavy curricula, numerous standardized tests mean we are leaving many students behind because their interests lie elsewhere. Instead of providing all of our students multiple paths to success, we are providing them a narrow path to failure. The promise of public education is supposed to believe that every child, every child can write their own story. And the role of public education is to believe and help and give those kids the skills to write their own stories. After all, why would you want to stop Mozart? I'm becoming Mozart. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Jake Sizemore, musician with autism. Greetings. This is here comes the sound by the Beatles.