My Thoughts on Advanced Placement Classes

I have just decided what my schedule of classes will be throughout my senior year. Although my year will not begin for several weeks, I need to have my schedule in place long before then so that we could obtain my textbooks from the one service that will Braille them for homeschoolers.  I’ve decided to take several Advanced Placement or AP Classes in my final year.  For those of you who are unaware, Advanced Placement classes are college level classes taught in a high school setting, covering in a year what most college courses would cover in a semester; the workload is still strenuous, but it is far less strenuous than that of college itself. After you have completed the class, you take an exam which accesses the knowledge/skill you have obtained from the class and whose score determines if you gain college credit. These classes are a good way for colleges to determine both the motivation and academic prowess of their students, as well as an excellent opportunity for students to earn credits for their upcoming degree without having to take actual college classes.  

I am considering attempting to be accepted by Berkley in California, and they seem to use AP classes as a measuring tool in the manner described above. I already have one AP class under my belt, and I enjoyed it immensely. For both these reasons, and because I have completed almost all my other required classes, I decided to take a couple more along with the necessary classes to round out the credits. It was when I began searching online for any helpful tips for blind students taking these classes, that I might have overlooked earlier, that I discovered a rather frustrating trend.  There are people, within our own movement, who are attempting to convince blind students not to take AP Classes. To some extent, their points are valid. For instance, the Braille tests sent to us by the College Board, who is in charge of administering the exam to determine college credit, are, in many cases, years behind schedule, or more frequently, have questions with graphs and charts omitted. If too many of these questions are omitted and that is obvious on the score sheet, the blind person’s score becomes almost meaningless.

I was lucky; my vision teacher kept in contact with individuals from the College Board’s disability office and ensured that the test was up to date, and that as many maps, graphs, and charts were included as possible. Many students, however, are not this fortunate. Also, the tests often arrive late, meaning the blind person’s must take it in July instead of May, when their peers took it. This also lowers the probability of a decent score; much of the material is forgotten by that point, increasing the likelihood questions will be answered incorrectly. I was also fortunate in this regard, mainly due again to my vision teacher, who pestered the College Board to ensure the test would be sent on time.

There is, I think, a more insidious reason blind individuals are discouraged from taking AP classes. If they do poorly in the class, either because of any of the factors above or because of illness or some other external stress, they are often strongly encouraged not to take another AP class. Many times, the individuals planning their education believe it is too much work for them (since they often have to have Braille handouts and sometimes even scan the book) if the student cannot meet the requirements for success in the class.  So I think many blind students are afraid to reach for the higher standards lest they be knocked down and their confidence broken.

However, you can’t throw the baby out with the bathwater. Yes, oftentimes it requires vigilant advocacy to ensure the tests arrive on time, and yes, if a student does poorly one year, it can be a struggle for them to take another AP class. However, I think that these classes provide a lot of benefits people are not considering. My AP World History taught me about discipline, and gave me a taste of college life. We were required to finish reading a 30-50 page chapter every week, as well as completing the sundry activities that went along with that chapter. There usually wasn’t time for this during class, meaning that I had to manage my time carefully and work on bits of the chapter every night to ensure the work was turned in by the deadline.

The class also taught me how to take excellent notes and improved my memory overall.  Often, our class periods were taken up with lectures, which required extensive notes about the time period we were currently studying, including geography, the political landscapes and attitudes/social constraints.  Often, I would take notes consisting of up to 2,000 words every class period, which required that I become an incredibly quick and accurate typist. Too many spelling mistakes could make part of my notes illegible, which could hurt me in the weekly exam.

I remember the feeling of incredible elation I felt when my AP exam score arrived in the mail, and I realized I had gotten the highest score possible, despite repeated illnesses and the difficulty of the class itself. Yes, much of this was due to my teacher, who was incredibly generous about taking time to go over missed material with me. But much of it was also due to my own brains and determination. And to me, that is what the detractors of AP forget most. We as blind individuals are so rarely allowed to experience that type of self-worth in high school, for various reasons. It’s heady, and incredibly wonderful to realize that you overcame all the hurdles and made it across the finish line. And it’s something which, if done to the best of your ability, can really raise your self-esteem—and that’s something, I think, anyone would benefit from.