In the month since my last post, we finished up summer testing. My son's interest level took a nose dive after he was off a week and a half for vacation, and understandably so. The good news is that the summer testing revealed that he is on or above grade level in every skill area in Reading and Math. Wow. Let me say that again. Wow. Just five months ago, we sat at a meeting with a teacher who indicated that for him to be on grade level, it would take an act of God. "We could all just pray," she said. Because of her assessment, he spent the last five months of first grade on intervention-level curriculum, and we saw his grades get worse and worse. His interest in school plummeted. Fast forward to July. At this week's IEP meeting, his summer teacher assessed him as brilliant but unmotivated when the work is too easy, and she stressed that challenging him intellectually is crucial. Wow.
The summer teacher's assessment seems to have been a game-changer for our school district folks, who are now seeing my child as bright and in need of age-appropriate academic stimulation. It was a revelation to most of them. You would think that it wouldn't be, given that they have heard this for years from me and seen countless home videos of him demonstrating his academic skills. I guess it's all too easy for them to dismiss what comes from a parent, but when one of their own says it, they listen.
The latest IEP meeting was still unbelievably long, and we're still dealing with problematic ideas from the SLP, but at least the team has shifted its focus, and, hopefully, it's attitude. In what seems like a miracle to me, the proposed psychological evaluation has been dropped for now, and the changes in placement that were made last year without our consent -- pulling out of the regular classroom for intervention time -- have been undone too.
On the whole, we are finally getting most of what we have wanted for our son's education. Data-driven assessments of his abilities, appropriate goals and accommodations, a competent vision specialist to help him at school, a solid academic placement, and the appropriate supports to help him succeed in it. You would think we'd be joyful, exuberant even, breathing easily for the first time in three years. But we aren't. Frankly, we've been burned too many times to trust. Our lawyer has recommended that we watch them very closely, and if they get even one inch out of line, we bust them on it. Immediately and hard. The need for this kind of vigilance is telling.
Perhaps the most troubling aspect of everyone's sudden change in direction is the school district's total refusal to acknowledge their part in past problems. Two weeks ago, they sent an email purporting to address our extensive list of "parental concerns" that we had first delivered to them in February. The concerns list covered everything from the communication lock-down that they authored to lack of meaningful data on our son's academic skills to IDEA and ADA violations. Again and again, their responses indicated that they had done nothing wrong and that we were the source of all the problems. What? We certainly weren't the ones who decided we could not speak to anyone at the school or tested our child with materials he could not see or refused to follow federal guidelines for evaluations. We didn't violate our own parent rights, although they violated those rights again and again.
The bottom line is that my family has been through hell for three years. We have faced an avalanche of stress, and we have paid the price physically, mentally, emotionally, and financially. The school district has behaved toward us in a way that is hostile and malicious, and, even worse, they have wasted two years of our son's life by refusing to look at the problems we pointed out and refusing to consider the solutions we proposed. They have transformed him from a child who loved learning to a child who actively dislikes school and acts out to get back at his teachers.
Now everyone is excited to be on track and ready for a fresh start this year. "It's a new day," they say. Well, a new day that includes an apology might be nice. Even something as simple as "we recognize that we have messed up, and now we're determined to do better" would go a long way toward healing. And some acknowledgment of the fact that we've solved the problems for them -- even a small "thanks" -- might be nice too. We located and paid for a specialist in teaching visually impaired students. We located and paid for a physical therapist. We lined up an assistive technology expert. We bought equipment for our son to use in the classroom. We set up a training workshop for his new teachers. We paid a high-priced special education lawyer to guide us toward resolution. We rewrote the entire IEP so that it was clear and accurate, and the goals were specific and measurable.
Essentially, we spent three years fighting to head off and then turn around problems that the school district caused by bad decision making and refusal to listen. When they couldn't fix the problems they caused, we did it for them at great personal cost. And never once has anyone said "we're sorry" or "thank you." I should be a bigger person and let go of my need for acknowledgment of some kind, but I can't seem to do that just yet.
Are we going in a positive direction? Quite possibly. But it will be hard for me to embrace that without someone first acknowledging where we have been.
No comments:
Post a Comment