I quit my job. After 8 years at the same school district, where I had at least 50 friends I would seriously consider best-friends, call them in a second friends, and more connections than I could ever possibly to count, where I had hundreds of kids I worked with, loved, and wanted to keep in my life, where I had countless promises of becoming an administrator someday, I walked away. I did it for my daughter. It was the fourth best decision I ever made (I'm married and have two daughters, you can do the math.) When I made the proclamation at the pre-ARD (Admission, Review, Dismissal) committee meeting that I was willing to pull my child out of the school district, it was for two reasons that I was able to confidently make that statement. First of all, we had already moved a year before and Imma was attending school there solely because I worked there. Switching her would be no problem. I, on the other hand, needed some more assurance before I took my own toys and went home. Imma and I are a package deal. I felt emphatic about the necessity of her being at the same campus I was on. The campus I worked on at that district did not have an autism, STC (Structured Teach Classroom) so if we stayed there, we would have to be at two separate campuses. They were not budging on putting her in regular kindergarten and I wasn't budging on keeping her out, so I quit.
When I interviewed for my current position, it was as if God was putting all of the pieces in place, just for me. I am the first and only Reading Specialist this district has ever had. They needed a teacher with a background in RTI (Response to Intervention). Both of those two areas are where I excel. They also wanted someone certified to work with second language learners and a potential administrator some day. That's me. My interview went really well. I immediately felt welcome and loved the campus and the principal. I was in awe of the central office representative who came over (and still am!) as she is amazing and everything I aspire to be someday! And the teacher who sat in is now one of my best friends. For me, it was meant to be. But I was also interviewing them. I asked about an autism unit. The principal explained that they didn't have one. They put autistic kids in regular classrooms with whatever support they need and provide training as necessary. The central office representative elaborated by saying, "We rarely see any need to remove autistic children from the regular classroom. They can handle the academics, we just have to support their behavior." I remember asking her if I could hug her. I really wanted to! That was exactly what I needed to hear. A few days later I was offered the job. They could have paid me in skittles and I would have taken it.
So sitting across from Imma's principal and telling her I was prepared to remove Imma from the district was not so scary. Fighting an ARD committee is. If you ever find yourself in a situation where you need to fight the ARD committee, be sure to check into your rights ahead of time. It's basically a ten day waiting period and then a reconvening to see if anyone has budged. They can get very ugly. The state can be called in. We would have gone there if we would have had to, but we didn't. Before I agreed to the ARD's recommendation, I spoke to my new principal, and the head of special education in my new district and confirmed that nothing I agreed to would matter if the classroom they were recommending didn't exit in the new district. Be advised, however, if there had been an autism unit in my new district and I would have agreed to the old district's recommendation, Imma would have had to be in the autism unit in the new district for 30 days until the ARD could change the ruling. Something to keep in mind.
But we have no autism unit so Imma was placed in a co-teach classroom. She is in regular kindergarten with a special education teacher who comes in for a few hours a day to help support all of the special education students in that classroom. Imma also receives 20 minutes of resource. This is where the special education teacher takes Imma and another special education student out of the classroom and works with them in a small group to make sure they understand everything taught in class. When Imma misses things, it is due to her inability to process language, not a learning disability. This twenty minutes was actually a change from the original recommendation, which was 40 minutes. The new ARD committee felt Imma would benefit from more time in the regular kindergarten classroom and cut her time in half. Yes, the ARD committee wanted Imma in kindergarten more. Essentially, the new district switched the times from the old district. We went from 20 minutes per day in kindergarten at the old distirct to only 20 minutes a day out of kindergarten, plus speech sessions two or three times a week for about 20 minutes. So how is Imma doing in kindergarten, the place I was told she would never, ever be able to handle it and would be completely unsuccessful? She is thriving! Her language is taking off. Her speech teachers are incredible. We had some behavior scares earlier in the year but we also have a behavior specialist on her team that visits her every week and a school psychologist who checks on her. Her behavior is better than I would have ever hoped. She isn't perfect but she isn't hurting other children and it's been determined by her team of experts that most of the acting out is due to sensory issues. There seems to be a lot of evidence pointing toward a sensory integration disorder, not autism. In fact, some of the most experienced members of Imma's team have given my information to show why it is most likely a sensory processing disorder and ways we can help her. They don't think she was, is, or ever will be autistic. I also must say that Imma's kindergarten teacher is outstanding. She has figured out a way to communicate with Imma and to get her to comply like no one I've ever seen. She loves her special ed teacher, too. She's just in incredible hands. Nine people, yes nine, work with her to make sure she has everything that she needs, led by an extremely caring principal and head of special education who treat her as if she were their own and don't mind too much when busy-body mommy can't seem to cut the apron strings.
Let's talk about autism again, because I think it's important that I am clear about something important. The district Imma was in before explained to me that she was not autistic but that she would be labeled as Early Childhood Non-Categorized Autism and that she would qualify for services because of this label. Remember, I am an educator who works with students with learning disabilities everyday. To me, this sounded very much like they were saying Imma qualified for special education services due to this ECNC label. It was only after I left the district that I found out that is not the case. There is not a qualification for special education called ECNC. You are either labeled as autistic or not. Imma was not. Imma qualified for special education as a speech only student. In education, we basically look at special education students in two heavily populated categories, (and some other categories with less students, such as autism) those who are "speech only" and those who have learning disabilities. "Speech only" students still fall under the special education umbrella but their disability could be something as simple as stuttering or lack of articulation. Imma's speech qualification is more complicated because it is language processing but she still fits into the speech only category. She can get the necessary services she needs because of her inability to process language but she is not learning disabled or autistic. If the school district is suggesting your child be tested, make sure you ask specific questions about the areas where it is suspected that your child may need additional support. And make sure that whatever the school district tells you is an area of qualification is, in fact, a legal qualifying disability. You can find more information about these qualifications on your state's education agency website. I was pretty shocked when I found out that Imma could be placed in an autism unit based on a special education qualification of speech only. I have no idea why anyone would want to put a child capable of so much in such a restrictive environment. In fact, the criteria special education teams are supposed to consider first is called, "least restrictive environment." If you are ever in a situation where a school district wants your child in a restricted environment, ask what options are available that are "less restrictive." I can't promise they won't get ticked off that you know that phrase, but it will let them know you mean business and you know your rights. I certainly used that phrase several times and had the "autism schedule" I mentioned earlier thrown in my face. Under the circumstances, all I can honestly say is that district should be very happy I am not a litigious individual.
Imma is doing so well in kindergarten. Teachers come up to me all the time and tell me how amazed they are at the progress she has made. I am, too. We have our struggles but she is beginning to answer questions, tell stories, talk about her friends and what she did that day. Her speech is becoming more clear, though she is still confused about the trickier parts of speech, pronouns and what-not. She is a different child. I know she is going to make it, eventually, she will get caught up. I don't know if she'll ever be "normal" but in a lot of ways, I'm not normal either and that's okay. I want her to be able to communicate, express herself, be successful, know the joy of friendship, love, have her own children someday in 30 or 35 years. And I believe she will. I truly do. Children rise to the expectations we set for them. Luckily, the staff of her new school has the same expectations for her that I do, they are the same as any other child in kindergarten. I shutter to think of what might have happened if I didn't stand up for her the way that I did. She may have qualified the next time she was tested for autism, which was originally set to be April 2013. When I asked the diagnostician at Imma's new school if she was going to be tested for autism in April, she said, "Why would we do that? There's no evidence to support a need to test for autism." Ahhh, the words I've longed to hear for so many years.
This journey is not over, of course. Imma will continue to learn new things, say silly things I think you might like to hear. I'm sure we'll have more bridges to cross, especially as we begin to explore Sensory Integration Disorder. I hope you will continue to follow our journey. I've been so amazed at the amount of readers we've had. So many kind messages and comments. I so appreciate your love and support.
Just two more things I want to say on this topic, for now. First and foremost, be the advocate for your child when s/he needs one. If you don't, who will? If it doesn't seem right, keep asking questions until it does. If you don't feel like something needs to be done, don't do it, not right now anyway, keep looking. At the same token, you must keep pressing forward. Whatever it is that is making you wonder if something is wrong with your child will not just go away one day. You're going to have to work to make it go away. And it's hard work. But you can do it! And I'll be here to love and support you, as will hundreds more parents who have come before you. Just reach out to us and let us know you need help and we'll do everything we can.
The other thing I must mention, which is not pleasant but has to be said is, let yourself grieve! It's okay to be upset and angry and frustrated and mad as Hell. You didn't ask for a differently-abled child, none of us did. There will be times when the only way to move forward is through the tears and the internal screaming. It's okay. I read somewhere once when I was feeling like the worst mother in the world, feeling like I shouldn't be feeling sorry for myself, that I actually DID need to feel sorry for myself. You must literally go through grieving process as if you have lost your child to get through this and move on. At first it may seem disrespectful to parents who have physically lost a child, and I understand that and apologize for it if anyone is offended. But what I had to realize, and what you will hopefully come to realize is, you did lose a child in a sense. You lost the idea of your child. The one I had imagined, that chatty-Cathy Imma, precocious, and ever the social butterfly, she was gone. She would never exist, not as a small child anyway. I had to cry for that little girl. I had to mourn her loss so that I could move on and accept the child I do have. Unlike a parent who has lost a physical child, I am so blessed that my baby is physically just fine and that I can move forward with her and continue to make progress. But until I let that other child go, I was unable to see that my child really needed help. At that point, when I had done all of my crying for pretend-Imma, I could learn to help the real Imma.
Now that isn't to say I think I'm done crying over Imma. I still get upset when I feel like she doesn't understand or obey the way I feel she ought to or if I feel someone else is being unfair to her. When she acts out or hits me or her sister, I cry sometimes about that. But it's nothing like it used to be when I just could not understand what was wrong. We are past that now. We still don't have an official diagnosis beyond speech language disorder, but that's okay. I now believe that labeling Imma too soon would have been catastrophic and I am a proponent of waiting to label children, particularly in an educational setting, until results are absolutely confirmed and necessary for a child's programming.
This has been a lengthy post and a lengthy series. Thank you for following our story and please continue along with us as we continue to find the ever-elusive land of "Normal."
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