What's best is not always what's preferred
There is a middle school up the street from our home. Really it’s around a couple of corners, and there is no safe walking path, but it’s a quick shot from my house to the school. This is important. My son is most likely going to that school in Fall.
Also important was why I spent Monday crying. I was in my son’s old school when a child had a meltdown. The teachers and staff were in calm communication over walkie talkies, still managing to keep the child’s privacy intact. I got to see firsthand how my son had been handled behind the scenes for years. Until we pulled him out to homeschool because the pressure of repeat meltown at school sucked him dry of confidence and happiness.
![](https://steemitimages.com/640x0/https://img.esteem.ws/fxbhlu762m.jpg)
I like him happy.
I want to admit something here. I was angry for a long time about my son’s inability to succeed in his former school. Furious, really. Think mother bear rage that the system put in place to accommodate his disability repeatedly failed him. There were wrong turns by the team working with him there. But witnessing their collected, practiced response to a child who was struggling so much they ultimately needed to call police to ensure safety (think a small child potentially running away from a school right in the middle of town)—that was healing. I felt immense forgiveness in that moment because they literally did everything they could to prevent the 911 call in order to not alarm an out-of-control student who was out of control due to disability.
Just like my child had been so many times.
Here’s where I talk about crying. Yes, I witnessed the exchange on the school end, but all I could think about was how terrifying it was to send my child to school each day and wait for a call like that mother received. And I did, every day. I also picked him up early nearly every day. I spent my minutes on high alert because a caretaker’s job is never done. I was afraid all the time that the police might need to be called. I knew my kid would be terrified. I worried it would exacerbate the problem of feeling unsafe in a school that was working to protect him.
I felt all of that again. All the fear, all the frustration, all the pain for my suffering child.
Ultimately we did not have success. The way the school was set up—well, my kid’s therapy team took one look at it and said, “No wonder he’s struggling.” We ended up withdrawing him and homeschooling for half of last year and all of this one.
He’s doing so much better now. He is asking to be in school again, but not the same school. Thus the trip to our local middle school. Honestly, the school seems like it was set up for him. There was no IEP resistance. My kid’s interest was drawn by several topics of study qnd physical exercise opportunities. He is excited to try a new school. This from a kid for whom “new” has mostly meant “unwelcome.”
But back to that crying one more time. I am scared that sending my child back to school even though it feels right and he seems ready is going to put me back in that same headspace of high alert. It was an incredibly challenging period that I do not care to revisit. Even if my child is up the street instead of across town.
In the time since he stopped school, I’ve learned to turn my ringer off. I take deep breaths. I smile and laugh more. I stretch my muscles. I no longer feel bound to the potential of his negative experiences. And I never, ever want to go back.
But, you see, it’s not about what I want. It’s about what my son needs. And so we are taking the plunge. I will make the necessary calls, have placement done and hopefully get the kiddo signed up for Cross Country running so he can make friends over Summer. He’s already looking forward to anime and manga club. He checked the library and found the Horror section. He met the librarian and assistant principal. He says, “I’m definitely going to that school.”
STOP
Wishing your son and you a happy journey in this new school @shawnamawna
I LOVE this post. As an educator, I know that all schools are not created the same. The last school I was at was a wreck and the systems in place did not work. However, since those students did not have a good support system like your child does, the recovery wasn't there and I later saw many of those children in the juvenile detention center. This is rarely a problem of one or two teachers, but a regular issue where all sides are not working together in the best interest of the kid. I am glad that your son has found a new lease on school life with his new place of learning and hope that all his accommodations are proper and help him manage his behavior. You will always have to be on somewhat higher alert, but a good school and system can really reduce the need.
Hi @shawnamawna! I feel for you and your son; I taught at a school and was one of the few who took the time to understand IEP's, understand the child attached to it, and modify what I was doing to help him/her understand and learn. Like most "caretaker" positions, I was over worked, with a caseload beyond reason sometimes, but in the end, I didn't let that affect my students. It was more than frustrating when I heard teachers flippantly saying, "I don't even know what IEP stands for haha", and found it increasingly frustrating when my own son needed assistance at my same school, and just didn't receive it!!
My heart and best wishes goes out to your son and you in the hopes of this new school fitting his needs better :)