Tag Archives: school

Peace of Mind

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peacefulOne of the things that I have been most nervous about the move, OK, more like THE ONE THING that has given me a good bit of anxiety is the program for The Boy in the state/county/school where we will be.  You just never know what you are walking into, even with a diagnosis and an IEP in hand.  You may remember that I had spoken with someone who worked in a county a good bit away from where we were who said they didn’t have a resource room to speak of, and didn’t have any aides in the rooms with the kids.  Considering that The Boy spends a good amount in his resource room, I got a bit panicky about what I was going to be subjecting him to.

I had put out some feelers through some contacts with the state Autism Society, and hadn’t really been able to connect with anyone, until this weekend.  I finally got in contact with some parents who run the local chapter, and was able to speak on the phone with one lady who was able to give me some insight, at least into her experience.  She had also moved into the area a year and a half ago, and has a son that is very close in age to The Boy.  She was able to allay my fears a bit, and let me know about how much their little chapter has been accomplishing.  Not only was I relieved, but I also began to get a little excited.  Here is a group that is actually making positive change in the community for kids on the spectrum, and providing opportunities, and even a summer day camp!  YES!  Exactly what I was hoping for.

Not to mention that this group is a way for us to meet people like us, which will be one of the most difficult parts of the transition for both The Boy and I, making new friends.  I often complain about talking to people on the phone, but this time, I am sooo glad I did.

Most Important

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The Passage of Time

The Passage of Time (Photo credit: ToniVC)

The Boy and I are first to the school every single day, with the exception of the lone morning custodian. He lets us in the door shortly after 7am, and we wait, often for at least 10 minutes, until other faces arrive, children and their parents, but rarely the same ones. And then around 7:15am, the Kids Club staff arrive.

There have been a couple of times when a parent has come in, assumed I worked for Kids Club, and promptly left their children with a quick peck on the cheek. Nevermind my big puffy coat and scarf… Or there are times when a parent comes in, constantly looking at his/her watch, declaring over and over how they have to get to work (as if I don’t). Today, a woman actually pecked her kids and told them she was going to go wait by the door, because she had to “skedaddle”… Yep, that 15 seconds from the gym to the parking lot door is really going to make a difference, Lady.

When I overhear things like this, I often look at the kids, who look embarrassed and sad. All of these parents are sending a message, with their words, actions and body language that no kid could miss — work is more important.

There are times when we have a rough morning, and yes it’s irritating to have to text my boss and tell him I am running late, but he’s my kid. There is nothing on this planet more important than him. And if I have to be a few minutes late to work, so be it.

I hope these parents get a clue before their children are grown and gone, but realistically how will they learn?

 

Schools and the “Quick-Fix” Solution

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I don’t often write about school, neither mine nor The Boy’s because it puts me in a precarious position.  And I just don’t want to go there.  Yet.

But there is one thing that I think I can safely generalize about public school systems today, and that is the preponderance of “band-aids”: quick-fix measures to address very real, very big problems.  These “measures” are often implemented in a hurried fashion, without much forethought, and end up being a patch-as-you-go solution which doesn’t really work for anyone, but is there so that we can say we have it.

For instance, after Newtown, The Boy’s school realized that in the morning and afternoons, they were allowing parents (and virtually anyone) unfettered access to the school due to drop-off and pick-up for Kids Club (but also clubs and other sponsored events after hours).  The day following Newtown, the door was locked in the morning.  No letter home, no signs on the door.  Nothing.  Because we are almost always first to school, we had to pound on the door to get the custodian to come and open it up for us.  Later that same week was The Boy’s school band concert, held during the school day, and every single parent attending the concert had to be buzzed in, and had to report to the office, sign in, and get a visitors badge.  That’s about 100 people!

some old fire alarm bells by hpeguk from flickr

some old fire alarm bells (by hpeguk via flickr)

After break, they had installed a new bell to push, which rings in the gym so that a kids club worker can answer the door. Can you imagine how often those people are running back and forth (as opposed to, you know, supervising children)?  And what if the person is ringing to be let in for some club other than kids club?  Do they let them in if they don’t recognize them?  And what if there is an event going on in the gym, like a parent meeting, concert, or girls scout ceremony, and that bell rings?  Not to mention that the bell is loud, and rings like an old fashioned fire alarm…  Yup.  A fire alarm sound for all of those kids on the spectrum.  Going off about every 4 minutes.  How nice.

And the response to people who ask these questions is, “We’re working on it.”

I get it.  You want to make your school safe, and you want to make it safe now (although, why this wasn’t considered after Columbine, I don’t know).  Except that a little notification, and some planning and forethought (and maybe a little money spent) upfront would go a lot further than a piecemeal, thoughtless plan like this, that is still being “worked on”.

This is where schools look unprofessional, because it really is.  And this is only an example of the many “band-aids” I witness myself and hear about from others like this, almost on a daily basis. I know educators are short on time and money, but those are really just excuses.  There is no sense in not doing something right the first time, from the get-go, with a carefully thought out plan.  And there really is no excuse.

No Offense, But…

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You know when someone starts a sentence like that, you are going to immediately take offense.  It’s a given.  I’m pretty sure there’s even some physical, defensive response in most people upon hearing that phrase uttered.

The Boy’s class is having a “garage sale” tomorrow to simulate buying and selling products, and I suppose it’s a lesson in social studies.  Of course, with our busy, busy lives over the past couple of weeks, I put off the preparations for this garage sale until this evening.  The idea is that students will find things at home that they do not have a use for anymore, and put those in their desktop sale.  Most kids with autism that I know would (and do) have a real problem with giving up their stuff, so we had a bit of an issue.

I wasn’t sure how many of these “items” we needed, so I contacted a friend who’s daughter went through the same school a few years ago, and asked her if she knew.  She contacted another parent of a 5th grader and reported back to me.  She said this other parent suggested 10-20 items, and that if the kids didn’t want to give anything up, they could do a craft.  My friend asked her if The Boy might draw something (because she knows how much he loves to draw).  This mom responded, “No offense, but it should be something the kids actually want.”

Now, this is secondhand information, and like texts and email, a lot of nuance can be lost.  I’m sure this mom really meant no harm, and she was actually being helpful by passing along information about this event.  But like one of my other favorite phrases (“Don’t worry about it!”), it ends up being immediately offensive, and just by adding “No offense” to the beginning doesn’t give you a pass.  Just because you don’t mean to offend someone doesn’t mean that you won’t end up actually doing it.  It’s a pretty useless prefix.

I know that maybe other 5th graders may not appreciate The Boy’s artwork as much as I do, but there are some really great kids in his class who would probably purchase a few of his items.  In fact some of his “longer works”, which are often pages of comic books that are running through his head, are pretty cool and entertaining.

I’m not upset.  I know that my kid rocks, and I don’t need anyone else’s approval.  But I think the phrase, “No offense…” needs to be put to rest.

apic

Residual Effects of a Fire Drill

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fire_alarm

fire_alarm (Photo credit: auchard)

I bet moms with neurotypical kids don’t even know when they have had fire drills at school.  I bet they don’t even think about fire drills often, if ever.

In our house, fire drills happening at school is huge news.  We rarely know in advance, and yet hear about them for weeks afterwards.

The Boy’s school had a fire drill yesterday, and consequently, our Fun Friday consisted of going to another school in the district after kids club to look at their fire alarms in the gym.  The Boy found that they did not have the proper coverings (the cage-like covers that protect them from balls and other flying objects in the gym), and wanted to go find the custodian to inform him of the fact that they needed to be covered properly.  I suggested that I could email him rather than roaming through a school that is not ours to confront a custodian we don’t know about his naked alarms.  Luckily, The Boy was OK with that.  It was also lucky that The Boy is a bit of a celebrity in the district, and one of their kids club employees is the mom of one of our kids club employees, so that we were able to enter the school and let The Boy do his thing without anyone raising an eyebrow.

And so, for the next week or so, The Boy will be pointing out the different fire alarms he sees wherever we go, and comparing them to the catalog of fire alarms he has in his head, “Those are like the white ones at the middle school!”  As I write this, he is having a pretend fire alarm at the pretend school where he is the pretend gym teacher. “Mmm.  Mmm.  Mmm,” I hear from the dining room.

Back to School Night

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School

I’ll be honest, I skipped the big gym-speech, where parents are packed in like sardines, it’s hot, they talk about the same things every year, introduce the staff, and you can’t hear anything anyway because of all the people who … Continue reading →