Ask Them to Put It In Writing

Our local chapter of the Autism Society has a regular monthly “Friends and Fun” party at the rec center of a local church where kiddos on the spectrum and their siblings can come and celebrate their birthdays with other kiddos in a non-judgmental setting. We set up some games like Twister, and there are ping pong tables, and then there are also some more structured games, but no one is forced to play, only encouraged. There are snacks, cupcakes, balloons, and even presents for the birthday kids. For kiddos who attend and are not celebrating a birthday, it’s a chance to get some social interaction on their own terms.

It’s also an opportunity for autism parents to meet and vent about issues their having, seek comfort from those who understand, and even advice. This past weekend, I struck up a conversation with a mom who I have come to respect because of her knowledge of special education law, and her commiseration with the state of our school district when it comes to autism awareness. Over the past couple of months, I have been sharing with her what I’ve found out about the transition to high school, and she is eager to hear because her son is about two years behind The Boy.

I told her that it seems like we have two choices, and that the IEP will not be the driving force behind The Boy’s education, as it should be. I told her that I’m not sure how far I would get fighting the system as it is without involving lawyers and spending money I don’t have.

She shared a tip that worked for her, and I thought I would share it with you, as well.

When her son transitioned from primary to elementary school, they attempted to put him in the resource room for the entire day, even though he had had success at the primary school with the proper supports. She knew he could handle general ed classes with continued support and that the school was making this decision based on staffing. She simply told them to put their rationale for their decision in writing. Quickly, the school changed their tune, and her son was placed in general ed classes with supports.

Why?

Because when they put something in writing, they have to be able to defend it legally and they couldn’t. This tip is brilliant. It may not work as well for big issues, but for the smaller ones, it most definitely will, especially when you are dealing with personnel who are not all that familiar with the law, but know enough that putting things in writing could potentially come back to bite them in the ass.

Add this tip to your bag of tricks and pass it on. It’s simple, but potentially powerful.

ed law 101

The Two Hour Delay

You might be an autism parent if...The effects of a two hour delay last all day longOur school year has been riddled with two hour delays. And although my recent posts have been fairly centered on my (adverse) reaction to these, they do negatively affect The Boy, as well. As always, if he can expect it, and be prepped for it, the result is mitigated. But if it comes as a surprise, and is combined with other students being absent, teachers being late… It’s not very pretty, and this was the case this past Monday.

I understand why the district does it. They try very hard to avoid cancelling school because there is no such thing as a make up day in the South. They could very easily build in some days, as this is the second year in a row that we have had a dearth of these routine-upsetters, but that would take forethought and planning… and I digress. The problem is that our district encompasses many long miles of coastline, the east end of which is very susceptible to flooding during heavy rains. There is basically one road going in and out of town, and there is one very small school there. But if those sixteen kids can’t go to school, then the rest of the district has to close too. Even if there’s a chance they may not be able to make it, or the wind will be too strong, or there just may be water over the road… I am exaggerating, but only slightly.

The district needs to take a hard look at their policies. Two hour delays may not seem like much, but it only takes three to add up to a full day of instruction lost. Couple that with the detrimental effect on kids like The Boy (and neurotypical parents like me), and we are starting to have a serious problem.

Monday evening, The Boy asked when the next two hour delay would be. That’s not something I can predict, considering the last two were for no apparent reason. At that time, I pulled up my Weather Channel app, which said no chance of rain until next Tuesday. Now, as weather forecasts are wont to do, this Friday looks like rain and a chance of snow in the AM. If that forecast remains, you can bet there will be a delay. And now our job is to prep for that possibility…

Big Stuff Coming This Year

2016 is going to be a big year for us. I’ve already set up a meeting with our autism specialist and the transition coordinator for next week to talk about The Boy’s transition to high school. Yes, high school.

yikes.

high school

In our state, there are different programs in which a special education student can enroll for high school, and you kinda have to pick which track you’re going to pursue before you even start. The Boy could try to do the full curriculum, but with deficits in math and language arts, I’m leaning toward the track that is labeled “occupational,” which emphasizes work skills and experience. If he wanted to, he could attend a community college with this type of diploma, but couldn’t directly enroll in a university. That’s where I’m leaning, knowing what I know now, but that’s why I want to meet. I want to know the details and make an informed decision. I also want to include The Boy in some of our decision making.

We are also looking forward to building our house which will allow The Boy to go to the high school he is planning on. We’re several months behind due to some unscrupulous contractors (I think they are rather requisite for any home-building project), but are excited to be filling our building permit applications this week. And I can finally start visualizing our new home.

Big changes coming our way. And this little mama is doing what she does best – planning, and planning, and planning…

No News Isn’t Necessarily Good News

Communication from the school regarding The Boy has dwindled down to virtually nothing.  And I learned the hard way when The Boy was first in preschool that assuming that no news is good news is never a good idea.

He started preschool at his home school in January after being kicked out of his speech-based preschool run by the hospital. In March, his dad and I went to teacher conferences and asked about kindergarten. The teacher laughed and said, “Oh he won’t be ready for kindergarten next year! We’re going to recommend he do another year of preschool.” She waited 3 months to tell us she didn’t think he’d be ready. We went home and started looking for a house in a district with better schools and a better reputation for kids with autism.

Question Mark Graffiti by Bilal KamoonAnd now, everyone from his school has gone dark… Maybe I’m gaining a reputation for being “that mom” and they don’t want to poke the bear. I don’t know. I do know that the district is depending on a TA with three other children on her load to act as my son’s primary special education teacher. The teacher who teaches his special education math and language arts classes was out for a week last week, but tends to freak out about things that aren’t very freak-out worthy. I’m supposed to get an IEP progress report with his report card, and haven’t yet received one although I’ve had the report card for over a week.  His classroom teachers don’t often communicate directly with home, and expect parents to “look online” for assignments, tests, grades, everything. That makes their job easier, and mine infinitely harder (which assignments have been modified, are the due dates and number of questions the same for my kid, or not?). Two of his teachers have started a texting thing, where they will send out mass texts about upcoming quizzes and tests – great! Except the last text I got was on a Sunday, saying there was a test the next day… I was signing his agenda every night, and that is also supposed to be where assignments are written, but it’s pretty blank now, so I haven’t been checking or signing it.

They’ve taken him out of a social skills class (that’s in his IEP), and put him with his TA for an hour at the end of the day. They still call it “Social Skills” but the teacher is listed as his TA (is that even legal? I asked the principal in my last email and she didn’t respond to that question), and from what I can tell there are no other kids in it. They work on getting homework done. I don’t know if the class he left remains, or if they reassigned that teacher. She also used to teach him math, but they took him out of her class for that, as well (and she was a good one).

I’d love to sit down with The Boy’s TA over coffee and just have a heart to heart with her. Let her know that I believe she is the only thing keeping my kid afloat over there. Let her know that it’s not fair for the district to use her like they are. And let her know that she doesn’t have to try to solve everything herself. I think she’s trying to keep me from worrying.

But the lack of communication is making me nervous. Time to investigate, I guess.

Yet Another Schedule Change

schedulesIt seems that several times a year since The Boy has been in middle school, there has been a sudden inexplicable schedule change. Sometimes it’s the same teacher, same class, but he has been moved to a different hour.  Sometimes, the teacher changes, and sometimes, everything changes at once.

I’m not sure why the school thinks this is appropriate, especially for students who are in the special education program, and whose anxiety is triggered by any small amount of change, let alone massive schedule changes. And the changes in this instance affect only special education students in seventh and eighth grade – the very populations for whom you should be striving for continuity!

The principal was explaining to me when we met that there were few on staff who could “get through” to The Boy, explaining that his TA was excellent, and was the only one who could do this consistently. It seems counter-intuitive then, to remove a teacher from his schedule entirely, one with whom he has built a relationship, when up until now she has taught him math and social skills.  How does a child form relationships with adults when he doesn’t know how long he will see them on a regular basis?

It may seem small in the whole scheme of things, but moves like this make me question if the decision makers know anything at all about students with special needs, and especially those with autism.

Turning it Around

Sometimes what makes me most proud of The Boy is when he is able to turn it around. Heading for a meltdown, but able to stop, relax a bit, refocus, and get back to work.

when the school calls...A couple of weeks ago, I was at my desk at home, preparing to go to work. I got a phone call from the school, and it was the counselor (not a usual person to call). She explained that The Boy was in her office because he had gotten upset in Language Arts, and had become destructive, throwing things, and sweeping things off of desks.  This is not typical for The Boy unless he is very upset.  The counselor said, “He thought maybe he should call you,” and I replied, “Ok…” I was sure he was going to ask me to come pick him up, which I don’t often do, as that would teach him that he can escape the tough stuff. Besides, I have to work, and don’t get paid unless I do, so there’s that.

“What’s up, Bub?”

“Today is the same as yesterday,” he said.

“Does that mean that Friend-Who-Is-A-Girl is not at school today?”

“Yeah. She moved,” he said, whining.

“I don’t think so, Bub. I think she’s just on vacation or has a cold or something.  But here’s the thing.  I know you’re upset, but throwing things and knocking things off of desks is not a good way to handle your anger, right?”

“Right.”

“And going to school is your job, and you need to be in class, right?”

“Right.”

“So what’s the plan? Are you going to take a breath and go back to class?”

“Yeah, I think I can do that,” he said, and handed the phone back to the counselor.  She didn’t sound at all sure that this was a good idea, but I know my son.  Once he has decided upon a course of action, he does it.  And he did.

The TA emailed me later that day to explain that there had been a substitute teacher in language arts, and she had been called away, so she didn’t want to leave him in class with someone who didn’t know him, and that after we talked on the phone, he had an excellent rest of the day.

I think many of us have a hard time “turning it around”.  It’s hard for me to focus on the positives of a situation that is making me tear my hair out, or to switch gears right in the middle of something.  But I am so proud of this young man being able to do this.  Proud and hopeful.

The Spirit or the Letter

This post is almost an addendum to yesterday’s. I got a progress report from The Boy’s science class. He has a B-. Great! Except it’s not.  Here’s why: he received 100 percent on every assignment, and a 95 on the one project they have done this quarter. Why a B-? Because he got a 67 on a test last week.

Again, as a teacher, I would look at this student’s grades and say to myself, “Something doesn’t add up here. If my assessment (test) was a true assessment of whether or not this student knows the material, it is not reflecting that accurately. Why not?” In this scenario, either the grading of the homework is not a true reflection, or the assessment is not a true reflection.  And when you add in that the project (which more often shows what a student really understands than a multiple choice test) received a 95, you begin to think the fault lies with the test.

quizAfter investigating, I found out the test had been modified. Great! Except it’s not.  It was only 15 questions. This is a major flaw in test design.  If the teacher made it fewer questions to modify it, she has effectively made it harder to earn an A. That’s a problem.

There’s no easy answer here, and I know in this case, at least everyone is trying to help. But. If my son knows the material, a 67 shouldn’t stand in the gradebook. According to the “letter” of grading, he earned it, but according to the “spirit” of grading, it’s not accurate, and something should be done about it.  I wouldn’t have let it stand as a teacher (you do have the ability to throw out a test and re-do it…), and I’m not sure what to do about it as a parent, except talk to the teacher, and see what we can come up with.  I don’t want to come off as I-know-more-than-you-about-assessment, but at the same time, I’m a stickler for fairness.

What do you think?

I Must Have Jinxed It

Everyone knows that when things are going well, you jinx it by actually stating how well things are going, right? Remember when I posted about how hopeful I was for 8th grade?

Now I’m nervous.

Went to back to school night last week and found out the teacher I left work to meet with the previous week, who would kind of replace his ASD teacher who was leaving the school would in fact NOT be teaching him anything.  He also didn’t have art on his schedule, and no one knew who his homeroom teacher would be.

You think kids with autism have a hard time with change, we autism moms have a hard time, too.

Yuck.

Monday, The Boy started the school year, and for the first time since he started school in kindergarten, I felt like I didn’t have a teacher to contact who would know what was going on with him.  No one who really had a good idea of the whole package – his IEP requirements, what classes he should have, triggers, calming techniques, how his overall day went… everything.  He seems to have a couple of teachers who have a partial picture, and that doesn’t sit well with me.

When he came home, I asked him if he had art, which was supposed to have been added back to his schedule.  He said no. And now I’m asking myself, “Is the second day of school too soon to go into That Mom mode?”

There’s so much going on right now, I’ll probably just wait and see before I panic. I sure hope I’m wrong.

What’s in Store for Next Year

Well, I guess I didn’t need all that battle gear for our IEP.  Apparently I had made my wishes clear in the email I had sent to The Boy’s teacher specifying that I did want him to have access to his general ed peers, you know, as in, least restrictive environment?? But there are changes coming for next year.

The progrIEP documentationam teacher will now only be at The Boy’s school part time because they will be spreading her autism knowledge throughout the county, now. In other words, they are no longer funding the pilot program, and don’t want The Boy’s middle school to become a magnet school for kids on the higher functioning end of the spectrum, so they are spreading her too thin to try to knock some sense into the teachers at other schools who act as if they’ve never seen a kid with autism before.  My God be with her, because that will be a Sisyphean task.

In the meantime, The Boy’s day will not look too much different except that his social skills class will be a pull-out from his electives, and combined with the pull-out for speech, he could potentially be pulled out of his elective classes four days out of five for a half hour.  That’s a recipe for some negative behavior, if you ask me, but they didn’t, so The Boy (and they) will have to deal with it.

I mentioned that we will be  building a house in-district, to which they responded very happily, and made it clear that if we were not residing in said house by the time 9th grade rolled around, The Boy would be placed in his current home high school.  NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.  Even if we are not in said house by then.  But I will fight that battle if and when I need to.

I’m crossing my fingers for these plans not to change too much between now and August. I’m pleased I didn’t have to fight, and encouraged by the team in place. Now to get the house built…

The Times, They Are A-changin’

A few weeks ago, I wrote about how the pilot program that we fought to get The Boy into will not be extended into the high school.  And tomorrow, I meet with the IEP team to discuss the plans for next year, after hearing through the grapevine that the pilot program in the middle school is being stripped down, as well.  Hence, the fabulous “opportunity” to place The Boy into a resource room for all of his cores! Blech.  Do they really think I’m that dumb?  But I digress…

Our fear is that without the pilot program extending into the high school, the district will most likely re-assign The Boy back to his home school… Do you remember his home school? I do. It wasn’t a good experience. And if that middle school that he attended for one quarter was any indication, I doubt the high school he would attend would be remotely better.

The Man and I have been in deep discussion and thought ever since these changes became apparent.  We’ve been considering options for the future of our little family.  And we’ve been property-shopping.

Even before this all came about, The Man and I were keeping our eyes peeled for an affordable bit of property on which he could build us a house.  Not hire a builder to build us a house.  This would be The Man, building us a house, with the help of some of his friends in the trades.  You see, this has been a dream of his for awhile.

So when our hand was forced, and the school district seemed likely to change The Boy’s placement for the worse, The Man and I decided that now was the time to go all in, buy a plot of land, and start building on that end of the district so that, at the very least, The Boy could attend high school with people he knows.

We closed on our lot today.

New Beginnings

More change is coming our way, as building a new house means selling our current house, and living somewhere else temporarily until the new house is built.  A lot for a kiddo on the spectrum.  But I’ve already started prepping him.  And he is actually looking forward to being able to sleep in later and a much shorter bus ride. 🙂