Communication Skills

Today’s timeline:

10:32 AM – I get an email from The Boy which seems to indicate that A) someone told him drivers’ ed is not available for him – unsure if they told him “never” or “not right now,” and B) someone told him that he can’t hug girls – an ongoing issue that the school has admitted they have no idea how to handle. Two negative interactions with authority figures, and he is upset.

11:18 AM – The Boy’s Business teacher emails me and the special ed teacher to say he had arrived 15 minutes late – an ongoing issue that I don’t believe has even been addressed, other than to mark him absent (?) – and also that The Boy sat down and began to “color.” When asked to put it away, he got angry and left class. (Why they insist on saying “color” and “coloring” as if he’s a toddler, I don’t understand. It’s super dismissive. He is drawing, but I digress.)

11:27 AM – The Boy’s special ed teacher responds, asking if he returned to class because he had brought his “coloring” stuff back to her room and left again.

12:09 PM – I respond asking someone to update me, and if my son is ok.

It is now 12:35, and no one has responded to me.

If he had an aide, like he had in middle school, the aide would have known he needed to decompress upon entering Business class, and explained to the teacher to let it go this time (and indeed, would have made sure he was on time to class). If he had an aide, she might have been able to help him regulate his emotions so he could stay in class. If he had an aide, they would no where my child was. If he had an aide, maybe she could respond to me to let me know my son is safe and sound.

Three weeks ago, something similar happened when he got upset upon boarding a bus for a field trip and noticing the girl he has an interest in was absent. I received emails from him saying he got left behind, that he couldn’t find his special ed teacher, yet no email or notification from the school. When I called, the secretary kept trying to put me through to the special ed teacher’s room, and there was no one there. Finally, I sent my mom over to find out if they even knew where my son was. He had started walking toward the highway, and the new assistant principal (who kept advocating for him to just go home with my mom) didn’t alert anyone that she had him. The principal and the police liaison got in a car to go find him… After my mom arrived, SHE called me to update me, and it wasn’t until much later that the principal called to tell me what had happened.

I shouldn’t have to wonder about my son’s whereabouts and safety. I shouldn’t have to contemplate a $500 monitoring system like AngelSense because school personnel can’t be bothered to let me know what’s going on.

I think The Boy is much better communicating, at this point, than school personnel. When/if they get back to me to let me know my son is safe, I’ll be requesting a meeting, ASAP. This is beyond the pale.

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Sad to Lose My Bright Spot

My little kindergartener’s mom called today to say she won’t be coming back to me for tutoring.  She’s not verbal in the same way The Boy is not verbal, and her mom said she didn’t really know me, and you couldn’t be too careful, when she can’t tell her parents about anything that happens to her.

I get it.  Believe me, I do.

But I can’t deny that it hurts, and it makes me sad.

Once, when I was still doing my teacher thing, I was accused by a parent of putting my students in danger of heatstroke by having them march in a parade in 80 degree weather.  I’ve been called a lot of things over the span of my career, but that one really, really hurt.  That someone would think that I would ever harm one of my students was so wrong, such an unwarranted injustice to me…  Needless to say, it stayed with me.

As does this.  I looked forward to working with her, because I saw so much of my son in her, and she was a joy, a JOY, to work with.  I wish her well, and hope she gets every support she needs to become as independent as she can possibly be.  I hope she is able to advocate for herself someday.

Teaching can break your heart sometimes.

Broken heart symbol

Sunday Shout-Out: NAA’s Little Shop of Hope

 

English: Finnish road sign no. 791. Emergency ...

The National Autism Association has a shop on their site that they call NAA’s Little Shop of Hope – The Big Red Safety Shop.  They sell safety and advocacy items that are especially useful if your child is a wanderer.  I particularly like the stickers, iron-ons, and temporary tattoos that have an emergency number to call if your child gets lost.  I have experienced a few moments of panic at a mall when The Boy was younger, and more recently at his choir performance, where I just couldn’t find him for a few minutes.  I would have had a bit more piece of mind if he had had something on him that had my phone number, for sure.

I also like the cards that you can pass along to someone who is not understanding your child’s public meltdown.  I’ve never used these, but have lost count of the number of times I could have.

Please check it out, or pass it along to someone who might find these resources useful.