closure

First of all: I would like to give thanks to the wonderful people who did their best to support and integrate my children into the public school's ASD program. The teachers, program coordinator, support staff, EAs, administration, special needs officials from the board, the ABA consultant, speech pathologist, occupational therapist, pediatrician, bus driver, friends, family and other parents.

Now I have learned a few vital lessons about the school environment, and the children in it. When I sent my two severely-language impaired children to school, I had hoped they would receive services sooner, and at an equal quality to that which is advertised as waiting for us at the end of the tunnel, in a few years time. They have been on a wait list to receive intensive behavioural intervention since a few months post-diagnoses.

Here is what I feel to be the checklist for special needs children prior to entering the school system:

• no more than a mild language impairment
• a completely documented and signed portfolio of known medical issues.
• formal recommendations from current service providers and therapists.
• a detailed behaviour management plan.
• a daily communication notebook 

Sitting back to look over the time 'D' spent in school, I wish I had decided to homeschool full-time a little sooner. He had a full year and a half, including some summer school. Sometimes I find myself tearing up, what did I do wrong for him to not fit in at school? What happened there? I have so many questions that will never have tangible answers to, yet it is written all over his face, whenever the subject comes up. Seeing his school-friends was his single motivator for attending school for so long. He came home burnt out, and unwilling to be part of any family activities. He shut down. His communication skills still quite limited for his age, so the sudden disconnection was worse than ever. He was happy, yes of course. He enjoyed many moments at school, indeed he did. 

For some time, my visits to the office or with the staff was pleasant, social, and informative, all of my questions were being answered diligently. Then it happened. My son's eagerness to make friends was turning into a disruptive behaviour. An oversight on everyone's part I'm sure, I had a suspicion that school had taken a turn for the worst when he didn't want to get out of bed in the morning, and showed pent up rage and confusion after getting off his bus. Not until the weekends when he was happy again, did I get to spend time with my little boy. My baby came back out of himself during these times.

Summer school hit. He did well, but for the first time, I could communicate with him about school. The routines had changed, his needs for understanding became more severe, his ability to integrate with NT children had gotten better outside of school. The hours were shorter. The expectations had changed radically. The staff that was to care for him was not all the same. I was advised it was just to make transitions back to school in September that much easier and smoother for everyone. There wouldn't be any academics or therapies offered. So, I took it upon myself to explore his recent report cards and see what we could do to keep his skills up as well, and without interfering with the processes or routines at school. We asked him a great deal about his time at school, with very little success in learning actual context, simply able to see the feelings he was willing to show. During the summer the children brought home a journal every day, which gave us the ability to talk about the events of the day more easily. (I had asked for this during school but they  kept giving us the run-around; ironically this year the ASD classes did implement it).

What happened is this: the school's ASD program was unwilling to budge on standardized care, strategies, or implementations that are used for Every single child within the confines of the contained classroom. I spoke of staggered integration into the mainstream class, and faced looks of concrete expressions.

I am glad I brought my son home to learn and grow, to make his own friends, and to access better therapy interventions not available in the school.