I went to online today, to Sammy's [former, thank god] school's website, and there was a survey there, an apparent attempt to "improve our school." It got me to thinking that I might FINALLY be able to write about what our school experience was last year; so thank you, Kelloggsville, for that, at least. Let me tell you, the experience was NOT good.
Sammy was in 4th grade, last year, and we entered his new school with high hopes. As some may realize, he has some challenges: ADHD, OCD, Tourette's, and anxiety (with some developing paranoia). In light of these facts, I made an appointment with our new principal before school even started; I wanted her to have plenty of time to become familiar with Sammy's "schtuff," and to have the opportunity to ask questions or contact his doctor or therapist; whatever she felt that she needed to do. I requested that she read over the records which I provided, and to please share them with his teacher(s) and school counselor. I stated that we would do whatever was needed to help to facilitate a successful school year for him. I asked about securing a parapro for him (as requested by his physician)...she said "Oh, we don't do that." I was a bit taken aback by that curt, quick refusal, but I was assured that Spencer was in good, competent hands; he would be spending his days with a teacher who was "great" with kids who are "quirky." Um...yeah...not quite.
Let me be clear: This is not about bashing either teachers OR public education; I am a staunch supporter of both. I believe that teaching is the highest form of love; it is truly where everything starts. Where teaching is absent, nothing can grow. This has been my experience. I have loved teachers since before forever.
I won't get into all of the gory details of Sam's 4th grade year~the meetings, the emails, the tears (mine and Sam's), the heartbreak which I felt and subsequent prayer that I said every day that I had to send him to that place ("Please, Dear God, let them be nice to him. Please help him to not feel so alone. Please help him to know that I haven't abandoned him to these people, that I have no choice but to send him there."). Basically what happened is this: No one cared. Not pro-actively. Not in any way that helped my little boy. No one did anything to reach out to him, to touch his heart, to HELP HIM SUCCEED. They saw how heavy he was, and they did nothing to lighten his load.
Another point for clarification: Sam is awesome. Great. Terrific. Funny. Highly intelligent. He is also frustrating. Talkative. Highly energetic. Socially unsure with his peers. He makes errors in judgment because he can't focus long enough to remember this: "Think first, THEN do." Sometimes, however, he is just naughty, plain and simple~because he's a kid. Naughty is what they do, on occasion. At home, and when we are with him, we acknowledge these facts. Why? Because even though he has more acronyms after his name than any kid should, and even though those may be reasons for his behaviors and decisions, they must never be viewed as excuses. Sammy has to learn the same lessons which other children, of all ages, do. This means that we can't use them as excuses, either, and by and large, we don't. We have expectations of and for him, and in general, he is bound by the same rules, discipline, etc..., which were applied to his siblings. However, the conclusion we have reached is this:
Even though all of the kids have to clean their plates, if one of them needs to use a fork instead of chopsticks to achieve the same results, so be it.
I say all of that because I want to be clear about the fact that never, not once, did we ask his school to make exceptions or special rules for him; we just hoped that they could help him to discover different tools. In fact, I actually said to his principal: "We don't want different rules, but we need different tools." Reasonable, right? I offered to do whatever I could. I was told "We'll call you if there is something you need to know. He needs to have the opportunity to figure things out at school, even if that means some bumps along the way. We are preparing him for 5th grade and for the "real world." He must learn to be responsible." All of which is true, and must be acknowledged. All of which I agreed with (and still do) and all of which I agreed to (and regret). The words were right, but the methodology...not so much. I broke my own cardinal rule, and I did not listen to my tummy. I trusted them when they said that they would help him. I didn't press it (!) when his teacher told me that I was neither welcome nor needed in his classroom; so, once a week. I just spent a day in the copy room, doing my thing, hoping that just my being there would be good enough. When the school counselor said that I should try to keep home and school separate, I was willing to try doing that, even though it felt uncomfortable. And still, my son suffered. He was bullied, by students and yes~by teachers. Now, he made plenty of bad choices, and suffered some consequences for his actions, as it should be. But you see, there was never any commendation...just condemnation. What little kid can survive, let alone thrive, in an environment where he spends 6 or more hours a day with adults who hate him and never see that he's good? Does that word~"hate~"seem a little over the top? A bit harsh? Let me skip ahead to the last day of school...
Imagine this scene:
Spencer and I, waiting to say goodbye to all of his friends as they return from a skating party (he did not go skating; he lost the privilege due to unfinished responsibilities at home, I believe). As we wait, the principal arrives at the school ahead of the others. She stands within 5 feet of Sam and I; she says nothing to us. As the children and other staff arrive, no adult (save one, Mr. B, who is fabulous) will acknowledge us standing there. Can you picture it? Forget about me...they are IGNORING a 10-year-old! Sam's teacher and his counselor both walk by, neither woman even attempts a greeting. Fortunately, Sam does not notice, as several of the other students have (thankfully) stopped to say goodbye. As we are finally leaving the parking lot, Sam hangs his head out the window, waving and shouting goodbye, like all of the other kids on the bus and in various cars. He spots his principal, standing there. Waves like a crazed person. "Mrs. D...! Mrs. D...! Bye!!! Bye Mrs. D...!" Mrs. D's response? First, she looks straight at him and says nothing, emotes nothing~not love, not loathing, just...nothing. She then Turns. Her. Back. On. Him. This happened. I saw it. I wish I could say that I was surprised. I'm just grateful that, in all of his excitement, Sam did not notice; he would have been crushed. As for me, this experience has only strengthened my resolve that never again will my son darken the doorstep of Southeast Kelloggsville. I have been so hurt for him, and so...disappointed by these educators, that I haven't been able to write about it until now. I still get choked up, and I haven't even written about the worst parts.
Cut to the survey that the school asks me to complete. Gladly, I will answer these questions. I still hope to speak with the superintendent of the district. Why? True, doing so can't undo the hurt that was done to my boy, who was most certainly "left behind." However, if our bruises can shed a light on what is, in our experience, an inexcusable lack of quality support for special needs children, then sharing this story is the only responsible thing to do.
Below is a synopsis of my "survey answers:"
"What is absolutely necessary to define a "good" education?
1) Consistent and meaningful communication between home and school.
2) A safe, nurturing environment for student, with an emphasis on strong character development and mutual support.
3) A well-educated, enthusiastic, dedicated staff who are willing to extend equal opportunities to un-equal, differently gifted and highly individual students.
The fact is that that there are many demands on teachers today to be everything and more to their students, and this in addition to navigating the very unstable waters of educational politics. This leaves fine educators with precious little time to actually teach, and leaves education in general with severe~and dangerous~deficits.
In my opinion, schools in general and Kelloggsville specifically needs to change two things, and they are co-dependent~not exclusive~of one another. The district needs to do whatever it takes to get our schools back to K - 5 buildings; grade level schooling is a disaster, and has left many children behind. Children who relate more easily with those a bit younger or older than themselves are frequently lonely and oftentimes straight up bullied in what I consider to be an administratively-bred nightmare. But even before the elementary buildings are returned to their previous, somewhat tenuously balanced state, the re-education of our educators must begin. Children face so many hardships in today's world, and while~yes, it is true~educators must prepare them for the "real world;" the "elementary years" are where, in many cases, we leave the last vestiges of our innocence behind. In light of those facts, then, I feel that our teachers must be allowed, and TAUGHT, where necessary, to be even MORE compassionate, understanding and kind, even as they establish rules and teach standards of conduct and concepts of respect and accountability. Children must be taught to "play nice," and to be thoughtful and respectful of others..."real world" lessons that they can not and WILL NOT learn from educators who are, quite frankly too overworked, underpaid, tired and in many cases too disinterested in actually teaching our children because they are so focused on reaching grade level expectations that they have forgotten that they need to reach our children."
