I Got This

If you've been reading for a few weeks, you may remember back in September when I mentioned our issues with my son's IEP and those involved (or, um, not) with it here and here. Since nothing really IEP-worthy had come up in our homeschooling needs thus far, I was content to put it on the back burner for the time being. To be honest, aside from securing paid speech therapy, we had little need for an IEP - at least at the preschool level. My son is diagnosed with autism and an expressive-receptive speech disorder, but he is also academically gifted and compensates extremely well for any deficits related to his diagnoses. I have worked with him on speech every day for years. I have thoroughly researched and implemented an ever-changing sensory diet to meet his sensory needs. He has improved steadily, sometimes in leaps.

Our school district did pick up the tab for our speech services once Little G turned 3. That was a nice relief after paying it out of pocket for almost a year after tracking it down myself. But really, I can't think of much else they've done for us. Perhaps it is the now clouded view I have of them after the rather epic failures on their part when my daughter, as a Kindergarten student, was being bullied verbally, emotionally, and physically by other students who were repeat offenders. And when it happened again in 1st grade, if to a lesser degree. Or maybe my opinion is somewhat skewed after being unceremoniously dumped by our district's special education people into the lap of the virtual charter school with no direction whatsoever. Take your pick; I'm not impressed.

I called the special education department for our charter the same week we were dumped. I've yet to talk to a human being, but I've now left three messages on various voice mail services that claimed someone would get back to me soon if I did. No one has. My son's teacher contact wants a copy of his IEP, but for what? So we can needlessly entwine ourselves in miles of red tape and frustration so another group of people can fail to meet my son's needs? No. I'm over it.

IEP stands for Individualized Education Plan, and the purpose of it is to help children (usually with disabilities) succeed in the pursuit of their education. To date, I have seen nothing that an IEP could do for my son that I could not or have not accomplished myself for him. Since I am the one helping him reach his educational goals, and I would say I'm doing good job since he has never been in a public bricks and mortar school and he is doing first grade Math, Language Arts, and Phonics easily at age 5, even just attempting to involve the IEP people at this point is only causing needless frustration. It is clear that doing their jobs is an inconvenience, even for such a low-needs family as ours. So fine. My son certainly isn't missing out on anything by having these people or that piece of paper absent from his life. Believe that I would be The Parent No One Wants to Deal With if the opposite were true, because I wouldn't just quietly accept the fact that 90% of the people I have encountered thus far in special education don't want to do their damn jobs.

I learned early on in life that we're basically on our own; things like IEPs are there to hold people accountable when they don't do their jobs. Unfortunately, it's almost always easier and overall more beneficial to just educate myself and do it myself rather than deal with all of the ridiculous stress and responsibility avoidance of people who seem to work harder to avoid their work than they would need to if they just did what their job titles require of them.

In which I do some venting...

If you ever want to know EXACTLY where you stand with your school, school district, or special education contacts, simply remove your children from said school district's schools and see what happens. I always felt like I might eventually put my kids back in school at some point. Now I know I won't. This morning sealed it, but this morning was just the final straw.

At the end of last school year, I wrote a sincere thank you letter to R's teacher and e-mailed it. Despite the less than desirable issues with public school, first grade had not been a terrible year because my daughter's experience in the classroom had been positive. At the beginning of last school year, the paperwork to homeschool R was halfway done and she was only in school to bridge the time/attendance gap. Upon learning this, her teacher called me and was very supportive. She said that she understood if I decided to homeschool, and that it would be her (the teacher's) loss because Reezle really added something to the group. The teacher also offered her help if we went that route should any questions arise. As it turned out, she homeschooled her own children for a while. Impressed with the new teacher, we decided to keep R there for first grade.

The teacher and I communicated often by e-mail, so I had no doubt she would receive the letter. But I never heard a word back. As the weeks and months passed by, I wondered if maybe she wasn't logging in over the summer or if perhaps she didn't receive it. I still don't know.

As the start of this school year approached, I wasn't sure if our virtual charter would be contacting our former school or not, so I felt it prudent to make the call myself and talk to the principal. She had become an ally, so I thought, and I felt that we got along well despite a bit of a rocky start. When I told her that R would not be returning, it was clearly a surprise. The call was abruptly ended; there were some awkward well wishes, and the phone was quickly passed off to the school secretary. I can't explain exactly what more I wanted out of that conversation, but suffice it to say it was something more than what I got.

Today I spoke with the director of special education about getting Little G's IEP faxed to his teacher contact through our virtual school. She informed me that she'd mail it to me because a release would be required to fax it, then very unceremoniously informed me that she would no longer be dealing with my son's IEP because he was not attending school in the district. What? Yes, we were dumped, since we are "no longer IN the school district". You know, even though we are.

But you know, I shouldn't care. This county and district have been an epic FAIL at:

* Providing speech services through Early Intervention. They had none, so I taught my son sign language and found and paid for our own speech services until G was of IEP age and the district took over covering the tab.

* Providing occupational therapy. There was a period of time where I showed up for weeks and a therapist did not, so I read a bazillion books on dealing with sensory processing disorder, hypotonia, and motor skills and created a highly-effective sensory diet for him.

* Enforcing their own rules and policies on bullying.

Now, I'm not big on formalities. Okay, maybe I am. But you know, that teacher could have said, "Thanks, I enjoyed working with R, too." The principal could have been less abrupt, since she started at that school when we did and we have worked closely over the past 2 years. I even sent her an e-mail follow-up when the bus stopped here and beeped for Reezle on the first day of school, just to remind her we were enrolled elsewhere, and wished her a good school year at the new school. No response. How long would it have taken to fire back a quick, "Noted. Good luck to you, too!" And the special education director? We've worked together since Gavin was a baby! Her demeanor was perhaps most disappointing of all. You know how someone acts at the very moment they stop pretending to like you? Yeah. That.

The feeling I get is that they are quite pleased to be rid of us. Which, I guess shouldn't surprise me. I was right in everyone's face all the time holding them accountable and expecting them to *gasp* do their jobs. But I realize now that any kindness or concern was fake, and all of the genuine appreciation I had for the things they did manage to do - which I expressed often and via thank you e-mails - was misplaced. And I have to admit, that stings a little. Or a lot. These people walked a difficult road with our family, and while it wasn't always a pleasant journey I did believe the consideration was genuine. Now I know it wasn't.

Whatever. At least I walk away knowing I did the right thing, and acted in a way that I feel good with. But somehow, I'm sure they all feel the same way.