Ever since I wrote Hope is on the Horizon (Part 1) numerous parents going through the Turning 5 process have emailed asking me about the ASD Horizon program. I was extremely cautious but candid with my words. And I always let them know that I was simply giving them my opinion and I urged them to tour the school for themselves.
I still believe in the ASD Horizon program. But like so many other things in the world of special education - what is supposed to be and what actually happens are two totally different things.
It is the South Bronx Public School that implemented the program, I no longer believe in.
I was hopeful about the school and the program when I wrote Part 1. Even though, I was uncertain about whether or not The Boy could thrive in a typical public school - I wanted him to have a chance. And I was hopeful in the teacher and I believed the administration would do the right thing if the program was not appropriate for The Boy.
I want it to be very clear. The ASD Horizon program did not fail The Boy.
The Boy's teacher, failed.
The Assistant Principal and Principal, failed.
And the School District who put the ASD Horizon into practice, failed.
I was going to write a long post...detailing our year. But I won't. It's over. The Boy is out of that school and now he's in a better more appropriate place.
Instead, this post will list all the the things I hope the ASD Horizon program at that school becomes - because The Bronx needs this program.
I hope the teacher does not give up on a child on the first half day of school.
I hope they take the time to learn about autism.
I hope the Assistant Principal does not dismiss parents concerns, telling them to "cálmate" (relax).
I hope the Assistant Princinpal and Principal are forthright when related services are not being provided and work with the parent to ensure their child gets his/her services.
I hope they don't bully the parents within that first month of school, hoping the parent will pull the child out of the school.
I hope they do not make excuses about what they can't do because of budget cuts - that's not an acceptable answer.
I hope the teacher communicates with the parents using a communication notebook. And I hope that if the parent writes to the teacher with a significant concern - her question is answered.
I hope that the Assistant Principal doesn't encourage the teacher to cut off communication with parents.
I hope that in a kindergarten class of six children, every child gets the opportunity to be a Student of the Month.
I hope they will be honest with parents and try to work with them and not against them.
I hope the teacher remains professional and does retaliate against the child.
I hope that if they encounter another parent blogger, they don't print out past blog posts and place them in the child's file. And I hope the Assistant Principal doesn't use blog posts as ammunition to insult the parent.
I hope that if the teacher is absent for weeks at a time, they will place an appropriate substitute special education teacher in the class.
I hope they really work with New England Center for Children consultants - I hope they value their suggestions and implement them in the classroom.
I hope they realize that special needs parents are experts when it comes to their kids. I hope they listen to parents and learn to partner with them.
I hope they don't promote a child to the next grade, even though the child failed every single subject, because they want to keep the child in the district rather than suggest a more appropriate placement.
But most of all, I hope that they all remember the reason why they got into education in the first place.
I can easily recall all of my short comings and failures. But when asked of my accomplishments, I need to think. They do not come as easily.
The stuff that I do for The Boy. I don't chalk that up to much. I don't do anything special. I just do what needs to be done.
Then the other day I read a post by The Empress (Good Day, Regular People). She called it "Hero Stories." She talked about one of my favorite movies and then shared a forgotten story about her son. A day when she was his hero.
I hadn't thought about this day in years, and it made me think of how we --how all of us out here -- have had moments of cape-wearing epicness where we toss aside our risk of injury to save another. (The Empress)
Then she asked her readers to share a time when we were heroes.
And it reminded me of the time when I had to file for an Impartial Hearing.
If you recall, The Boy didn't have the best start to Kindergarten. It sucked, actually. I can say that now that he's out of that school. And he basically failed.
When The Boy started kindergarten, there was no Occupational Therapist (OT) at the school. Even though, the school principal and vice principal assured me there would be one. Even though the program stated that the OT was a critical member of the team.
The Boy is a highly sensory seeking kind of kid. I never would have placed him in a school without an OT.
By the second week of school, I was at odds with the school. They didn't like me and I didn't like them. I asked too many questions and I had been told several times that I should "relax." That's easy to say when it's not when it's not your kid.
I was paying out of pocket for private OT services - $150 per 60 minute session. The Boy's IEP mandate required 90 minutes per week.
By mid October, the school was still without an OT and I was running out of money. So I asked the assistant principal to provide an RSA letter so that I didn't have to continue paying for services. The assistant principal's response? "I've done all that I can do. Call 311."
Three weeks, one meeting (with 8 people), five emails, seven phone calls and over $1,000 (amount of money spent on OT services) later - we received an RSA letter.
Fast forward to February. The Boy's school situation was getting worse and I knew he couldn't go back for a second year. I was touring schools and scheduled a free consultation with a special education attorney. When I told the attorney about paying out of pocket for OT services, she stated I could sue for reimbursement.
In my mind it didn't make sense to pay attorney fees for such a small claim. So I filed for impartial hearing on my own. I filled out the forms, stated the facts and gathered my evidence. I even wrote my opening statement for the hearing.
And on the day of the hearing, the Dept of Ed rep didn't even contest the claim. He knew the school was failing The Boy.
And I won. All my own* without any legal representation. (Remember, I am just a mom, I am not a: lawyer, professional advocate, special education teacher, psychologist, therapist (of any kind) or social worker.)
There is a lot of talk about special needs kids being bullied in school. But parents have to deal with bullies too. Department of Education bullies. I believe The Boy's school tried to bully me. They tried to bully me thinking I'd back down and pull him out. The bullied me by saying I was the problem. They bullied me thinking I'd go away.
I didn't. I fought back. I never gave up. I stood up for The Boy.
The Boy's school failed to provide him with a Free Appropriate Public Education. I could have let it go. I could have been happy with securing the RSA. But I couldn't. In the end, it wasn't so much about the money. It was the sheer principle.
And winning that case gave me the courage and confidence to keep fighting. And by the end of the school year, I had no choice but to file for impartial hearing again so that I could get him out of the school.
And you know what? I won that case too. But that's a post for another day.
The Boy doesn't need to think I'm his hero. He just needs to know that I believe in him enough to keep fighting like one.
*DISCLAIMER: I did consult with an attorney and Advocates for Children regarding the process. Do not take this post as legal advice. If you have an issue with your school and/or services, consult with an attorney or special education advocate immediately.
Today was the the last day of school for New York City Public School kids. It's also the day parents start bragging on Facebook about their kids grades.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not hating on those parents. I'm the first one to brag about my kid when he does something amazing. It's just that based on his report card, I have nothing to brag about. Because The Boy pretty much failed kindergarten and if he were a 'typical' kid - he could have gotten left back.
When I was a kid there were letter grades, now kids are graded by numbers:
4 - Exceeds grade-level standards
3 - Meets grade-level standards
2 - Approaches grade-level standards
1 - Far below grade-level standards
And even though it's supposed to be a special education class for children with autism, The Boy got a 1 in almost every single subject. It was no surprise to me that he got a 3 in Reading. But everything else? A big fat 1.
For the most part, I don't care. Because I have an understanding of The Boy's autism. I know that the way the material was being taught was both inappropriate and difficult for him.
I also understand that grades - in the grand scheme of things - don't matter. Because I know a grade will not determine how much The Boy actually knows. And I know goals are what really matter. And he's met a lot of personal goals this year.
Which is why I don't understand why The Boy got a 1 in Personal and Social Growth? (Okay, maybe this grade bothers me a little bit.)
This year, The Boy had a friend from school over. They played all afternoon and since then he's been asking for her and his other classmates.
This year, The Boy asked "Hey where's Dad?" when he realized he wasn't home yet.
This year, The Boy has made gains in potty training and self help skills like dressing and grooming.
This year, The Boy's spontaneous speech has made me stop dead in my tracks.
This year, The Boy learned how to count to 100.
This year, The Boy started typing on the iPad - searching for things he wanted to watch.
This year, The Boy's handwriting improved.
This year, The Boy drew a picture (rather than writing what he was asked to draw).
This year, The Boy raised his hand in class when he wanted to speak.
This year, The Boy sat in a crowded cafeteria and managed to eat his lunch.
This year, The Boy succeeded in an environment where he was set up to fail.
This year, in spite of all his challenges at school he has toughed it out. And he's made progress. Maybe it's not up to the teacher's standards but The Boy continues to surpass mine.
Because I know the amount of work he puts in.
Because I know the effort he makes.
Because I see how hard he tries.
And it's a shame that The Boy's teacher couldn't see the same.
