Wednesday – IEP Meeting Survivors Guilt
Dec. 8th, 2010 11:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermore.
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I have a terrible confession to make: my son’s IEP meeting was not so terrible. The school was very reasonable. They accepted my input and he got two extra accommodations because I thought they might be a good idea and everyone else in the room agreed. All of the advice that people who have had to fight tooth and nail for their kids gave me (“Don’t sign anything!” “Don’t accept what they offer – demand what he needs!”) had to be set aside, because the team presented a very good plan filled with reasonable and practical solutions.
I feel just awful, but it’s not my fault we have a wonderful school. Not perfect; I gave the photos of the bruises my son came home with to the principal, and the looks around the room showed concern and disapproval for what had happened. The principal explained that everyone who works with kids at the school is trained and certified in proper child restraint. She demonstrated on one of the other women what it looks like: the child’s arms are crossed in front of his chest and his hands are held just below his armpits. The adult holds each of a child’s wrists like this using a finger and a thumb, which prevents the adult from using too much force. For a small child, this hold is very effective and non-damaging. It is obviously not what was used on my son to make the marks on his arm. The principal asked if she could have the photos I had printed, and I told her of course. I suspect they will be passed around the next staff meeting.
The principal reported it’s been a long time since she’s had to restrain my son. She only has to mention it when he starts throwing things (“Do you want me to hold you?”) and he stops. Even in a state of agitation, that threat snaps him out of it.
Part of our luck is that by chance he was already attending the elementary school that the kids with behavior problems are sent to. The Positive Attitudes in School Settings (PASS) program is based on this campus, and kids from other area schools who need the program are transferred to take part in it. This isn't just convenient because it means he won't have to get used to a new school; it also means that the staff at this school are used to working with kids like him.
He will get sensory breaks as needed. He will get a set of headphones (the kind used at gun ranges) to help him cope in loud situations. This was my idea, but everyone agreed they should have thought of it. The PASS team has an extra pair they use for other kids with sensory issues, and the Occupational Therapist agreed to pick him up a pair of his own this week to keep with him in the classroom. He can have food as desired thoughtout the day, because it was thought that hunger and blood sugar fluctuations might be exaggerated by his picky eating and his sometimes unwillingness to eat in the loud cafeteria. He is very thin, and a few extra calories from Gold Fish Crackers are not likely to hurt him. The one job given to me as a parent was to send an extra jacket to school to keep in his cubby; he is constantly complaining of being cold, but on warmer days he might not have a jacket with him. I will put an extra one in his backpack tomorrow.
I am a little concerned that they plan to phase out his paraeducator, but the PASS team is supposed to take her place. They will check in on him every 15 minutes (they make rounds at the school and check in on all of "their" kids at this interval) and his teacher will have a walkie talkie to call them down if he starts to get agitated and needs to leave the classroom. The principal is of the mind that the purpose of the PASS team is to not need a para and that having both is redundant; his teacher was skeptical about losing the para, and I’m a bit concerned myself. I think she can either handle my son, or she can handle the other 21 kids in the class. Handling my son plus 21 other children is physically and emotionally impossible for any one human being. I agree that the long-term goal is for Sweet Pea to function independently in a school setting and that it is not ideal for him to be dependent on a one-on-one assistant, but I’m not sure if he’s there yet. For the time being he will have both, and the para will be phased out slowly. If do this doesn’t work, I will tell his teacher to let me know and since I have the right to demand a revision of the IEP, I will call another meeting and ask that a paraeducator be made available again.
He will get 30 minutes of socialization therapy with the school psychologist each week, plus daily social lessons with the PASS Team. He will receive regular rewards and praises to help him work toward the desired goals. The next time the district tests him, they will be told to look at his accommodations and if he needs a break because his attention span is maxed out (as happened during the portion of his math assessment where he scored “0” because he said he was bored and didn’t want to take the tests anymore), he will be allowed a break before testing resumes.
I’m still surprised that they didn’t go with the ADHD classification. The educational diagnostician agreed she’s never seen a child with such a short attention span. A typical child could complete all the tests and assessments in one to two sessions. Most kids with “issues” take 3 or 4. Sweet Pea took 6, which she said is a record for her. She’s never had a child who could not or would not focus like that. The Emotional Disturbance classification is only because on the Autism, ADHD, and Emotional Disturbance scales, he scored higher on the last. The truth was, though, that he scored pretty high on all of them; they just went with the catagory that had the highest overall score.
The most important thing was that this IEP protects him; he can’t be suspended or written up as a discipline problem.
"I don’t believe it benefits them to be suspended, anyway,” the principal told us, “Not even the typical kids. They figure out pretty fast that if they escalate a situation, they get to go home. As far as the kids are concerned, that’s more of a reward than a punishment. And we aren’t going to call you unless things are really out of control for the same reason." They have on two occasions, but on most of his really bad days I've had no idea about it until I showed up and read his daily report.
So now it’s on paper: my son is officially, as of today, not a discipline problem but instead has special needs that must be met. Back in September this idea was awful to me, but I’ve had an emotional growth spurt since then. He is still the same Sweet Pea he's always been, and the label they put on him doesn’t make him any different. He is still my beautiful son, and he is smart and amazing.
I don’t know if it was put in there to butter me up, for one of the comments in his 29 page assessment report was that he likes his teachers and "adores his parents." His adoration is official, too, and is being filed in his permanent record. This is more than a little flattering. who doesn't like to be adored?
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.
.
I have a terrible confession to make: my son’s IEP meeting was not so terrible. The school was very reasonable. They accepted my input and he got two extra accommodations because I thought they might be a good idea and everyone else in the room agreed. All of the advice that people who have had to fight tooth and nail for their kids gave me (“Don’t sign anything!” “Don’t accept what they offer – demand what he needs!”) had to be set aside, because the team presented a very good plan filled with reasonable and practical solutions.
I feel just awful, but it’s not my fault we have a wonderful school. Not perfect; I gave the photos of the bruises my son came home with to the principal, and the looks around the room showed concern and disapproval for what had happened. The principal explained that everyone who works with kids at the school is trained and certified in proper child restraint. She demonstrated on one of the other women what it looks like: the child’s arms are crossed in front of his chest and his hands are held just below his armpits. The adult holds each of a child’s wrists like this using a finger and a thumb, which prevents the adult from using too much force. For a small child, this hold is very effective and non-damaging. It is obviously not what was used on my son to make the marks on his arm. The principal asked if she could have the photos I had printed, and I told her of course. I suspect they will be passed around the next staff meeting.
The principal reported it’s been a long time since she’s had to restrain my son. She only has to mention it when he starts throwing things (“Do you want me to hold you?”) and he stops. Even in a state of agitation, that threat snaps him out of it.
Part of our luck is that by chance he was already attending the elementary school that the kids with behavior problems are sent to. The Positive Attitudes in School Settings (PASS) program is based on this campus, and kids from other area schools who need the program are transferred to take part in it. This isn't just convenient because it means he won't have to get used to a new school; it also means that the staff at this school are used to working with kids like him.
He will get sensory breaks as needed. He will get a set of headphones (the kind used at gun ranges) to help him cope in loud situations. This was my idea, but everyone agreed they should have thought of it. The PASS team has an extra pair they use for other kids with sensory issues, and the Occupational Therapist agreed to pick him up a pair of his own this week to keep with him in the classroom. He can have food as desired thoughtout the day, because it was thought that hunger and blood sugar fluctuations might be exaggerated by his picky eating and his sometimes unwillingness to eat in the loud cafeteria. He is very thin, and a few extra calories from Gold Fish Crackers are not likely to hurt him. The one job given to me as a parent was to send an extra jacket to school to keep in his cubby; he is constantly complaining of being cold, but on warmer days he might not have a jacket with him. I will put an extra one in his backpack tomorrow.
I am a little concerned that they plan to phase out his paraeducator, but the PASS team is supposed to take her place. They will check in on him every 15 minutes (they make rounds at the school and check in on all of "their" kids at this interval) and his teacher will have a walkie talkie to call them down if he starts to get agitated and needs to leave the classroom. The principal is of the mind that the purpose of the PASS team is to not need a para and that having both is redundant; his teacher was skeptical about losing the para, and I’m a bit concerned myself. I think she can either handle my son, or she can handle the other 21 kids in the class. Handling my son plus 21 other children is physically and emotionally impossible for any one human being. I agree that the long-term goal is for Sweet Pea to function independently in a school setting and that it is not ideal for him to be dependent on a one-on-one assistant, but I’m not sure if he’s there yet. For the time being he will have both, and the para will be phased out slowly. If do this doesn’t work, I will tell his teacher to let me know and since I have the right to demand a revision of the IEP, I will call another meeting and ask that a paraeducator be made available again.
He will get 30 minutes of socialization therapy with the school psychologist each week, plus daily social lessons with the PASS Team. He will receive regular rewards and praises to help him work toward the desired goals. The next time the district tests him, they will be told to look at his accommodations and if he needs a break because his attention span is maxed out (as happened during the portion of his math assessment where he scored “0” because he said he was bored and didn’t want to take the tests anymore), he will be allowed a break before testing resumes.
I’m still surprised that they didn’t go with the ADHD classification. The educational diagnostician agreed she’s never seen a child with such a short attention span. A typical child could complete all the tests and assessments in one to two sessions. Most kids with “issues” take 3 or 4. Sweet Pea took 6, which she said is a record for her. She’s never had a child who could not or would not focus like that. The Emotional Disturbance classification is only because on the Autism, ADHD, and Emotional Disturbance scales, he scored higher on the last. The truth was, though, that he scored pretty high on all of them; they just went with the catagory that had the highest overall score.
The most important thing was that this IEP protects him; he can’t be suspended or written up as a discipline problem.
"I don’t believe it benefits them to be suspended, anyway,” the principal told us, “Not even the typical kids. They figure out pretty fast that if they escalate a situation, they get to go home. As far as the kids are concerned, that’s more of a reward than a punishment. And we aren’t going to call you unless things are really out of control for the same reason." They have on two occasions, but on most of his really bad days I've had no idea about it until I showed up and read his daily report.
So now it’s on paper: my son is officially, as of today, not a discipline problem but instead has special needs that must be met. Back in September this idea was awful to me, but I’ve had an emotional growth spurt since then. He is still the same Sweet Pea he's always been, and the label they put on him doesn’t make him any different. He is still my beautiful son, and he is smart and amazing.
I don’t know if it was put in there to butter me up, for one of the comments in his 29 page assessment report was that he likes his teachers and "adores his parents." His adoration is official, too, and is being filed in his permanent record. This is more than a little flattering. who doesn't like to be adored?
