Final part 4: You know your child better than anyone else...

The Final Destination:  Homeschool

This was Aiden’s first year in the main inclusive special education room and because of the limited resources both of my sons now shared a teacher and a space (at three years age difference).  Aiden has always been a little more rambunctious than Seamus was and that seemed to frustrate the women in the room often because of his high energy level.  I had made requests on his IEP’s many times that he should be given his own para-educator because of his particular needs; it was always quashed because ‘we are just too small of a school to afford it…at least his basic needs are being met.’  I almost felt sorry for the teacher because she seemed like she was quite incapable of getting it all together and that she was often overwhelmed beyond capacity more than she was not.   This would also be his last year to participate in that classroom; I had already been making the preparations and decisions that likely I would have to pull them from school.

Aside from the other obvious issues in the classroom, there was the lack of speech that the boys were using and as I have often mentioned their specialists were perplexed and concerned that the boys were not talking more.  When it was brought to the school's attention I was told frequently, “Oh, your children will never speak, they are not capable…You have unrealistic expectations.”  I was completely mind-boggled that the speech pathologist could not see past her own pride and then there was the lack of training for the para-educators who often were kindly grandmothers with almost no ability to understand that a kind heart does not always make for an appropriate model to children that still need structure and accountability.  The list was enormous as to the failings that transpired while my sons attended there and I look back and marvel at how the boys even managed to show any signs of improvement in their education.  The truth is there was more regression than progression.  Then the fateful day that would forever change the course of our lives happened; it is the day that I knew the boys would be homeschool children and I would be their teacher.

I had, from time-to-time, worked outside of the home to try to catch up on bills throughout the course of the marriage for various reasons.  At this particular time, I was working an overnight position when I was awoken one afternoon by a call from the teacher.  She had an oddly calm tone in her voice as she was letting me know that Aiden had split his head open and that maybe I should come get him.  It was a call that many parents often dread and fear; it wasn’t until after I had gotten to the school the news just went from bad to worse.  I am certain that my face went from white to ashen then to hot red anger as I saw the damage to my baby’s head.  It was split from the front to the back of it just on the side of only a few inches above his year.  Although it wasn’t bleeding at the moment, the nature of his wound told the whole story.  I turned on the woman with all of the ferociousness of a crazed mountain lioness protecting her cub, “WHAT HAPPENED TO MY CHILD?  How did this happen?”  The octaves to which my voice raised probably couldn’t be measured by practical methods and I saw her eyes avoiding mine as she tried to explain herself.

After some awkward stuttering, she finally told me how she was short-handed that day; that Aiden just ran around too much and was just too hard to be taken care of, so she restrained him in a Rifton chair with an activity for him to do on his own.  For those of you who do not know what a Rifton chair is…it is a chair designed to help children who cannot sit on their own at their desks to do work.  It was not actually designed or meant as a restraint, but an aide for those children that perhaps did not have the physical capacity to sit on their own. 

She went onto admit that she had become busy with other students and had sort of forgotten about him; she wasn’t really sure exactly how long he had been left there.  I stood there speechless as she was admitting to me that she had basically endangered my child’s well-being for the sake of peace and quiet.  Upon remarking this sentiment to her, her response was, “Well, if Aiden would just learn to sit still I wouldn’t have had to keep him in the chair.  I mean we always put him in it so we can work with other students, but the harness my para made wasn’t where I thought it was and she wasn’t here today to find it.”  This was the first time I had been informed that they were doing this to my son.  Restraining a child without parental consent and outside of the original edifices of their IEP was illegal.  This woman was breaking the law and didn’t even seem to care and worst of all she had the gall to blame the child for her own mistake.  I felt sick.  My entire body felt sick at the very sight of this nightmare that I had been living since my oldest son had started in this same room just three years before.

If all of this wasn’t bad enough, she then proceeded to admit that instead of calling me or an ambulance right away she tried to get the bleeding to stop in the classroom (which she actually never called the school nurse either, she called me directly from her room).  Her and a para decided to hold him down (imagine being five, injured, and nonverbal then forcibly held down for hours) to stop the bleeding; she said it almost with pride that they had 'solved' the problem.  I was mortified.

I took my son immediately to the doctors’ office to have him examined, where she took in my story with the same horror and disbelief that I had when I heard the entire incident.  Although the injury was bad enough to warrant stitches, she didn’t want him to have to go through anymore trauma that day and instructed he not be sent back to school for fear of it breaking open.  She then tied a few of his hair together and instructed that if it did open again to bring him back in to see her or the emergency room.  I was to watch for a concussion and keep her posted.  Then she did something amazing and I love her to this day for it…she not only listed in the medical record where and how the injury occurred, but she wrote a letter to the school on our behalf (I still have a copy) stating her own anger at the incident and that she had made record of it for future reference.  It was small vindication and although I have proof of negligence, in the end it didn't really matter. 

The next day I spent all day calling every agency I could think of as I found out that the woman barely got off with a warning for doing something that would ultimately have a child taken from his or her parents.  The sheriff’s office, child protective service, and all of the other branches of the state services told me was the same:  the school board is your only option.  The sheriff’s office actually called it an ‘accident’ while if it had been me leaving my son unattended it would have been called neglect.  Tenure was meant to protect teachers needing security, in this case tenure allowed a woman that should have long before left her job the ability to remain in it.  She continued to hold her position for three years after my sons were pulled from the school.

I knew at that moment that with only two months left in the school year that I would be removing them from that awful place.  They had done their powerful best to keep me from allowing the boys to attend another school district (they have to sign a waiver allowing any child to attend another school and I couldn’t prove that they were not just meeting the boys ‘basic’ educational needs).  On the day that I left with the knowledge they wouldn’t return the following school year, the same smug Psychologist took me aside and said, “I never liked you.  I am glad you won’t be coming back; all you did was make my life miserable.  I never understood why you couldn’t be like other parents and shut up and let us do our jobs.”

The principal told me, “You are just damaging your sons by pulling them from school.  I think all homeschool parents don’t understand just how much college they need in order to teach their children and your sons will never respond to you as they do to teachers.  This will backfire on you.”

What I love most about autism is that it is incongruent and that there are times when I am teaching my sons and I am just not sure that they really understand all of that I am showing them…but one thing that makes it all worthwhile is that they seem to understand that timing is everything.  About six or seven months after I pulled them from school (mind you one of the arguments had been my sons weren’t capable of speech) I was letting the boys each take a lap with me at Relay for Life in my town.  Seamus was with me when their former principal approached us and said, “Hello Seamus!  How are you?  It’s so good to see you!”  She said it to him but was looking right at me with a sort of smug look on her face.

Suddenly Seamus replies, “I’m good. ‘ow are you?”  The look on her face as she looked back and forth between the two of us was just the sweetest feeling ever…not because I had managed to use the speech program at home that they refused to use in school and helped both boys talk in about six months time, but because my son proven them wrong all on his own.  There is no better justice than watching your child vindicate himself and show people that there is no cap on potential; there is no limit on what anyone can do.  I was so proud that I could burst.  He didn’t say more than a word here or there again for a few weeks’ time, but I will say this…timing is indeed everything.  

I knew that my sons were capable of more and I knew that they weren't getting what they needed; however, for a person that once worked for public schools and desired to be a special education teacher...public education failed my sons in the worst way possible.  They were never a priority; they were never going to be given what they needed.  I still beat myself up for not pulling them sooner when I first realized that they would never have the resources that they needed to exceed.  Next series up will talk about homeschooling for autistic children with limited speech)