End of Year Ponderings

We have just finished another school year.  And I am exhausted.

No, really.

My dear son is a very bright kid with gross learning disabilities.  He has had an IEP since he was 3 and we did our 14th and final IEP for his senior year this Spring.  The journey has been, and continues to be, long.

It seems every year we have at least one teacher who doesn’t implement the IEP.  We can work really hard to get an excellent IEP document and then spend the entire next school year trying to get a recalcitrant teacher to just do the requirements.  Yes, I can tell it is the end of the year because grace has been strained almost to the breaking point.

I know some of you get what I am saying.

I know they are busy.  And I know they are juggling many things.  Truly, I appreciate that.  The problem is: when they don’t do their job, it is my SON who feels like the failure.  The teacher fails and doesn’t know it, or doesn’t care.  Unfortunately, the feeling of failure falls on my child.

And that angers me.  Really.  I have to pray A LOT when we find ourselves in this kind of place.

One wants to extend grace to allow a season of getting to know your child.  But at some point, a teacher just needs to do what is necessary to teach the child – even if it means he has to get outside his comfort zone to do so.  So often I feel like saying to the teacher:  “IT IS NOT ABOUT YOU!!  If you think it is about you, you chose the wrong profession!”

Alas, I don’t say these things.  But I certainly feel and think them.

I am a very educated parent.  I have a significant level of understanding of the law, the regulations, the requirements.  And I am an advocate by training and experience.  This is how I made my living early on in my professional career.  I think most people would say I am good at it.

But what I have come to see (yet am struggling to accept) is that it doesn’t matter how vigilant, engaged, or gracious I am.  If there is a teacher who doesn’t want to help and just wants to do things the way he/she has always done them, it is going to be a rough year.

I HATE that.  I try so hard to be kind, gracious, engaged, active, encouraging, etc.

I was struck during this latest episode with the distinct awareness that I had done all I could do and the Lord was pleased with my stewardship.  He does not expect me to be able to change the recalcitrant teacher or the disengaged administrator who allows it to happen.  He only holds me and my husband accountable for our stewardship responsibility in being the best advocate for the child He has entrusted to our care.  He will hold them accountable for their failures.

My prayer has to remain for my son.  That God would protect his heart, assure him of His love, encourage him concerning his future.  God has a plan for this boy/man.  Somehow the difficulty of the journey is preparing him for that task.

It grieves me.  But I can trust Him.

Still walking it out,

Shannon

Changes: A Decade of Autism

Birthdays are more than chronological dates on a calendar. These moments in time spur us to remember the past and reflect on the future. Our youngest son Fletcher celebrated his tenth birthday recently. As such, I found myself thinking through how things have changed for me as this first decade of autism draws to a close.

As I thought about these past ten years, I found myself gazing at pictures that commemorated stops along the way. As I looked at these old pictures, I am reminded of how I have changed from the young man in the family album.

The young man in the photos truly believed that through determination, hard work, and education, he could change the world. Driven by a father who told him, “Son, you can be and do anything in this life you choose to do,” this young man sought to prove his father’s proclamation. However, along the way something called autism changed him.

Physical Changes

First, I noticed that my body has undergone change during our decade of autism. For one thing, Fletcher has made me much fitter over this time. When our little red tornado came to us, I was sixty pounds heavier. My fear of not being around to care for him has spurred me to become an avid treadmill walker during the past decade. I have run three half-marathons in that time and look more like a distance runner than a former collegiate football playing defensive lineman.

Another startling fact that I discovered in the pictures is that over the years, my hairline has pursued the nape of my neck more relentlessly than Sherman’s March to the Sea. Although troubling to most males, this doesn’t overly concern me for when I had hair, it tended to mimic the mane sported by Cosmo Kramer in the old Seinfeld episodes. As a result, being follicle-challenged has been a blessing and not a bane for me.

Mental Changes

Second, I noticed that my estimation of my abilities has changed over these years. When I look into the eyes of Fletcher’s dad back in 2002, I see a person who believed that he was a force of nature. When I see Fletcher’s dad in the mirror now, I am reminded of his frailty as one of God’s creatures in daily need of God’s grace and mercy. Some might call this a growth in wisdom; others may name it a growth in experience. Whatever you call it, I know that I am not as “smart” as I was a decade ago.

Relational Changes

Third, I noticed a difference in the other two members of our tribe. Our son Tucker, who was only three at Fletcher’s birth, can now look his old man straight in the eye. He has developed into  a quick-witted and caring young man. I cannot help but think that in some way, Christ is using Fletcher’s situation to craft his big brother into a man who will one day become a caring husband and father.

Another change that I have noticed is how my bride Brenda looks more radiant to me than the day she ran down the aisle to marry me. As I think about my two decades with Brenda, I cannot think of another who I would rather work on living out Ephesians 5 with for the rest of my life.

Eternal Changes

Fourth, as I gaze at these pictures, I think about Jesus. I think about how I have had the joy of telling others about Him as He gives me grace through Fletcher’s smile. God seems to know that Fletcher’s grin serves as manna for me on hungry days, and those days, like His manna, never seem to end.

I think about the IEP meeting I just left this morning and how everyone has “seen” the gospel (although clumsily incarnated) through my consistently loving them and continually mentioning His “message” during our meetings.

I think about how Christ has helped me see the beauty in the small steps that Fletcher has taken over the past decade and of the large ones he will take in eternity; a hope that I owe to a merciful Nazarene carpenter from antiquity who took my little boy’s name to the cross with Him (Matt 19:14).

And finally, I think about the satisfaction I receive when I have the opportunity to glorify Christ as I serve my precious little boy. Attending IEP meetings, changing diapers, holding him when he is scared, are not bothersome when I remember Paul’s admonition: “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31 ESV). I am comforted in these duties because it is in them that I truly feel the presence of Christ (Isa 41:10).

Well, that is enough for now. Fletch will be arriving home from school soon and there are tasks that I must complete. Before I leave you, please allow this foolish, balding, shell of a man to encourage you by saying, “Make everyday with your child a special one. Because, it is through serving your child that you can feel the comforting presence of Christ as He says, “fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand” (Isaiah 41:10 ESV).

~ Todd

About IEPs

Friends,

Did you ever wonder about those early steps in the educational world of IEPs –How to even begin the process of getting help at school?

If so, read Melissa Lackman’s post today on the legal page.

I am confident it will help.

Blessings,

Shannon

 

 

Making a List

We’ve walked into many beginning-of-the-school-year “meet the teacher” meetings and I still feel unprepared every time. How do I adequately describe my son in a few sentences? How do I provide information that will be useful to his teachers in the classroom and provide them with the kinds of information the IEP will not? Will they really understand who my son is based on the things that I tell them?

Although I have much disdain for lists, I do occasionally find them helpful (shhh, don’t tell my husband.) This is one particular instance where a list is recommended. By thinking through the ways that my son has struggled in the classroom I feel more prepared to paint a picture for his teachers that will prepare them to assist him in the classroom.

A list won’t guarantee that his teachers will recognize and address the issues I mention, but the list will help me feel like I have begun the process of working with them to encourage his success in their classroom.

  • Many times he becomes irritated because of noise, disorder, or the behavior of classmates (he likes when everyone follows the rules.)
  • He becomes frustrated easily when he doesn’t understand something, but he is very uncomfortable asking for help.
  • He doesn’t like changes from his normal routine—including when there is a substitute or when an assembly causes the day to run on a modified schedule.
  • He can be very stubborn. It is very difficult for him to recognize and admit when he is wrong.
  • His emotions can change quickly.
  • While it has rarely been an issue at school, he can have an explosive temper.
  • He sometimes complains of stomach and/or headaches. Most of the time when this happens we probe to find out if anxiety may be the root cause.
  • His physical coordination is not very good and he doesn’t enjoy sports.
  • He feels uncomfortable when he is put in a situation where he is expected to “mingle” with other kids his age.
  • He has difficulty picking up on sarcasm and nuances, thus he doesn’t always “get” jokes.
  • He doesn’t take criticism well.
  • He really wants to please his teachers and make good grades.
  • He loves being at his current school.
  • He is an auditory learner (great listener, not such a great note taker.)

Although the hidden disabilities our children face may or may not be the same, many of the features are shared. As you make your list, also include items that indicate your child’s strengths. It is good for both you and your child’s teacher to recognize that while we are dealing with some major obstacles, we are also working with some uniquely gifted children.

~Louise

 

The Red Sea

The Red Sea – Figuratively, I thought I was already there. See C-H-A-N-G-E.  I really thought it (aka troubles, unexpected changes, issues, unwelcome news – read between the lines… not MY plan) had gotten as deep and wide as it could possibly be.

After several weeks of finding out that one, then two, then three therapists were leaving our team, then finding out our sitter (respite) was cutting her hours almost completely – I’d felt very overwhelmed. It couldn’t get worse. Then our son’s school decided they no longer felt capable of servicing him at their rural building (after a lengthy IEP process last Spring brought us to a point of them doing so). With one week left before school started, we were slammed with the decision to either send him to school without any extra support or any accommodations or switch him to another school. This affects him short-term and long-term, and it affects our other children. With only a week to do research, we made the final decision three days before school started and at that point told our boys. We switched both our sons to a different school. Owen took the news very well. Ethan took it hard. He’s older and had made friendships, and he’s a shy guy. It was an incredibly gut-wrenching discussion and I felt so incredibly bad for my son when he told me, with tears in his eyes, this was the worst thing I’ve ever done to him.

We’ve moved past this very bad situation and are embracing their new placement. They are adjusting and so are we. And as I recently said to a friend, adjusting is a step (or two) past shock.

What got me through that was alot of hard leaning on God and some very encouraging words from a friend I’ve never met. A fellow blogger, Joan, sent me these words…

oh my unseen friend, I hear your grief…just wanted you to know that. I have felt all those things. One of those times I felt trapped, like the Israelites – caught between Pharaoh’s army and the Red Sea – two ways to die, no way to live. Then a friend said, “God leads us into dead ends so HE can deliver.”

These words ministered to me so deeply and I will share more in a future post….

Kara

 

IEP FAILURE!

Last year, our sweet G-man started Kindergarten. What a big year for us!  October of last year was also when we got our Tourette diagnosis.

Being the strong, advocating, proactive parents we were, we immediately met with G’s teacher, and the Developmental Specialist of the school. Although G wasn’t having any “trouble” per se in school, she urged us to go ahead and jump on the IEP process, getting a safety net in place for him should trouble arise. I thought this sounded like a fabulous plan, so I started jumping through the hoops of obtaining the necessities for the process. I obtained a letter of diagnosis from G’s diagnosing Neurologist and pranced back to school. PIECE of CAKE!  I had read so many horror stories of the IEP process, about uncooperative school personnel and school districts and endless denials and appeals. This was going well and I was feeling good.

Then the trouble began.

My letter wasn’t adequate, said the Developmental Specialist. It only named his diagnosis, not the “issues” he had.  But wait….. we just discussed that he hadn’t had any real trouble yet … (in Kindergarten, no trouble arose because his teacher allowed him to spend unlimited time sharpening the classroom pencils and sorting them, point down, with exactly 10 pencils in each of the 6 containers …. but that’s a WHOLE different post)….

I digress.

So I trek to a Child Psychologist, with whom I waited for about 4 weeks to get an appointment. G-man performed beautifully in his interview, earning himself a hefty diagnosis of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, which often accompanies Tourette Syndrome. And I earned myself a hefty four page letter spelling out every single complication with school that G-man might EVER have until college. Into the school I marched, triumphant as ever.  THIS was the ticket. It was a little harder than I originally thought, but we were on our way!  The Developmental Specialist glanced over the letter, and VOILA!  It was golden. So the next step is to hand it over to the principal to continue the process.

At this point, it’s Christmas break, so we had a bit of an interruption.

January ….

February ….

I never heard a peep back. SO, at the beginning of March I approached them again. It’s spring, we all have a fresh perspective. And we are still waiting on the principal to look it over.  After three face to face visits in a three week period, I get my call from the principal.  She will address it FIRST thing after spring break.

~~ big deep cleansing breath~~

And finally, the day comes. She calls. She leaves me a message. I return the call, only to hear that there is NO reason in the world to LABEL our G-man. He’s brilliant, he’s having NO trouble, there are NO COMPLAINTS from teachers, WHY would we want to put something in place that will follow him until he graduates high school, when this might NEVER even become an issue?  Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder doesn’t even qualify for IEP coverage (skimming over that minor little  TOURETTE diagnosis).

And at this point, we are in the last week of school, and I can clearly see now it’s a much larger uphill fight than I ever thought. So add me to the list of  those people who the IEP process has failed, at least on the first attempt. Perhaps I could’ve been a stronger, in their face type of advocate from the beginning … but my child has to walk these halls for the next 5 years, as well as his two siblings right behind him.  I have read ALL the legislation pertaining to IEP and Tourettes, and exactly how and why it qualifies.

So now, we have a brand new school year beginning. Where do I go from here?

Deciding my next move,

Cape Wearing Mommy

IEP Implementation in a New School Year

In my last blog about IEPs we talked about the importance of writing a good IEP.  It entailed preparation, advocacy, and persistence all wrapped up in prayer.  Today I want to talk about the importance of the IEP implementation process in a new school year.

Many have had the experience of working hard to write a good IEP and then seeing it fail because of poor implementation.  The question we have to ask is: What steps can we take at the beginning of a school year to help the implementation process?

Here are some of the things we have learned over the years.

  • Principle # 1: Be positive.   Teachers enter the field of teaching typically because they love kids and learning.  Most teachers WANT your child to learn and want to be successful in teaching them. Remembering this is critical when you approach a teacher.
  • Principle # 2: Be Helpful.  Give the teacher a little time to get to know your child.  Make an appointment early in the school year to visit about your child’s IEP and make sure the teacher understands it and doesn’t have questions.  In Elementary school when there was one or two teachers we would wait a couple of weeks.  In the middle and high school levels, we have typically tried to do a meeting during the first week to ten days.  The stakes are higher at the upper levels and the teachers are juggling many more students.  Misunderstandings can be more likely under these circumstances and helping the teacher understand your child’s needs can avoid problems down the road.
    • In the meeting with the teacher, briefly review the “Present Level” that explains your child’s strengths and weaknesses, test scores and functional needs. Then review the accommodations page and how each accommodation is necessary to address your child’s disability.  Remember that the teacher probably has many students with IEPs and understanding the “whys” behind the IEP accommodation will help it stick better in her mind.   Then when she sees it play out in class, her memory will be refreshed and it will make more sense to her and help her remember.
    • We have tried different approaches over the years to this initial meeting.  A couple of years (middle and upper levels) I did separate meetings with each teacher.  They were 10-15 minute meetings – very brief and to the point.  This is labor intensive for the parent but helpful to the teacher. A couple of years I have done group meetings with all teachers at once.  This is a little less helpful to the teacher but much more efficient for the parent.  Do what works for you.
  • Principle # 3: Be prepared.  Take a 1 page summary of your child’s accommodations with three columns:  Accommodation required |  How it applies to my child | Why my child needs it
The teacher may have ten children with the same accommodation but for different reasons.
  • Principle # 4: Be a good communicator.
    • When a teacher is doing a good job, send a kind note of appreciation.
    • When a teacher is not providing an accommodation from the IEP which your child requires, send a note reminding her of the accommodation and the reason it is needed.  Always be polite in your interactions with teachers. Remember principle #1.
    • If you continue to struggle with an accommodation even after sending a note, an in-person meeting might be necessary.
  • Principle # 5: Be patient. It takes time for a teacher to learn all of his/her students and your teacher may really be trying to get it right.
  • Principle # 6: Be persistent. Appeal to a higher authority when you are not able to resolve a concern with a teacher despite your best efforts.  This is normally the Principal of the building. If you are not able to resolve the matter with the Principal then you appeal to the next level (depending on the size of your district this could be a regional person, the director of Special Education and Student Services, or your Superintendent.)
  • Principle # 7: Last but certainly not least, Be prayerful. You have to remember that God loves your child even more than you do and is looking out for his/her interests.  He created this child and has plans for his/her life.  Be prayerful that God will give you wisdom and discernment as you walk out the IEP journey.  Pray for each teacher faithfully.  Pray for your child to learn and grow this year — scholastically, socially, spiritually. Pray for the added grace you need to be the Mom God wants you to be.
~ Shannon

I called myself an advocate. But I was really an assassin.

Guest Blogger, Reprinted with author’s permission.
Posted: 30 Jul 2011 03:00 AM PDT by John Knight

Very shortly after my son was born and diagnosed with the first of his multiple disabilities I learned I would need to be an ‘advocate’ for him.  To summarize, that meant I needed to learn how to deal with very complicated medical, educational, social work and legal systems if I hoped to get him services that might help him. Being an advocate means being ready for conflict, and a commitment to winning.  Think lawyers, without the credentials (usually) but with an unparalleled passion to protect their loved ones.

Once I attended an Individualized Education Plan (IEP) meeting that included eight professionals in various educational areas and me talking about my oldest son.  Seven of them did as they were legally obligated and sent me their assessments and recommendations ahead of the meeting.  One did not, and she also did not come to the meeting on time.  So, in addition to breaking the law, I was irritated.

The meeting was going really well – no issues, and the recommendations were appropriate.  Then the last professional showed up, near the completion of the meeting, and dropped the bomb of a whole new diagnosis.

Two of the other professionals in the room told me later that the room became physically colder as they watched me consider her words.

Then the ‘go’ switch went on in my head.  She didn’t stand a chance as I went over school processes and legal requirements and her methodology of assessment and lack of insight into current research. The principal made a half-hearted attempt to protect her employee but quit when I turned my attention on the principal – this wasn’t a fight she knew she could win.  And then each of the other six professionals in the room was grilled on their assessment of their colleague’s diagnosis of my son.

At heart that wasn’t advocacy.  I wasn’t really looking for answers and I knew how to keep the pressure on that one person under the guise of wanting to find the best educational outcome for my son. In other words, I was a trained and experienced character assassin using the tools of my trade.

Some of you are thinking, ‘I’ve experienced that sort of bad behavior from professionals; she deserved it.”  But I’m not proud of that moment as I think about it today:
  • She was doing her job in providing her assessment; I made it personal and
    looked for ways to personally humiliate her.
  • I didn’t want to believe her evidence, but three years later she proved to
    be correct.
  • Her assessment methodologies were flawed, and her delivery wasn’t
    appropriate, but my response didn’t give her an opportunity to learn anything
    useful.  I was just another angry, confused father rather than someone who could
    share some valuable insights.
  • I did not make Jesus look like greatest treasure.
I am not saying as parents we should just roll over and let school or medical professionals do anything they want with regards to our children.  The Apostle Paul would use the laws of the day when it was appropriate, like after he had been publicly beaten and jailed and then told they could leave: But Paul said to them, “They have beaten us publicly, uncondemned, men who are Roman citizens, and have thrown us into prison; and do they now throw us out secretly? No! Let them come themselves and take us out.”  Acts 16:37

We can use the protections granted us.  But even more than that, I want educators and government officials and medical professionals to run into a mountain of unmovable conviction about the God-granted worth and dignity and value of our loved ones with disabilities. It is that very conviction that allows us to engage with grace and reasonableness.  God is our ultimate advocate, but unlike me he always brings perfect measures of grace and wrath, with perfect regard for our family members as well as those who are (or supposed to be) serving them, with perfect knowledge about what will ultimately bring him the greatest glory. That allows us to say things like, “I disagree” and keep it on the subject at hand rather than making it personal by focusing on the skill, experience, competency or feelings of another.  If that person lacks skill or competency to get what we need, we keep pressing on, without rancor or anger, seeking the best outcome.

That is much easier said than done, in my experience.  I can’t prove it, but I think some people have baited me, trying to goad an emotional, angry response out of me so that they could put the ‘unreasonable, irrational’ father tag on me.

Today I try to remember that Jesus’ blood can cover the sins of that person across the table from me, or on the other end of the telephone, or who just sent the email or letter – they could be brothers or sisters in Christ!  If not today, then maybe someday in the future, and maybe God will use our persistent yet hopeful engagement on behalf of our children to reveal himself in all his glory.

Persevering is generally most of the battle anyway, even with insurance companies!  (Though I haven’t won all of those battles, either – and God is still good.) People in positions of authority have lied to me about what can and cannot be provided to my son.  Some of them have also treated their subordinates very badly, not equipping them (and lying about it) to do the job they are being paid to do for my son. Those people should be afraid as we advocate for our children (just like in Acts 16:35-40).

Even more so, they should fear the God who made and has deep regard for our children with disabilities: You shall not curse the deaf or put a stumbling block before the blind, but you shall fear your God: I am the Lord. Leviticus 19:14

Getting the right services and treatments – ones that could make a real difference – isn’t a hypothetical issue in our family, or yours. But God is greater, and trusting him lets us behave in ways that make him look glorious, encourages us to persevere when all seems hopeless, helps us serve our families better, and doesn’t let the roots of pride or bitterness – which could destroy us – take hold in the midst of our complicated lives.

Yes, even when it appears we are losing and our own emotions are crying out for vengeance.  The Lord of the universe will judge rightly on our behalf:  Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.  Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. Romans 12:17-21

For we know him who said, “Vengeance is mine; I will repay.” And again, “The Lord will judge his people.” It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. Hebrews 10:30-31

She’s talking on her spoon…

Today my almost-three-year-old daughter and I took a trip to Walmart. She sat in her carseat behind me, listening to me as I talked to someone on my cell phone. As I finished my call I heard her talking, “Hi, this is Maella. Yep, ah ha. Ok, bye Daddy.” I looked at her and she was talking on (a pretend cell phone)… a small plastic spoon.

As I watch and observe her, I see the differences between neuro-typical toddlers and toddlers with autism. We were often asked over the years about pretend play. At some evaluations (after we started doing play therapy), we would respond that Owen was strong with pretend play. Once diagnosed we learned about this deficit and we started animatedly playing kitchen with him, pretend picnic, etc. But what Maella was doing in the backseat is still very different from “pretend play.” What we considered pretend play was really more imitation or re-invention. Maella was taking an object completely unrelated to what she was imagining and subbing it in. Easy for her. Hard for a child who interprets life literally. Owen is a concrete thinker. He recently put together an elaborate restaurant in our basement. But we could not eat pretend food. We had to pay actual money and we bought actual food from him – - because why else would you come to a restaurant?

I guess you could say this post is about the importance of understanding your child’s delays or autism symptoms and then, especially when being evaluated, correctly understanding exactly what is being asked and not thinking too quickly about your response.

Here is another example of this. Over the years, in all the evals and re-evals Owen has done, we’ve been asked about social delays. For kids with autism, social cognition is one of the biggest areas they struggle. As far back as I can remember our response has always been… Owen’s strength is his social self. This definitely impacted eval results. It’s unfortunate that no one ever stopped us and asked us to spell it out very specifically. We would say… Owen has the best manners. He’s kind. He likes to include a friend in his play. He likes to talk to people. But we never spelled out how Owen likes to talk about what Owen wants to talk about. Or that he’s more comfortable talking with adults than children. Or how Owen doesn’t really understand other people’s perspectives, he tries but that does not come naturally. Owen often needs us to teach him the right words (called scripting) to use in both confusing and seemingly simple situations. This is a small sampling of what Owen deals with socially, but I don’t need to get extensive here.

My goal in this post is to encourage parents when in evaluations and re-evaluations (that often take place after therapy has begun and we’ve started to teach our children how to move beyond their delays, struggles, quirks) to really think about your child’s behaviors, question the evaluator and look for direction so you can think about multiple situations and environments, etc. One thing that really hit us this year… autism doesn’t go away. We always knew that. But it really hit us in light of some services being taken away last year. Just because Owen was doing great in a non-stressful 2.5 hour preschool program was no indication of how Owen’s autism would affect him once in school full-time. I am sure there are MANY parents out there who go back for 3-year re-evaluations right before their child enters Kindergarten. Schools and parents need to strongly consider that an eval of that nature would be much more appropriate once the child has begun Kindergarten (a completely different kind of environment than preschool). Proceed with caution….

ABCs & IEPs

Acronyms! They can leave a person feeling very ignorant at times—especially when you have to ask what the mysterious letters mean (and everyone else in the world seems to already know). Such is the case in the world of hidden disabilities. It begins with things like ADD, OCD, or ADHD and maybe what you need is an IEP.

In the US public education system an IEP (Individualized Education Program) is a legal document that follows your child from one public school to another. It states what services and accommodations the school has to provide for the student. It is reviewed and updated every year.

When we began the process of diagnosing our son, his struggles with school were the largest single issue we faced. While he was at school some of his teachers presumed he was being lazy or that he was just being a ‘typical middle schooler’ and his grades reflected it. At home he was spending virtually every waking hour after school sitting with his text books in front of him—stressing over how much work he had to do and getting very little of it done. I would sit with him, many times having to write out his work for him. He was stressed and defeated and I was exhausted. As we communicated with the teachers about Stephen’s needs, struggles and frustrations it was decided that he may need intervention.

We met with Stephen’s teachers, school administrators, the guidance counselor and the school psychologist and the plan began to take shape. Suddenly we went from being involved, concerned parents to being a vital part of his educational program. We wanted to be both encouraging to his teachers and supportive of our son. It was important to us that the teachers saw us as teammates and not adversaries. As we met together we explained to them that we were not at all interested in our son being pity passed. It seemed that we could all be on the same page.

Stephen’s IEP was created in the spring of 5th grade. Since then he has changed grades and changed schools. Through these transitions there is a document that is a part of his school record which explains what accommodations should be available for him. It doesn’t mean that we don’t have to communicate with his teachers. It also doesn’t mean that we can presume teachers are automatically implementing the IEP, but it gives us ground to stand on when we have questions or concerns.

If your child is struggling with school work and you have not yet explored the benefits that an IEP could provide to your child, I would encourage you to contact your child’s school and discuss your options.