Here's my Facebook status from today: "just experienced a whole new animal: an IEP meeting that was not only informational and helpful (as if that weren't shocking enough), but one in which every single person agreed upon a course of action that is going to require some effort and will actually benefit my student! Yay!!"
And here's the history behind that comment:
Having come to us at age three-and-a-half - a happy little boy - not toilet trained, and only speaking in two or three word sentences, we were told that the permanency goal was reunification, and that during the placement we should have Fred evaluated by the Intermediate Unit to receive any services for which he might qualify.
Evaluations completed, toilet training accomplished, boundaries and discipline introduced and enforced - this little boy was learning and growing. It was determined that he did not demonstrate enough delay in any developmental areas to qualify for services, so we were encouraged to enroll him in Head Start, which we did.
After a few weeks the phone calls began: aggression toward peers and teachers, defiant behavior, unexplainable and uncontrollable anger outbursts. So more evaluations followed, he was 'dismissed' from the Head Start program and soon after was reunified with his birth mother.
Fred returned to our home at the beginning of his first grade year. Reports from the school where he had attended kindergarten while he was living with his birth mother revealed moderate behavior problems and a lag in academics. Our school district used those reports and their own assessments to determine that Fred qualified for full-time learning support services. He continued in this placement for the next two years - the district allowed him to spend two years in first grade to 'catch up.' At that point we were told and believed that the learning delay was a result of a lack of stimulation and exposure during his first three years, and that the learning gap would close in time.
In second grade he was placed into a regular education classroom with supports for some academic subjects; this situation was somewhat successful and was repeated for third grade. However, as that year unfolded, there were more and more visits to the Principal's office and more evaluations. During one of the many meetings in which we requested Fred's return to a full-time learning support classroom, the guidance counselor - who clearly thought that all of Fred's behaviors were a result of my lack of parenting skills - commented that 'once we moved him back into full-time learning support, it would be nearly impossible to move him back out.' Who said anything about ever wanting to move him back out? That was when I realized that we were facing a battle.
From that time on we knew that whenever the district made a suggestion regarding our son's education, we were expected to quietly settle on and agree to it.
He was moved back into full-time learning support for fourth grade - a much happier year for all involved. We also requested that the district re-evaluate to rule out (or in) a diagnosis of what was then Mental Retardation (MR), and what is now Intellectual Disability (ID). They did the evaluation and ruled it out, so we paid for a more comprehensive private evaluation which resulted in a diagnosis of MR which would allow for Fred to receive more (and much needed) services. When presented with the results that we had gathered, the district refused to accept the MR diagnosis.
Fifth and sixth grades were fine for Fred, and a battleground for us. At every IEP meeting we were shown results of assessments that proved that he was making little to no academic progress and were also told that 'there would be more options in the Middle School.' Since Fred was enjoying school and the behavior problems had subsided somewhat, we waited with hope that seventh grade in the Middle School would bring opportunities for progress.
In reality the Middle School experience brought a nightmare. During the course of the year we were reported to Montgomery County Children and Youth Services twice and investigated for allegations of child abuse as reported by the school. Instead of checking Fred's stories with us for accuracy (even after we explained to them Fred's penchant for lying to get back at us) we were instead notified of his lies by a case worker showing up unannounced at our door.
In addition, the school reported progress of several grade levels, but at IEP meetings there was no documentation to support those assertions. In fact, one testing tool showed a decrease in his reading level; the teacher excused those results by saying that there was a discrepancy between the testing tools. The outcome of that particular meeting proved to stoke our frustration; after all, if the district doesn't have or use proper testing tools, how are they going to be able to teach my child in a way to meet his needs. And speaking of needs, it was at this point that the school repeated an IQ test and agreed that Fred met the requirements to be diagnosed with ID.
At the IEP meeting at the beginning of eighth grade, the district admitted that Fred had made little to no academic progress the previous year, but reassured us that at the High School he would be better serviced. Hmmm... having heard this same song and dance in the elementary school, we decided to seek legal advice. After about six months of documentation, meetings, and lots of money, the district agreed to place Fred in an alternative private school. That placement began in April 2011 and we are now finishing the first full year at this school.
Back to my comment today:
This morning was the IEP meeting to plan for the coming school year. The meeting included me and six professionals: teachers, supervisor, counselor, therapist. In preparation I had thoroughly read through the re-evaluation report and the IEP draft, discussed them with Stan, and made a list of questions. Past experience has been the best teacher - go in with an agenda, don't get defensive, stay calm (and smile if possible), listen to and take notes on everything they say.
At fifteen minutes into the meeting I began to feel uncomfortable - everyone was agreeing, giving input, offering and receiving suggestions, answering questions directly - basically working as a team, not the usual IEP experience. When it was my turn to ask my list of questions, there was no need because each one had been answered throughout the discussion. When the supervisor suggested that the school would like to move Fred's placement to a more suitable classroom, and asked if that would be okay with me, I just about cried. Even though this move is not convenient, wasn't in the initial plan, and may require additional supports, the recommendation came from the school in the best interest of my child.
Several people commented on the status up-date with this phrase: miracles still do happen. A miracle, indeed.
No comments:
Post a Comment