Seems I have just won the lottery and will be privileged to be allowed to come into my son's classroom to volunteer for a party in April. Until then, his class will remain a mystery to me. But, at least I can share my glorious invitation to enter this sanctified room more then five months from today. What my children do each day at school remains a mystery to me. I am at the mercy of no information. My children say nothing. The teachers say nothing. And, I am happy to hear nothing. Because when you hear something, it is never something good.
Yes, for me, no news is good news.
Sometimes I dream about going into a school meeting. The teacher would bekon me from the other side of the room to sit down. I would watch her face light up when she saw me. A smile would envelop her whole face. Uplifting music would swell in the background. I would take my seat. The teacher would regale me with stories of my perfect child. Ahhh, so quiet, so smart, so industrious, so polite, an example for all children everywhere. All the teachers would whisper when I walked by. She must be the most amazing mother to have such well behaved and smart children. She must be doing something right. Yes, just a dream, but what a wonderful dream.
But, my children are not the chosen ones. They are just children, good children, but not the quiet and well behaved children. Both very active, one that is diagnosed hyperactive. I know the teachers are judging me when judging my children. The well behaved children must come from good homes with good parents and appropriate discipline. The not so well behaved children must come from difficult homes with bad parents and inappropriate discipline. If there is a special need, the parents must also have special needs. That belief system is what makes it possible for teachers and administrators to call a parent to pick up a child when they are not behaving as expected, with the burden placed heavily on the parent of a child with special needs. Just take that child away! Give them back to their underserving, bad parents. That child does not belong in my school! And so, the children with behavior issues get pushed out of the school, into a special school, and often never finish school.
I still have on my answering machine a message from the principal of my daughter's school she attended last year that says I need to come pick up my child or she will be suspended. Her crime was crying and refusing to leave the classroom. The reason: she could not do all six questions correctly. She could do five. The principal told me she had no choice but to call me. Her teachers needed to go to lunch, there was no one willing to stay with my daughter. I received many calls from the school last year to pick my daughter up. No wonder those of us that have children with special needs grow to fear a call from the school. I have developed a Pavlovian fear response every time I hear the phone ring. First I look at the phone, like a panicked rat about to be shocked. When I see it is from the school, I begin to sweat. If I see it is not from the school, I feel the calmness that is akin to a warm bubble bath.
More kids are now diagnosed with special needs that include behavior issues. These children are entitled to a free and appropriate education (FAPE). Yet, the schools have less money to attend to those behavior issues. And too many school professionals and parents of typical kids believe, why waste money on those "bad" kids, they are just going to be criminals or be a burden to the system anyway. And, if only the parents were better at parenting there would not be any of this trouble. So, no wonder so many of us have grown to hate the school system. We didn't expect to dislike the school system, but the public school system has, like Pavlov, shocked me one too many times.
Last year, I told the school psychologist that I was blocking calls from the school. I was only joking. I only wished I could block calls from my child's school. But, one day when I forgot my phone at home, I received a reprinmanding email that I should not block calls from the school, and I needed to come get my daughter. I no longer trusted the school, the school did not trust me. And so, I leave you with an image of the perfect child, Shirley Temple. She was cute, talented, kind, polite, smart, witty, and she was a fantasy.
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