Update on J
Way back at the first parent-teacher conference of the school year, J's teacher expressed some concerns about some of his behavior during class. It was quite an emotional day for me, and over the next few weeks I got a lot of advice from different sources. In the end, Terence and I made the decision to let J go through the school's evaluation process for any potential learning disabilities or other challenges that might be leading to his trouble in the classroom. We were warned that the process would be slow, but we were OK with that (and quite frankly, it suited me to have things moving at such a snail pace that I didn't have to deal with it yet). I found the whole subject emotionally wringing. Objectively, I knew that nothing they found or didn't find changed anything about J, his potential, and his identity as a beloved child of God. But the mom feared the unknown-- and those fears loom large at times, even if it's about something in the distant future ("Does this mean J will never live a normal adult life?").
Well, here we are in May, nine months later, and the evaluation has finally been finished. Today I had a meeting with most of the group that had been involved in this long process. I got my first look at their results and the proposed IEP yesterday. (For those who don't know-- like me, until just recently-- IEP stands for "Individualized Education Plan" and it is the yearly strategy set down on paper for kids in the special ed program.)
The results both staggered me and struck a familiar chord. They struck a familiar chord because in all the detailed observations they made, everything painted J to a "T." But they staggered me because the school psychologist officially labeled him as autistic. (During the meeting today, she said that he fell "solidly" within the autistic range. Not even borderline.)
Needless to say I was an emotional wreck. More fear of the unknown. And the idea of meeting with a team of strangers to review all of this information just had me completely on edge. Just talking about it kept making me dissolve into puddles of tears. I even had a couple of lovely friends who had offered to come with me to the meeting so I wouldn't have to face it alone. But in the end I thought it would be best to pull myself together and handle it on my own. Well, not completely on my own. I spent some time on my knees talking to God before I left for the school. I knew I needed His help to make the best decisions for my son.
The meeting was not as scary as I thought it would be. I didn't really know what to expect, except that I've heard a few horror stories about IEP meetings that are more like battlegrounds. But the ladies who went over everything were extremely nice, complimentary about J, and seemed genuinely concerned about helping him reach his potential. I met with the school psychologist, the resource teacher who will be working with him, the speech therapist, and J's current teacher. (The occupational therapist couldn't make it today, but her results were included in the report.) They took turns going over all the different tests they had given J and answering my questions. They were pretty thorough. I was pleasantly surprised to find that they had given him short parts of the tests over a period of weeks so that it wouldn't be too challenging for his attention span and to give him time to get comfortable with the adults he would be working with so plain shyness wouldn't affect his scores too much.
In the end, I was satisfied that they have made the best call possible for J's label. (That sounds awful, like he's a product on a grocery shelf or something. I don't know how to put it better though.) It's not a medical diagnosis-- rather it's assigning him to the special ed category where he can get the extra help he needs in school. The school psychologist emphasized that J is a "highly functional" autistic, which she says means that he shouldn't have trouble handling adult life and will probably go on to achieve some great stuff because of his strengths. But they can see trouble looming ahead for him quickly in school if we don't address some of his weak areas. So he will be getting special instruction in writing, social skills classes, and speech therapy to help him with appropriate communication. Once a month he will also have occupational therapy to help him get up to speed with his fine motor skills.
I left the school with feelings completely opposite to those coming in. I learned that J's teacher is unusually capable when it comes to working with kids who need help in these areas and that we were very lucky to have her this year-- when another teacher probably would have just labeled J as a problem child instead of seeing that there might be an underlying issue that could be addressed. (I had already loved her as a teacher but this just made me appreciate her even more.) Anyway, for the first time in weeks I feel at peace. This is a path that I feel confident is going to help J meet his potential.
Well, here we are in May, nine months later, and the evaluation has finally been finished. Today I had a meeting with most of the group that had been involved in this long process. I got my first look at their results and the proposed IEP yesterday. (For those who don't know-- like me, until just recently-- IEP stands for "Individualized Education Plan" and it is the yearly strategy set down on paper for kids in the special ed program.)
The results both staggered me and struck a familiar chord. They struck a familiar chord because in all the detailed observations they made, everything painted J to a "T." But they staggered me because the school psychologist officially labeled him as autistic. (During the meeting today, she said that he fell "solidly" within the autistic range. Not even borderline.)
Needless to say I was an emotional wreck. More fear of the unknown. And the idea of meeting with a team of strangers to review all of this information just had me completely on edge. Just talking about it kept making me dissolve into puddles of tears. I even had a couple of lovely friends who had offered to come with me to the meeting so I wouldn't have to face it alone. But in the end I thought it would be best to pull myself together and handle it on my own. Well, not completely on my own. I spent some time on my knees talking to God before I left for the school. I knew I needed His help to make the best decisions for my son.
The meeting was not as scary as I thought it would be. I didn't really know what to expect, except that I've heard a few horror stories about IEP meetings that are more like battlegrounds. But the ladies who went over everything were extremely nice, complimentary about J, and seemed genuinely concerned about helping him reach his potential. I met with the school psychologist, the resource teacher who will be working with him, the speech therapist, and J's current teacher. (The occupational therapist couldn't make it today, but her results were included in the report.) They took turns going over all the different tests they had given J and answering my questions. They were pretty thorough. I was pleasantly surprised to find that they had given him short parts of the tests over a period of weeks so that it wouldn't be too challenging for his attention span and to give him time to get comfortable with the adults he would be working with so plain shyness wouldn't affect his scores too much.
In the end, I was satisfied that they have made the best call possible for J's label. (That sounds awful, like he's a product on a grocery shelf or something. I don't know how to put it better though.) It's not a medical diagnosis-- rather it's assigning him to the special ed category where he can get the extra help he needs in school. The school psychologist emphasized that J is a "highly functional" autistic, which she says means that he shouldn't have trouble handling adult life and will probably go on to achieve some great stuff because of his strengths. But they can see trouble looming ahead for him quickly in school if we don't address some of his weak areas. So he will be getting special instruction in writing, social skills classes, and speech therapy to help him with appropriate communication. Once a month he will also have occupational therapy to help him get up to speed with his fine motor skills.
I left the school with feelings completely opposite to those coming in. I learned that J's teacher is unusually capable when it comes to working with kids who need help in these areas and that we were very lucky to have her this year-- when another teacher probably would have just labeled J as a problem child instead of seeing that there might be an underlying issue that could be addressed. (I had already loved her as a teacher but this just made me appreciate her even more.) Anyway, for the first time in weeks I feel at peace. This is a path that I feel confident is going to help J meet his potential.
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