School Decisions

I'm still in total denial that Nate will be in Kindergarten next year. This whole preschool thing has prepared me somewhat, but I can still pretend that it's just a little playgroup and not real school. But, I'm being forced to think about real school now. And that makes me feel all anxious and like my lungs are constricting a little.

I don't know why, but I have either the inability or unwillingness to think too far into the future. I don't think about how I'm going to die. I don't keep a surplus of food and extra cash in case of a nuclear holocaust. I don't think about what Blake and I are going to do when we're retired and the kids have left the nest. I don't think about who Nate will marry. I really haven't even thought about Georgia going to school. I just don't think about it. One reason might be that I know God's going to take care of us no matter what. I'm not afraid to die. (In the moment, I'm sure I'd be scared, but in general, I know where I'm going, and that it's good.) Bad stuff has happened to us in the past, and it hurt at the time, but it's always turned out fine or even great. I also know that the times when I worry and fret (like about Kindergarten), the reality is usually far less scary than what I worry it will be. So maybe to keep myself from needless worry, I just don't think about it. The furthest I usually plan for is what the kids will wear for the next holiday. :) (And I bought their Christmas outfits today!)

So yeah, ever since Nate's parent-teacher conference last month when his teacher mentioned there was a man observing Nate for a special program for students with physical disabilities, I have been worried and anxious. I talked with a friend who is a teacher, and she told me it's actually a great program at two schools in the city, and one of the schools is really close to our home. I called the school and asked to speak with the teacher over the program, and I liked what I heard. But then I looked up the school on greatschools.com, and it didn't get a very good rating. Then I talked with the counselor with the school Nate goes to now, and she told me that if Nate was in that program, he'd be in a self-contained special ed classroom for homeroom, then he'd go to a regular class the rest of the day. Then I spoke with another resource person in the school system, and he just vaguely "warned" me to stick with the least restrictive environment ... insinuating this wasn't a good program. More anxiety.

In the midst of this, I had called the counselor at his current school and asked to call an ARC meeting. (In Kentucky, that's the name for IEP meetings.) She didn't know that term, even though she's the person you are supposed to call to initiate ARC meetings. She said, "Spark meeting?" I don't mention this to make her sound stupid; I'm just saying this is more evidence that this school is not right for Nate. After explaining what an ARC meeting is, I told her I wanted to add a playground goal for his IEP because he has a hard time navigating the playground, and I feel it's keeping him from engaging with his classmates. And second I wanted information about him transitioning to Kindergarten, what programs are available to us, how does the "lottery" work for kids with IEPs, etc. She said she would gather some information and call me back.

She did call me back the next day and said she spoke with Nate's teacher about the playground situation. They had brought in a tricycle for him to ride--don't even get me started about this tricycle that he has to ride on a concrete pad, totally seperated from all the other kids, and only when they have enough hands for one of the teachers to be solely dedicated to helping him, which is not often--and that the PT is now working with him on using the playground appropriately. I told her I know about all of that, because I asked for the PT to work with him on the playground, but I want it in the IEP. Now, many people might think I am making way too big of a deal about the dang playground but first, it makes me mad that when they installed this brand new playground earlier in the school year, they gave NO thought to accessibility. I wish I had a picture of this playground to show you. Nate can "do" any playground he's ever been to. He can go up steps, across bridges, down slides, through tunnels, whatever. But this playground is all ladders and climbing structures and this crazy slide that the teachers don't allow any of the preschoolers on cause it's dangerous ... just hard stuff. And second, Nate already struggles with connecting with the other kids. It's November, and he can tell me the names of TWO of his classmates. His teacher says he's often in his own world. He has always played with adults--whether me and Blake or grandparents or therapists--and he just doesn't know how to play with kids his age. And I feel this playground issue is another huge barrier to him playing with his classmates. While they are climbing on this play structure, Nate is either running around it by himself or sitting in the mulch and throwing it up in the air. I ask him who he plays with at recess, and he says, "I watch the other kids play." Now tell me I'm upset over nothing.

She also gathered some information about the special program and transitioning to Kindergarten. She said it's way too early to have a transition meeting because the person who is evaluating him for the special program won't do his last evaluation until February, and they won't know about placement until around April. I explained that I don't want a placement right now. I want to know more about the programs and what our options are. That's when she told me that in the special program for which he's being evaluated, Nate would be in a self-contained special ed classroom and would go to a typical class from there. She didn't know what the evaluator was looking for or whether Nate would qualify for this program. I asked about the whole "lottery" system that our school district has--you have to apply to four schools, two close by you and two all the way across town, and you aren't guaranteed to get any of them. She said the lottery for Kindergarten is in January. I asked, Okay, if we don't know he's going to get into this program because his last evaluation is in February, and if we don't know if we even want him in this program, and if his transition meeting where we learn about these programs isn't until April, how do we know what schools to request in the lottery in January? She said, "Oh." She didn't know. She promised to find out more information, and so far I haven't heard back from her.

I took the day off today (It's funny to say that cause I had more work to do at home than I did at work!) so this afternoon I went to the school where they have the special program for which he's being considered. (Sorry to be vague, but this is the internet and all.) The front office notified the teacher--same one I'd talked to on the phone a couple weeks ago--that I was there, and she directed me to the self-contained special ed classroom. I have to say, I was really anxious, and a little emotional about this. First of all, it's Kindergarten. Second, this is a straight up special education classroom. I think special education is awesome for the kids who need it, and I'm not putting that down in any way. But you can understand that this is just not what I had pictured for my son. But as soon as I entered the room, I saw a kid I know! He has SB, and I've been working with his family a lot at work. The teacher asked me a little about Nate, and she quickly said that this classroom would not be for him. That class is for kids who have low IQs as well as physical limitations. Nate would be in the typical Kindergarten classroom.

She took me down to the Kindergarten class, and she said she actually had a little girl in there who had SB. Well, guess what--I know her and her family too! They were actually out on the playground at the time, so I was very interested in seeing this. The playground certainly wasn't as new and impressive as the one they installed at Nate's current school, but I looked around and saw that Nate would be able to access all the equipment! There were steps and slides and swings--we're good. Even better, there were three adults out there--the head teacher, an assistant, and an aid who was there to help this little girl when she needed it. She didn't hover over her or make a big deal out of it, and she was helping all the other kids too, but when this little girl wanted to get back in her walker or climb the steps up to the slide, the aid gave her the help she needed and no more. The little girl was totally included with the other kids and even got down with all of them to do push ups before going in, and they asked her to be the counter.

I had lots of questions about transportation, special equipment, therapies, the cafeteria, the gym, etc, so the teacher took me to speak with the school counselor. She was very happy to talk with me, and she was WONDERFUL. She said this school is actually intended to be for kids who just need a little extra support with the physical stuff in regular classrooms. Only in the last two years have they gotten more kids who have low IQ in addition, so they've initiated the self-contained classroom for that reason. But their goal is always the least restrictive environment. They have enough aids to provide assistance to the kids when they need it. With everything they do, they think about accessibility. All the kids at this school think of wheelchairs and walkers and braces as just part of normal every day life. The typical kids don't bat an eye at kids who need a little help. In fact, they're the ones protecting the kids in wheelchairs and such. For example, recently someone stepped in front of my little girlfriend in Kindergarten when she was in her wheelchair, and one of her classmates set that kid straight! There are special bathrooms equipped with whatever you need. And Kindergarten drop off is right beside the Kindergarten door so the little guys don't have to walk so far in all the hustle and bustle.

I asked her my questions about the lottery and what if Nate doesn't get accepted to this program, etc. As she was talking, I realized that Nate isn't being evaluated to see if he's doing too *well* to qualify for this program. They're evaluating him to make sure he doesn't have more needs than they can handle. Which isn't the case. She told me that just with his diagnosis and IEP, he is guaranteed a spot at their school. She also said that although she's biased, she knows this is the best place for Nate and kids who have physical disabilities. They know what they're doing, and they're good at it.

Here's the thing. The school where Nate is now is very close to our home--less than a mile--and all the kids in our neighborhood go there. It's a very new (about 3 years old) and nice school. But it sounds like Nate is one of their very first students with a physical issue going on. And you can tell. His teacher is great, and I really like her and most of the people I've encountered at the school. But they don't think about accessibility, and call me selfish, but I don't feel like being the trailblazer there. I still don't know what I'm doing, and I often don't even know what to ask for. I am perfectly willing to advocate and fight for Nate whenever necessary (and do so especially with Medicaid on nearly a weekly basis), but why would I choose to do that when there is this awesome school already equipped for him and ready to meet his needs, and it's like 2 miles from our home? It's a no-brainer.

So like I said earlier, all that worry and anxiety over a "special" program, when the reality is that it's going to be just what he needs. I'm really excited about it, actually. It's making Kindergarten seem less scary knowing that he'll be in good hands.