You might say I’m a card carrying member of the special needs parents community. We’ve been at this a long time- so it’s a fair statement. He turns 9 this fall, which means that over 75% of his life we’ve been on this journey. We’ve made a lot of hard decisions- therapy providers, schooling, medical procedure decisions. Ken would describe me as the least decisive person ever- so when we’ve come up against the hard decisions, it’s a process for me to figure out what’s best. Humble brag- I’ve gotten pretty damn good at following my heart and have always felt like the conclusions we’ve come to were the best decisions for him. Which is why the current situation we find ourselves in has left me damn near paralyzed with indecision, fear, and uncertainty.
When we chose to enroll him in PSD, I always felt like we could try it for a year or two and go from there. I knew in the back of my head that we had other options- and just kept my fingers crossed we never had to use them. Kinder and 1st grade were roller coasters, but the good mostly outweighed the bad so we soldiered on. But second grade- oh man. The heavens opened and shone down on us and all the pieces fell into place. The words “thriving” were used to describe him at school, and I felt like THIS was what we’d been waiting for. The friends in his class, the paras, the options teacher, his 2nd grade teacher- it’s what I have written in the perfect story of his second grade year. We fell into this awesome rhythm, Kristen had hysterical stories for me at pickup daily- and he was truly thriving. Enter COVID. We were fine- truly. Despite mourning what we lost in his in person connection with staff and friends at school, having the opportunity to work with him at home was a total throwback for us. That’s where we started- and while the door was no longer revolving with therapists, it was a chance for us to address behaviors and concerns that we saw at home. And…it was fun. I’m certain he didn’t actually learn a new academic skill, but we made it work, not even considering the possibility that we wouldn’t be able to return to in person schooling. But now…here we are.
And I get it- I totally understand that we cannot begin in person learning. I’m not advocating for that, although I’d love for it to happen for both my kids- for ALL of our friends, also. However- here we are, less than three weeks before school starts without any real guidance. Seton is not our only child, but he does require the most assistance when it comes to remote learning- and as such, I’m faced with extreme uncertainty about knowing what the best course of action is for him. This spring required me to keep a detailed daily schedule so we didn’t miss a zoom call, and an extensive coordination of making sure we tackled each task that his teacher had assigned them for the day. It was exhausting. I love our Options teacher dearly- I love the paraprofessionals who have become emotionally invested in my kid and his success. I love sending him to school each day knowing that he’s in the best hands possible. And I recognize that PSD has said repeatedly the most vulnerable population will be brought back first…but what does that mean? At this point- your guess is as good as mine. Update: I’ve since I started writing this learned that this means he will be brought back in a small group of students, twice a week for 3 hours a day- which is great, but ultimately leaves me trying to figure out how to best teach my child (because I will be the one teaching) with a plethora of learning challenges for the other 15-20 hours the state requires of “learning time.” I’m not a teacher. I may have wanted to be one when I was 7 and my class consisted of Cabbage Patch dolls but it’s never been on my bucket list since. Yes, we’ve spent a lot of time making sure he’s had the best therapy and resources- but what we’ve done is not teaching. It takes a team to raise kids, it takes a team to educate kids- and i’m honestly fearful for what this year will look like for those of us whose kids don’t have the ability to engage and grasp concepts taught online for unfamiliar subjects, taught by unfamiliar teachers, in an online classroom of unknown peers. I’m hopeful that Gig harbor and its surrounding areas can manage to turn the dial so that ALL of our kids can return to in person school this year. But- until we do, let’s move forward with grace and understanding- for the kids, for the parents, for the staff.
But as a special needs parent, I find myself asking- is this going to be enough? I’ve never been there on this journey. When your kid is diagnosed early like ours was, it literally feels like a swarm of people come out of the woodwork to help support you. And eventually, those ones are replaced by more- and sometimes you end up finding your own support. To be honest the weight and the enormity of that thought is pretty f-ing paralyzing. Because who knows how this is all going to play out- who knows what level consistency is going to be able to exist. Who knows how much he’s actually going to retain from this year, how the Wifi in our house is going to hold up to 2 remote students and a more than full time work than home husband.
But this is what I do know:
I will work tirelessly to figure out how to make this work for him,
and for our family.
I will support the F outta our teachers.
I will share my thoughts, feelings and concerns instead of just complaining.
I will do my best…even though I already feel defeated.
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