Saturday, October 31, 2009

Less Traveled Roads

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference
--Robert Frost


There is this famous essay by Emily Perl Kingsley called Welcome to Holland. In this essay, she compares the difference between parenting a 'typical' child and a 'special needs' child to planning a trip to Italy, but ending up in Holland. While it is an interesting analogy, it sounds too easy. No offense, but Holland and Italy both sound pretty swell to me.

For me, I tend to think of it a little differently. I look at parenting like taking a walk in the woods. Now, most parents hike the well worn trail. It is wide and well traveled, with many other parents hiking right along side you. You see similar overlooks and panoramas, beautiful vistas and mountain creeks. There are definitely hills to climb, bugs to avoid, and the occasional rain storm. And sometimes you are the unfortunate one to step in the doggie-doo or trip on a big rock. But you have the benefit of others who travel with you on this same path, and mostly share the same experience.

For the parent of a special needs child, parenting is different. There is only a very thin trail, or maybe no path at all. Grass and tall weeds cover the forest floor, and there are unexpected mud pits that suck your shoes in. There is wildlife galore; some of it beautiful and some of it scary and dangerous. Gnatty, swarmy bugs bite. You aren't very sure where you are going or what direction to take, and the few guidebooks or fellow travelers you meet all have a different opinion or direction in mind. Mostly you hike alone, but occasionally meet others who hike these woods too. They know your hike because they are doing it as well. They can share tips and tricks to making it though the woods. But always you must hike on your own, because no one's journey is the same. Eventually you learn to navigate this woods. Slowly but surely you learn to avoid the mud pits, to defend against the scary critters, and to cut though the tall grasses in order to make the journey go more smoothly. And you hope that you are going in the right direction and that you aren't going to run into a bear or a mountain lion. You hope for the beautiful vistas, but you are never quite sure where you might end up.

Last week I attended a class on the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA). According to Wikipedia, IDEA is a United States federal law that governs how states and public agencies provide early intervention, special education, and related services to children with disabilities. Essentially, IDEA is the rules of the game that States have live by when providing special education services. This course was put on by a parent advocacy group (PACER), and was organized in such a way as to explain to parents the essential "what you need to know" rules. It covered topics such as the evaluation process, getting services, evaluating those services, and how to troubleshoot the issues and conflicts that could come up.

I wanted to take the class because as we approach the J-man aging out of the Birth to Three programs and entering the next phase, we will be starting to revise both the types of services he gets and creating an Individualized Education Plan (IEP) for him. I figured it might be pretty important for me to not only know the rules of the game, but also how to navigate the system. Avoid the mud pits, tall grass, and toothy critters as much as possible.

What struck me was how lost and frustrated so many of the other parents were. One mom, upon learning that she should have been receiving quarterly reports from her son's teachers and that he was grossly overdue for a re-evaluation (by 1 year, no less), burst into tears. Angry pissed-off tears! Another mom's voice cracked and her eyes welled up with tears when she explained that her son would never progress beyond a 4 year old level, and she wondered how she could ever make a meaningful IEPs for him. And yet another mom explained her frustration in finding an appropriate school district for her child in a recent move (been there, done THAT).

We have been so fortunate. Jonathan has a brilliant team and we have had very few struggles thus far. While I worry on a daily basis about where we are going and what we are doing right or wrong, Jonathan could care less. He is happy. And I think... no, I know... that the reason we have had it nice so far is that I am always willing to ask the questions. To be his advocate. And I have enough knowledge and skill that I can do it right. It doesn't mean I am not filled with doubt everyday, but I know we can make it.

My heart breaks for other parents on this journey who are struggling. There is no real guidebook for these woods, and feeling lost, scared, and confused can become a regular event. When people try to live from a place of stress and fear, things always go terribly wrong. And yet, this is where a lot of these families are ....trying to negotiate the forest without a map, a clear trail, and a solid endpoint.

4 comments:

Leightongirl said...

Thank you for this. I used to dread IEP season, but like everything else about being a parent, we learn a little more each time, and get a little better. I'm glad J. has such a great team. But honestly, he also has the best mother!

Pia said...

I love that term: IEP season! Isn't that the truth!! It lasts all fall! HA!

Anonymous said...

The woods metaphor is beautifully written. But the good news is, when we see a beautiful vista there is NO WAY we are passing it by without appreciating it, whereas those on the well worn "typical" path may only stop for a second (or not at all).

Teresa (Embracing the Spectrum) said...

Maybe I'm just more emotional lately, but this totally got to me. This is wonderfully written and so, so true. I'm a special ed teacher AND special needs parent. Even knowin what I know, I've had to fight for my child at meetings.

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