When God Whispers

On Friday, we fired our school district.

And it feels like I have shed the weight of the world.

Like I can breathe again, deep and easy.

Like I am free.

Until we cut them loose, I didn't realize how heavy and trapped I felt.  Like I was slowly drowning.  My hubby said our relationship with the ECSE department was like a relationship with an abusive spouse that you just keep going back to, hoping they will change.  That things will get better.  Or that you have somehow convinced yourself that you can't live without them.  But you can...

He was right.

(Relish that confession, babe, it doesn't happen often ;)

As some of you are already aware, we have had some issues with the school district services.  While I mentioned it on one or two occasions, lately I remained relatively vague about the issues. In part this was because we were in the thick of it and I wasn't sure of the outcome. However, through the magic of server-IP-identification, I also became aware some time ago that someone(s) at the school district have been regularly checking out my blog.  I will confess...  I am kind of amused.  Heck, the Internet is an open forum and I do put it out there.  And actually I have no problem with them reading my blog:  I am proud of my boy and all he is doing! But I was... hesitant... to go into specifics about my anger, frustration and angst regarding our conflict.  Not that I don't stand behind my blog...  what I say here I proudly own... but you know, they don't need to know everything.

Of course, now that they are fired...

I will admit I've had some fantasies about writing this post.  My hubby has been dying for me to tear the district apart, to name names and put it all out there.  But now that it is here...  what do I say?  That they acted poorly, were manipulative and lied?  Of course.  That they have made inappropriate and possibly destructive decisions?  Yep.  That they have failed to listen to us or treat us as equal partners?  Yep  That they have failed in their legal, ethical, and moral obligations to the J-man?  It goes without saying. 

We wouldn't have fired them for anything less.

But aside from telling the basic story in my letter, I have no taste for giving them much more of my time.  Instead, I would rather focus on why it took me so damn long to see what has been obvious all along...

We don't need them.

In case you are reading this, IEP "team", allow me to repeat:

We don't need YOU.

We will do this all on our own.  In many ways, we have been. You had a chance to be a part of something magical, something beautiful, something you could have been proud of.  Something meaningful. If you would have just opened your eyes and really saw him...

You lose.

The system is stacked against families.  The power structure leans heavily in the favor of the school district.  Don't get me wrong. The law is built for us.  But failing to follow the law carries few penalties and doing what is right for the child and the family is not necessarily rewarded.  The ethics seem nebulous at best, and it appears to be fairly easy to convince themselves that they have the knowledge and authority to be the ones making the decisions.  It is okay to keep parents in the dark about their options, because if parents know too much then they might challenge you.  As a parent, this attitude can feel very paternalistic:  Do what we say because we know best.  It is our system, our programs, and if you don't fit or agree.... well, too bad, so sad.  So much for the Individual part of IEP.

So we started with Hope.  Hope we get 'the good ones'.  Hope they will really see our child and work with us.  We smile and try and cross our fingers and pray that they share our vision.  And even as the evidence mounts that is not the case... we still Hoped.  Maybe they will see him as we see him.  Maybe they will.... 

And as Hope starts to fade... it is replaced by Anger.  Anger that they are failing in their duty.  Anger that they won't listen or maybe just don't care.  Anger.  We pay taxes.. have since we were 16 and probably will until we die. We have one child... only one.. and I think we have paid our dues.  J-man is a citizen of the United States of America and our society has decided that ALL children deserve a quality education. They are not allowed to fail. This is J-man's right.  They should feel ashamed, right to the core. 

And under all that Hope and Anger is Fear.  Fear about making the wrong decision.  Fear about defying 'authority'.  Fear about doing it all by ourselves... what an isolating, lonely feeling... How will we do what needs to happen for J-man?  Why can't they just love him as we do?  There is so much to love...

I was stuck by Hope, Anger, and Fear.

And amongst the chaos of this week... the lost Hope, the Anger, the Fear...  I read this post by my friend Ange at Life in the Pumpkin Shell.  The last line struck a chord in me so strong and clear it was like God himself whispering in my ear:

One gift allowed me by the spirits who guide me through...'Walk away when it feels wrong.'

And then, in a wonderful repost-response given to me by Ange about their experiences with their son  (who reminds us of J-man so clearly it is scary), I found solace and fellowship.  And Courage...

So while Hope, Anger, and Fear have failed me,
the Courage to walk away will save us all.

And it feels like we have shed the weight of the world.

Like we can breathe again, deep and easy.

It feels like we are free.

.