Soooooooo... we started school. And it was what can only be described as an epic. fail. (borrowed this term from a bunch of first graders at a party this weekend).
It started out rough. I got a call the thursday before Monday's school start from B's soon-to-be teacher. She was calling to say that her leave was starting early and that her sub fell through. In a nutshell, there was no teacher assigned. Deep breath. Mini breakdown. And we keep going. We go to the open house that same night. The classroom was empty. No one there to greet us - no one to introduce B. to this new "home".
Monday came and we went to school. B was always so excited to go to this place to drop off his brother. I expected the same reaction. On the drive to school, he was silent. I kept telling him that this was his first day of school, how exciting it was. Meanwhile, I was a nervous wreck and I'm sure he felt it. When we arrived, he refused to get out of the car. Crying, pleading with me with his very limited vocabulary "no walk, no backpack, pick me up". I got him in and we made it to the first day. I think I spent more time at school that day than I did away, but we got through it. There was a sub - hired just 2 days ago and we were "lucky" to have her. B. was happy there. This we could do.
We muddled through. B. had one more rough drop-off and then he was totally on board... excited to be there and his happy, giggly self.
But it just wasn't right. Turns out that hiring a teacher 3 days before school starts does not necessarily lead to the best fit. We tried. Gave it the benefit of the doubt. This was new. It was going to be an adjustment. They were just getting to know B. and it would take time.
So I waited. I tried to believe it was going to be okay. But I kept getting the wrong message... the teacher telling me that he was getting "the cadillac of services" while other students were suffering. Random drop-ins where he was almost always alone, bouncing on a ball. I had no idea what he was doing all day. I volunteered. I popped in. I pushed and I got permission for our therapists to accompany him and train the teacher. I met with the principal. I made phone calls to the district. I talked to other parents to see if maybe it was just me. I felt so disconnected. The only communication I received said things like "happy, ate his lunch". But what was he learning? What was he doing? Who was with him?
In the midst of this, something beautiful happened. I saw B. through the eyes of other kids. Not as the little brother. Not as our kid. But as B., the 1st grader, who other kids wanted to get to know. I was shocked and overwhelmed by this response. Kids wanted to help him. They wanted to know him. They didn't view him as a freak. They were interested in how he communicated. They wanted to be with him, wanted to be his friend, wanted to learn more about him. It kept me there. It made up for the lack of communication, the fact that we were losing skills, moving backward.
And then it got worse. B. wandered off one day - unsupervised. He still had no set schedule and I still wasn't getting any communication about what he was doing. I hit the roof when I found out he was unsupervised. The teacher became the scapegoat and they fired her that day.
So we were back to square one. No teacher. No one to look after these kids. Their solution was to hire a sub who did not have a special education license until they could find the perfect fit. I made it through a couple of partial days of this. How can an untrained teacher be responsible for my mostly nonverbal son? My final straw came when I picked up my boy and he had unexplained and unnoticed blood on his clothes.
I took him out and haven't looked back.
We're at a new school now. It too was a rough start. B. FREAKED out like I've never seen and I chased him in a parking lot, in the snow, for an hour and a half trying to coax him back in.
We've only had a few days so far. Too soon to tell. But I get videos and pics about his day and his teacher cares so much that she notices things like chapped lips and runny noses. I can't fathom that he would ever have blood on his clothes there without it being noticed. He is not only cared for there but he is loved already.
We're in a better place, I think. Thank goodness B. is a resilient kiddo. He has been through so much. It makes me so sad. He is such a great, sweet kid. In fact, his classroom was filled with great, sweet kids. They were another reason I wanted to stay. They deserve more. They deserve better. I hope we have found better. I hope it's better for all of them too.
