SHOULD I DO THIS?

We recently started our fifth year of homeschooling with my older son, who is now 14 and in the 8^th grade.  It has been quite a journey.  As with most Homeschoolers who started in the public school system, we have a story as to why we started homeschooling, and it might be hard to understand why we continue to do this, without knowing “Our Story”.  So I’m going to take a cathartic moment and share!

             

When my beautiful little boy was 3 years old, he was still mostly non-verbal.  I had worked in childcare for most of his life, so I recognized that he was bright in many ways, but not on-level in many others.  I had also been able to spend time with him while still working, so I knew his delays weren’t from a lack of care.  So, with guidance from a wonderful Nurse Practitioner, we enrolled him in Early Head Start.  It was a traumatic day for Mamma when I put my most prized treasure on a school bus and watched him ride away with a huge smile on his face, knowing that if there was any kind of emergency, my son was incapable of telling anyone even so little of information as his own name!

             

Mamma’s trauma aside, it was a great experience.  My son enjoyed his time in school and started to progress.  By the time he was 4 years old, he had finally begun talking and made incredible leaps and bounds throughout that year and the next.  When he completed 1^st grade, his teacher had WONDERFUL things to say about him: happy, friendly, helpful, very empathetic!  However, while he was only slightly behind on his learning skills, his social skills were still a noticeably behind and so we decided to hold him back at this age, to try to avoid the possibility of having to hold him back later, when it would be more of a social stigma.

             

Another year of 1^st grade and more of the same: great attitude, happy, friendly, a joy in the classroom!! While he still struggled to keep up academically, at least he was happy and doing his best.

             

Then we moved from Washington State to Small-Town Missouri.  We were told that we were in a community with great schools.  I was able to talk to his teacher and obtain a new IEP and all looked like it would continue as before.  However within two weeks I was getting notes from his teacher saying how BJ was being disruptive, talking to the other kids and not getting his work done.  And things went down from there.  By the last quarter of 3^rd grade, I was making deals with his teacher about only taking my son to Basketball if all his work had gotten done.  I couldn’t understand how “he’s such a wonderful, sweet boy—a joy in the classroom,” had become “he’s always talking and disrupting the classroom, and he’s not even trying.”

             

By the time Basketball season was over, he had essentially dropped out of that activity due to not having his work done at school, so not being allowed to participate.  Then his teacher called and said he had refused to do an assignment for her, and what was I going to do about it?  I admitted I wasn’t sure what else TO do, what did she suggest?  “Well, why don’t you not allow him to participate in Cub Scouts?”  Somehow that was the moment that drew me up short.  Scouts was the one place that I knew he was being able to learn, have fun and experience some much-needed-success!  I was his Den Leader, so I knew that he wasn’t any more disruptive than any of the other boys—they’re boys!!  It was that moment that I decided maybe there was something wrong here, and NOT my son.

           

 I asked his teacher if I could come into the classroom to observe, to see what exactly was happening, so I could more easily address it at home.  She told me that they were currently preparing for the MAPS testing, so I could not be in the classroom at this time.  “Aren’t you going to do anything to hold up the ‘deal’ we made with him at the last conference??” she asked in an accusatory tone.  “Uhm, that doesn’t seem to be working.  I think we need to try something else.”  At which point she practically hung up on me.  So I called the principal.  She was more than willing to let me come into the classroom to observe and apologized for her teacher speaking to me with an inappropriate attitude. (Whew! At least THAT made me feel like someone was in our corner!)

             

So the next day I sat in on part of his afternoon class.  I was there for 15 minutes and had to leave so no one would see me cry.

           

 The teacher had the entire class sitting at their desks with Social Studies books and worksheets.  One child would read the question for the group, then they’d all individually find the answer and write it on their papers.  Once they were done, they were expected to pick up their “Free-Reading” books until everyone was done with THAT question.  Meanwhile the teacher would go around and answer questions, help the students find the answers, etc.  Finally everyone seemed to be done and Mrs. B asked if everyone was ready to move on? Any other questions? “(Big sigh) BJ, are YOU done? Do YOU need help??”  There is no way to type the tone of voice she used; it made me cringe.  And of course, he needed help.  She again sighed and turned his page, “Look, BJ, the answer is right here, in this paragraph.”  Keep in mind, my son was only reading at a 1^st grade level, having made no progress in reading since moving here.  So reading the Social Studies text was a challenge, making it impossible to actually comprehend what he had read.  As he sat there with his head in his hands, and the teacher standing over him practically tapping her foot, the whole class was now watching.  “BJ, LOOK! RIGHT HERE! It says…….”  And then of course he had to try to copy the section she’d pointed out onto the line on the worksheet, not even knowing what exactly he was writing.

           

I can’t even express how much that scene hurt me.  My beautiful, happy, loving, empathetic child was being ABUSED by his teacher and no one even saw it! That teacher had essentially just told the entire class that he was stupid, and worse, that it was ok to make fun of him for it!  No wonder he had started hating school and feeling like he was stupid—I would too!

           

 I’d like to be able to say that I took my son by the hand right then and whisked him away from that school.  That I told his teacher she was a mean old crone and never let her speak to my son again.

             

But I was weak and scared.  Worried about “could I do this?” “should I do this?” “I don’t want to burn any bridges by making a big scene.”

             

So I let him finish the last 3 weeks of that school year.

           

I don’t think that decision made any huge difference in anyone’s life.  BJ had already had an entire school year of this situation; I doubt that 3 weeks would have really changed anything for him in the long run.  However, I still wish I had had the guts to pull him at that moment.