Schuyler starts her summer camp program today.
I hate turning her over to other people. A while back, I wrote about my secret dream, which was for us all to move to an island somewhere and be together without all the fears and pitfalls of a cruel society. It wasn't a healthy dream, I admitted as such at the time. On days like today, however, when Schuyler walks into another new situation armed only with her tough girl disposition and her Big Box of Words, my stomach ties in tight knots with all the old fears. That island sounded pretty good to me this morning.
A friend of mine recently found out that the teachers at her five year-old daughter's private school were singling out her kid for special treatment. It's not my kid, so I won't get into the specifics, but let's just say that I was a little surprised to learn that these teachers were adopting the Lord of the Flies educational model. A shame circle? WTF?
The details aren't important. What is relevant about this story is that the teachers apparently counted on the kids to keep the situation a secret, and for a long time, they succeeded through the use of that time-honored teaching tool, embarrassment. My friend didn't find out from her daughter, who was humiliated by the experience and was keeping it to herself, but from other parents where were hearing bits and pieces of the story from their kids.
The reason this story upset me so much, aside from the fact that in general, I'm not in favor of little kids being humiliated, is that this happened to a little girl who can speak. This happened to a little girl who loves to talk. I think you can see where this is going.
We're in a delicate place with Schuyler. A year ago, she was just beginning to use her device and was still spending all her time in a heavily (if incompetently) supervised special needs program. In a year or two from now, she will hopefully be proficient enough with her device that she will be able to accurately communicate to us if things go wrong and no one's around to stop it.
But right now, it's hard. Schuyler's spending more and more time in mainstream programs, and this summer, she'll be spending the better part of every day surrounded by neuro-typical kids. Neuro-typical North Dallas kids, many of whom will presumedly grow into North Dallas teenagers like the ones who recently had drug-infused muffins delivered to a local rival school's teachers and made a bunch of them sick.
She's still learning how to use her device, and communicating detailed incidents is still very difficult for her. We depend on her teachers and her after-school program staff to tell us when something happens, but we can all remember how often grown-ups got it wrong, and how important it was for someone to take us seriously when we needed to tell our side of the story.
Schuyler needs to be able to tell her side.
Julie came home from dropping Schuyler off this morning, and she was in tears. Nothing bad happened; Schuyler was nervous and hesitant at first, but then she saw some kids she recognized and was off in a flash. This is summer camp; she'll be outside almost the whole time, playing and swimming and getting dirty and eating bugs and generally being a kid during the summertime. Today wasn't a bad start at all.
But Julie was scared, like I'm scared. She'd like the island, too, but she sees better than I do that Schuyler would hate the island. Schuyer would swim to the next island when no one was looking and go play with the headhunter kids.
As much as I turn into Barbarian Dad when the world pushes Schuyler around, Julie is just as sensitive. But more than that, she's dedicated to the idea, as I am, that Schuyler's world shouldn't be so fucked up. The monster shouldn't be calling as many of the shots as it still is.
"I just want her to have fun like any other kid," Julie said through her tears. "I want her to be able to go swim and play and have fun like I always did when I was a little girl. I hate her stupid device sometimes. I don't want her to be different."
When things are going badly for Schuyler, it's hard to be her parent. But the thing is, sometimes it's hard when nothing's wrong, too.
12 comments:
HUGS!
It's all I've got.
My kid has no idea he has Cerebral palsy...not yet...but when? When will he know he's differnt? I suspect when some kid points it out the first time he'll punch him in the face (he's like that).
It seems to be that yes it is hardest for me when it's just day to day things that point out how sucky it all is. On the days I am surrounded by his differences I am strong. On days when he is strong I let my guard down a little. It's a big world, so big for such little special people. It's all I've got today.
Hey,
I'm new, but I felt like I should come out of lurking and relay our story. My little girl is very normal, and happens to be way above her current grade level. She's in the advanced class at her preschool with children who are almost a year older than she is. We're very proud of her, but we're also hesitant because she's a year behind these kids in maturity, which in preschool years, can be a lot.
Most of the kids were nice enough, and some of the alpha females picked on her, but she let it slide. However, we found out in December, through a slip on her part that her teachers were hitting her with a yard stick.
Yes, a yard stick. On a four-year-old.
Anyhow, we called some of the other parents and found out to our horror that there were only 2-3 of them that were getting hit. We also found out why our child was getting hit -- because she wouldn't take a nap. She wiggled around on her mat too much during her two-hour school-mandated nap time.
The part that just kills me is that our precocious child never told us because she thought that's what her teacher should do if she was bad because she was the adult, and our daughter was misbehaving.
Our daughter was moved, and I'm happy to say that this ugly incident is far removed from her memory, but it has left permanent scars on ours. Her new teacher thinks the world of her and she was able to procure more friends in a month than an entire semester at her old school.
Schuyler is a beautiful child. She is so very fortunate to have parents that love her so much. Even if her BBoW doesn't have the capability to relay exactly what bad thing has happened, be SURE she knows that she CAN relay bad things, and that you will always be there for her. She needs to know that she can tell you anything without getting into trouble.
I regret that we took for granted that our little girl knew that.
I understand your concerns and they are valid ones. I don't even have any wise words to offer you because episodes like the one you've referenced here happen all the time---even in high school. My daughter had a problem with her math teacher and some words were spoken and when my daughter came home she told me she wanted out of that class. When it wasn't possible because they were too far into the semester, she BEGGED me not to make too big a deal out of it because the kids whose parents called and made their displeasures known, were spotlighted the next day by the teacher. She would say, "well, we were going to have an easy day but since "so-and-so" complained, we'll be working nonstop for the next hour." No kid wants THAT on their shoulder and so what they are taught is that it's far better to remain silent. This is what I hate about schools...most work harder at breaking down rather than building up.
I'm the mom of a blessedly normal four month old. (so far). I do spend a considerable amount of time worried that one day, something may happen, or those fears of the ties between vaccinations and autism will come founded in my kid.
I have such a fiercely protective attitude for my kid. I can't even begin to imagine how it feels for you.
I'm glad Schuyler is strong. She's still a fragile kid in many ways, but she bulldozes on and that's pretty amazing.
Anyway, if it's any consolation, my aim is to raise my daughter in such a way that she knows that the worse possible thing she could do would be to make another kid feel small just because she possibly can. I think I'd rather her do any other rebellious thing than that.
But I ramble. What I want to convey is just that there are good kids out there. And I do hope that these kids help make Schuyler's days bright and vice versa. Schuyler certainly has that ability to imapact someone.
Beautiful post. You two are so brave. And Schuyler seems to be so resilient and sociable. You're right, she'd hate the island.
As long as she is able to be honest with you about how she's feeling, you WILL be able to defend her and protect her enough to get her to the point where she can do that for herself.
Life is hard, but she's got two wonderful parents and a radiant soul. And she'll have many, many friends.
Ah! I love this photo of her, it looks like its from the '40's.
Have fun at camp Schuyler. Can't wait to hear about all the stories she has to tell about it.
Maybe I'm wrong, but I have a feeling that Schuyler would find some highly creative way to tell you if something has gone wrong in her life. You probably could just tell even by how she's acting.
It's amazing to see her language skills developing, everyday it sounds like she has something new to tell you.
I just want to say that even though I'm a mom to two 'typical' kids(tho some might question that :\), what you describe is not at all unlike what I feel every time I send my kids out the door. I've been threatening lately to homeschool because, well, I want to be in control of every single minute detail of their universe so that their lives are absolutely perfect in every possible way. Ah, if wishes were horses... I know it's not logical to think that we can shield them from all the bad stuff in the world, and I've even had very well-meaning people tell me I shouldn't be overprotective and that getting knocked about in the world is good for us. But, damn, seems like as protective as you can possibly get you still can't save them from most of it, so I'm going to do my best to try.
And to the person who commented that a TEACHER was hitting your kid with a YARD STICK- well, I hope someone got beat with a two-by-four in retaliation (the teacher, specifically). Boy, I'm going to tuck that story away for the next person that says I'm paranoid for being suspicious of what goes on at school...
"...many of whom will presumedly grow into North Dallas teenagers like the ones who recently had drug-infused muffins delivered to a local rival school's teachers and made a bunch of them sick."
Ah, yes, Rob, but is what's bothering you that said ND teenagers may not be nice to Schuyler, or that Schuyler is more than likely going to be one of those teenagers? Not that I think that your cherub will ever do anything intentionally to make people ill, but I'm not sure that there was all that much malice behind the muffins story, either - just idiocy.
I don't know that it's terribly fair to point out twice that it was a Montessori school where your friend's kid had the unfortunate experience. Such a thing is clearly not part of the Montessori method (whether the school is Montessori-accredited or not... which I doubt the school in question is). A drive-by Googler could easily get the wrong impression.
That those sorts of things are never expected at a private school, where one pays folding money to receive presumably better treatment, is a totally valid point to make... but was the educational method of the school really germane to the story? Bad apples are present in every teaching system.
Montessori is noted for its caring philosophies and inclusive class structures. Montessori was "mainstreaming" before that was even a word. It would be a shame for someone to miss those facts because of a sensational qualifier.
I understand what you are saying, Tracy, and I agree up toa point. (The obvious reason for emphasizing that it was a Montessori school was to point out that things like that can occur anywhere.) I disagree, however, that I am misrepresenting the Montessori system when I mention this story.
If a school operates under the banner of Montessori and does so in a shameful way, there's no way around the fact that they are staining the reputation of the methodology. Their actions may not represent the method accurately, but assuming that every Montessori school undergoes some sort of accreditation, they engage in whatever kind of behavior under that banner. Those teachers represent Montessori, for better or worse.
assuming that every Montessori school undergoes some sort of accreditation ~
Unfortunately, they don't. Accreditation has been a very sticky subject in Montessori communities for decades, as basically any school who uses anything that they think corresponds to Montessori method can adopt the name, no matter how tenuous the connection between the practices and the actual teaching method. The school in question could call itself Montessori because the owner read a book once.
You're right that technically, that school is representing Montessori for good or bad. But you have a Google PR of 6; it won't be long before people will find you and use your anecdotal hearsay as evidence against Montessori. I just hate it that a really wonderful teaching method is getting a public black mark when, as you stated, the Montessori itself wasn't actually germane to the story, and we don't really know all the details about your friend's school.
(Can you tell that I, my brother, and my kid were all Montessori products? =) Obviously I'm protective -- maybe overly so --because it's close to home.)
Ah. I didn't realize they weren't accredited, that really changes everything, doesn't it? As soon as Blogger starts occoperating, I'll make the appropriate edits. Thanks for making me aware of that.
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