The emotions that I feel about my son’s horrendous year continues to hit me in waves. I know it sounds a bit over dramatic to onlookers, but it feels very much like a journey through the different stages of grief.
I guess I am mourning what school was supposed to be, what it should have been.
Some days I feel content about our decision. The stress and anxiety had reached a point that we knew we had to act. Now, we see so many more smiles. We hear so many more conversations, ideas, and questions. We hear laughter. There was a really long time where the crying overwhelmed any laughter.
A child absent of laughter? Unacceptable.
Even knowing all this, there are still days that I feel doubt. Was it really the best decision? Did we try everything? Are we only helping him avoid his biggest struggles?
There are days where I still feel disbelief. Surprised that we are now a homeschooling family since I am a proud, veteran school teacher. I believe in public school.
Today, I am mad.
I am mad that a group of supposed “professionals” couldn’t focus on his strengths or interests. They were determined to make his difficulties and learning differences the target. They ignored our questions about his needs being met, but were quick to stop us in the hall about his challenges.
I am mad that my highly gifted child thinks that school and learning is for others, not for “a boy like me.”
I am mad at the fact that they call themselves “educators” and “experts”. I am mad at the damage they do to my profession.
I am mad at the time that we have to spend to prove their harm. Their recklessness. Their negligence. Their stubbornness and arrogance.
Clearly, I am not at acceptance yet.
Honestly, I don’t think I can claim that place until the investigation with the Office of Civil Rights is done. I want them to admit their wrong doing. I want them to explain what they will do to make it right. I want a god damn apology for my son and my family. I want it! I need it!
Each stage of mourning seems to be real; valid after the hellish time our son and family has experienced.
Some of you will totally get it; you have lived it or you know that unfortunately this could be your future path too. Others will not get it. I know that and your ignorant, judgmental comments will only add to the awareness, to the discussion.
If you can’t tell, this is all still raw and change is hard for me. Transitions take time. I guess that I shouldn’t be surprised that this journey is no different.