so…um…yeah.
Monday I wrote this grand post about changing how I view Howie’s days at school. Focusing on the academics. The positives. Not running right to the behavior sheet. And not using that to determine the success of the day.
Yeah.
I hit publish on that post on Monday and Howie was home 15 minutes later. And I tried. I really did. I waited to check his log sheet, going first to the work. I asked how his day was and got the standard answer of “fine”.
And then I went to the log sheet.
I get a record of how he did on his behavior plan, separated out by each hour of the six hour day. Only once that day did he “earn”.
The other remarks were “vocal outbursts at work requests”. “Hit another child”. “Scratched me.” (from his aide).
When I ask him about it, he shouts “I don’t remember!” and runs away.
Yup. Right back again.
So there’s my confession. I couldn’t even last a day without using his behavior as a measurement of success.
I had our regularly scheduled monthly meeting with his teaching team and BCBA yesterday.
They’ve taken weeks (months) of data. We’re in crisis mode now.
His triggers are unpredictable. All steps to keep him in the inclusion classroom full time have not worked. His sensory toolbox is still being refined and he’s just learning to use it.
But it’s not quick enough for them. They can’t identify what will cause the outbursts or aggressions before they happen, so they can’t help prevent it or even teach him how to prevent it.
And sure, we can look back and say “Oh well, he was getting sick so that’s why he was off that day.” Or “Daylight Savings Time throws him off every year.” Or whatever we define as the trigger after the fact.
But it doesn’t – and can’t – excuse the violent and aggressive behavior.
If we can be honest, we’ve been in this crisis mode since October.
It’s March. Eight months into the school year. And all the tweaking and fine tuning hasn’t worked.
Socially and behaviorally, he’s made no progress on any of his IEP goals. None. He’s actually regressed.
So here we have a kid who academically is shining. But as I wrote on Monday, he just can’t be in the classroom to do it. The large group time is just too much for him.
Too many distractions? Sensory overload? Not enough good peer models? Something else?
I told his team that I’ve basically put this year behind us. That I hoped we’d start summer school and first grade fresh with a new plan and new goals.
The proposal now is pulling him out of inclusion for some portion of the day for direct teaching of behavior modification. “Compliance training“.
I told a friend those were my two least favorite words in the English language now. Like, that’s the best name they could call it? Couldn’t we call it something more positive?
Maybe “Say Yes To The Dress?”
The team told us to think about it. That we would need to sign off on the pull out of the inclusion class for the work.
I told them that he was already being pulled out of the classroom because he can’t be there. Right now, it’s in response to inappropriate or aggressive behavior. So if he can’t be there, why not have it be for a positive teaching reason? And perhaps the inclusion model isn’t right for him right now.
But that’s the hardest truth to swallow. That’s the part that gets me. My kid can’t be in the classroom. He needs to be taught how to be in a classroom with 20 other kids.
The behavior that comes so naturally to other children is a constant struggle for Howie. The other kids need the academic instruction, my kid needs the behavior instruction. The social/behavioral goals are part of his overall educational success.
So while I’d really like to be that mom from Monday, the one that praises and focuses on the academic successes and accentuates the positives?
I can’t. I just can’t.
The truth is much more complicated.
And if we’re being honest, I really really hate that.
“Honesty is such a lonely word.
Everyone is so untrue.
Honesty is hardly ever heard.
And mostly what I need from you. ” – Honesty by Billy Joel
March 14, 2012 at 10:38 am
Ugh. It’s like that, isn’t it? We finally get to post something positive (stellar report card) and then…BOOM…it’s back to the same old thing.
My son is much younger, but it’s happened to us at his aftercare. I’ll get a great report…which gets overshadowed by his behavioral issues. Oh, and the incident reports. It’s how he’s gotten suspended or essentially kicked out of three mainstream aftercare facilities.
It’s the classic “in order to do something, you have to actually learn how to do it” quandary. How can one learn to behave appropriately when the opportunity to do so gets pulled?
So I have no advice besides hold onto the stellar report card. {HUGS}
March 14, 2012 at 10:53 am
Never any easy answers for our kids, huh? (((hugs)))
I truly understand how much it hurts and sucks that Howie is struggling so and maybe needs to not be in an inclusion classroom right now. However, I hope you can remember this:
1. It is NOT natural for all those other 20 kids. They all struggle with something. They just aren’t as obvious and many are, likely, going to fall through the cracks or be written off by someone else later in life. Not ALL of them, but many.
2. Howie has a good team of educators who are committed to finding the ways to help him succeed. That is no small thing. We’ve had teachers/staff who wrote my son off because the didn’t have a clue how to reach him and weren’t willing to figure it out.
Maybe, don’t write off the rest of the year so much as make it a training and experimentation period to find what works. I know you and I have faith you will make sure Howie gets what he needs.
March 14, 2012 at 11:20 am
Our children are very different from each other but I understand your pain/confusion/hurt. I don’t have any words of advice in this situation. I’m just sending you some love/support/hugs.
March 14, 2012 at 11:27 am
I am so sorry. I am really choking back the tears and shakes after reading this. I could have written this. We have been here, exactly here, many days we still are. I found myself reading this trying to figure out what Howie needs and solve it just like with my own son. As if.
Big hugs to you.
March 14, 2012 at 11:45 am
I totally understand this. We came to this conclusion for Jack this year too. Inclusion isn’t cutting it for him. It’s a great thing if it works, but it doesn’t always work. And that doesn’t mean your kid is less or worse than the other kids; it means his brain works in a way that is better taught in another environment.
Still. It’s hard. Love to you.
March 14, 2012 at 12:07 pm
I get this…I ache for you. Tate is in “instructional” kindergarten. That is a euphemism for “selfcontained”. He can’t be in an inclusion classroom yet. He is too impulsive. He needs too many sensory breaks. We strive for the inclusion, but have no idea when he’ll get there. His behaviors are too extreme…and he, like Howie, can academically cut it, but his behavior is too distracting to others. I really know where you are coming from…hugs.
March 14, 2012 at 12:25 pm
((Hugs)) I so wish I could say I have no idea what you are talking about but you have just described exactly what has been going on in my house since September. My little guy is in 2nd grade but his struggles sound identical to Howie’s. We currently have him home on Dr’s orders due to an Acute Stress Disorder caused by the “compliance training” he received at school. It sucks that life is so hard for our kids. All I can offer is, I get it and you are not alone. Hang in there!!!!
March 14, 2012 at 12:49 pm
This is where we parents of special needs kiddos struggle the most – letting go of the ideal of wanting our kid to be ln school (or sports, or groups, or whatever…) the way the “other” kids are. Howie struggles because the environment is wrong for him, not because there’s something wrong with Howie.
If I’m being honest, I would have some concerns about compliance training. Let’s say they teach him how to behave in the classroom with 20 other kids. So then he puts all his effort into managing his behavior -what’s he going to have left for the academics?
It’s a tough situation because there just aren’t enough resources to make the ideal learning environment for special kiddos.
One other thing to remember – he’s 5. This is Kindergarten. He’s going to mature.
Many hugs!!
March 14, 2012 at 12:52 pm
Firstly, I am sorry for all the stress that you must be feeling through this school year.
My wife and I struggle with our older son as well. Similar to your son, academically he shines but it is the other ‘stuff’ that is challenging. I have to admit my wife deals with these issues more than I. Anyway, when my son and I talk about his day, I hold my breath and hope that fine really does mean fine.
March 14, 2012 at 1:03 pm
I know this post all too well. I have a son who was in an inclusion classroom for 4 years. We then moved to a substantially separate class with inclusion for specials (art, music, computer, gym) and 1 academic class with support. I have learned (the heartbreakingly hard way) that sometimes the behavior is not just the sign of being on the spectrum but it can also sometimes be only a small clue that things just aren’t working and you need to tweak it until is does work just right for your child. It is years later and we still tweak things – never really following the “programs” that are in place but customizing an educational program that works for my son. That is the entire purpose of special education and the pride and success he experiences when it all comes together is priceless. I’m sending all good vibes to you and hoping that things improve for you.
March 14, 2012 at 3:53 pm
I have to say that for Jacob, being in a large classroom with class of just 12 kids, with a head teacher, an assistant teacher, and two other teaching assistants plus OT, PT, ST & counselor who float in & out of the classroom supporting the kids as needed? Is exactly what he needs. Is it inclusion? Is it ?”mainstream”? Not by any stretch of the imagination. It is “Special Ed” all the way. But perfect for him to thrive and learn and grow in, He is learning to be part of a group, learning how to be a friend.
I hope you find what you need for Howie soon. Also remember he’s still so young and kids often need one thing for K, 1, even 2 and another as they get older. He will grow and change so much in the next few years – you will barely recognize his K self soon. Honest.
Hugs.
March 14, 2012 at 4:45 pm
Oh I wish I could make this easier on you all. The only thing I can offer is remind you that you are not alone in this.
We are having similar issues with our 5 yr old too at school. Only he has no support at all in the classroom and his behaviour has gotten waaaaaay out of control at home. Maybe it’s time to fess up and write about it .
I really hope that you find the best way to cater to Howie and that the right answer becomes clear to you soon. XxxxX
March 14, 2012 at 6:28 pm
I just want to encourage you to write those bold statements (like your last post) even when we don’t quite live up to them, they help us to work out our aspirations. We all live with the reality of the day to day tough stuff, so being aspirational in our writing is a wonderful opportunity to be optimistic and we don’t get enough of those.
I too went through a very difficult phase of working out what schooling environment would best suit my little 5yo. It was heartbreaking initially to realise that mainstream/inclusion classrooms were just not going to work for him at this stage. He didn’t have the language, the self-care, the self-management to be able to survive and flourish in a room of 20 or so other kids. So he’s at the ‘special school’, he’s in a group of 6 kids, he’s getting to learn in an environment where the distractions and challenges are minimised and the opportunities, support and focus are maximised. He also gets to do a whole pile of activities that he would never get to access at a regular school. He’s got a lot of aggressive, impulsive behaviours too so working on them is a day to day (minute to minute?) challenge at home with 3 kids & 1 parent.
So even though it felt like the last option at the time, I’m SO happy with his school and all the wonderful experiences he is getting there.
I hope you can find the right environment for your little guy.
March 14, 2012 at 9:45 pm
Your words in both of your posts are so full of truth. They share the sadness and hope that we all carry with us. Please know that you are not alone. Your readers hold you like you hold us with your gift of words. Holding you.
March 15, 2012 at 7:52 pm
This is my life. How I view K’s day/month/year at school depends almost solely on her behavior. Her log is the first thing I go to when she gets home, and most of the time I just skim her work, bc she doesn’t have a lot of issues there. Instead of really concentrating on all the 100′s she gets, I jump right to behavior. Typing that out makes me feel awful. We have hit a stride of a few better months this year, but it has always been about behavior. I wish I could push that aside, too, but that is where we need the most work. I do have to start giving more attention to all the things she does well, academically, though. Thanks for the reminder to at least find that balance…
March 15, 2012 at 10:37 pm
I want to extend my hugs and say, it can get better. When my son was in kinder– we had a terrible situation– the teacher didn’t want to see my son as anything more than a kid with a huge behavior problem, and the administrator didn’t even want him at school,~ he is now in 3rd grade and even though he is still on an IEP… he has made HUGE strides. I did take my son out of school before the end of his kinder year– and it was a GREAT time for us– he has always been academically ahead, the school was okay with the early release, — Having the time with him at home, helped me to show him that I value him, and that the unwanted behavior–doesn’t take away my love.
March 17, 2012 at 3:05 pm
Hugs! Great big hugs! One of my favorite places to go when I’m worried about B’s ability to cope with other humans, is my husband’s office. He’s a geoscientist. There are plenty of people hiding in the depths of the lab who don’t talk to another human being for days at a time. Some are really socially awkward and some are only a little. But they are all brilliant, wonderful people who are living good lives. It is somehow soothing to know that he’ll fit right in:)
March 17, 2012 at 9:42 pm
Oh, Alysia, I totally feel your pain. It is so hard to be reminded of our kids’ differences. I’m dealing with something related. Danny’s not struggling with behavior issues, but he really can’t seem to learn in his classroom, for many of the same reasons as Howie–too many distractions, too much stress, etc. And I don’t know what to do about it.
I wish we lived closer–I would so love to sit and talk with you. I’d bring you some decadent brownies, because that’s my main coping technique (unfortunately). I’m sorry you’re dealing with this. You’re not alone.
March 18, 2012 at 7:23 pm
Wow….I read your blog faithfully but have never commented. This time I had to…this could have been written about my son. He is in kindergarten and is having the same exact struggles. It makes me feel better to know I am not alone….
March 22, 2012 at 1:23 pm
Thank you! You are like the 4th blog that I have read just starting on this journey – wow……..I can so relate! I sometimes dread picking up my kinder just because of his behavior journal…..I hate to say it! Thanks so much for reminding me (and apparently so many others) that we are not alone!!!