Monday, August 23, 2010

Max Begins a New School - A Diary of Sorts

Thursday, August 19: I attend an Open House.  I speak briefly to the general education Kindergarten teacher assigned to my son.  She explains that another teacher, his special education teacher, is a person with whom I should speak.  I do so, relaying that I am quite nervous about this experience.  She answers a good deal of my questions, and I go to the general education room, believing that it is there where I will receive both pertinent and important information about my son's experience with what I thought would be Kindergarten. 

Friday, Saturday, Sunday: I check and recheck, much in Walter Paul OCD fashion, the school website.  Students and parents in Kindergarten are to attend the first day of school for an hour.  Last names A-M come from 8:30 - 9:30.  Last names N-Z come from 10:00-11:00.  Sunday night: Generic voicemail from principal says Kindergarteners should come at 8:30, causing a small heart attack when I listen to it Monday morning.

Monday, August 23: Max has a restless sleep, and wakes up with the rash he had for a while blazing across his trunk.  Doctor is called.  I call school (a little frantic) in response to the voicemail from last night and am reassured that he is to come at 10:00.

I take Max to get his favorite breakfast and take some photos.  He's a happy little dude.  We get to school.  We have our first day of school cards ready to give to the teachers.  We see the general education teacher.  The special education room's door is closed and the room appears empty, but we are early, so no worries.  The general education teacher, along with the other Kindergarten teachers, are welcoming their classes and parents with various activities. Max and I sit in the common area watching.  A kind teacher, not any of Max's, gives us some books to read while we wait.

At around 9:55, I am brazen enough to open the door to the special education classroom.  No one is in there, but there are traces that a class has been here.  At 10:00 I go to the office.  At this point, I am getting visibly upset, as all of the other parents and kids have started their happy little scavenger hunts throughout the school.  The office assures me that the teacher will be there.  I assist Max in upacking his box of supplies in a manner that it seems like others in the room have done.  My mind wonders why, exactly he, too could not have been doing a scavenger hunt with me.

At 10:10, I go back to the office, this time, unable to hold back tears.  The principal takes me to find my son's teacher and class on the playground for recess.  They had expected us at 8:30, and "wondered where we were," but the office told them we would be there at 10.  (Yes, when we were told to be there.  You are following.)  I later wonder why one of the aides did not stay back in the room and wait for Max, since they were told he would be there at 10. We re-enter the room, where we are given a card and told he needs to put his name on it and decorate it for a magnet.  I speak briefly with the teacher and a bit more with the aides.  I await direction.  None is provided.  It appears that students are playing with different games and blocks, so Max and I follow suit.  I am told that he is cute and is "so dressed up" for school.

At 11:00, students line up at the door as if they have been doing this for quite some time.  We leave for Max's doctor appointment.

And this was the experience of my son's first day of Kindergarten.  I left out the crying I did almost all day, feeling majorly robbed of what should have been a welcoming, organized, fun morning.  I did not expect for it to be perfect.  I know better.  But I did expect for it to be MUCH different.

You see, Unit 5 keeps talking about "inclusion."  I am wondering what their operating definition is of that term.  Mine is that the students are with a general education teacher until and unless they have severe needs that make that impossible.  Their version seems to be that his general education experience will be rendered to PE, music, art, and lunch, with some centers with the other students as the teachers see fit.

Mind you, I am wounded, but not broken.  Once I can get through my feelings of sheer disappointment, we will have clarity about how this year will go in the LEAST restrictive environment for my son. 

What I did not mention was the stress of the last week with getting my own room together and getting ready for my own students as well as getting my own children ready for their new experiences.  But that's a whole other story.

On an up note, Max was diagnosed with hives and is taking an antihistamine, which seems to be giving him some relief.  A friend shared that her son had pityriasis rosea, and, when she saw Max's photo, she thought it looked familiar to what her son had.  When she described it, the symptoms sounded REALLY familiar.  Either way, he looks a little less like a leper!  Yeah!  And, when all is said and done, he did not know that his experience with his first day of Kindergarten should have been any different than what it was.  I sure did, though.

Tomorrow is his first full day without me.  There was a darling little boy named Caden in his room.  Caden likes foraging for acorns at recess.  He's a pretty cool little dude, and quite chatty.  He enjoyed my rendition of If You Take a Mouse to School.  I think he and Max will be great friends.  :)  And now, I must wrap my brain around what, exactly, tomorrow will look like in my own classroom.

On a very high note, much earlier than expected, my student teacher got to be in charge of the room today.  She did a great job planning, and I can't wait to hear more about how everything flowed.  I am SO grateful to have her!!

4 comments:

Krystal said...

Thanks for sharing this JoLynn! I know that you will be an amazing advocate for that precious little boy! He is so lucky to have you and I appreciate your sharing!

Mandy White said...

I bet he didn't know the difference and just loved being with mom at his big boy school! You are wonderful!!!

Unknown said...

JoLynn,

My heart is broken for you and Max. Thank you so much for sharing. Evevn though I too have similar stories.of my own, your message reminds me to evaluate what I am doing to make my students and parents feel welcome.

Ashley

Unknown said...

Jolynn, I'm so sorry you had to go through this nonsense. I hope the rest of the year goes much, much better for you and Max.