the conference

So the conference began with, "I just can't...".  "Stop right there", I said, "That's your problem". The teacher looked at me in puzzlement and became a little bit of indignant.  "What do you mean MY problem!?" "Well", I said, "Whenever you start your sentence with 'I can't' it means that you've already given up".  "It's not my problem", he said as he straightened his tie.  "It's yours and Gerald's".  "Well", I said to him, "lets look at the situation.  Gerald does need to do his best and he should ask for help or further explanation instead of showing his frustration.  We're working on that at home.  Now you've got to do your best- and before you speak, just let me finish.  That means you as the professional have to try every means at your disposal to understand each child and to get and keep his or her attention.  Isn't that correct?  Have you done that? I don't mean teaching in the same learning style with which YOU learn, I mean discovering the learning style of the people who are being taught and teaching to THEIR learning style."  Well, that got his Ire up and I could hear one of the other teachers mumbling, "Well, this is a waste of time." I proceeded to explain that there were several things going on here.  First no one had called us until the situation for them was unbearable.  Second, it didn't seem that anyone had gone to see the counselor to ask for information or for advice. Third, teachers could either teach the subject or the student and there is a difference.  As all the 'ruffled feathers' in the room started to smooth out I looked each one in the eye and said, " How many of you know what ADD/ADHD is?"  A few heads nodded, so I asked the counselor to explain to all Gerald's teachers what ADD/ADHD was and how it impacted learning.  I then explained that I had not intention of allowing poor behavior  to be accepted or to go without a firm response for my son, but neither was I going to allow his self -esteem to be lowered further by insensitive adults who are either unwilling or unable to to give him the help he needs order to find success in school.  I pointed out the many successful doctors, lawyers, engineers, college professors and actors who had been diagnosed with ADD/ADHD.  "If we work together", I said, "We can educate my child, and he will be a recipient of the kind of education that he deserves and that we're paying for."  By the end of the conference we had mapped out some strategies and signals that would work for the student, the parents and the teachers.

I guess I knew at age 2

     It was a clear sign to me the day that his grandmother handed him a cup of soda.  After a few sips my child began running around in circles and running through the house like a toy that had been wound up too tightly and whose springs were going to pop if they didn't unwind quickly.  I couldn't believe what I was seeing.  He was a sweet little boy, active yes, but after all, he was a boy.  This, however, was more than just a boy being active.  I hadn't seen him this way before, but we didn't have soda at home, and I wouldn't have given a child that young soda at all.  We didn't have candy available for the children and when people gave it to them I would take it for their special "candy jar" (trash receptical) at home.  His sudden burst of activity sent up a flag in my mind.  It was something to remember and to watch out for.  No two year old sits for long periods of time or has an attention span that is longer than that of a mouse, but this sudden uncontrolled response to high levels of unnatural sweet substances was not something you would see everyday.  I immediately took the cup and poured the soda out.  He didn't even ask for more.  It was as though the sudden burst of energy and activity took him by surprise, too.  Well, that was it for me.  No more soda would touch his lips if I had anything to do with it.  I never mentioned it to anyone else. I just kept a mental note tucked away in my brain.

One Day in the Life

     I walked hurriedly down the hallway and turned into what was  a small conference room.  On either side of the door were two small office spaces and there was a large table in the center or the room.  Several people were sitting at the table hunched over their paperwork and from the scowls on their faces I could tell they weren't pleased with what they were reading. There were two people sitting by the window chatting on their cell phones.  No one even looked up when I entered the room, so I walked in and sat at the table.  One gentleman finally acknowledged me and said, "Are you here for the meeting? Are you Gerald's mother?". "Yes, I replied, I'm his mother".  At my response all the activity in the room stopped and everyone looked up.  Several people moved over to the table and began sorting through papers and opening folders.  I had experienced this scenario before.  Each time I had a lump in my throat, but I had looked fearlessly into the eyes of the group of people at the meeting and said, "Yes, I'm his mother".  Each time I faced a group of professionals who appeared to be at their wits end and were looking to me for help.  Those who had faced me before knew that it wouldn't be an easy meeting.  I was no push over and I  had come prepared.  I always was these days.  I would never allow a situation like my first meeting to occur again. I already knew what the opening salvo was going to be.  I knew what would follow, and I knew what outcome they were working toward.   Their mistake...they wore it on their faces.  I had experienced those same frustrations, I had used similar strategies and I had faced some of the same defeats and disappointments.

“Yes, I’m his mother”.  It was a phrase that I was becoming accustomed to repeating.  Sometimes I would stare the questioner straight in the eye.  Other times I would look down at the ground or allow my eyes to wander around the room or hallway.  It would be the same old story.