The Gym, A Girl, & Inclusion

The Boy and I were walking through the health club yesterday. I was going to a class, he was going to the playroom. Ah, the playroom. Intended for the youngest of members, those under 8 years old. The Boy, now 9, still goes in the playroom. I don't dare leave him unsupervised, wreaking havoc all over the gym. And they graciously let him continue to come in and play. All of the gym employees know him, have for years. And they understand. It sometimes is a little awkward when I go to pick him up and the other moms are picking up kids who are literally half his size. Not kidding, he's a very tall 9 year old. Sometimes we get some weird looks from the other moms. But whatever, I no longer let these silly little things bother me. My boy loves the playroom and has fun. And the playroom supervisors enjoy having him. In fact, one has become our trusted kid sitter. (I believe in using sitters who know what they are signing up for and are familiar to The Boy)

Anyway, back to my story. As we were walking through the gym to the playroom, a girl who looked to be about his age said "hi (The Boys name)". He turned to her and said "hi (The Boy's name)" right back to her. His focus was getting to the play room where he could play with all the toys. I assumed he was just echoing her greeting without paying much attention. And he went right back to obsessing over the toys in the playroom, his interaction done.

So I struck up a conversation with her. I asked her how she knew The Boy. She goes to his school. I asked her if she was in his (GenEd) class. She said no, she was in second grade. (He's in third.) This puzzled me a little so I asked her how she new The Boy. With a big grin she replied "oh, I see him around school and sometimes we play together at recess." 

And I nearly stopped in my tracks.

Here is a kid who is not in his class, has no "formal" interaction with him, and yet she sometimes plays with him at recess. Presumably unprompted, on her own. I'll be honest here, my heart nearly exploded on the spot. I worry ALL THE TIME about how The Boy integrates into the general population at his school. Do they accept him? Does he socialize with them? Is he comfortable interacting with them? Are they comfortable interacting with him? Is he developing relationships? Does he have friends? And on and on.

I think about these things all the time. Because in the end, our goal for the The Boy is to live a full, productive adult life with a job and social life out in the community. What form this takes, well we don't know yet, but that is the general goal. And how can he reach that goal if we don't start now with interactions with his typical peers. Encouraging social interactions from both sides. Encouraging him to be part of the community now, his community at school as well as the community at large. Developing relationships. Encouraging inclusion, acceptance, understanding on all parts. And more importantly, everyone enjoying those interactions and relationships.

Exchanges like the one I had with that young lady truly encourage me. Seriously, my heart was singing. It was so full of peace and love and hope. I wanted to hug her, but didn't want to scare her. 

I know, I know, its a far cry from an elementary school to the adult community at large (or even the high school). I don't completely live in a Pollyanna world. I know that we have a very long road to travel. But its a start in the right direction. And I'll take my encouragement where ever I can find it.

Oh, and the girl's name? Turns out it is the same as The Boy's. He wasn't echoing, he was really saying hi to her. 

Placement

Its that time of year. We are starting the discussions of Bambam's placement next year. Mr. Fixit and I actually started the discussion this year. We've begun to wonder if Bambam's current placement is the best environment for him to learn and grow. We've been discussing it at home for months. And have now started discussing it with Bambam's educational team.

We love our neighborhood school. And they have been wonderful to Bambam. All of them. The teachers, his aids, the kids, the office staff, the librarian, even the janitor. Every single person there. He couldn't be in a place where he is more accepted, included, loved and even celebrated. Except maybe at home. 

But here's the thing. He's now 8, finishing up 2nd grade. Well, his version anyway. And, he's yards behind. He is learning; always plugging ahead in his own way, in his own time. But so are all the other kids. And it's obvious he isn't going to catch up any time soon. Maybe never. His is a different path. And that's OK. We need to respect that, embrace it even. 

3rd grade is a pretty big jump. All of a sudden the kids are in a more academic environment with far more self study. They need to be self starters. Gone are the story times and longer recesses. Gone are the classroom buddies from the older classes helping them with projects. Now they are the older class with kindergarten buddies to help. And honestly, Bambam is just not ready for that. Any of it. 

While his classmates are reading small chapter books, he is learning to read sight words and short sentences. His classmates are learning multiplication tables and he's still correspondence counting to 10 and sorting like objects. They are writing in daily journals and he's learning to write his name. Self starter is not a word I would use to describe his learning style. Unless it involves a ball or an animal, his attention span is about 11 minutes. None of this lends itself very successfully to 3rd grade in a typical classroom. We've decided its time to look at all of our options. 

We could continue on our current path. Assign him to a home classroom with a 1:1. Continue with the individualized education plan that includes his own academic goals, along with social, adaptive, speech, OT, and PT goals. But here is what happens. He gets overwhelmed with sensory input in the classroom. So he and his aid have a cubicle in the LRC where he spends 75-80% of his day doing 1:1 work with her. Isolated from all the other kids. Isolated from everyone. And I'm not sure this is what's best for him. It is the best the school could provide under the current conditions, and we are ever so thankful for that. But is it what is best for Bambam? I'm not so sure.

I've been watching Bambam at school, paying close attention to his non-verbal queues. And its very clear to me that he is starting to see the differences between his classmates and himself. Until now, he appeared to not notice. Whether this is true or not, I don't know. But now, I see hints of him seeing it, becoming aware of it. He wants to do what his classmates are doing, but he can't. He notices when someone is watching or staring at him. He may not totally understand all of the reasons why, but he's noticing that it is different. And in some ways it breaks my heart. Ignorance can be bliss. 

But if he's noticing, I think it is critical that he know there are other kids like him. He needs to find "his people". He needs "neurological peers". He also need "neuro-typical peers". I think both are critical to his growth and well being. He needs to know he is not alone, but he also needs to learn how to function in a world full of "neuro-typical people". Because that is what we have. The truth is, he will always have to interact with NT people. Hopefully he will also be around those similar to him, others on the spectrum.

And so, we are going to visit the self contained classroom in our district. This has been a major evolution for me. In the past I was adamantly opposed to placing him in the self contained classroom. And now I'm asking to see it. Our growth as humans never ends, but that is a thought for another day. 

Tomorrow morning at 9:00 am, I will be sitting in the back of the self contained K-3 classroom located in another school. I'm both curious and terrified. I do not know what I will find there. I'm hoping to find children with varying differences but still similar to Bambam. I'm hoping to find a teacher and a whole slew of aids who are knowledgeable, patient, understanding, kind, encouraging, and loving. I'm hoping to find NT kids in the other classrooms that are accepting and inclusive but more importantly, kind and caring. I'm hoping to find administrators who "get it". I'm hoping.

But even if we find the most wonderful, best of all possible situations in that self contained classroom in the other school, we are still faced with a very difficult decision. Bambam loves his school. He loves his classmates. He talks about his friends constantly. He has play dates with them, goes to their birthday parties and they come to his. How can we pull him out of his current school where he's been in class with the these kids for 3 years? Kids who know him, understand him, know how to interact with him, include him, genuinely like him. And it is not just the kids in his class. It is the entire school. They are like part of our extended family. I wish the self contained classroom was in his current school.

These decisions are so hard. We so desperately want to make the right decision for our sweet boy. Sometimes I wish he came with an instruction guide.