Soapbox

The “H” word

So I’ve got this kid…. and I decided that he’s mine, damnit, and I’ll do with him as I want.

Stephen is a child who has unique abilities, and unique challenges. We’ve known this since he was two and was already learning how to read but was afraid of "big strong potties" and jello. He’s in middle school now, which is not an environment known for nurturing the unique. In fact, it pretty much is the educational equivalent of Godzilla meets Bambi: Thanks for coming ~squish~

He has been having a rough time of it for the last year and a half. He’s had some good teachers who tried to understand him, and some things have gone well, but he’s been mostly miserable, and I only recently found out how miserable. How could I not have known?

For a variety of administrative and stupidity reasons, dicipline at his school is almost non-existant. The kids who don’t want to be there and don’t want to learn run the show, and a weird, brainy, non-athletic dreamer kid like Stephen is raw meat for this crowd. He was harrassed and tormented on a daily basis. It came to a head in early December when he came home limping one day: his knee was swollen and he had bruises from a beating he had taken in the gym that morning. When I talked to the assistant principal about it she said "You know, you could press charges against these kids."
"Well I could… IF anyone knew who they were!" I retorted angrily. Each morning when the kids arrive they are herded into the gym to await the first bell. The doors are shut and teachers patrol the hallway outside to make sure no one escapes…but there is no adult in the gym to prevent a Lord of the Flies situation from occurring! It’s like a zookeeper locking the lions in with the gazelles and standing guard outside to make sure no gazelles try to make a run for it. I guess it takes a degree in education to come up with an idea that stupid.

The second time it happened to him, I decided I had had enough and declared I was pulling him OUT of that stupid school! That decision was pretty easy: what to do next was much tougher. I looked around at other schools in the neighborhood- the ones I had already rejected in favor of the one he was now in- and decided I had to reconsider the dreaded "H" word: homeschooling.

Yeah, I know- that was always my attitude too: homeschooling is a bunch of weirdo rapture christians who don’t want their kids exposed to the dangers of science, or the Montana militia types who don’t want the government brainwashing their children. But I had a friend, Stephen’s cub scout pack leader, in fact, who had decided to homeschool her son just for middle school, plus a good friend of mine in North Carolina who was doing the same thing with her boys. Neither of them seemed particularly crazy. Maybe it could work…?

I talked with my friends and they were both really positive about it. "Easiest thing in the world!" they assured me. "You are way smart enough and capable enough to do this! " Karen told me about the local homeschool network she was tapped into, and the group activities it offered, and went through the paperwork I would have to do to get Stephen out from under the system. They were really supportive, but not everyone was. Most people I would talk to would just blanch at the word "homeschool". The most frequent arguement I heard against it was that middle school is a critical time for boys, and they really need the socialization that public school provides. Wait… you mean what he is enduring is socialization? He is miserable, frightened, depressed and this kid, who could solve for X in a math problem in kindergarten is starting to get bad grades!

"If you think he needs to get out of there, then get him out!" my friend in North Carolina said. "They mean well, but who knows your child better than you do?" Ted and I talked it over one cold night. It was one of those parenting moments that are just tough no matter how you slice them, but he was a rock.
"I trust you totally" he said to me. "You have been that child’s best friend since the day he was born. If anyone can do it, you can. I say, get him the hell away from that school!"

So I did: I informed the school that after Christmas vacation, my child would not be attending their school. My main fear was the damn 8th grade proficiency test he will have next year, and what if he somehow fails it because I don’t prepare him? I talked to the curriculum coordinator, a wonderful woman with decades of experience, who smiled. "He could pass that test today, honey" she said but pulled out a thick stack of papers. "These are the materials we use to prep for the test. You can base your lessons on this, but I bet you’ll find he is already beyond most of it." She gave me a hug and wished me good luck and I was on my own.
I went home and typed up the most important letter of my life:
"Dear Superintendent Smith,
This is to inform you…."

I sent it off by registered mail, got my receipt and that, supposedly, was that. Stephen’s education was now officially my responsibility again. When he came home that last day before Christmas break with his bag stuffed with all the junk from his locker, he looked like the weight of the world was off his shoulders and I started to believe that things would be OK.

Fast forward: January 3, school resumes. I wake up with a cold coming on but it’s the first day of homeschool and I feel I must have lessons. Katie gets on the bus and I am at the kitchen table trying to do math (not my best subject) when the phone rings. It’s Mifflin Middle School, wanting to know why Steve isn’t in school. I talk to the assistant principal, remind her that I have taken Stephen out and she says "Oh, the paperwork probably hasn’t reached us yet. I’ll mark him excused." The same thing happens the next morning, and the next.
The fourth day I get a call from the principal himself, wanting to know where my child is. I am in a full blown case of the flu by now, shaking with chills, but tell him the story- and he cuts me off.

"I don’t know anything about that: I have no paperwork, and he is not excused. In fact, he is not excused for any of this week. You need to either get that boy to school now or I will send the police to bring him in as a truant!"

Holy freaking mother of Christ- I about blew a gasket. I may have been running a fever and more congested than a rush-hour freeway, but he was messing with the wrong woman!
"Mr. Waddell, you’re telling me that you have kids down there beating other children like mine on a regular basis, but you think the best use for the police at your school is to arrest my honor roll student and drag him back there??!!" I told him I would straighten this all out and slammed down the phone… and burst into tears.

I called my friend and wailed that Stephen was about to be arrested and I had ruined his entire life and his permenant and what should I do? She told me to calm down and made a few calls and got me the phone number of someone down at the school main office to talk to. The no-nonsense woman who answered the phone cut right to the chase.
"You have a receipt that we got your letter of notification over 10 business days ago?"
"Yes ma’am."
"Did you type your letter on a computer, and do you still have the file?"
"Yes ma’am"

One half hour and a good dose of cough syrup later later I ran into the downtown office with a copy of the letter I had sent to the superintendent and the receipt I had gotten in December. My avenging angel looked them over, made a few "uh huh" sounds and picked up the phone. She called the principal at Mifflin and informed him in no uncertain terms that Stephen Andrew Meisky IS legally excused from attending public school, retroactive to the beginning of the week, and in fact she expected all record of his absences expunged from his permenant record. Oh hallelujah!

I’m happy to report it has been all up from there. We aren’t sure what we will do next year- we’re considering a private school, but Steve and I are zipping through lessons happily: we started pre-algebra this week, and have done a few art classes at the homeschool Resource Center, which was fun. He’s sleeping better, smiling more and I’m coming up with new project ideas every day, and I think I just might not have ruined his entire life after all.

But I suppose that remains to be seen. In the meantime, I get to spend every day with my son, who is, after all, one of my favorite people on earth, and he doesn’t seem to mind too much hanging with his old mom.