There is so much venom out there about parents who talk about their gifted kids. A lot of us also feel a social stigma against saying much of anything about a child’s capabilities lest it comes across as bragging.
If no one talks about their kids in a way to identify who’s dealing with similar educational issues, it’s hard to find peers.
Why does this matter?
For some people, it doesn’t.
For others, well, learning to advocate for your child’s needs in a public school system requires a lot of interpersonal skills. Some people call it like a poker game, others call it like a game of hearts. Either way, it requires knowing the legal, administrative, and interpersonal rules. It requires knowing who at the school sees kids as individuals, who sees them as numbers, and who sees them as formed from cookie cutters. When you are in the midst of a crisis, you need a friend to talk to. Spouses are great. They know the kid well and might see a different aspect of the child or interpret things differently. But more than likely, if you’re the one reading this blog, your spouse isn’t the one in the know of whether or not the principal or the vice principal has a better vibe. Our own parents can be great resources. They can tell us what it was like raising us and what barriers they encountered in getting us our own educations. But we were raised in the days before NCLB and other policies that put educators on the defensive.
What many of us need is a friend who has seen all corners of our child’s school and is on a first name basis with the administrative and intervention personnel.
I got my initial tutoring in advocacy from Jen (@jcgrx). Jen is the parent of a kind, gregarious child, who also struggles to learn. This child has two parents that are equally kind, and who have been through the wringer working with the school to appropriately support her child in her learning needs and yet to keep the expectations high.
That’s right, she was advocating for higher expectations for her child. That should sound familiar.
Over several months, someone who started as an acquaintance became a friend. Jen noticed my then second grade daughter would crumple in on herself as we approached the school each morning. Over time, we talked more and more, and it became clear that we had very similar goals and struggles for our kids. The teachers struggled to see the whole child. The expectations needed to be higher.
As we approached our first intervention meeting, my basic goal was “when my kid asks to learn more, can you do something besides say ‘no’?” Jen tutored me on what to say and what not to say. She told me who in the meeting would be an advocate for my child, and who would not. She told me how to find the rules, who to call, and how to find more information. She consoled me when the meeting turned out to be mostly a failure, and listened to me rant for probably weeks on end after that. She guided me through the initial sprint and helped me see that I was in for a marathon of advocacy.
I had an ally and a mentor. Indeed, I’ve found over the years that parents of kids with learning disabilities, twice exceptional or not, are some of my best friends and allies. They understand at their very core that kids are individuals and have individual needs.
Indeed, look up Jen on twitter. You’ll see that she has the quote “Whenever one person steps up and says 'Wait a minute, this is wrong,' it helps others to do the same. --Gloria Steinem” front and center, and this is something she lives.
I’ve sworn to pass on the favor and kindness she paid me. And I’ve started speaking up. I have started volunteering my experience and knowledge to other parents struggling to find an appropriate education for their kids.
Over time, I’ve figured out there’s a bit of a code to listen for from other parents. Some of it is easy – a parent venting about low expectations in the school or how boring and easy the new math curriculum is. Many parents, however, are conditioned to not say even that much.
These parents might be spotted at the library three times in one week, or at the free planetarium show and the biology department’s open house in the same weekend. I figure that if I run into the same people over and over, we probably have something in common.
Over the last several years, I've gathered a significant network of parents who support each other, share information, and celebrate each victory and console each other through each defeat.
More tomorrow on how I actually open these conversations.