School changes

I will never forget the first IEP (Individualized Education Plan) meeting we had with the school after receiving Micah’s diagnosis. We handed them the documentation from his psychological evaluation. We told them about the referral our pediatrician made with the Autism Clinic at the Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta and promised to make them a copy of any records we received. The tone of the meeting shifted, softened. For the first time since entering that school, my child was no longer considered the “bad kid”. He took on this different label but somehow it seemed to shed light on the behaviors that baffled them for so long. I know that for us, as his parents, life finally started making sense.


We warned Micah’s kindergarten teacher at kindergarten round up. She said, “I’ve been teaching kindergarten for 20 years – there is nothing that I haven’t dealt with”. She was singing a different tune by Back to School Night. “I’ve been teaching school for 20 years and I have NEVER dealt with anything like him.” THANKS! I WILL TAKE THAT AS A HUGE COMPLIMENT!!!! We knew Micah was different but we also knew that he wasn’t this horrible kid the school was making him out to be. The principal would insist that he get out of the car when we pulled up to the curb. She would open the door and boisterously bellow “GOOD MORNING MICAH! COME ON, GET OUT, LET’S MAKE IT A GREAT DAY”. Her intentions were good but she interpreted his refusal to exit the car as an act of defiance. We saw a frightened little boy in the back seat, wearing his winter coat in April with the hood tight around his head who was reeling by the pitch and volume of her voice and the abrupt manner with which she dealt with him. I did not have a stellar kindergarten experience myself so I made my husband tell the principal about the trauma she was causing Micah every morning. I would like to believe that Micah (and one other wonderful little guy with autism who had the same reaction with her) is the reason she no longer handles the car rider line in the morning. 

The school told us that they would need to do their own testing. They could not take the documentation we had received from mental health and medical professionals and make changes to Micah’s IEP based on said documentation. So over the past several months Micah has had a psychological evaluation done by a school psychologist. Tuesday we met with the school and received two pieces of news that threw us into a tailspin.

The school recommended that Micah be referred for a special education program called GNET (Georgia Network for Educational and Therapeutic Supports). I figured this was coming. His teachers have been dangling at the end of their ropes with him. He is either sleeping in class or having a meltdown. This program would place Micah in a classroom setting with 6-8 children, grades K-5th grade. The classroom would have one teacher and one or two parapro teachers. They teach academics in the morning and social skills in the afternoon.

I wish I could say that my first thought was about how great this program would be for him. How he would receive individualized attention. How they would work with him on social skills. No. Not my first reaction. My first reaction – tears. Then anger and frustration, which produced more tears, which made me angry for crying more! My second thought was that of Micah being in a classroom all day with 6-8 other students of all ages who have melt downs and bad behavior. What in the world would he learn from them!?! Apparently, this thought escaped my mouth because I was handed tissue and assured that this was not a placement for juvenile delinquents or children with conduct disorders.

Just as I was settling into the idea of the alternative educational setting and my brain starts to form rational questions, the school psychologist begins to speak. He tells us of how he observed Micah in class and interviewed him. He explains the testing he did and how well Micah scored on the intelligence and academic performance scales. The psychologist then reports that although Micah has been diagnosed in the past on the Autism Spectrum, he feels Micah is best described as a child who is depressed and irritable. [PAUSE…..cock head to one side….wait, what?]

It all happened so fast. The referral for a new “special” school for “kids like him”, the change in diagnosis from ASD to Depression, continued special education eligibility as EBD (Emotionally and Behaviorally Disturbed), call next week to set up a tour of the new school, sign here and here, have a nice afternoon. I left the building confused and defeated but also furious. Furious that I had not taken that damn copy of the Parental Rights this time. What just happened and what does this all mean for my amazing little boy?

All that finally made sense to us had instantly become blurry. Has my child been depressed since the age of two when we first noticed that his differences were not just a phase he was going through? Is depression the reason why he has limited interaction with his family members? Why he pretends my co-workers are not standing in front of him, trying to talk with him? What about his brown diet or the struggles we have putting lotion on his eczema because he cannot stand the way it feels on his skin? Does he struggle to connect emotionally, bang his head or punch himself in the head when he is frustrated because he is depressed?

We continue to believe that Micah’s diagnosis of ASD is the correct diagnosis. What we are not sure of is how much to fight the school’s diagnosis and whether to question the placement in this new school. Of course, the most important thing for us is to ensure Micah gets the most appropriate services and treatment. We just want to make the right decisions for our kiddo. So, lots of special prayers going on in the Bryant house in the coming weeks.