The whole story kind of starts with 3rd grade when Matt, who had always been adored by his teachers in previous years, was completely victimized by this horrible witch of a teacher who HATED him. Matt couldn't do anything right for the witch. She bitched so much about the way he sat in his chair that Matt, out of confusion and desperation tried sitting on the floor. She bitched and ridiculed him more. If he read ahead in the reading book because he loved to read and enjoyed the book it was the wrong thing to do. If he went an extra mile and did some extra spelling word homework it went ignored. She interpreted every single word out of his mouth and movement he made as defiant. It was horrible. By the time school was half over Matt was clearly in psychological trouble. By the time March rolled around I had Matt in therapy. The therapist tried to talk to the teacher, no impact. In desperation to salvage my child I had to turn against the teacher. I gave Matt carte blanche to be fresh, talk back and defend himself against her in any way he needed to. I told Matt I wanted to be called into the principal's office. I had something to say. I began avoiding the teacher after school, so as not to hear her false accusations, and referring to her as "the bitch". This helped Matt limp through June battered and beaten. He was not the child I had raised for 9 years. He was a mess. Not knowing what to do I decided to have him evaluated at the local children's hospital. I suspected he was depressed and noticed that for the first time ever he was struggling in math when he was genuinely trying very hard. By the time the evaluation was over Matt had gone off to have a fabulous and rewarding experience at sleep away camp, and returned still gun shy but a tiny bit less depressed. Even so the people who evaluated him urged me to put Matt on anti-depressants and also diagnosed him with Asperger's Syndrome.
I nixed the idea of anti-depressants from the start, knowing that his depression, while very real, was situational, and embraced the Asperger diagnosis. I felt like I could now raise up that bundle of papers and make teachers be kind to Matt. Luckily I didn't have much fighting to do. Matt's 4th grade teacher was that awesome teacher who after hearing about the horrible year before, took it upon herself to help him heal. The awesome teacher's enthusiasm for Matt was contagious and before I knew it the rest of the school was all right there behind him rallying for his cause. Matt's 5th grade teacher was just the gentle kind of caring teacher he needed too. It was a fabulous two years. At the end of the two years I felt like my real kid was well on his way back to me. Matt was no longer depressed, just maybe still overly cautious, but he was back on the right track.
During the spring meeting where we discuss the "plan" for the next year I expressed concern to the "team" about the transition to Middle School for Matt. I couldn't fathom how he was going to run to and from 9 different classes a day. Also, I had been in the middle school during a period change once and it was a disaster. The school was functioning at double it's capacity and the halls were bottle necked, noisy, hot and crazy. This is not a recipe for success with a kid who has Asperger's. I wondered if Matt could have the same schedule as a friend so that the friend would be able to distract him from the buzz of the hallways and help him get from room to room. The answer was positive and Matt's 5th grade teacher suggested a name which the middle school counselor noted on her form.
Then in August the middle school schedules arrive and I phoned the friend's mother to discover that Matt and the friend did not have a single class in common. They did not even have a single teacher in common. I run over to the middle school counselor and at first she doesn't even remember this deal, then she tells me (for the first time) that she can't control what schedule the "regular ed" kids get. I'm crushed. Matt and I walk the halls figuring out his future classrooms and on the first day of school I drop him off like everything is going to be fine. I have my doubts, but am silently hoping. At the end of the first day Matt hops in the car and I ask how it went. He seems happy and he tells me that he really liked his teachers. He thinks they are nice. I don't want to plant a bad thought in his mind so I say nothing.
When I woke Matt up for the second day of school he cried and begged me not to make him go back there. He tells me he can't take all the class changing and the bells and the crowds. I tell him he has to give it a few days, he'll get used to it. He goes. He isn't happy. He cries again on the third morning and I make him go again. I call the school in a panic knowing that Matt does not manipulate and see that this is not going to get better by ignoring it. We have an emergency meeting. The school has nothing to offer except putting Matt in the classroom for kids with learning disabilities. I say he doesn't have a learning disability and they tell me that with such a small class the teacher can individuate. I know they are lying and was feeling pressured so I tell them I will think it through over the weekend and call before Monday with my answer. Matt cries all weekend. He doesn't want to leave his room and I hear him crying in the middle of night. I call Sunday and leave voice mails for the assistant principal and the the counselor that I do not want Matt in the learning disabled class. I want another meeting. They find him Monday morning and give him the new schedule anyway. Matt goes to the special class or two days and then the kids have off for the Jewish Holidays. Matt cries the whole time, he can barely eat and he looks horrible. I think he might be having an 11 year old's nervous breakdown and I can not put him through that. I had just gotten my baby back and I wasn't going to allow him to be crushed again. So I called the school and asked if there was anything else they had to offer. They said they did not. I bring Matt in to see the social worker and see the terror in his eyes. He is petrified of being caught in the hallway during a class change. The social worker makes him cry. She doesn't know how to talk to him. I said I could not send my kid back into that environment because as his mother his emotional health was my priority. So I stopped sending him to school. Matt had attended 6 days of sixth grade.
On the last day he had gone to school he had brought all his important text books home with him, so each morning after I dropped Evan off at 2nd grade and Josh off at preschool I'd come home and hit the books with Matt. I hadn't planned on home schooling him, didn't really know where I was going with it, and the husband was vehemently opposed to home schooling. I didn't know what else to do. All the private schools are full in September. Matt didn't really fit in with the jock-type prep schools around here or the schools for kids with learning disabilities. There was one school which seemed to fit the bill, but it only went to 5th grade. Eventually the husband found a lawyer who said I had to stop teaching Matt because our argument was that the school was the party responsible for teaching him. For a while the school sent a tutor to the house. She was weird and talked to Matt like she was talking to a whole room full of kids, even going as far as standing and posturing in front of an imaginary black board. She quit after a couple of months. I think it was because Matt wasn't ever happy to see her.
After that teacher quit no one ever called to set anything else up and Matt just hung out with me. I'd take him with me on errands and we would have a blast together. There were so many times that I would be laughing so hard at something Matt said that I had to pull off the road because I couldn't see. I felt guilty enjoying his company so much. Having Matt around all day was fun for me. Not knowing what we were going to do about his education was stressful. But he was continuing to emerge from his depression and I didn't want to do anything to jeopardize this process. I watched him blossom that year. Without the stress of school on his shoulders Matt was able to complete the circle and by the time spring rolled around he had turned into this confident happy young man. I liked what was happening with Matt. It was worth the strain of not knowing what the future held and the guilt of not teaching him myself.
The summer following Matt's year off from school our lawyer met an educational consultant who had worked wonders for another kid he knew who had similar issues to Matt's. With this guy's help Matt transitioned into 7th grade (after we refused to hold him over and he had to take the IQ test that the less than cooperative principal required him to do) slowly, starting at only 3 classes a day and working his way up to 7 of the 9 periods. (Matt didn't take gym or a foreign language) He went 7 periods for all of 8th grade (same deal with gym and language) and this year Matt is going for a full day at high school.
And that is the story of how Matt got to take 6th grade off from school.
