Tuesday, September 11, 2018

advocacy

You are assigned the role 'advocate' the moment you have a child. Suddenly you are bombarded with choices you must make in the name of this tiny human stranger. Choices over topics you previously most likely have no knowledge of.

"We are here to give Greyson his HepB vaccine", the nurse says with a knock at my hospital door. I don't even know what that is or how you get it- but "Ok...come on in." Another knock- "We need to do Greyson's heel prick test. Just a quick blood draw."I felt so ill prepared. "OK....what is this test for? Will it hurt him?"

To circumsize or not. Vaccinate or delay. Is he getting enough breast milk? Should he be sleeping longer than 2 hours at a stretch? Is it bad to take him out in public? I don't want him getting sick. I didn't know the answers to any of the things, and the advice I got from all over contradicted itself.

There are so many decisions involved in raising a child, and the older they get, the more decisions you must make. And just when I thought I had this parenting gig figured out, Greyson stopped developing at the same rate as kids his own age. This took a need for advocacy up to an entirely new level. My level of knowledge on childhood development and speech delays was 0.0. And suddenly I realized that if I needed to properly advocate for my son, I needed to be an expert on ALL of the things.  Big complicated things I knew nothing about. Things people go to school for years and years to become an expert on. I wanted some PhD equivalent on autism and communication and behavior child development overnight.

And then school started. And I wanted to become an instant expert on Evidence Based Practices (even though I didn't even know there was such a thing at the time), and teaching, and Speech Therapy, and Legal Matters associated with Special Education, and Disability Law and more. At first I just learned on the job as I went along. I assumed that people in their role wanted what was best for my child, and knew better than me so I let them guide me.

I still believe that most people in schools have the best interest of students in mind. The type of person I am must believe that. Luckily people don't have to work too hard to prove who they are, one way or the other. Maya Angelou said, "When someone shows you who you are, believe them." 

But too many times I have encountered situations where resources or personnel needs or classroom needs or a lack of knowledge, or an excess of ego or the need to stay in line with the culture came before the needs of my child. I realized there was a vast difference in understanding of autism and evidence based practises from teacher to teacher in each autism classrooms. I realized that my husband and I were the only people with guaranteed pure intentions wanting nothing other than what our boys need to succeed, based on things the law provides. However, we did not have the knowledge and facts we needed to advocate, which was a problem. How did we know what to ask for, when we didn't even know what the options were, and we also didn't know what our son even needed? How did we know if something was wrong, and more importantly, how did we explain it beyond- My guts says this NO GOOD.

Most parents I've met who I consider incredible advocates, didn't learn about laws, best practice, the Individuals with Disabilities Act, available related service and all facets of their child's disability, as well as all things school culture related until they HAD to. Because something wasn't right- but they weren't sure how to articulate why it wasn't right. That's how I found myself learning about all of those things and more- when Grey was in First Grade. That is when I started reading, researching, and interviewing experts constantly. Even today, as Grey is now a 4th grader, rarely does a day go by when I don't research or read or think about this stuff. (I don't recommend that, but that's how much this is in my blood).  After time, and research, and attending Board and budget meetings, I realized that many of the issues I saw in my school, were actually created by the District- they were systemic. After many meetings and attempts at fixes from bottom to top, I realized my advocacy had to be at the District level. I get ignored and/or patronized or disagreed with A LOT. But I keep at it, constantly reminding myself- Intentions don't come truer than mine. All I want is what is best for all children. My inner voice repeats, You are onto something. Something that isn't supposed to be noticed or talked about. And if it was easy, someone would have fixed this decades ago. 

Recently an outside review was done on my District. You can read it HERE. And the data showed that the things I have been talking about for years was the truth. And it was validating and heartbreaking to read. My husband and I attended a School District Board meeting to hear the Special Education Department summarize the review. When the summary was over, (almost FOUR hours after the meeting started,)  I felt like someone had replaced my stomach with a bowling ball. I thought certainly the summary would share- "We now realize XYZ, which is clearly unacceptable. We need to do better. This is how we will come up with a plan. It won't happen overnight, but it WILL happen." Instead it focused a lot on what they were doing right. Anyone who knows me knows I'm a optimist. I also love to celebrate things going right. But right now, with significant Civil Rights being violated, is NOT a time to celebrate. It's a time for accountability. A time to rebuild. A time for honesty. A time for reflection. It's not a time to celebrate. I felt like they were at a party and I was at a funeral. 

So my husband and I began crafting a message, no more than 3 minutes per the rules, to share at the next meeting. We read and researched and wrote and rewrote. And then we showed up. Sometimes all you need to do to change the world is show up. A bunch.


Right before the meeting started. Date night, at a Board meeting.



I am so proud of Michael. Imagine how much faster the world would change if these seats were filled with parents who want the same thing. To watch it, click HERE and fast forward to 1 hour, 8 minutes in. 




And here are my words. I would be honored if you would watch. My new favorite words are Inclusion starts with me. Ask yourself, how can I use my voice and my circumstances and my environment to fight for inclusion of every form? Inclusion matters, for all kinds of kids. Kids like Parker who have autism. Kids like Coco who don't. When everyone is invited, everyone wins. This is our friend- she goes to therapy with Parker one day a week. She is teaching Parker so much, and Parker is teaching Coco so much too. 






Inclusion also matters for people like Guy. An amazing 12 year old with more wisdom than most adults. 

Guy uses a speaking device like Greyson. And he made my whole day with this message. It gives me fuel to keep up the fight. But I'm looking for a few good women and men to join me. Advocacy seeks us out, in situations we may originally know nothing about. But our gut feels an ache of needed change. That's the sign that advocacy is choosing us. Will you answer its call?

Thursday, September 6, 2018

end of summering

Going

Going

Gone...

We soaked up Summer right until the very last drop. All these memories will go into a box in my mind and wrapped with a bow labeled SUMMER 2018. One day I will revisit them, take them out one by one and examine them. I will remember the feeling of sun burn and the smell of chlorine, and the taste of sunshine, and marvel at how little they looked in the Summer of 2018 and wonder, where has the time gone?

One day when it is cold here and my car shows freezing temps and it is too darn early in the morning, I will go back to this day. To this water. To this feeling.














Over the long Labor Day weekend, we went on a boat with friends. The night before I told Greyson "We ride on boat" with his communication device. "NO BOAT! GREYSON STAY HOME", Grey yelled in response. "I stay at home", I say, correcting his pronoun like a good nagging Mom. "But no- you can't. You will like it." I tell him, because I know his soul better than my own, and I knew this ride would be amazing.


I scoured the internet to find pictures of boats similar to the one we would be riding. Greyson stared at them intently. He started to warm up, while Parker practically sang over and over, "I RIDE BOAT!" smiling the whole time. Finally after examining several different pictures, Greyson warmed to the idea. "Ride boat, no swim Ocean" he conceded. "No swim Ocean!" I agreed, like I agreed that it was the most horrible idea ever, mostly because we were actually going to be on a lake, but either way- I wasn't going to make him. Knowing full well he would on his own. But sometimes we just need someone to feel our pain, meet us where we are at, and to agree.




My crew, there to celebrate the long weekend, and my friend Heather's birthday.

Oh my friend, I am smiling as I tell you, I played like a kid all damn day. I jumped off the boat into the water with Grey- because he loved it and I wanted to love it with him. I was scared because it was high up and I did it anyway. Sometimes he pushes me out of my comfort zone and makes me a better human.



I just realized your buns are hanging out here, Andrea. I'm sorry. But since they are nice buns, I will leave this right here. 




He did this all on his own. The boys were all playing- balancing and knocking each other off of the paddle board. Grey swam out and hung out with them for awhile. My face still hurts from smiling.

I love Summer me and boy do I miss her already. She's not nearly this uptight and all business. When I grow up, I will figure out how to keep Summer me in my mind all year long. Until then I will just keep trying. I will make room to play. 


So many times we grieve the end of the story. The carved stone. The things we long for that are no longer available for us.  Sometimes my mind gets stuck in  - this is how things are and this is how I will always feel. We forget as each new end comes along, that this may also be a beginning. We forget that things change all the time, and so does how we feel. It's a scary, beautiful thing. Things will change- that sucks, and thank goodness. And all we can do is work hard at letting go, moving on and keeping our eyes hopeful for the next good thing. 


Happy end of Summering- 
so much love,

Chrissy