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Dear Betsy DeVos

9 Feb

Hi Betsy!

Can I call you Betsy? I’m calling you Betsy – because we’re going to really get to know each other now that you’re Education Secretary.

Who am I? I’m Phoebe, I’m a mom of four living near Seattle. All four of my kids have gone to or are currently in public schools. Me? I went to both private and public schools. My husband went to both plus was homeschooled. My grandmother, mother, brother, best friends…all teachers.

Why am I writing to you? Well, because my youngest child, Maura, is in special education and you seem like you’re not that sure how special education runs in public schools in the U.S.

Me? I know a lot. And as I’m a friendly, open, and helpful kind of gal, I thought I’d help you out.

We’re all watching you, you see. All of us parents with kids in special education. You caught our eye when you were all “Oh, IDEA? Sorry, I was confused.” You may have heard a resounding thunk sound after those words came out of your mouth – that was the sound of thousands of parents heads hitting their desks. A collective head thunk.

 

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Me (left) Maura (right) and our surprised faces

 

Anyway, I digress.

My daughter Maura is a special ed student in a public school system. She always has been as long as we’ve lived in the states (we lived in Ireland for 2 1/2 years, and there she went to a national school that was partially funded by the government, partially funded by donations.)

Let me restate – Maura has always gone to a public school in the U.S.

“But why Phoebe?” you may ask yourself. “Why not find a private school to meet her needs?”

“Because Betsy,” I would say if we were meeting at a Starbuck’s, “there are no private schools designed for my daughter.”

Surprised? Well, buckle up Betsy, because having a child with special needs is FULL of surprises.

See, Maura has a moderate intellectual disability (aka ID). When tested, Maura falls behind in every category possible. At 13, she’s at the academic level of a 3 year old. She has issues with concepts of time, safety, pronouns, why her tablet needs to be plugged in for a while to charge. She has fine motor skill issues so has trouble writing, zipping, buttoning. She needs help with hygiene and needs constant supervision. She also loves Coldplay, Doctor Who, My Little Pony, and books (even though she doesn’t read.)

She’s just a bundle of personality and issues, and despite all the testing, we don’t have a diagnosis for whatever she has. (No, it’s not autism.) (Yes, we’ve tested for autism.) (Seriously, there’s more to special needs than autism.) (Yes, we’ve done genetic testing as well.)

Now, imagine a child like Maura in a regular 7th/8th grade classroom. Where everyone else is reading “Lord of the Flies” and Maura’s flipping through a My Little Pony book. Or when everyone else is learning the fundamentals of algebra, and she’s still learning how to count to 30 properly. Imagine her in a science class where she doesn’t realize that you shouldn’t drink the blue liquid.

Imagine how a private school would handle her. Or a charter school that’s design for students to excel in STEM.

You have to imagine it because those schools don’t take kids like Maura.

“Oh surely you can find…” you might start.

“No Betsy. I can’t.” I will state.

“But if you had school of choice-” you may say.

“Not even then Betsy.” I will reply.

See, we lived in Michigan for a while, near Ann Arbor. Our intermediate school district had school of choice. But there were factors that made schools not a choice. Like student body sizes. If the neighboring school was “full”, then it was taken off the school of choice list. Which makes sense. But also, with a child like my daughter Maura, to leave the school district required the special ed director signing off on it. And the SpEd director wouldn’t do that. Because then the district would lose all those sweet extra dollars that came with a student like my daughter. Those sweet extra dollars that didn’t necessarily have to be spent on my daughter.

“But you had school of choice! You could have moved her to a better school!” you may say.

“Oh Betsy…Betsy Betsy Betsy…it’s not that easy.” I reply.

Trust me, I watched as other parents tried to move. The thing is, your “choice” ends up being “the devil you know” vs. “the devil you don’t”. We had amazing teachers and a lousy SpEd director.

This is where IDEA helped us. IDEA and FAPE (Free Appropriate Public Education). Those federal laws and protections you found “confusing” were our safety net. They made things happen, stuff got done. See, it’s like you’re captured by pirates and you invoke the right to parlay, like Elizabeth Swan did in “Pirates of the Caribbean”. We shouted “IDEA! FAPE!” and invoked our right to get a lawyer and things happened.

IDEA and FAPE are kind of Special Ed 101, along with IEP (Individualized Education Plan). That you failed those questions? Well it did not inspire confidence in any of us.

But we’re no longer in Michigan. We’re in the Seattle area – which still doesn’t have any private/charter schools for the likes of my daughter. But the public school system we’re in? Oh, it’s amazing! Seriously. Ah-maz-ing. See, they have proper funding, and use those funds for – wait for it – giving my daughter and students like her the best education possible.

I know, right?

Maura’s in a special program within the public school, one geared specifically for kids with moderate ID. She’s in a class of her peers. She learns the things she needs so she can reach her full potential. But she is also included in the actual school she’s at, including going to camp with the entire 6th grade class. Overnight camp. For four days. Amazing.

Have you ever been in a classroom full of students with disabilities Betsy? It’s different than a regular classroom. There’s less students, but more adults. Maura’s classroom can easily have six kids and five adults in there at one time. It also has things like swings for sensory-filling needs and a place to hide out when a student needs to chill. There’s PECS cards everyone (PECS is Picture Exchange Communication System, look it up). And its full of kids you may have never interacted with.

It’s okay, most people don’t get the chance to meet children with various disabilities. I hadn’t, not until we moved to Ireland and I walked into a school for students with moderate disabilities.

You know what? You should come visit Maura’s school. Meet Maura, her classmates, her teachers, the extra staff, all the staff. Maura’s school isn’t just great about special education. It’s a school with a larger immigrant population as well, and the most dedicated staff you’ll ever find. And diverse! Like, true diversity.

Yes, you should just come visit. You could probably cover the flight and hotel since, you know, you’re kinda a billionaire. But I’ll treat you to a Starbuck’s.

Meanwhile, I’ll keep in touch on Twitter. Because this is just the start of our working relationship Betsy.

P.S. – My sister called. She told me to tell you she’s keeping an eye on you as well, and not to screw things up for her niece.

 

 

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Apparently Maura had shopping plans

8 Feb

I get interesting emails from Maura’s teacher. Things like “She’s bringing home food, check the backpack!”and “So Maura brought in a white cell phone that obviously doesn’t belong to her” and “Hey, so Maura brought in some sort of wine glass and a curtain? Just so you’re aware, it’s in her backpack, wrapped up safely.”

Oh yes, I’m always eager to open up an email from Maura’s teacher because the possibilities are endless.

BTW, the cell phone was her brother’s, and it wasn’t a curtain but the fancy tablecloth – because Maura’s always prepped for a fancy dinner.

Today, an email pops up from Maura’s teacher.

Hi Phoebe, 

Maura brought a Dooney and Bourke bag with about $120 in cash in it to school today.  I hid the bag in my filing cabinet.  Do you have time to pick it up sometime today?  

Well, don’t we look all fancy pants?

This is the purse in question –

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A couple of weeks ago, our local Goodwill moved into a new location, and to celebrate, pulled out all this high end stuff. My friend spotted this bag and was all “OMG Phoebe, you must own this purse!” And so it came home with me. Maura spotted it and instantly went “Ooooo….”

Last night, she ventured into my room, and came out with the bag. I was all “You can’t steal my purses!” and her response was a non-verbal “You can’t stop me!”

Now, I’m not big on different types of purses, but I realized after doing a Google search why the teachers were all “OMG, she has THIS purse here” – because it’s like a $200 purse.

What can I say, Maura has good taste.

I went up to the school to retrieve the items. Maura’s teacher retrieved the purse, which Maura instantly latched on to.

I looked at her. “Maura, you know you’re not supposed to take Mom’s purses.”

Maura just ignored me.

“I’ll make you a deal.” I said to her. “You can keep the bag for the rest of the school day, but you have to give me the money.”

Maura sighed loudly in true teenager fashion and said “Fine.” before reaching in and giving me a wad of $20s.

She probably had a shopping trip planned for that money. Meanwhile, I need to figure out who’s missing cash in the house.

“Don’t you forget about me…”

25 Jan

I drove my 16 yr old to school this morning. I don’t usually drive her as we’re close enough for walking, but sometimes she asks and I’ll grab my keys and we get in the car. It’s a few extra minutes with the rapidly-approaching-college age daughter. I’ll take what I can get.

As we drove to the high school, Simple Mind’s “Don’t You Forget About Me” came on, and I was allowed a surreal moment where I was driving to a high school with my high schooler singing a song I sang when I was in high school.

Yeah, it’s one of those weird moments in life. We both sang along to the very last “la la la la” and then she went off into her school.

I thought about the movie for a bit as I drove home via Starbuck’s – how it was five teens from different backgrounds, who end up finding their common ground and resisting being molded into compliant students. They refused to let the authoritarian break their spirits. Instead, they came together and realized they were more alike than not. They resisted and they found themselves in doing so.
 
And I wonder now, looking around at everyone – I was the teenager John Hughes was making this film for. My friends were those teens as well. We’re all adults now, skipping into middle age, and I wonder – when did we all give up and become so compliant? When did we realize it was easier to just blend? Is it because it’s just easier and we’re all tired?
 
I’m not saying rebelling and rejecting everything is cool. Bills still need to be paid, children fed, laundry washed. It’s more the little things, the things we feel make us “bad parents” or “trying to hard”.
Case in point – my hair.
I still have the ends colored. The teal has faded to more of a green. I get lots of compliments from women in their 20’s about my hair. But women closer to my age, when they do compliment it, do so almost wistfully, and add “But I could never do that.”
Why not? Well, I know why not. Because somehow, you’re credibility falters when you’re a 44 year old suburban mom with blue hair – not among those who matter, but those pre-disposed to judge you. It’s like we’ve all hit Labor Day and put away our white shoes.
I’m sure there are some who take it too far. The ones who put their dreams before their children’s needs. The ones who burn bridges and barns and everything else as they go along. I’m not saying be that.
But maybe…have you forgotten to be yourself? That person who loved bright lipstick, who loved to dance, who dreamed big? The one who saw something wrong and went “Hey, that’s wrong!”? Were you ever that person? Remember when growing up to be just like your parents seemed like the most tragic thing ever, and now you’re living in a house with all beige walls thinking that you’re too old for some things?
Is the teenager you once were saying “Don’t you forget about me?”
Would that teen recognize you now?
Will you walk on by all those things you feel you can’t do anymore?
…or will they call your name?

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