Life, Autism, Disability, and More

Tag Archives: ARD

dominoesThe amorphous they out there often say that “you get what you pay for.” Sadly, they’re wrong. You often wind up losing out on the deal, even when it’s free.

I went for some parent training last week, and while I hate to speak ill of anyone who is trying to do good, sometimes you just gotta call people out when they’re straight out wrong, misinformed, or just unpleasant to deal with.

I am not going to name names in this blog. That’s not my point. My point is that you, as a parent, must be careful of what you listen to and what you believe. Do your own research. Talk to more than one person. And be warned – this is a loooooong blog.

A few things went on during this training session that made me want to share it, and made me want to make other parents aware that they need to go into everything with an open mind and a salt shaker. (Get it? Be ready with that grain of salt? Ah, I’m so funny.)

Anyway, here’s what went down.

The person running the training session began by telling stories of all her years working in and with school districts. All schools “cut and paste,” she said, so make sure that you don’t get someone else’s goals because the schools will make them all the same if they can.

She also made it clear that while she was, of course, a wonderful person and made sure that each and every child got what he/she needed, she personally would sometimes purposely write half-assed IEP goals simply to make her life easier. And she only did it to parents who didn’t know better, wouldn’t watch carefully, or wouldn’t judge too harshly. So, she told us, make sure that you know better because then no one will do it to you. Because, she said, “It’s thunder dome when it comes to your kids unless you have stuff written in their IEPs.”

Okay, to some extent, that may be true. I know that we have let some things slide because we knew the teachers, and we knew that if something wasn’t in the IEP, Simon would still get it. But we also made damn sure other things were in because we knew that, just in case, we needed it in writing. And we always knew that we could call an ARD to make changes if anything did happen to shift.

She also talked about getting kids ready for transitions and how you had to start transition planning at 12. If you hadn’t done that, then the school district was failing you. Since Simon is now 13, and we haven’t started transition planning, I guess that included us?

And speaking of jobs, she said that there was a “98% chance that you’ll never had paid employment if you haven’t by the time you graduate from school.” I don’t know where she got that number from because a study done in 2013 and reported on in the Journal of the American Academy of Child & Adolescent Psychiatry reported that “just over half (53.4 percent) of the young adults on the autism spectrum they surveyed had ever worked for pay outside the home within the first eight years after leaving high school. Only about one in five (20.9 percent) young adults with ASDs worked full-time at a current or most-recent job.” http://drexel.edu/now/archive/2013/September/Autism-Spectrum-Young-Adult-Transition-Studies/#sthash.C7LIqIcw.dpuf I’m not sure how that translates to a 98% chance of never having a job…but, hey, she’s the “expert.”

She pointed out the importance of having your child hold down a job because “you don’t want your kids playing with cars and trucks when they’re 21.” Except, ummm, maybe you do? I mean, I have no idea what Simon’s future holds, but if he’s unable to be employed, and if he’s happy and content doing so, what’s wrong with it? How many neurotypical “kids” that age have train sets or collect matchbox cars? How many “kids” that age are still into superheroes? I’m not sure that we want to denigrate what someone does. If they’re happy and able to do that, why make it a bad thing?

Obviously, I was already having some doubts that this was how I wanted to start my day.

She went on to tell us things, like how administration was overpaid; she advised that we look up the salaries of the directors of special ed programs so that we could be “outraged” by their pay. Think of how many teachers they could hire for that! And, she told us, there’s no reason to have curriculum coordinators. Another waste of money – money that could go to our children! They could hire three teachers for the cost of one curriculum coordinator. Three teachers for our children. Were we outraged yet?

By now, I wasn’t sure how fond of her I was. To be honest, I had seen her before, and I had gotten the impression that she wasn’t quite what she made herself out to be (a wonderful crusader), but after hearing her trash talking school districts, I wasn’t sure.

Don’t get me wrong; I think that school districts are often in the wrong. I’ve attended enough conferences and heard enough horror stories to know that school districts prefer to do what’s cheap as opposed to what’s right. In fact, about nine years ago, we had gotten a lawyer and gone after our son’s school district. But once the district got in a new head of special programs, everything suddenly got better, and it’s been better ever since. (I won’t lie and say that I haven’t heard complaints – but I haven’t heard any complaints that were borne out…they all appeared to be more of a difference of opinion or need.)

That all said, I was not really enjoying my morning.

Then it got better. And by better, I mean worse.

She handed out data.

After telling us, “I can’t do math, but let me explain these statistics to you…”

Well, I’m not good with math either, but I do understand how data works (mostly).

What she gave us was data on the STAAR Alt tests. We were told that we should be upset because, when looking at the data, regardless of grade level, it seemed that there were more boys, and more Hispanic boys, taking the alternate version of the test.

It’s all about how the schools are holding back the minorities, she told us. How the schools try to avoid working with boys. It’s nothing to do with, well, how numbers work out.

After reviewing what she said, I looked at the numbers on the sheet.

The page I had was the Summary Report for Grade 8 for the STAAR Alt 2.

The numbers:
All students who took it: 4,038
Male: 2,628
Female: 1,410

Hispanic: 2,028
American Indian/Alaska Native: 19
Asian: 127
Black or African American: 680
Native Hawaiian or Other Pacific Islander: 8
White: 1,099
Two or More Races: 58
No Information Provided: 19

Economically Disadvantaged:
Yes: 2,710
No: 1,314
No Info: 14

Migrant:
Yes: 24
No: 4,000
No Info: 14

Limited English Proficiency:
LEP: 436
Non-LEP: 3,587
No Info: 15

Bilingual:
Participant: 5
Non-Participant: 4,017
No Info: 16

ESL:
Participant: 170
Non-Participant: 3,853
No Info: 15

Then I did some research. Just Google. While sitting there. I didn’t have time to prepare. I didn’t get to do too much of it.

But what I turned up told me this: as of 2014, there were 5 million students in public school in Texas. http://www.texastribune.org/2014/04/01/report-texas-public-schools-enrollment-soars/ Assuming that the percentage of special ep students hasn’t changed too much, then it would remain at about 8%, meaning that approximately 440,000 students in special education. http://www.dallasnews.com/incoming/20120705-texas-has-lowest-percentage-of-special-education-students-reasons-are-a-mystery.ece That means that about 1% – the number of students that would be allowed to take the STAAR Alt 2 would be about 4,000 students. Sounds right so far.

Now let’s take that further.

As of 2013, Hispanic students made up 51% of the population of students in Texas public education. http://www.dallasnews.com/news/education/headlines/20130504-hispanics-now-largest-ethnic-group-in-texas-public-schools.ece Taking that information further, we can do basic math. Fifty-one percent of 4,038 student is 2,059 students.

Hmmm. So the percentage is just slightly off. In other words, statistically, it would make sense for that to work out that way.

I tried to point that out to the presenter. I tried to say that perhaps the numbers make sense.

After all, when it comes to certain issues, such as autism, you have approximately a 4 to 1 (25%) odds that it will affect boys instead of girls.

Looking at gender, then, we have a 35% bias towards boys. A bit of a difference, but not a huge one, right?

I tried to point that out, too. To say that the numbers did make sense. That despite what happens if you look at them blindly, there is a bit of a reason why they skew the way they do.

She tried to say I was wrong. Tried to say that the statistics I brought in didn’t matter.

I let her know that my husband worked with statistics all day. I didn’t bother telling her that I had to study stats for two of my graduate degrees. I wanted to let her know that I had a clue, but I didn’t want to sound like I was showing off.

She told me that while my husband might be a “statition” (not actually a word, by the way), maybe he knew better, but she was just saying that it should be looked at. Yes, I agree. It should be looked at with an eye towards the actual science behind the numbers.

I didn’t bother bringing up the other facts that were in the numbers I listed above – that the number of students in ESL, migrant, LEP, and bilingual numbers could be responsible for the slight skewing. If there is a language barrier and a disability, that would make it extra hard for the student and might make the STAAR Alt 2 a more appropriate choice.

Okay, maybe I shouldn’t pick on the poor woman quite this much, but I can’t stand going somewhere and missing out on the facts and the truth. It’s one thing to have a personal bias and a personal belief, but when you present it as fact – as fact that you are an expert on – then you should be able to back it up. You should be able to speak to those facts. You should be able to give that information in a non-biased way.

None of those things happened that morning. I left before the Q&A, having wasted enough of my time getting frustrated, but then we have a lovely set of door prizes: used games. And that I can’t complain about because I got lucky and had first pick of the door prizes. I won a set of dominoes – a gift that Simon will enjoy playing with. So at least something good came of the morning.

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April 6It’s the most wonderful time of the year…no, wait, that’s Christmas.

This was ARD Day!

An ARD is a (normally) yearly meeting that is meant to help determine the IEP for a child with special needs. For those not up on the alphabet soup, ARD is “Admission, Review, and Dismissal,” and it deals with creating, updating, changing, whatever goals and objectives for the year. They happen to bring a child into special programs, keep the child in them, or move the child out of them, whether because the services are no longer needed or because the child is graduating. The IEP is the Individualized Education Plan, which is needed because every child in special education will normally need their own plan in order to make sure they are meeting grade-level (or functional-level) education goals.

Makes sense so far?

Today was our meeting.

I had gotten the call from the speech therapist last week, which I had blogged about, and the meeting itself was this morning.

First – the speech therapist really, really thought that we were gonna agree to her idea of halving the services Simon received. She began all friendly like, touched me on the shoulder (don’t touch me!!!), and mentioned that she “and Mom” had “chatted.” Uh-huh. “But Mom wanted to think about it.” It felt like condescension center in the room. So Mom spoke up and pointed out, “Yeah, and I disagreed with it then, and I disagree with it now, too.”

The conversation (often one-sided: her side) went on for almost an hour. She kept arguing that he needed *less* pull-out speech therapy because “the goal of speech therapy was to get out of speech therapy.” Which is kind of funny because there we were, thinking that the goal of speech therapy was to increase his speech and help him with daily functioning! How silly of us! She argued that measurements were subjective (uh, no, they are objective when you make an objective and then measure it by 7/10 tests as a “mastery” of the objective), and she argued that the fact that he hadn’t progressed in some of his goals as proof that he needed less speech therapy and more “consultation,” i.e. she would talk to the teacher and observe him, but not actually work with him.

She couldn’t provide any evidence or proof that her method of change – giving him less one-on-one instruction and help – would actually helped, nor could she back up her choice except for her “professional opinion” (which she repeated about eighty times in that hour). She cited that Simon was answering questions about videos, and said they were different videos every time. I’d like proof of that. Because he sure doesn’t do that anywhere else. He still says “yes” when someone asks him how his day was. Her response was that it wasn’t a “wh” question. Umm, yeah, because people only ask “wh” questions. “How” should just be dropped from the English language!

Another thing she said that set my nerves on end was when we stated that he did not make requests – he simply will say what he wants “banana” or “crackers.” She said that what he was doing was acceptable “for his disability and his placement.” Woah. So we should just give up on getting him to use sentences because he has autism and is in a self-contained room? Really? Cause if it’s all about disability and placement, lady, then let me tell you what I think about your functional level when it comes to talking to parents…

Sigh.

In the end, we had a bit of a stalemate and agreement: Patrick had pointed out that if having the consults were so important, then why not add them to the already in-place speech therapy? I think, to shut us up, she agreed to provide both the consults and the in-place speech therapy through the first nine week period of the next school year. The best part? That’s more than she wanted to give him. She would have done better to just argue to keep it the same.

Now, we will be going down after those nine weeks. Unless, of course, we call another ARD and argue some more. We’ll see how it goes. She might be right, and going down might help. But I think that going down now is a bad idea, and as I’ve said (and heard) so often – parents are the experts on their child. A woman who sees my son once a week is not an expert on her, regardless of her training. She may be an expert on speech, but that doesn’t mean she knows Simon.

Second – the OT, after hearing the hour-long argument with the speech therapist, said, “You know, I was going to suggest going down to three sessions with him, but I think we’ll just keep it at four.” To be fair, if she had suggested three, we probably would not have argued, but I’m glad that she kept it at four because I do think that will be good for him, at least through the transition to junior high. Maybe when we have our ARD in the fall, we’ll drop that down.

Third – and final – argh! ARD! ARDs are always stressful. And this time, for some reason, we hadn’t been provided with any paperwork ahead of time, which made it worse because we weren’t sure what to expect. In the past, we normally get some paperwork to let us know what they’re going to go over. I really don’t like not getting it. The goals/objectives should be decided by the ARD committee, and when the school keeps the parents in the dark about the drafts, it can make things worse, cause more stress, and, honestly, make it feel like the parents are not a welcome part of the committee.

Now, we’ve been doing ARDs for nine years, and we’re pretty comfortable with the ideas of asking questions, asking for clarification, and disagreeing with what other people say. But for those who are new, here’s my advice: don’t be afraid. And remember that if you don’t ask, you don’t get. Get data if you need it. Get information. Ask questions. Demand responses, if you have to. You’re the expert on your child. You’re the advocate for your child. You’re the one who has to be willing to do what it takes. So, to totally steal someone else’s motto: Just do it!


The phone!   Image by SOMMAI via freedigitalphotos.net

The phone!
Image by SOMMAI via freedigitalphotos.net

I’m not a morning person. Not at all. My ideal time to get out of bed is sometime between 10 and noon. Or maybe a little closer to one. Either way, I don’t like 9 a.m. phone calls. Especially when I have a killer headache, and they’re phone calls that would easily fit onto a Top 10 list of early morning phone calls I don’t want to get.

This particular phone call was from my son’s speech language pathologist.

She immediately launched into an iteration of all the good things Simon had accomplished and how well he was doing.

I know that, right now, you’re probably asking yourself, ‘why is that a bad phone call?’

Because she followed that up by telling me that, since his current teacher is so awesome, she believes he can go from receiving speech services 10 x in 9 weeks to 5 x in 9 weeks. She says that she actually thinks he can go down to receiving no services – just let her consult with the teacher – but she thinks that lowering it instead of removing it will ‘help him transition.’

But wait, I say, finally interrupting her because she hasn’t let me get a word in edgewise. He’s only going to be with his teacher for another two months. We need to consider the future. What he’ll be doing for a year.

Oh, but she knows that her teacher next year will also be excellent because she works with her already, so it’ll be fine.

I tell her, wait, I need to think. We can discuss this at our ARD on Monday morning.

Ah, she says, I may or may not be able to make it on Monday.

Excuse me? I say.

Do you have time to talk now, she says.

No, I tell her, I don’t. (Which is true – I had a 10 a.m. appointment that I needed to get ready for.)

So don’t worry, I say. If you can’t make it, we can reschedule the ARD. It might cause problems or be difficult, but we will definitely want you there.

No, she says, it’s okay. I’ll be available by phone for you if you have any questions.

No, I say. It’s okay. We can reschedule it.

You know, she says, let me check my schedule.

I wait, and she comes back on the line.

I do have an evaluation scheduled for that morning, she says, but I can reschedule it.

Sooooo, I realize, she probably wouldn’t have been available to talk to by phone if she was doing an eval. But, I still gave in a little, and I made sure to mention that we could try to do the speech portion first so she wouldn’t have to stay for the whole meeting.

But a part of me was seething.

She knew she couldn’t make the ARD, but she didn’t call to tell me that.

No, she called to try to get me to agree to everything so she could more easily skip the ARD.

Not. Gonna. Happen.

Not even at 9 a.m. when I’m barely awake.

Not even when I have such a migraine that I can barely read my phone’s screen.

Not even.

[I admit now that I wasn’t taking notes during the phone call, so the ‘she says’ and ‘I say’ are totally summaries of what was actually said…some of the wording may be slightly off, but I stand by the content of the phone call.]