September 9, 2012
Dear
Person Concerned with Education:
My name is Kathy King and I am the
mother of a special needs child in Baltimore City. Elinore is four years old
and recently diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder. She is enrolled in the
Bright and Ready program run by Baltimore City Public School at the Enoch Pratt
Free Library on Reisterstown Road. This is the program recommended by the IEP
team at our meeting in July of 2012.
On the first day, I was willing to
overlook some of the problems we encountered, due to the program being brand
new. The transportation provided by
the city did not show up, and we
scrambled for a ride so as not to miss that all important first day. Upon
arriving, I discovered that Elinore is the only
student enrolled. Aside from the fact that her IEP specifies peer
interaction, I was excited to think of all the one-on-one attention my child
would receive. Her program meets two days a week, Mondays and Thursdays, for
two and a half hours. I wondered between the IEP meeting and the first day of
school how such a short program would prepare my student for Kindergarten. At
the school, I learned that Bright and Ready is a three year old program. I felt like my child had been failed a grade before she even began her school career. Out of that
amount of time, Elinore is to attend two half hour sessions at the library for
story time. She did enjoy the stories with movement and music. I began having
doubts about the academic nature of the program. The program takes place in the
meeting room in the library, and that first day, I mentally excused the lack of supplies; none of the following
were available for my four year old: pencils, paper, crayons, markers, play
dough, paint, blocks, dress-up, alphabet posters. The room provided one child
sized table with four chairs, and one carpet. There was nothing else.
On the second day, I expected a
little more organization and preschool-like surroundings. The teacher assured
me since Elinore was the only student in the class, she would administer some
assessments and tailor a program specifically for Elinore, at least until more
students arrived. This sounded promising. I observed while a few assessments
were administered with some breaks thrown in when Elinore had difficulty
concentrating, and checked on Hannah, my eighth-grade home-schooler working
independently in the library. Elinore's teacher also read a book about
dinosaurs at school, and discussed school behavior such as raising her hand,
being polite, taking turns, and other social amenities that Elinore may have
had trouble applying in her class of one. Elinore was expected to raise her hand to talk to the teacher, to ask for a break,
and to use the potty. Elinore has both expressive and receptive language delays
and cannot verbalize her need for a break or to use the potty, and these issues
are addressed in her IEP. The teacher also wanted Elinore to sit properly
in her chair and tried to teach her how to move it. At lunch, I noted that it
was a deli meat sandwich with fruit cup and drink choice, the same as on the
first day. I wondered if her entire school lunch experience would consist of
lunch meat sandwiches. The cafeteria sent ten lunches for my one student, so my
older daughter and I were invited to partake. After lunch, I played hide and
seek with Elinore at her request, and the teacher's assistant borrowed some
toys from the library upstairs while the teacher was working on her laptop.
Elinore had 50 minutes of "free
time" and started running in circles, a repetitive motion activity she
engages in for sensory input. Elinore was so distraught by the lack of
structure, schedule, and social behaviors with no practical application, that
in the taxi on the way home she started yanking
her own hair out, a behavior we have never seen. She also engaged in spitting and biting herself, two more
new behaviors. Her sister and I had to physically restrain her.
I was relieved that Monday was Labor
Day with no school, and asked that
Elinore's grandmother attend school with her on Thursday. I wanted
someone else to see what I was seeing. My apprehension was slightly relieved on
Thursday when the teacher greeted us with a schedule. The teacher also
mentioned a few activities such as calendar time, and learning to carry a tray
that were impossible to complete without the calendar and the tray. Before I
went upstairs, I voiced some of my concerns to the teacher. How long before
Elinore's IEP supports would be in
place? Elinore does not do well with chairs, as we had seen on day two, and a
fidget cushion, toys, and weighted items were specified in her IEP. When would
her speech therapy start? The teacher had
no idea Elinore was to receive speech therapy, nor how to access this
service, or even a phone number to access someone who might know. Perhaps her
zone school? I pointed out on Elinore's IEP that this option was declined as
less than optimal, and it was my understanding at the IEP meeting that she
would receive this in her school setting. I asked to see the outcome goals of
the program. What was my daughter expected to learn by the end of the year? She
assured me that there would be quarterly assessments, but did not have anything
tangible to show me in terms of a lesson
plan or annual goals. The end of Thursday marked the end of the first half
of her first month in school, and I felt like we had wasted valuable time.
On
Thursday, Elinore's grandmother, who has a degree in special education, and
many years of experience with IEP meetings for her own children, made a page
and a half of notes which she shared with me. Some were positive, some were
neutral, and some were concerning. The main issue was one of the teachers
commenting that Elinore did better
without her mother in the room. At the July IEP meeting, we were assured
that a parent was not only welcome, but encouraged
to attend. It seemed, perhaps, that the teacher was not fully aware of the
goals of the program, one of which was encouraging parent involvement in the
learning process. Also, Elinore had been sitting on the carpet for two hours with
no movement breaks. We had planned
to lunch with Elinore, as we had been made to feel welcome the previous week,
but Elinore was told to pretend we weren't there, and eat lunch at her little
table, so Grandma, Hannah and I went upstairs. When Hannah opened the peaches,
she found mold! I raced downstairs
to stop Elinore from eating her lunch and the teacher assured me the food could
not be moldy. I had to prove it by showing her. Hannah and her grandma both
suffered from food poisoning that
night, I presume from the sandwich Elinore did not eat. I rejoined Elinore and
her grandma a little before the end of the school day to see if I was a
distraction, but she merely acknowledged me with a glance and continued
listening to the teacher's aide read a story while the teacher worked on her
laptop. When instructional time was over, the teacher had Elinore demonstrate
her new skill of using six steps to close a door.
Once home, I made what seemed like dozens of phone calls to address the
issues of no supplies, moldy school lunch, speech therapy, the lack of IEP
supports, and the self destructive behaviors that appeared to be directly
linked to her school experience. She had just finished an hour and a half, once-a-week,
six week long program at Kennedy Krieger's Fairmount school to prepare her for
a classroom setting, so starting school was not the issue. We are a
homeschooling family, and none of our five children were ever enrolled in
public school. The reason we enrolled Elinore was because her developmental
pediatrician recommended a school setting to help her learn social skills and
to receive speech therapy. Since there are no other students enrolled in her
class, and her speech therapy has been moved to her zone school, it seems that
there is no reason for Elinore to attend this program. I am very concerned that
virtually none of Elinore's IEP accommodations have been addressed (Elinore
does receive preferential seating by the teacher).
I am appalled at the deficits this
program contains, not just at start up, where basic supplies should have been
available, but that continue two weeks after school has started. The special
needs students of Baltimore City deserve better than empty classrooms and moldy
lunches.
I am thinking I will polish the letter and send it to Mrs. Obama, my Senators, my Representatives, the Governor, Mayor, every pertinent person on the school board and each IEP team member. Only, the letter will be at least twice this long because we have since had two more IEP meetings, and more adventures.
