the last time zoe was in a class room was 3 years ago. it was a class at a school designed and made for kids with learning differences. still, she felt different. even her differences were different. she had become so overwhelmed by it all that she hid under her desk- she couldn't deal anymore- it was over.
i've written about it before. low point. being called out of a family meeting, where i was trying to help people make decisions about treatment and life and death. picking her up, finding her there- her little nine- year- old version of life and death.
things changed- we needed a new plan- a plan that apparently didn't involve organized education in any form- a plan that involved a lot of me- me with her- me not in the hospital- me not doing what i'd spent 10 years training to do. it was hard- but it was good- and it was right- and it worked. meaning she began to breath, to relax, and slowly to start to learn with out the distraction and pressure of peers.
today she ventured back to school- a private non-special education international school, for a visiting day for students coming to school next year. this is an amazing community of people from all over the world. a school not afraid to think outside of the box, they are open and willing to try. they are kind and creative, warm and welcoming, and they have pet bunnies and a giant tortoise named steve.
i had lowered my expectations as i promised myself i'd do about everything this year. they were low low. i felt the day would be a success if i wasn't called to come and pick her up- if i didn't find her hiding under any desks- if her acceptance wasn't revoked.
she did it. my phone didn't ring. she was sitting in a chair at the end of the day- the teachers said she did just fine. her 'work' wasn't complete, she asked a million questions, an aid sat beside her. but she sat there, she didn't run or hide, she didn't scare away her teacher, and she was smiling at the end of the day.
this is one day. one isolated day. that is all.
this day means nothing about how her next year will be- it is not a guarantee of anything.
but this day we both could see how much she's grown.
we'll take it and be so so thankful!
i've written about it before. low point. being called out of a family meeting, where i was trying to help people make decisions about treatment and life and death. picking her up, finding her there- her little nine- year- old version of life and death.
things changed- we needed a new plan- a plan that apparently didn't involve organized education in any form- a plan that involved a lot of me- me with her- me not in the hospital- me not doing what i'd spent 10 years training to do. it was hard- but it was good- and it was right- and it worked. meaning she began to breath, to relax, and slowly to start to learn with out the distraction and pressure of peers.
today she ventured back to school- a private non-special education international school, for a visiting day for students coming to school next year. this is an amazing community of people from all over the world. a school not afraid to think outside of the box, they are open and willing to try. they are kind and creative, warm and welcoming, and they have pet bunnies and a giant tortoise named steve.
i had lowered my expectations as i promised myself i'd do about everything this year. they were low low. i felt the day would be a success if i wasn't called to come and pick her up- if i didn't find her hiding under any desks- if her acceptance wasn't revoked.
she did it. my phone didn't ring. she was sitting in a chair at the end of the day- the teachers said she did just fine. her 'work' wasn't complete, she asked a million questions, an aid sat beside her. but she sat there, she didn't run or hide, she didn't scare away her teacher, and she was smiling at the end of the day.
this is one day. one isolated day. that is all.
this day means nothing about how her next year will be- it is not a guarantee of anything.
but this day we both could see how much she's grown.
we'll take it and be so so thankful!
1 comment:
Amazing and I am sure your heart sang!
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