At the beginning of the school year I wrote a post that was full of optimism for the upcoming school year.

Well, the year certainly has not gone according to plan. Or maybe it did, in a roundabout sort of way?

I anticipated we’d meet a few bumps along the road a the beginning of the the school year. Robert was placed in a portable classroom for the first time. He was paired up with an EA who didn’t know him – and who he didn’t know either. He had a new (to him) teacher and was placed in a classroom that didn’t include his best friend. That’s a lot for any kid, right?!

Transitions have often been tough for him. With so many changes happening all at once this school year, I was anticipating some difficulties getting into a routine. But, I trusted that the school would have things in place to make it easier for him; after all, this is the school he’d been attending since JK. I was sure that they’d have a plan ready to help him embrace the change. They know him, right?

Wrong.

I did not foresee the struggles we faced. I wasn’t prepared for my son to express a daily reluctance to go to school, telling me that he wasn’t feeling well, and behaving differently than the Robert we know.

When a child with limited verbal skills experiences stress, it can manifest in many ways. With Robert, I noticed his morning routine changed. He began telling me he had a stomach ache or a headache, and he did not want to go to school. Every afternoon, after school, he seemed more withdrawn and he needed to decompress alone in ways he hadn’t all summer. I could see the stress manifest in how he was quick to react out of frustration towards his siblings, and how he came home with uneaten food in his lunchbox (especially since he has a habit of telling me he’s hungry every 35 minutes or so…).

His teacher last year embraced him wholeheartedly as a person, showing love, respect and a willingness to see him for who he is (without trying to change him). To us, it appeared as though she recognized his strengths and used them to her advantage whenever possible in class. As a result, she set the bar pretty high for this school year. We expected that same vibrancy, inclusion and love as Robert entered the 4th grade.

This year, the vibe felt different. I don’t know if it was the new teacher, the new EA, the new environment, a lack of support being implemented, the fact that Robert’s desk was isolated in the back of the classroom, or a combination of all of these things.

I have no insight into the relationship or rapport that was being formed between Robert and the new educational team. I wasn’t asked for advice or strategies on how to engage Robert in the learning environment or to help ease the difficult transitions they were experiencing. When I sought out opportunities for dialogue, I was met with roadblocks. There didn’t seem to be a willingness for all of us to collaborate in order for Robert to have a successful year.

What was happening in his classroom to make him want to avoid school, especially in these first weeks where it should be fun and exciting, full of back-to-school energy and buzz? I wondered how his peers were treating him, how his EA interacted with him, and what measures were in place to provide him with safe autonomy, an inclusive environment, and an exciting space to learn.

I reached out to the school after receiving a couple of emails that felt void of empathy and kindness. The content and tone of the emails gave me pause, and I felt concerned about whether my son was seen as a person by those responsible for him. I was curious about if and how his IEP accommodations were being implemented. The questions and worries swirled in my mind.

Speaking with the principal, I shared my concerns, my worries and asked questions about how things were unfolding. But, I didn’t find comfort in the call. Nor did I find reassurances when I followed up by email to summarize the call and once again voice my worries.

As the days passed, I felt as though I was still in the dark about what was really happening. I wanted reassurances from the principal and the teacher, but I didn’t get them. A classroom tour didn’t alleviate any worries, especially when we weren’t greeted by the teacher that evening. What I did see was my son’s desk isolated in the back corner of the portable classroom. My heart sank. What was happening?

My concerns persisted. I hoped that a team meeting with all of the people who support Robert would happen sooner than later (after all, it was still September!). We needed to turn things around, and bring back Robert’s love of school.

The school would want that, wouldn’t they? They’d welcome the opportunity to demonstrate how they support and care for my child, right?

We decided to explore another school in our area, just in case.

Within days of reaching out to that new school, we made the choice to move the boys. That school felt like a community we wanted to be a part of.

It’s been a few months since we made the change. Since then, I’ve noticed Robert has been more patient with his siblings (of course he still gets frustrated, it’s not easy being a big brother!). Instead of emptying a half-eaten lunch after school, I was asked to send more food to school with him, because he was telling his teacher he was still hungry.

Robert no longer tells me he’s sick in the morning. Instead he’s ready at the front door, waiting for us to all be ready to go and catch the bus. He yells hello to his new classmates when he arrives at school, and rushes into the school building barely saying goodbye to me on days I drop him off.

The educational team has been incredibly supportive, providing me with daily updates, no matter how small. They share what went well and what didn’t on any given day. The transition has also been smooth for his siblings, who haven’t once expressed a desire to return to their old school (though they do tell me they miss their friends).

And despite the move to a new school, I am still looking to resolve the issues we had with the last school. I recognized the stress our son was experiencing, and I was able to intervene, but not every parent is able to do that. The problem of communication persists. I filed an internal complaint in October, only to have an incomplete, one-sided, report handed to me weeks later. I followed up with the superintendent, only to have an incomplete, cold response directing me to the Director of Education. I followed her direction and a month after emailing the Director of Education, we met and I was given empty promises to receive updates on our file “within a week” (it’s been more than one month since we had the call).

In October, the previous principal accused me of being uncooperative with the school because I had shared some of our story and difficulties with select trusted friends over instant messages on social media. I shared with them my frustrations and asked for advice. It got back to the school and I was seen as being unwilling to work with the school. It was a way for the school to label me a problem, and not to take ownership of the situation they created.

The boys changed schools in October 2023. We are now at the beginning of March 2024 (nearly 6 months after I first brought my concerns to the principal) and I am still waiting for someone at the school board to speak with me in an effort to resolve this systemic problem. No other parent or child should have to experience what we have experienced, and the school should want to avoid a repeat of the situation.

I am done being quiet about what we experienced. I am no longer interested in waiting in silence for answers only to receive empty promises of resolutions to come. I will not stand by and let this happen to someone else’s child.

Despite the frustrations that linger as a result of the difficult start to the school year, and despite the heartache of leaving behind some wonderful people and educators we had truly loved and respected, I am so grateful we took a leap of faith and changed schools for our children.

At a recent parent-teacher interview, one of the members of Robert’s education team shared with me how impressed they were to see such great progress and willingness to learn from Robert. They told me: I don’t think Robert knew that school was a place for him to learn. He’s very smart. He has a light in him that is infectious.

My optimism and hope for the school year was renewed with the change of schools, and I can see that Robert is being treated the way a child should be treated by those we entrust to care for our children – with love, respect and dignity.