A Very Aargh Day

 

climbing the wall

I drafted this post a couple of weeks back, on a bad day, and didn’t post it because….well, it was a bit ranty. But I’m posting it now because it’s background to where we are …today!

“An Aargh day today. My 12 year old son has Aspergers, ADD, plus informally diagnosed learning difficulties; dysgraphia (handwriting difficulty) being the most prominent. Today I got a letter from the school letting me know that if his writing doesn’t improve, he will not reach National Standards this year.

Aargh. Not because he is failing National Standards, but because JUST THE OTHER DAY I spoke to the Senco at his school, and his class teacher, mentioning his handwriting was a real disability and that they would never gauge his true abilities in anything which had to be handwritten, with not much more response than “yes that’s a shame isn’t it”. Ye gods, was I not clear enough? It’s not like I can ask the kid to just work harder and he’ll improve. Takes me right back to his first year at school when his lovely, well-meaning, but ignorant teacher asked me to request him to “try to focus” – like an effort from him would magically change the way his brain was wired.

Don’t get me wrong, I love this school, they’ve been amazing at looking after my kids. But even there it feels like there’s a lack of understanding – and if even there there is a lack of understanding, where else can we go and what more can we do.

So today, I am really tired of trying to explain, and trying to make the way clear to improving his future prospects. The child has incredible potential as a thinker – you know that just talking to him. But he will never be the kid who eases his way through school achieving a full deck of A’s. It will always be a battle, to an uncertain end. Just like any mother, I want my child to achieve his potential, but when one of the possible alternate outcomes is mental health collapse, there’s a good wack of concern also. And I’m just tired today, and I don’t have any answers.”

After that post, I did get some more constructive feedback from the school, and felt like we were getting some go-forward in some ways, and there was respite in a two week Easter holiday break.

But today, we are drawing to the close of the Easter holidays, and school is looming large on the horizon. The Prof is moody as all get-out, and ranting about how life is barely worth living because School, and he can’t keep up with the workload, because he is Useless.

I read a post by another WP blogger the other day, who through tragic circumstances discovered the incredible sensitivity of the bright mind. She posted a link to a book about this subject. Actually, I was already very well acquainted with how vulnerable bright minds are. To drive home the point, we also recently lost a cousin to suicide for I believe precisely these reasons. My first thought was, I have to get hold of this book! But then I thought, we already plan around this in the kids’ lives, in fact, having suffered myself for so many years, it is the exact thing I fear for my kids and work so hard to prevent. What makes me feel quite distressed is that I had hoped (assumed? planned?) that if I was aware of these pitfalls as my parents weren’t, as my aunt and uncle couldn’t know, then my kids would be ahead of the game, that we could avoid trainwrecks.

But it’s like we live on a knife edge. Yes, we might succeed in pulling through unscathed, but it takes such concentration to stay on that narrow track, and I cannot control for all eventualities and complexities. They’ve already had to live through a divorce. And even if I could keep them in a bubble, at some point they will be exposed to the Real World, and the extent to which they cope with that is presumably in large part the extent to which I have prepared them for the challenge.

The Real World don’t bend for no one. So if you have challenges, disavantages, disabilites, you just have to work that much harder to get by. But that’s Out There. Before they’re let loose, you do get some 18 years to train them up. What scares the crap out of me is making the most of the time that’s left.

And so when I want to ask the school work with him and strategise for his differences, it’s not because I’m an academic version of a soccer mom, it’s because I know that if his mind is not looked after, it won’t just stagnate, it will implode.

 

 

 

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2 thoughts on “A Very Aargh Day

  1. Virtual shoulder squeeze with sympathetic and rueful smile, coupled with a side order of whatever you would most like to feel from a relative stranger.

    There’s a section in Malcolm Gladwell’s book, David and Goliath, that your post made me think of. He talks about the way that difficult challenges (he uses the example of dyslexia) can sometimes be unexpected resources. I don’t at all mean to say, “cheer up, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” and I’m not great at distilling someone else’s arguments out of their writing on the fly. Just saying that you might find it interesting. And If it doesn’t end up to be encouraging, back to the library it goes, “and stay out!”

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  2. Aw thanks 🙂 And I understand what you mean – adversity can become part of our journey (if we let it?), in fact it is good for kids to learn to have to persevere, to a degree. I always liked the Aeon Flux quote, ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stranger’ 😉 (I guess it’s surviving the killing part that’s worrying). That looks like a very good book – maybe even for my boy to read. Thanks!

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