Priorities.

On Tuesday, I visited our public middle school’s autism program. My son Robert was placed in “autism programs” (self-contained autism classrooms) from the time he was diagnosed in 2001 at age 4 until we moved to Vancouver, BC at age 9. While in Vancouver, he was mainstreamed in typical classrooms with a 1-1 special education assistant (SEA). I was so happy with his progress during those years and it was a relief to go into IEP meetings and be told, without asking, what would be provided for his support. It always met or exceeded my expectations and I am not complacent when it comes to my kids. When there were issues, other SEAs stepped in to pick up the slack and help. So I knew when we moved to Florida that it would be different. Let me tell you how different it is.

As I mentioned previously, I was really impressed by the director of the program when I met her at the IEP meeting. There were a few alarm bells but I wanted to see things for myself and make sure I wasn’t over-reacting (which I sometimes do). What I saw can only be described as grim. The autism wing is a long hallway that is segregated from the rest of the school. The sensory room was the best part, with lots of equipment for sensory regulation that my son really needs. But I was dismayed when the director referred to the children filing into the room as “our lowest-functioning.” As if they were carburetors instead of kids!

As we walked down the hallway, we entered each classroom and met the teachers. Again, the director referred to children as “lower-functioning.” The classroom she recommended for my son is taught by the mother of a son with autism. She seemed genuinely kind and I wondered if she could make up for some of the short-comings of the rest of the program. That notion was dispelled when she darted back to the table to grab the potato chips from the boy with whom she was working. The potato chips were being used as a reinforcer for him. In other words, if he performed a certain task, he was rewarded with a potato chip. I don’t want to judge here, but I won’t allow food to be used as a reward or punishment for ANYTHING. Perhaps that was the only way that child could learn. But it still made me sad. The rest of the children, there were 4 or 5, were scattered about the room, one laying on the floor, a couple at computers. But the two para-pros in the room sat in chairs at the back, not interacting with the students and looking as if they’d rather be getting a root canal.

Not to demean the children in that classroom at all, but Robert spells at a grade 6 level, he reads and does math. He has nice handwriting, does beautiful artwork and is a computer whiz. Why did the director believe he belonged in a classroom where no other child could even talk to him? Then we went to a computer classroom where the class Robert would eventually be placed in (if the teacher thought appropriate) was working. According to the director it was a “higher functioning” class. Again with that label. The kids looked genuinely kind. One Korean girl with thick glasses smiled and asked, “Who is that?” I thought she was so sweet but the director dismissed her inquiry. I could see the computer programs being used and they were pre-school to kindergarten level. And these are middle school students!

I told the director we just moved from a place that practices full inclusion and asked her if there were any programs in our county that did the same. She informed me that the elementary schools are usually inclusive but at the middle school level, “the work gets too intense and they can’t keep up academically.” At that point, I wanted to bite her. In an inclusive environment, children with autism work on the same topics, modified for their individual level. This program is apparently quite happy with keeping these children at their lowest common denominator instead of seeing each for his/her unique potential.

This particular school and program have been held up to me as some of the best in the county. Are they kidding? Those poor kids are literally withering on the vine. I’m willing to bet that many of them, with the right intervention, could go on to live productive and perhaps even independent lives as adults. They will never have that chance. And of course I can’t advocate for people who don’t want to be advocated for. Some parents may think the program is wonderful, a place their children can go for 6-7 hours a day and be supervised and somewhat occupied. But there is a whole lot of potential being squandered because some district bureaucrat decided it would be more efficient to lump all these kids with autism or behavioral disabilities into a sequestered wing of the public school and justify it because they offer speech and OT. Robert would literally be better served at home with no program at all than go to this program. Of course he will have a home program as I’m beginning to believe that is the only truly beneficial option for him. 

How do senators, governors or representatives of both parties from the state of Florida show their faces when their educational system is so utterly contemptible?

Peace.