A Good School District Part 2-The Journey to Homeschooling

After a year of rangling, and a less than encouraging IEP meeting, Red was on his way to another new school. Red rode 45 minutes each way. He was in a mixed class of 4th, 5th, and 6th graders, all with different DX's, lables, prescriptions, what have you...

Red was a "part-time" special ed student. Now let me explain to you what a P/T sped. student means. When the SD designed an IEP for my son that said my child would be in regular ed for 50% of his school week, I failed to realize that lunch, gym, music, and art would count toward that 50%. By the second or so month of school, it was recommended that Red do half of his science in his special ed class, after a few more months, they wanted him in there for math. Seems "regular ed" teachers don't have much patience for "special" kids.



To remind you dear reader, my son was in Emotional Support, because the lunk heads that evaluated my son found no prescence of any LD's. So, my son was with a potpourri of "interesting" children. One liked to sing lowly in class all day. Another liked to play hide and seek while changing classes. Others like to just constantly question the teacher out loud, at any given moment. My son must have been the star of the class, because he got a 20/20 on his behavior chart almost every day of 4th grade.



The teacher of the ES class my son was in was a dear, sweet, and probably gay gentleman named Mr. T. Mr. T was supposed to be my son's teacher for 3 years, basically the rest of elementary school. But no, the good old "Superior Suburban School District" had other plans. Seems they felt that it would be a good idea to move my son's ES class to another school, without their teacher, and cordially invited us to go "take a tour" to meet the principal and see the school. Oh, by the way, this generous invitation was sent out THE VERY LAST DAY OF SCHOOL. Nothing like being wacked with that kind of news right before summer vacation.



In case you aren't good with math, the change for the ES class meant that my son would be in his 3rd new school in as many years. I fought. I met with other angry parents. I called the newspaper. But what was I thinking; I'm merely just a tax paying parent.



To be continued again.....