I thought long and hard and for days before finally deciding
to go ahead with this post. The one thing that convinced me to write this was
the fact that if I didn’t then who would?
Moreover a small piece I had published on my website on a similar thread of the same subject
brought me a lot of favorable and I should say, sympathetic feedback, which
has given me the courage to open up some more.
So here goes.
So here goes.
My younger daughter, now ten years old, was diagnosed with
baseline autism at the tender age of 18 months.
I confess it didn’t come as much of a shock, I had had a
stressed pregnancy and was still in a lot turmoil when we were hit with the
news, so we just took it in our stride as yet another blow we had to face.
From the age of two, my sweet little baby had to attend daily speech and communicative therapy sessions, and she would go for her classes, equipped with her feeding bottles
and diapers. The therapy centre was a 40 minute drive from home, but the therapists were dedicated and enthusiastic and every effort was worth it.
For three years, Acsah attended intensive therapy and slowly but surely started to respond. She began to answer to her name, recognise images and people, learnt and remembered words and even began to formulate 2 to 3 worded sentences.
For three years, Acsah attended intensive therapy and slowly but surely started to respond. She began to answer to her name, recognise images and people, learnt and remembered words and even began to formulate 2 to 3 worded sentences.
We learnt along with her. Understanding that she was never
to be left alone in her own space, that she had to be forced to maintain eye contact, and that she had
to be dealt with oodles of patience and oodles and oodles of love.
And much that we learnt, we learnt from her.
Until then, patience had never been one of my virtues but my
little girl taught me that she had a will of her own and I had to be patient
and kind if I wanted her to abide by mine.
By the time she was five, she was responding beautifully to
therapy and we were told that she was now ready to try regular schooling.
Acsah did extremely well in the first two years at the school, and every school report was filled with glowing reports of her developments and abilities.
But by the third year at the school things slowly began to change.
Every meeting, and these were monthly review meetings, were filled with complaints about my child.
Acsah shouts in class.
She refuses to sit in her place during classes.
She sings in class.
She distracts the other students with all the noise she makes.
The complaints were never ending. And the school authorities made each problem seem so traumatic and criminal that I was always left at a loss at what to do.
We are talking of a 7 year old child in kindergarten, a child with baseline autism, a condition where restlessness, bursts of noises, and singsong chants are just a few of its basic symptoms. On patient and polite yet intensive questioning we finally came to understand that these were not daily regular occurrences but one off incidents. And honestly I was so glad that she was not aggressive nor violent but was in fact a passive and peaceful child. However her minor imperfections were major issues. How was I to tell my child that she was not to make noises or disrupt the class? And I was left wondering, shouldn't the teachers have a basic awareness about her condition and a knowledge on how they need to handle her at such times?
Any attempts of trying to tell the teachers that they should gently try to control her in class as and when she caused an issue were roughly brushed aside. We tried to explain that Acsah recognised and obeyed authority so all they needed to be was a bit firm. Kind but firm. All our pleas were of no avail. Instead we were clearly told by Rina, the Principal, that we should see a doctor and think about putting my child on medication to soothe her down.
Thankfully, I was determined that my child did not need to be medicated, because frankly, there is no medical cure for autism. In our desperation we opted for homeopathy instead. And it did help, a bit.
At the end of the third year, her notebooks remained new and mostly untouched with just a few pages, here and there, filled with illegible scribbles and that was the extent of a full year of her education at this school and yet, despite all the hostility that the teachers expressed, my little girl loved her school. She would wake up at 6am without any trouble and happily leave for school dressed proudly in her uniform, delighted to be with her friends, children she had no idea how to communicate with yet loved to be around with.
Knowing her need to be with the other children, we risked yet another year at the school. But by the end of this year we knew we didn't have a choice, we had to pull her out. The child was neglected, she was literally abandoned and was treated with so much hostility by the teachers it made my heart break. I knew how much she would miss the school, but I just wasn't given a choice.
Following our decision to leave the school we came to learn from several other parents of differently abled children studying in the same school, that they too faced similar hostile situations and they too were pulling their children out.
After much deliberation on what step to take next and not wanting to end up with a similar problem again, we finally decided to approach the well known +Choice School Cochin http://www.choiceschool.com having heard that they were sympathetic to children with disabilities and even had a dedicated department for students with studying disorders and autistic conditions.
The first round of meetings with the teachers and the Principal went really well. Until they met Acsah. And then they pulled their brakes. They admitted they had no issues with the child. They agreed that her problems were minimal and could easily be dealt with. They however, and after repeated follow-ups, eventually let out that they could not take her because she was too tall.
Yes I know, I was stumped too.
True Acsah was almost 5'5"ft in height at the age of 9. Both my daughters have been blessed with good height.
But how could her height be her fault?
They claimed that her height would make other children wary of her and she would end being avoided and alone. And this, they insisted, would disrupt her development. As teachers, don't they know that children are blissfully ignorant of such stupid social discriminations? In fact, all through her life, children, both big and small, have treated Acsah with far more compassion and care than any adult. But what were we to say?
The decision had clearly been made and there was nothing we could do. We couldn't force them to take her in. I could have opted to use major influence, political or likewise, and demand she be admitted to the school, but I was scared that that would just incur the wrath of the teachers and the Management and I did not want my baby to suffer negligence yet again. It was obvious that they didn't want her.
Thus we ended up at square one. Again.
It was as though fate was against her, or as I chose to believe, God had a different and better plan for her.
Thankfully it was at that time that we heard of a new school, +Spring Fielding, started specifically to help children with learning disabilities.
Acsah has been with them for over a year now and has group classes, individual one on one classes, occupational therapy and a whole lot of attention. She now spells words, writes and reads, adds numbers and knows subtraction as well.
Yes, the improvement within just a year is immense, proving that with just the right help children like Acsah can go a long way.
But the fact remains, she misses her old school. She misses the bustle and fun of being and growing with other children. She misses the normalcy she badly deserves to lead a simple ordinary life. A life that every other child takes for granted. Not a day goes by when she asks if she could go back to the old school. Unable to explain why she can't, we just say that she's too old for that school. She counters that with a request to be small again. And I'm at a loss on how to respond to that.
Her greatest treasure is a class picture of her in kindergarten. There are about 25 children in the picture and around 8 teachers, including the school principal. And she would point at each face and call out each name. Even today, a year and half after she left the place.
And every time I see her openly longing to go back, my heart aches with helplessness.
Therefore, as a parent I am forced to declare that when such small-town schools claim to be kind and open and understanding to children with problems they're just blatantly lying. And in today's day and age, when such unfortunate disabilities are getting more common than ever before, it's just sad that schools don't care. It's so easy to educate children that are just normal, what counts is when the special children are treated as just that, special, with every bit of care and understanding. When schools such as these, that claim to do all they can for children like my Acsah, still shut their doors on their innocent faces when it comes down to harsh reality, one can only wonder in desperation, would there ever be such a day when they actually mean what they say?
Thus my experience has taught me, that ordinary teachers in such so-called extraordinary schools are unfortunately terribly ignorant about children with special needs. We don't demand that they cater to every child that lands on their doorstep, but if the child has even a percentage of a chance to improve, then doesn't that child deserve the opportunity to at least try? Doesn't that child have a right to a normal childhood in a normal school? Don't the teachers and the schools have a duty to oblige? Shouldn't they be trained to understand and handle such requirements? And not merely wash their hands off with the silliest of reasons? I know that mine is just a knock on a wall that may never be torn down but at least I tried. I owe my daughter that much.
The complaints were never ending. And the school authorities made each problem seem so traumatic and criminal that I was always left at a loss at what to do.
We are talking of a 7 year old child in kindergarten, a child with baseline autism, a condition where restlessness, bursts of noises, and singsong chants are just a few of its basic symptoms. On patient and polite yet intensive questioning we finally came to understand that these were not daily regular occurrences but one off incidents. And honestly I was so glad that she was not aggressive nor violent but was in fact a passive and peaceful child. However her minor imperfections were major issues. How was I to tell my child that she was not to make noises or disrupt the class? And I was left wondering, shouldn't the teachers have a basic awareness about her condition and a knowledge on how they need to handle her at such times?Any attempts of trying to tell the teachers that they should gently try to control her in class as and when she caused an issue were roughly brushed aside. We tried to explain that Acsah recognised and obeyed authority so all they needed to be was a bit firm. Kind but firm. All our pleas were of no avail. Instead we were clearly told by Rina, the Principal, that we should see a doctor and think about putting my child on medication to soothe her down.
Thankfully, I was determined that my child did not need to be medicated, because frankly, there is no medical cure for autism. In our desperation we opted for homeopathy instead. And it did help, a bit.
Knowing her need to be with the other children, we risked yet another year at the school. But by the end of this year we knew we didn't have a choice, we had to pull her out. The child was neglected, she was literally abandoned and was treated with so much hostility by the teachers it made my heart break. I knew how much she would miss the school, but I just wasn't given a choice.
Following our decision to leave the school we came to learn from several other parents of differently abled children studying in the same school, that they too faced similar hostile situations and they too were pulling their children out.
After much deliberation on what step to take next and not wanting to end up with a similar problem again, we finally decided to approach the well known +Choice School Cochin http://www.choiceschool.com having heard that they were sympathetic to children with disabilities and even had a dedicated department for students with studying disorders and autistic conditions.
Yes I know, I was stumped too.
True Acsah was almost 5'5"ft in height at the age of 9. Both my daughters have been blessed with good height.
But how could her height be her fault?
They claimed that her height would make other children wary of her and she would end being avoided and alone. And this, they insisted, would disrupt her development. As teachers, don't they know that children are blissfully ignorant of such stupid social discriminations? In fact, all through her life, children, both big and small, have treated Acsah with far more compassion and care than any adult. But what were we to say?
The decision had clearly been made and there was nothing we could do. We couldn't force them to take her in. I could have opted to use major influence, political or likewise, and demand she be admitted to the school, but I was scared that that would just incur the wrath of the teachers and the Management and I did not want my baby to suffer negligence yet again. It was obvious that they didn't want her.
Thus we ended up at square one. Again.
It was as though fate was against her, or as I chose to believe, God had a different and better plan for her.
Thankfully it was at that time that we heard of a new school, +Spring Fielding, started specifically to help children with learning disabilities.
Acsah has been with them for over a year now and has group classes, individual one on one classes, occupational therapy and a whole lot of attention. She now spells words, writes and reads, adds numbers and knows subtraction as well.
Yes, the improvement within just a year is immense, proving that with just the right help children like Acsah can go a long way.
But the fact remains, she misses her old school. She misses the bustle and fun of being and growing with other children. She misses the normalcy she badly deserves to lead a simple ordinary life. A life that every other child takes for granted. Not a day goes by when she asks if she could go back to the old school. Unable to explain why she can't, we just say that she's too old for that school. She counters that with a request to be small again. And I'm at a loss on how to respond to that.
Her greatest treasure is a class picture of her in kindergarten. There are about 25 children in the picture and around 8 teachers, including the school principal. And she would point at each face and call out each name. Even today, a year and half after she left the place.
And every time I see her openly longing to go back, my heart aches with helplessness.
Therefore, as a parent I am forced to declare that when such small-town schools claim to be kind and open and understanding to children with problems they're just blatantly lying. And in today's day and age, when such unfortunate disabilities are getting more common than ever before, it's just sad that schools don't care. It's so easy to educate children that are just normal, what counts is when the special children are treated as just that, special, with every bit of care and understanding. When schools such as these, that claim to do all they can for children like my Acsah, still shut their doors on their innocent faces when it comes down to harsh reality, one can only wonder in desperation, would there ever be such a day when they actually mean what they say?
Thus my experience has taught me, that ordinary teachers in such so-called extraordinary schools are unfortunately terribly ignorant about children with special needs. We don't demand that they cater to every child that lands on their doorstep, but if the child has even a percentage of a chance to improve, then doesn't that child deserve the opportunity to at least try? Doesn't that child have a right to a normal childhood in a normal school? Don't the teachers and the schools have a duty to oblige? Shouldn't they be trained to understand and handle such requirements? And not merely wash their hands off with the silliest of reasons? I know that mine is just a knock on a wall that may never be torn down but at least I tried. I owe my daughter that much.