I finally met with Dylan's new teacher. He's been back at school for a month already, but two previous meetings had been postponed, first due to the teacher's car trouble then to Isaac. I was initially nervous, but after so many cancellations, I was just happy to have it be over.
I was a little afraid that the language arts teacher would be there. Every solo meeting I scheduled with Dylan's main teacher last year ended up also being with his language arts teacher. Even when I asked that it be just her. It's hard to stake your ground when you always feel outnumbered.
So I entered the classroom unsure, but it was just one.
It was so much more like what I had expected of a teacher meeting. More like what they had been like in third grade. She really wanted to find out what interests Dylan, what helps him, what makes him tick. She wanted to know about medications but she agreed that they are not the end all, be all.
She reported about how she knew he had writing issues, but that she was still encouraging him to write what he could. In fact, she talked about a poem she asked the kids to copy. Dylan was spiraling out over it, but she calmed him down and told him to write half of it; that she would write the other half. That calmed him down.
She said his former teacher scoffed that she would have to write everything for him. The way she described the conversation I could hear the other teacher dismissing Dylan, dismissing his abilities and willingness to try. It made me angry that he ever had her, but happy that he has this new teacher who understands that he has issues, but she wants to help him overcome those issues.
In the end, I gave her a packet of information. Some specifically about Dylan. Some about ADHD and executive function deficits. Despite its prevalence, I don't find that the teachers really understand it, so I wanted to be prepared. I didn't want to seem pushy, but I want to advocate and get that information out there. I don't know if she'll read it all, but at least she has it as a resource.
I felt awesome when the meeting was over! I had a Jazzercise right after and I worked out so hard I was beat the next day. But it felt great.
It felt like hope.