I'll Save You A Cup

The Boy's TAC meeting took place on Wednesday.  We have once more met, the group of health professionals that work or have worked with The Boy, as well as myself, the school SENco, his class teacher and myself. 

This time, The Menopausal Misery deigned to attend also, following on I have no doubt from the sucession of complaints I have submitted about her (which, rather oddly as they were not addressed to her rather she received a copy as a professional courtesy, she has decided to respond to. Still, this is a story for another time).

I have come away from it with exactly no new insight or knowledge as to how The Boy's school intends to adjust to accomodate his autism whilst he is still in attendance there. 

I have sat through many hours of this babbling nonsense, where The Menopausal Misery tells me that The Boy's behaviour is due to his own volition rather than due to his being profoundly behaviourally disabled through autism. 

She has told me that it is my fault that he behaves as he does.  This is variantly because I allow him to watch Doctor Who (of which he likes approximately three episodes which are all vetted beforehand as he finds many of the others too frightening); because they believe that I do not employ any sanctions at home (though you should note that, before employing the school's rather interpretative take on strategies suggested by autism professionals at home, we had few incidents of very poor behaviour at home; although admittedly they did occcur); because they believe that I am inconsistent in dealing with him; because they believe that I am somehow encouraging his behaviour and condoning or possibly praising him for spitting, hitting and general violence.

She has told me that he is a naughty child; that he cannot learn.  I have been told by the school that they cannot quantify his intellectual level, and if indeed he has one.

Horrifically, he has been told by staff at the school that, should his behaviours continue, he will go to prison.  He has been told that nobody likes him, and that he is not wanted at the school.  He has been told that he is useless, and naughty, and that there is no place for him. 

I have been told that he acts without provocation; that he it is not that he reacts to stimuli but that he sulks.  I have been told so much banality that I think my ears have finally decided to stop listening to it.

The school has shown that it understands autism as well as I understand rocket science.  The Menopausal Misery has demanded that I make The Boy differentiate between the way he acts towards children and adults, an impossible task for him.  I have asserted that this is not something that he is able to do, what with him having a disability that prevens him being able to apply rules without equality.

He is not to assert when he finds a situation uncomfortable, if this might make him appear as rude or insolent.  Try to explain to these cuntards that he's not being rude but rather that he's being autistic and they will stare at you as if you are trying to excuse his shitting on a packed school playground whilst they are being visited by the Queen.

Try to advise them that whilst he has a reading age that is almost double his physical age and that his comprehension of language rivals that of a Year 4 child, his ability to express what he feels or what has occured is less than his younger sisters' and again you are met with the look of cro magnon man being passed an iPhone.

State as I did that you are tired of hearing their belief that your child is anything other than a little boy with a disability; a disability that makes the world a frightening, loud and consistently over stimulating place where everyone appears to be speaking a language that you have never heard with cultural references you do not understand and you will be looked at through the minds of a group of people who most likely believe that the Hand of God really did appear in 1986.

Have professionals on board who back up what you say with clinical evidence, who tell them that when The Boy makes a statement it should be listened to, that when he tries to amend how he behaves and it is not supported that he will not continue to try, and in essence you may as well be talking to yourself for all the information that they take on board.

Therefore, the decision has been made (not entirely with my support, but still) that The Boy will be on half days until term ends.  This will mean that there is a real chance of learning, both for me and for him, as I am the one who will now be teaching him for the next few weeks.  This appears to have been interpreted that I will now take on part of his teaching via a Pastoral Support Programme until Christmas.

For the time being, I will say nothing, instead adhering to the rules and supporting him as best I am able to. 

Meanwhile, the application for a statement is complete, and will be sent off pending The Boy's ever supportive Autism Advisary Service case worker casting her experienced eye over it. The process of statement application may even assist with finding a more accomodating school for The Boy.  I will continue to speak with my local Parent Partnership worker.  I will continue to make a scene and complain. 

To those of you have offered advice and help, I thank you. To those of you who have asked me for advice and help, please don't give up. We're all going to get there, just at different times; and regardless of what time you turn up, there'll still be enough coffee to go round.