WERE YOU THAT PARENT OR CAREGIVER?

How many parents or caregivers raising a child with an emotional, behavioral, or mental health need have ever been told at an Individualized Education Plan (IEP) meeting:  "This is all we have to offer your child." - or - "We don't have the budget to provide that level of support."

If you have been there, you know that moment.  That deep sigh.  That mix of frustration, helplessness, and disbelief.

I was one of those parents.

In the beginning, I accepted what I was told.  I trusted the professionals sitting around the table; after all, they were the experts.  When they said there was no funding in the budget to send my child out-of-district to a specialized school, I believed them.  The only option, they said, was to keep him in-district in a self-contained class.

Well, it did not take long to realize that in-district was not the answer for my child.  He proved it every single day.

Meeting after meeting, I listened to the same jargon, the same circular discussions, the same "We are doing all we can."  Until one day, something in me shifted.  I thought, "Why is this my problem?"

When I was told again that there wasn't money in the budget for my child's services, I looked around the table and said, politely in my own Muriel way, "This is not my problem.  It's yours.  You need to find the money."

Then I did something I have told other parents to do ever since:  I followed up in writing.  I emailed the Director of Special Education to memorialize that meeting, every word, every denial, every request.  It perplexed the professionals at the table because I was writing everything they said in shorthand.

Not long after, another meeting was scheduled.  This time, the Director of Special Education was in attendance and came prepared with a list of out-of-district schools for me to visit with my child.

That day taught me something powerful:  Advocacy is not about being combative or oppositional, it is about stating the facts and accountability.  I left my emotions at the door and entered with facts.

Sometimes, courage looks like challenging a system that has gotten too comfortable saying, "We can't."

This is the out-of-district program that I fought so hard to get him into.  This program was a true blessing in helping my son regain his speech.  I never questioned why he was wearing someone else's smock. Knowing my son, he probably insisted on wearing it -- so I didn't ask :)