An IE What? In English, Please.

I remember as a parent sitting through my first IEP meeting. For those of you that do not know an IEP is Individualized Education Plan and there is a meeting once a year. It is for students that have a disability. My daughter was diagnosed in second grade with a learning disability. That is how I ended up in my first IEP meeting. I was on one side of the table with the ‘experts’ on the other side of the table. I remember how intimidating and scary it all felt. I remember everyone using words and terms that I didn’t understand. I left that meeting feeling awful about myself as a parent. I also felt after I left that everyone in that room was talking about what an awful parent I was and having a good laugh at my lack of education.

I remember the first IEP meeting I set through as a student. The parent brought her youngest son with her and shared her hopes and dreams for her children. She admitted that she could not help them much with their homework because she did not understand it. She told us that her five children all had different dads. She told us that her current ‘baby daddy’ was in jail and that her son’s father the one we were having the IEP meeting for was in prison. She worried about the lack of male role models in her children’s life. She didn’t want them to have the same lifestyle they were seeing. She told us that is why she is here. She wanted to make sure her children got a better education.

She left the room and the other team members turned to me and asked what I thought of Mrs. Z. My heart sank as I felt my nightmare coming true from all of my IEP meetings. I replied that I thought Mrs. Z was a poor struggling mother trying to do the best she could. I said, “I can tell that she cares deeply for her children and that she wants great things for them. She showed up to this meeting today even though she had less than a 24 hour notice, doesn’t drive, and is exhausted from taking care of a toddler. She loves them. That is what I thought of her.” The room chuckled and said I just needed more time.

Educators scream that they want more parent involvement but then talk negatively about the parents. Something needs to change. We are on the same team and we all need to act like it.

I hope I don’t ‘harden' over time. I hope in twenty years I can still see parents who love their child and just want them to have a better life. I hope I still understand what it was like to show up as a single mother with no education and sit on the other side of the table while the ‘experts’ told me about my child. I have 11 IEP’s to have written before the end of the school year. I will be leading the meetings this time. I hope that no mother ever leaves the room and feels like we are talking or laughing about them.

A Piece of Paper

I graduated in December. It was like end of January when they said we could stop by and pick up our diploma. I wasn’t in a hurry. After all it was just a piece of paper. I only needed that piece paper so I could get a job, the paper didn’t mean that much.

Fast forward to March. I find the JOB! I excitedly start the job as a middle school special education teacher. My first few days, I was in a haze. I was trying to figure out how my years (and years) of college translated in the real world. I was feeling overwhelmed. I didn’t know where to start or even how to make a plan to start.

This is when I decided to go pick up that piece of paper. The paper that was meaningless to me. I walk into the office and tell them that I am here to pick up my diploma. The lady behind the counter says, “Congratulations, you must be so proud of yourself!” “Oh and see you have ‘with distinction’ on your diploma that’s impressive,” she adds. Thank you I say in a very monotone voice. Then she hands me the diploma and something comes over me. I hold back tears as I leave the office and head back to my car.

I get inside my car and just start sobbing. I hold in my hands a piece of paper with my name on it. Because I didn’t graduate from high school it is the only diploma I have with my name on it. I had no idea how powerful a piece of paper could feel. All the struggling that it took to get this point came flooding to the surface. It was more than the late nights, the working full time, and being a single mom while trying to go to school. The struggle was overcoming opinions and statistics, facing my fears, and telling myself I was worth it, talented, smart and deserving of an education.

This piece of paper does not help me figure out how to write a lesson plan and make a schedule for 22 students in six different classes, three grades and all different abilities. It does not tell me how to write a real IEP or what to say to parents and teachers. It doesn’t tell me much of anything in the way it relates directly to my job. It does however tell me that I deserve to be here. I will work my butt off to figure out the rest and I already care deeply about my students and want them to succeed. So, lesson plans, schedules, and IEPs will get done even if at times it is overwhelming. And when I start to wonder if I can survive this first year I think I will take a look at that piece of paper, which means a lot to me.