“Well, that was bleak.”

It’s been an emotional day and I thought, well, this is what this space is for.

Last night we watched a documentary on BBC1: Panorama: Autism, School and Families on the Edge.
It followed around four families all having to home-school as the schools their kids attended couldn’t meet or fund their needs.

The parents had to collect all the paperwork and apply to their councils to try to secure an education. In all the cases, their EHCPs had been turned down at least once, the schools said they couldn’t support the child and most were having to take their cases to court.

In all the families, the mums (some single parents) were the ones that had to cut back and eventually quit their jobs to become full-time carers. Just living in limbo, wondering if their kids would go back into the education system and what their future would hold.

When it finished, Kike summed it up perfectly:
“Well, that was bleak.”
And I went to bed.

The Call from School

So, off to school this morning. I get to breaktime and look at my phone. Missed calls from school, a follow up on the EHCP.

I read my emails. As I wrote last week, I thought River had his EHCP. Turns out I wasn’t entirely correct. He has been approved one but I was sent the draft, it’s not finalised.

And now it turns out it’s being turned down by the school.

Basically, the school agrees with the report and all the support River needs but they don’t agree with the amount of funding the council is willing to give.

Back and Forth

During lunch, I rang back to talk through the next steps. I understand better than most that this whole process is a constant back and forth, trying to secure as much support as possible but it still felt like a step backwards.

I’d mentally ticked this part off and moved on and now I’m back in.

Also, to read and hear again about the sheer amount of support my child needs just to attend school made me question every decision I’ve ever made.

I listened to all the information, next steps and the email I need to write.

I debated asking but the thought was already in my head so I went for it:
“I know he’s very young but do you think River will ever cope with mainstream school?”

There was a pause.

“It’s very early to say and I would never comment on that at this time before we have his full support in place. If in six months, a year, two years we feel that this support is not making a difference and we feel that River could be supported somewhere better, then we would talk to you and support you in whatever decisions you make.”
“I suggest talking to others who are in a similar position and getting some advice, looking at all the options.”

The Spiral

I couldn’t help it. I started to cry. Which was not ideal as I was on my lunch break with five minutes to go.

I don’t know anyone in the same position.
I don’t know any other schools.
I don’t drive, how would I get him to a different school?

I started to spiral. I’m going to have to give up my job, we won’t be able to stay in London, where will we live…

The bell went, which snapped me out of it. I collected my class and only a couple commented on my red eyes.
“Allergies,” I said.

Sitting in Assembly

I took them to assembly and as I sat and watched the children singing along, my mind wandered back to that sad place.

Would River be able to do this?
Does he want to be able to do this?
Should I fight so hard to send him to a place that openly says he needs so much support to get through the day?

Now, this isn’t anything negative about his school, they’ve been brilliant. It’s more a reflection of schooling in general.

Schools are not equipped to cope with the levels of SEND children. The curriculum is not written with them in mind. Teacher training is constantly out of date because everything moves so fast and the pressures are piled on.

It truly is a broken system and all I can do is sit back and watch him enter it.

The Big Question

I could say no, he’d be better off with me. I’m an educator, I could home-school.

But I don’t want to. I don’t think he’d be better off with me.
I want him to be confident to go out into the world without me one day.

And maybe selfishly, I want to continue with my career, have my salary that allows us to live here and have time apart.

One Day at a Time

So as usual, there’s not a nice neat little bow to wrap up my thoughts.

I’ll have my spirals and I’ll have more positive days. I’ll write my email to the council and await the re-draft.

River will keep going to Nursery and life will continue.

I suppose it doesn’t do any of us any good to think too far into the future, we never know what’s going to happen.
One day at a time is all we can do.

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A Little Favour

Right, I need a favour.

I obviously like to physically push myself when I’m at my lowest and I’m easily swayed by charity events.

I signed up to walk 100 miles in October to raise money for the National Autistic Society and so far it’s going pretty slowly.

If you feel like raising my guilt levels a bit higher, I mean, motivating me to complete the challenge then chuck £5 my way.

Thank you.