In which Pearl flies through the air with the greatest of ease.
Most primary schools have a school trip, in year 5 or 6. It becomes legendary in the school and is a rite of passage.
Surely a school which caters for children with physical challenges would not be able to do this? These children need wheelchairs, fancy equipment, medication, help washing, changing and dressing, some are fed through tubes .Far safer to keep them at home on familiar territory doing something nice and gentle like painting, or Muti Sensory activities.
If you agree with the previous statement I have failed, in the last few days, to convey the ethos of Horton Lodge Special School. For this I apologize.
As soon as they enter the school this children know about Bendrigg. The big ones go there, assemblies show abseiling, climbing,zip wires, caving.
As a newbie parent at the school, I was astonished.Pearl could never do that! Then I saw videos of some of the least physically able children in the school flying through the air on zip wires, squealing loudly and grinning widely.
And so, as it’s Saturday,and I need to take a small girl to her swimming lesson I’ll say no more, but treat you to some pictures of Action Pearl.
Oh just one more thing, if you donate to the school PFSA ,or have donated, this is one of the things the money will go towards.
The logistics,training and high staff to pupil ration could make Bendrigg prohibitively expensive.The centre itself is charitably funded, but costs to Horton children are kept low by the PFSAs tireless fundraising. If you would like to help some of Pearl’s friends fly through the air next year (and imagine this feeling if you spend most of your time in a wheelchair) please donate any amount, however small here.
In which help is required, and two schools take very different approaches to providing it.
We don’t do neurotypical in my family. As well as Pearl, we also have a son with Aspergers. It’s fair to say our school experiences with him have not always been positive.
Differences were apparent throughout Primary school, but as he hit year 6 and the pointless SATs, his stress levels began to rise exponentially.
His school had just been through a particularly unpleasant Ofsted inspection, and as a result staff stress was high, and the pressure to ensure all achieved, made the tests much more of a focus than they had previously been.
Rab (as he is known in the blogosphere) was having ‘tantrums’ (yes, before diagnosis we thought he was acting up) and was becoming very sad and withdrawn. He also experienced frequent stomach aches.
Busy with Pearl I had put Rab’s previous anxieties down to being a sensitive soul and mildly eccentric (oh my boy I’m sorry) I had not realized that the daily trauma of trying to fit into a neurototypical world, was frazzling his autistic sensibilities.
Finally as depression began to bite him and suicidal ideas were voiced I took him to the GP. Twice. And was told twice, that I was overmedicalising the situation.
I do hope the fact that I’m known to live with depression did not cause our splendid GPs to feel I was over reacting. I do hope so. They told me he could be refereed to CAMHS but the service was so busy I probably wouldn’t get an appointment, and that the referral needed to come via school.
Some background. At this point I had had children at this excellent primary for 9 years. I loved it. I had been Chair of Governors and knew the staff. School had participated in a study Rab had been part of when he had been diagnosed with anxiety disorder. I asked his class teacher if she would refer to CAMHS with the help of the school nurse.Transition to High School was approaching. The holidays were looming and I was very, very concerned. I needed help.
On the very last day of school, having heard nothing, and assuming it was all in hand, I asked the class teacher,
“have you heard anything from CAMHS?”
“I’ve discussed it with the Head who feels it would be better coming from his High School”
The High School that hadn’t met him, that did not know his peculiarities and strengths had not seen his ‘tantrums’ in action.
I share this, not to shame the school. It was otherwise excellent. I think in retrospect, Ofsted stress and end of term frenzy all played a part. I also think they had a lot of work to do on training and awareness of Special Needs in general and Autism in particular, which I’m sure has since happened, as they have an experienced Governing Body and a new Senior Leadership Team.
No. I share this in order to show you what busy, overstretched schools are often like, taken up by all the gubbins that Government throws at them, and the admin required more related to school performance than pupil (and teacher) satisfaction.
And now I give you the alternative.
This Monday we had an excellent morning in Horton watching Pearl and her class mates swim, before witnessing the opening of the new school swimming hoist! (Things are a little different in Special Ed! ).
As I left I was grabbed by one of the staff, not Pearl’s teacher, and who in fact has never taught Pearl, although she enjoyed a weeks residential at an outward bound centre (more of this tomorrow!). Pearl is an experienced user of the PODD communication system.
Said this astute individual.
“I’ve been watching Pearl use PODD and I think she is ready for a more high tech version-what do you think?”
Chat followed, and we both agreed.
“Well then, I’ll refer her on to the Specialist Centre, we’ll do it now because we have all the information from knowing Pearl. It will take High School a while to see how she communicates, but we already know”
Two schools both excellent.
One with Classe of 30 + can’t take the extra work and hasn’t spotted an issue.
Another with high staff to pupil ratio, and freed to think inventively about achieving curriculum goals has volunteered information based on pupil observation, and initiated extra work under pressure at a busy time.
All I can say is that if I was a teacher, given the choice, I’d work in Special Ed.
If I ran the Government (and frankly I’m a little too busy to take it on) all schools would have a diversified curriculum and measuring and testing would have low priority at Primary level.
I suspect that pupil mental health would be positively impacted, and teacher burn out greatly reduced.
But what do I know? I’m only a mother.
Come on Secretary of State for Education, lets all #bemorehorton.
This is part of a blog a day for Horton.Any opinions are the authors and does not necessarily reflect those of the school.
In which a group of over excited children fail to spot the difference between yoga and sardines.
Yoga, once a spiritual exercise, has been widely embraced for its calming and mindful effects.
Horton Lodge has a simple but very effective way of communicating what happens in the day, a home school book. Filled in daily by the teaching and support staff, and also used by school nurses and therapists, it is pounced on daily in our house. Pearl is non verbal, so when I have read it we can talk about the day, with the help of the excellent PODD.
I have had a few favourite entries, but by far the most hilarious read:
“Today we started our yoga sessions.We spent the first remembering to stay in our own space on the mat”
Maybe it’s having worked in schools, perhaps it’s because Pearl is my third, but I could hear a world of patience, pain,and mild hysteria emanating from this simple sentence.
The next day was parents evening.
“So” I said.
“How was yoga, did they stay on the mats?”
The class teacher grinned broadly.
“Well we are using a DVD and the whole class (about 8 children of varying physical ability) made for the mat nearest the DVD and lay on top of each other in a big pile”
Now I go to a restorative yoga session every Friday. It calms me, grounds me,and helps me prepare for the whirlwind that is Pearl being home at the weekend. Because of this diary entry,dear reader, at the beginning of my weekly session,as I start to relax I hear in my head “remember to stay in your own place on the mat” and shake silently at the mental image it conjures up.
This is part of a blog a day for Horton.You can find out more about the school here .and help Pearl show her appreciation with a donation here.
In which we impart the amazing truth that SEND children do receive an education!
When you fall pregnant, people ask you extraordinary questions. “Was it planned?” was perhaps the most insensitive, but if that baby has a disability or other needs peoples self monitoring really takes your breath away.
Thus, on a weekday in term time I am regularly asked “where’s Pearl?”
I know I’m not alone in this, and I can’t quite work out why.
Perhaps the wider public only see SEND children “in extremis”on DIY SOS or Children in Need. Maybe they think that these children are ill, lying in invalid chairs, and being kept out of the sun? Or are they permanently hospitalized? Seems unlikely that they believe that Pearl is at home with me, while I home educate her, as it must be obvious I have the patience of a dead hedgehog.
I’ll let you all in to a little secret, you may not see Pearl in the local primary, but that is because she is busy honing her leadership skills at her excellent special school Horton Lodge.
Children with additional needs are in fact children too! Who knew ? They laugh, cry and demand attention just like their neurotypical friends, and like them, they mainly go to school! They may miss more lessons because of medical appointments, they may fall ill more often, and more severely. When they are well, off to school they go. It is (as I told my older two when they didn’t want to go in) the law of the land.
Historically Special Schools kept children occupied during the day, the best obviously achieved more, but expectations were not high.
Several decades ago, during my SALT training, schools were separated into Moderate Learning Difficulties, Severe Learning Difficulties and Physically Handicapped.
Shortly after this integration became the gold standard and many specialist special schools were closed to allow people to be taught together in mainstream. Unfortunately integration without extra money or training often led to lip service being given to integration, while pupils were isolated in a separate room with a TA. Generic special schools began to cater for the more complex children,and now specialist provision for autism is also on the rise.
What does this tell us about Special Education? Well, like general educational provision it is ruled by the will and whim of the political elite, and similarly affected by lack of resources. Special Schools require Ofsted reports and a Governing Body. They too can become Academies, and also follow the National Curriculum.
BUT, and here’s the thing, they follow a diversified, enriched curriculum.The subject headings are the same, but the means of covering them, and the level at which they are covered, is guided by the individual learners ability and style of learning.
It could be argued that all teachers should be able to do this, and that education should be an enjoyable, enriching path to a lifetimes learning, but that dear reader is to underestimate the vital necessity of league tables, marks and passing and failing to our daily lives. Well quite.
SEND children are educated in mainstream with TA support, at home by parents with more patience than this one, or Special School with intervention from various therapies and School Nurses alongside the teaching staff.They will learn in a variety of ways, some passing exams and going onto further study, some following a sensory curriculum and learning to react and express themselves in different ways.
A few really lucky ones will end up at Horton Lodge Community Special School,where they will leave with amazing self esteem, a can do attitude and a general belief that they are the equal of anyone. Shouldn’t that be the aim of education?
Does this approach prepare them for the real world? More on that tomorrow…..
This blog is part of a blog a day for Horton.If you’ve enjoyed it a donation to the PFSA can be made here.To find out more about Conductive Education in action check here.
In which I, the Broad in question, dispense advice in a thoughtful and non hysterical fashion.Yeah right.
This post was initially published on Firefly Community. You can find the original here
As part of an occasional series designed to make you feel better about yourself I bring you:
Things I have done and regretted, to save you the bother of trying them.
If you too are attempting to juggle a career, various pets and an assortment of non-typical children, you probably find yourself at the bottom of the pile.
‘Me time’ may involve going for a quick wee.
It is l worthwhile making time for yourself, but keep your eyes open, your wits about you, forward plan and be aware of your environment. If not,you may find yourself:
Brushing your teeth with Savlon.
It is in a blue toothpaste like tube, it squeezes out onto your toothbrush in a white toothpaste like way. It is NOT however, nor does it taste like toothpaste. Despite probably making your mouth antiseptic and germ free it leaves your teeth feeling furry, like a bad hangover. Not one to try.
Applying Sudocrem to a small persons nether regions and leaving it in reaching distance.
The bonus of this is a quick indication of how far said small persons fine motor control, reaching balance and general determination has progressed, not easily measured on a standardized developmental scale.
The flip side is having to remove the zinc based white substance from the individual’s (let’s call her Pearl) hair, eyes nose and all furnishings and room décor.
On the last occasion (no I don’t learn from my own advice, yes it has happened more that once)Pearl went to school with the pallor and demeanor of a cheerful eleven year old Goth.
Putting Contact Lenses in without fully rinsing the soap from your hands.
From a distance it probably looked like I had perfected a new hip hop dance style, followed by a sudden realization of my own mortality and prolonged weeping.
Apologising for things done or requested
It weakens your case and is often a female default. Think, would a man do that? No? Then don’t. People may call you bossy rather than assertive, but frankly who cares?
Caring too much.
Not about your significant others, or your non typical offspring but worrying about what people think of you, your face, your hair, your opinion your child’s screaming.
Try not to wait until the advanced age of 47 to stop caring about these things. It’s a waste of time, you cannot control what people think of you, and chances are it’s not even what imagine.
Generally speaking I couldn’t give a F**.. fig (obvs)
(See also taking yourself too seriously)
(although not your opinion which is valid and you are entitled to)
Life is too short to:
Drink bad coffee
Completely avoid sugar
Spend time with people who don’t get you
Persevere with therapies that make you or the child miserable
Or eat olives (that might just be me)
Please feel free to step lightly into the carefree future.
In which I review my favourite inspirational messages-and a fair few that just don’t make the grade.
This post originally appeared on Firefly Community and can be viewed here
Inspirational quotes, you know the ones. They pop up on your face book feed with a beautiful picture of a sunset, someone climbing a mountain, or jumping in the air with pure joy. They are a mixed blessing. Some can really resonate, a quote from an author, a word of scripture from a holy book. Some can irritate. Some are just plain wrong, I’m pretty sure that Winnie the Pooh didn’t make the “I have a dream” speech, and the things that Oscar Wilde reportedly said, well just don’t get me started.
Hand in hand with this come the helpful little phrases people choose to share with parents of children with additional needs. Most of this comes from the right place, although “God only gives special children to special parents” should be shoved somewhere else altogether.
I have compiled, for your reading pleasure a short summary of some of the most common. You probably have some favourites of your own. If any come to mind that help you/make you want to punch somebody please share with the community below the line!
Don’t sweat the small stuff, and it’s all small stuff.
In parenting a child with disabilities, as in life generally, this is not entirely true.
We brush up against mortality, severe illness, pain and struggle on a regular basis, plus the big questions of faith, meaning, love and loss. It’s not all small stuff.
Whether you have enough likes on your Facebook Page, if you have sent a birthday card a bit late, if your house is a bit untidy this my friend is the small stuff. You have my permission not to sweat it.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
This has always been one of my favourites. However now I wonder whether to replace it with
“what doesn’t kill you makes you exhausted, sleep deprived, Clinically Depressed, the possessor of a fierce and dark humour, snappy and reliant on alcohol”
Self-care suggests the first reading is preferable. On the days where the second is more accurate be kind to yourself.
Which brings us neatly to
Be kind for everyone is fighting a hard battle.
You my fellow parent, if you care for a child with additional needs you are fighting a hard battle. The person who has parked in a disabled space with no badge, I have less sympathy for.
The Local Authority responsible for providing care and support for you, your family and your child? Well they are paid, and should be working on your behalf.
For most special parents this could be adapted to Be Kind for everybody is fighting a hard battle with the Local Authority. It shouldn’t be accurate but there we are.
What cannot be cured must be endured
Must it? Well in reality yes, and emotional resilience, the ability to bounce back and keep on keeping on is useful tool in the special parents armour. I would argue however that you need to find people who get you, family friends, parents in the same position, so you can endure it with a better grace together. It may be that you can (whisper it quietly) even enjoy it!
I will leave you with my current personal favourite, which happens to be biblical but I think describes us, our children and our struggles well no matter what beliefs we do or do not have.
But we have this treasure in jars of clay
We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair, persecuted, but not forsaken, struck down, but not destroyed.
As I frequently find myself perplexed, despairing and feeling forsaken this curiously helps me. Despite all this I am a treasure in my 47 year old body, as is my beauteous daughter in her tricky, muscle weakend, wobbly, treacherous, one.
We are all the same no matter what our abilities or disabilities and that,to me is rather wonderful..