James is His Own Man

James & his beloved L D-F

As a rule, I do not include names or photos of anyone outside our immediate family.  I am breaking that today. Because I am crushed. I feel like I am losing a loved one. I think I am.  James teacher is leaving. She came over two years ago and turned a topsy-turvy, rather chaotic situation into a calm, functioning classroom.  At first, I was apprehensive. She seemed unstructured. Instead, she was learning her situation, her students and their quirks. She observed and then quickly implemented. The change in James' life has been overwhelming. She always says: James is his own man.  That she has no hold on his successes.  She is so wrong!  James may think participating in school activities was his idea, but it was her slow and constant guidance that got it all started.

First and foremost, this woman single-handedly stopped the administration from using a strict bathroom schedule on James. One that had him holding and only peeing at night while in bed and only pooping with the aid of a suppository.  The chid could hold his urine for over 13 hours.  James' teacher risked unhappiness with her new employers and halted the procedure before James wound up in the emergency room.  She also was the first person to believe me - and I am forever in her debt. Most educators assume the parents are the weak link.  Even in this "enlightened age" of autism where the idea of the "refrigerator mother" has been deemed ridiculous.  Now we are thought of as loving but rather inept and uneducated.  While I often "drop the ball," it wasn't here and she knew it.  I think James using the bathroom is crucial to his development and to his future independence and participation in life.   Now James is only taken to the bathroom when other boys who could use the toilet go.  No luck yet but now James goes in his diaper while at school.  James has been in school for 5 years now, that he could become this comfortable is no small feat.

I also directly attribute the growth in James' confidence to his teacher. He knows that she understands him. She talks to the children, not at them. This might seem a small thing but for a kid who can't speak, it is HUGE. They are used to being in their own world and going unnoticed. She holds them accountable and they know it. If James is upset, he knows she will help him.

My list is endless.  She understand sensory issues in autistic kids.  She helped the school accept weighted vests, noise-canceling headphones, and the importance of carrying therapy practices over into the school day and not isolating them to the individual sessions.  When James stopped eating and drinking at school, she worked with me.  I was allowed to be there every lunch until I got him back.  It took over a month.  What other highly educated professional would let a lowly mom step in?

Other things I don't know for sure, but I see the results. Class trips have been with smaller groups, and more focused and practical.  Art and music therapy have been added.  While I know that comes down to funding, before their existence, whose musician-husband used to visit and bring his drums?  And I can't help but notice how her classroom attracts others.  They all stop in, the aides, the therapists, the janitors!  Even this year's classroom holiday celebration was one of overt and genuine affection.  Her group of aides love her and each other. The respect among these individuals is apparent.  Luckily they are staying while the hunt for a new teacher goes on.

So?  Knowing that this woman is so talented, how can I be sad that she is continuing her education?  Accepted as a doctoral candidate, furthering her studies into autism!  Isn't this the very kind of person I want to become a mucky-muck in the autistic world?!  Someone who understands our kids!  Someone who will continue to help others just like James?  Doctor D-F! Wow.  I fully expect to see her name in the paper discussing some new development.  Someone this knowledgeable, talented, well-spoken, poised - and did i mention drop-dead gorgeous - will undoubtedly soar!

Bon voyage, sweet L.  I will miss you.  And, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.