At the end of the three-day it-feels-like-a-suspension-but-isn’t “non-suspension,” the school district held a meeting. The meeting started with the Principal and the Special Ed Director debating whether or not Katie had been suspended. The Principal insisted she hadn’t. When asked why this distinction mattered, no answer was forthcoming.

The District then presented behavior data that demonstrated there were behavior problems. Well, duh. No one wanted to admit that this was due, at least in part, to the missing swing—despite the fact that the Dublin School District had told them, many, many times that unmet sensory needs would lead to challenging behavior. The other reason is that neither the teacher nor the aides have any experience or training in autism. No one wanted to admit that either. Or that the class size had almost doubled. Instead they blamed Katie. Since two days with a swing hadn’t magically cured the problems that had arisen in the previous 6 weeks, their only option was a change of placement.

The Special Ed Director urged me to consider the independent life skills class at Wells Middle School. This is a class filled with thirteen-year-old autistic boys, many of whom are not yet potty trained and still working on basic self-help skills such as dressing and tooth brushing. They are also boys that can, and do, take down an adult on a regular basis.

When I visited the classroom, I noticed very little talking or social interaction. The schedule devoted almost no time to academics but the word diapering was used. Katie would have no access to age-appropriate peers or playground equipment. There would be no opportunities for mainstreaming. In short, it was a fine program—for a child on the other end of the spectrum.

I was fighting tears when the teacher, who I liked, took me aside and whispered that she WOULD NOT put an eight-year-old in her class. Then she gave me a look that spoke volumes. I’d already vowed that Katie wouldn’t be placed there, but the teacher’s actions convinced me.

The Special Ed Director insisted it was an appropriate placement. I strongly disagreed and reminded him that the Dublin IEP Team had agreed with my position. The meeting rambled on. When it became clear that the behavior plan wasn’t being fully implemented, I was asked to keep Katie out of school for an additional two days so the classroom staff could be brought up to speed. I reluctantly agreed.

After five “non-suspension” days, Katie returned to school. A week later, the Principal suspended Katie for scratching a child’s hand in a dispute over a crayon. She scratched the aide and was suspended again. The Principal and I met with the Assistant Superintendent to seek clarification on the suspension policy. I said it wasn’t fair to suspend my daughter because the school district couldn’t figure out what to do about autistic behavior. The Principal asked for guidance. None was given.

Two more suspensions followed, along with more meetings. The Principal argued with the Special Ed Director and said that while he knew very little about special education, he agreed that the Wells program was inappropriate. A heated discussion followed. The life skills program was dropped.

I met with the Superintendent and told her the story. She didn’t exactly say there wouldn’t be more suspensions, but she did ask me to give the district another chance. She said the Special Ed Director wouldn’t be handling the case and mentioned removing roadblocks. What we did not discuss was the fact that I’d already requested a copy of Katie’s school file. This is standard procedure when a lawyer has been retained.

When the IEP Team met a few days later, suddenly there was a new possibility for an alternate placement: an autism program in Pleasanton that the Dublin team had mentioned a year earlier.

Isn’t that an interesting coincidence?

To be continued…

Until next time,
Cynthia Patton