Saturday, January 12, 2013

Unpopular

In the STAR program, we had a parent meeting about 504 plans. Everyone in the room talked about how hard it was for them to get teachers and administrators to follow the 504 plans for their child.

When it was my turn to speak, I admitted that I didn't use a 504 plan.

The group leader was evidently distraught at the prospect of a diabetic child running around without some sort of paperwork marking her as "special".

I explained that each year I write a letter to every teacher and coach that comes into contact with M, and cc the school nurse, who is obviously aware of her condition. I believe that for M, this is special paperwork enough: especially since (so far) I have a system of open communication with the school she attends.

A parent in the group asked me if teachers allow her the special accommodations needed to manage her type 1 at school. I responded that yes, they do, although M sometimes needs to remind them that she has diabetes.

For example, M's math teacher, whom she adores, was giving a test when M realized that the tubing on her pump was leaking. Panicked, she raised her hand and asked to go to the nurse.

"Can it wait?" the teacher asked.

M shook her head, "no" and was sent on her way.

When I spoke to the same teacher at a regularly scheduled parent conference, she admitted that she had forgotten that M had diabetes. "I assumed it was a female issue", she told me.

We took that opportunity to explain what diabetes is, and the multiple ways it can present itself in class.

She was sincerely fascinated, and we nearly ran over the allotted time.

A parent in the group said that rather than having to give "mini lessons" like this to M's teachers, a 504 would educate them. and save me time. Then she told me about her yearly ritual: she holds a meeting with all of her child's teachers at the beginning of the year to explain what diabetes is, and how to care for her child. Then each teacher is handed the 504 and the care plan, and asked if they have any questions.

I listened to her, and what she said made sense. But arguing that the 504 would somehow save me time was not true. I could hold such a meeting with M's teachers and never hand them a sheet of paper.

I was smart enough not to say this, however.

But the group leader leaped on the parent's comments and took the opportunity to press the issue with me. As the entire group looked on, she explained that since the 504 is a legal document that it would protect our family. "From what?" I wondered. If something serious happens to M in school, all a 504 does is give me the right to sue the school, which, considering that I had already laid it all out in a letter, is probably true anyway. Suing a school wouldn't help me, and a 504 is no guarantee that she would get the care that she needed. I mean, I know it couldn't hurt, but with only two and a half years left of public high school, was it really worth the effort? After all, when she was in a teeny-tiny Montessori school, M didn't even have a school nurse and managed quite well.

The group leader told me that she would be happy to help me with the legalities and formation of the document, to which I shrugged and replied, "You know, it's a lot of work, and I just don't want to do it."

After that little tidbit popped out of my mouth, a nano-second of doubt occurred: a tiny moment where I felt sure that I had said the wrong thing and would be upbraided in front of my peers.

But nobody said anything, and we just moved on to another topic.

Yea me!

Now we'll see if anyone talks to me at the next meeting.

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