In First Person, Chalkbeat features personal essays by educators, students, parents, and others who think and write about public education.
Every year, on the first day of school, we take a photo of our son Percy, now 5, by the blackboard and record his age, grade level, interests, etc. I'm sure you've seen these photos flood Instagram every September.
In the “What I want to be when I grow up'' section, most parents I know write “teacher'' or “firefighter'' as directed by their children. However, in my son's case, I wrote “adult.” My dream was for my son to be independent one day and live his life the way he wanted.
Percy has moderate to severe autism spectrum disorder and has struggled all his life to express himself, often becoming physically violent in frustration. Until his last fall, he didn't speak at all.
My family and I have lived our lives around finding the support Percy needs, from therapy for him to parenting classes for us. But when it came to finding a school for Percy, we couldn't find one that would accommodate him and his diagnosis. The local school district gave him his IEP, which did not include general education, but some local charters implicated a limited ability to meet Percy's needs.
Educators witnessed children who were too strict, abusive, and unable to support them.
Yes, Percy has behavioral issues. He's the first to say, it's not always easy to get him to do anything. But Percy is more than just an autism diagnosis. He also has incredible talent and talent.
Around his fourth birthday, Percy began reading and spelling words at a furious pace. From memorizing the alphabet to being able to spell over 30 words on her own, Percy clearly showed that she was smart, capable, and loved to learn. Ta. He especially loved learning about planets. By communicating with his talking tablet, he was able to name all the planets and moons in the correct order.
We followed the school district's recommendations and tried placing Percy in a special education only environment. That backfired. He turned to self-harm by banging his head against a wall to communicate his frustration and lack of stimulation. Every day, when we pushed him into the car, he would sob. As Percy retreats from the world and retreats deeper into himself, his passion for learning, even at home, fades.
One day, as I was driving home from work, I took a wrong turn and came across a sign for a new school called Rocketship Explore Elementary. When I got home and Googled it, the first thing I found was a story about “meaningful inclusivity” at the heart of the Rocketship Charter Network. Students with disabilities like Percy spend part of each day in a general education classroom, with a paraeducator when needed, and another part of the day in a classroom for students with disabilities.
I enrolled him and after a month it was clear that Percy was receiving the individualized support he needed to be successful. Today, Percy eats lunch, goes to recess, learns phonics, and goes on a field trip with his general education peers.
I'm so proud of Percy. More importantly, he is proud of himself.
Every morning, his school day begins with a lively all-school assembly, which the school calls a “launch.” This was a little overwhelming for my son who is very sensitive. So he didn't always participate because forcing them to participate doesn't help the kids.
But recently, when we entered the classroom, Percy didn't take his usual route to the classroom. He observed and found where his homeroom class was sitting and joined the other students. He's never thought, “Oh, everyone's sitting, so I'm going to sit.'' But that day he remained seated until the other children stood. He observed this behavior and stood up for himself! This was unheard of just a few months ago. But meaningful inclusion means Percy can join his neurotypical peers at his own pace.
I'm so proud of Percy. More importantly, he is proud of himself. It's a pleasure to see. And like Percy, there are many children who need to be seen for what they are and to be supported in their learning, not just for their most challenging behaviors, but also for their extraordinary talents.
By embracing neurodiversity and providing tailored support for diverse learners, schools can not only change lives, but also reshape the narrative surrounding students due to their learning and behavioral differences.
Next September, when we use the chalkboard for the first time at school, I'm going to let Percy fill in the blanks himself. Because I know he can grow up and be anything he wants to be.
Kathy Hauschildt is a mother of two who lives outside of Fort Worth, Texas.her children are participating Rocketship exploration elementary school.