kindergarten is complicated

Is this interesting to anyone besides me? Not that it’ll affect what I write here – I need to record this absurd process –- but I’m curious.

So. The new chapter in the school search saga. Yesterday morning I got up ridiculously early to trek across town for a school tour. It took even longer than I’d feared. Forty five minutes on clear roads. God knows what it would be like in heavy traffic with stops to let kids off the bus. Damian would get home after dark. No thanks.

Still, I mused as I drove on curvy roads through winter-watered green hills, it’s so peaceful up here. Like a different world. We could move up here. Not to a house, we couldn’t afford a one room bungalow in that part of town, but maybe a condo. It might be a pleasant change of pace. Sure is pretty up here.

Then I went on the tour. Well. The school looks fairly good. Pleasant grounds, attentive kids, colorful classrooms, though I had some hesitations. For reasons I can’t articulate, it doesn’t feel like the best fit. But the people on the tour, including the woman giving the tour – well, they were all very much of that part of town. The parent giving the tour was gaunt, her skin stretched taut across her skull. Her hair perfectly coiffed, sprayed and airbrushed, her clothes ultrafashionable. She was sleek like a ferret. Super nice and friendly in that California way. Pleasant enough, yes, but a school filled with parents like that? Arranging play dates with their children? The only person on the tour I related to turned out to be the only other one from outside the local area. Tells you something, doesn’t it?

An interesting tidbit: the kindergarten classes there are crowded with local kids. They attend the school for a year and then switch to private school – and repeat the same grade. Their parents plan it this way ahead of time. Why not just stay in preschool an extra year? Is it just so their kids can shine academically in the private school after having gotten an actual kindergarten experience ahead of time? So they can seem gifted, ahead of the curve? Is this a form of stacking the deck?

I’m glad I went, though. I picked up an application. We need to choose one of the five charter schools in this particular area. They have a compact. One of the five is also in an upscale area, but it’s closer to home and also closer to where we want to move. They accept roughly half the out-of-area applicants. I’ll check the place out, probably apply. The head of Damian’s current school says it’s a good place. I have still have some hesitation. The woman on the phone assumed I was in the local district. Which means most kids who go there are. Which means Damian will be an outsider. Which is not good. Maybe we should be looking at townhouses and condos there? I like the neighborhood. The people seem a little less tightly wound than the other place.

Or maybe it’d be fine for him to commute. It’s probably half an hour from here. We’d have to see if he gets in. If we decide to send him. If it’s the best choice. If if if.

There’s another issue, a big one. This may be a concern in every school around here, I don’t yet know. But I don’t like it. In fact, it infuriates me. I’ve heard before that some (a lot of?) schools try to block children with special needs from enrolling. Now I know how. The charter school application I picked up yesterday asked for a bunch of relevant information: does your child have a sibling in the school, how old is your child, how can we contact you? That sort of thing. It also asked something else. Now, remember, this application will be tossed into a box and pulled out in a completely random lottery. If your slip of paper is pulled, you then fill out an enrollment form with more useful information.

So then why did this half-sized piece of paper have a section in it asking if your child has been assessed for and qualifies for any of the following special services and instructing you in that case to attach said child’s IEP? The acronyms that followed included things like OHI (Other Health Impaired) and SED (Severe Emotional Disturbance). These are not services, these are diagnoses. Interestingly, it left off ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder) and AUT (Autism). Also interestingly, I have decided not to fill out that portion of the form. I have no problems saying this in my public blog. I have a huge problem with the question on the form. If they need it before the lottery, that means they use it before the lottery and the only way this would happen is if they remove certain applications from the pool.

This is discrimination, pure and simple. It’s also a clear violation of my son’s right to a free and appropriate education. He has the same right to attend a charter school as any other child in this district. I refuse to fill out a form that could abrogate this right. If they accept him and then say he can’t come because I didn’t fill out the form correctly, I am willing to take them to court. These are not independent charters like the one that may not have enough money for services for Damian. These are fully funded district schools with a charter component. They already have services in place. Speech and OT. Shadow aides in most of the classrooms at the one I saw yesterday. They have to have all this for the local kids. They just don’t want non-local kids with the same issues. Screw that.

Anyway, there’s no AUT checkbox. What was I supposed to do?

Two more charter schools to check out. At least four local schools I can consider for open enrollment. If, that is, they will consider my child. I’ve been told by one parent at the highest-rated of these schools that if you have a child with an IEP, you have to volunteer at the school starting right now, make yourself indispensable. Offset your child’s negative with your own positive, in other words. Other kids, ones without IEPs? They get in no problem. No volunteering needed. I’m not that interested in this particular school for other reasons; I don’t think it’s the best choice for Damian. But is that what I have to do to get Damian into a decent public school? Prove that he’s worthy by licking their boots? It disgusts me. He’s worthy because he’s a cool kid. Look beyond the diagnosis, people.

I hate this.

Posted by Tamar at March 3, 2004 05:46 PM