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Homeschool Information Library
....(HEM's
Information Library Index | Special Situations
Index | Index of ADD Articles)....
Melissa Wagner
I am not a veteran homeschooler... yet. I have only one
year under my belt. But, oh, what a year it's been! In 1993, a neurologist diagnosed my then two-year-old son, Alex, as
autistic. He informed me, with a solemn face, that his IQ would peak between
65 and 70. Preposterous, I thought.
In 1995, the local school district's revered evaluating team labeled
five-year-old Alex as autistic-impaired, with a borderline mentally-handicapped
IQ. In their collective, professional opinion, the Pre-Primary Impaired
Program was perfect for my son. In my opinion, homeschooling is perfect.
I first had to deal with the red tape of the IEPC meetings. Supposedly,
I was the first parent in our district to refuse special services for a
handicapped child. The pervasive mood of these meetings felt hostile, while
I dodged friendly fire. How dare I think I know more than this fine group
of professionals? For starters, I prefer to think of Alex as gifted - not
handicapped.
Our Kindergarten year proved challenging, no doubt. But I thrive on
challenge. Before school started, Alex would not duplicate a line drawn
for him. He now draws pictures and writes words. He may be a little behind
in fine motor skills, but by whose standards? He is halfway through his
second first-grade reader, and we just started first grade.
A little over a year and half ago, this child had no concept of reciprocal
conversation. He spoke almost exclusively in quotes (technical term: delayed
echolalia). He spoke his lines, then told his partner how to respond. I
finally laid down the law and told Alex, "No more 'old stuff.' I only want
to hear new stuff." Poor kid. He did not understand why I didn't want him
to repeat the same things over and over, or tell people their lines. He
resisted for a month, then began to work with me. Today I hear very little
echolalia.
As a typical homeschooler he walks right up to adults and immediately
relates on their level. This from a child who used to scream if someone
simply made eye contact!
Let's see... he danced in his dance recital last spring... he volunteered
to go up on stage and make faces at a musical performance... he now introduces
himself to kids at the park instead of lashing out. He blends imperceptibly
in dance class and art class, and gives his undivided attention to his
violin teacher.
When I had the opportunity to speak with the Director of Special Services
recently, I told her I no longer consider my son autistic. Her look said
it all: You poor, delusional woman. She went one better, though, and enlightened
me with this little morsel: "Once a child is autistic, he's always autistic."
Darn. She should have told me that sooner. And to think I could have
placed this precious child in their hands and watched him stay the same.
Or regress.
Alex now says things like, "Mom, will I ever go back to being autistic?"
He emerges from his world daily because he finally feels safe doing so.
Would public school - or special education - have fostered that feeling?
If they truly believe once autistic, always autistic, would he thrive so?
I think not. Public school could never duplicate my love for my child,
my passion, my belief that he would recover.
I will never entrust my son - or my two-year-old daughter (also
with autistic tendencies) - to professional educators. I can't imagine
how one does that. I've watched, in awe, as my son miraculously unfolds
before my eyes. No drugs, no therapy - literally no professional help.
I believed, I loved, I allowed, and I believed some more. I will never
question whether a child benefits more from homeschooling or the educational
system. Moms know best.
Peter R. Breggin, M.D., author of Talking Back to Ritalin
Blaming the distress and misconduct of children on mental disorders recently reached a boiling point when the federal mental-health establishment claimed that inner-city children suffer from genetic and biochemical defects that predispose them to violence. In 1992 and 1993 proposals were made to focus federal research on finding supposed biological markers for violence with the aim of treating inner-city children with drugs. Ginger Ross Breggin and I sounded an alarm about these plans, creating a national controversy. We described this in our book, The War Against Children, resulting in the government withdrawing its overall plan.
While working with parents from the inner city, we found that most of them rejected the medical diagnosis and drugging of their difficult or disturbed children. Unhappily, we discovered a far different attitude among mainstream Americans, including parents and teachers in the affluent suburbs of Washington. Conditioned intellectually to accept the modern psychiatric viewpoint, they often embraced the idea that a large proportion of their children are inherently incorrigible and hence in need of drug treatment.
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....(HEM's
Information Library Index | Special Situations
Index | Index of ADD Articles)....
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