I Will Never Walk My Child To School

I’ll never walk my child to school

I get to buy him uniform. I get to pack him snacks for playtime and fill a bottle of fresh water for him. I get to buy him a nice warm winter coat, new footwear, and a nice new bag.

But I’ll never walk my child to school.

I’ll never get to wave to him as he joins his line for the first time. I’ll never get to say good morning to his friends, kiss him goodbye at the gate, exchange pleasantries with other parents or pop into the office with his forgotten pencil case.

I wish I could walk my child to school.

It’s not the biggest thing to want. It’s not expensive or overly time consuming or rare to see. I just want to hold his hand or walk beside him in the morning and at 3 o’clock like other parents get to do with their children.

I never had it at the nursery stage but somehow that didn’t seem quite as bad. He’ll grow up never seeing my face just before he enters school to be away from me for six hours. Whatever his day was like I won’t ever be the smile that greets him or the hand that takes his as he leaves school behind for another day.

He’s still young and he needs me. I should be walking him to school.

There’s a wonderful school so close to us. Not too big, not too small, with such a friendly, welcoming ethos. I should have been buying burgundy jumpers to match his sister and seeing him laugh with friends in the school playground minutes from my house. When I sit in the garden listening to the children in my daughter’s school play outside I close my eyes and dream that my son is there too, kicking a ball about, chatting to friends, sharing life.

Instead I say my goodbyes at the front gate handing my son over to strangers who change every academic year. I strap him in a car seat, kiss his tender little cheek and tell him I love him. He never waves back. He rarely even looks at me.

I long to walk him to school.

We would splash in puddles. We would laugh when the wind blows our umbrellas inside out. I would listen intently as he told me about his day, his lessons, and who was star of the week. He would nag me to leave him at the gate instead of the line as he got older and we would get excited in winter walking in snow and making footprints. I know this because I get to do all of that, and more, with his sister.

Walking your child to school is so much more than just a menial daily chore. It’s bonding with your child, giving them priceless security and routine, its allowing your child uninterrupted special time to de stress and transition from school to home. It’s being familiar with their school, knowing the office staff by name,smiling at their teacher and having a chance to sort things out quickly because you are right there where you should be.

Is it wrong that I want that for my son too?

To know he has arrived safely, to walk home myself feeling at peace, to know where he is and that he is safe, to feel comfortable with the people who are looking after him and teaching him.

I’ll never walk my child to school and that simple, everyday loss is so hard to deal with sometimes.

My son has complex needs so has to go by transport to school many miles from home. I correspond with the school via short sentences in a diary. I don’t know what door my child enters the school or exits or if he even lines up outside. I don’t get to see his playground, his friends, or the staff. I have to assume he has arrived safely and he is well even when the weather is awful or I hear of accidents on the route. I can’t pop in with a forgotten snack or a form and even when I call them my voice or name isn’t familiar.

I wish it was different but it’s not.

Please don’t take it for granted when you walk your child to school. Some parents, like me, will never know that simple joy.

Today is just another morning that I never walked my child to school.

Why I will no longer attend anything at my autistic son’s school

I don’t want to be one of those parents that never turns up for anything at their child’s school, but next year I can assure you that I will be that very parent. I won’t be at any parent engagement events, or school shows and I will be avoiding assemblies like the plague! I won’t even be at parents night and my child won’t even see me at the annual achievement assembly either.

I am not a bad parent though, far from it.

This is NOT what I want but I have come to the conclusion it really is for the best.

In fact making this decision has broken my heart.

Yet my New Years resolution to not attend anything at my son’s school is one New Years resolution I fully intend to keep.

Why? Well because it is what my son wants.

I never thought my child would want to be the only child in the school nativity without his mum or dad sitting proudly watching. I never thought my son would want to collect his annual achievement award with no-one to cheer him on. The thing is though; I am not autistic, he is.

He sees the world very differently to me and this is a great example of that. I see his school as somewhere I want to be highly involved with and engaged with. I want the emotional feeling of seeing my only son being on stage and taking part in things I never thought he would be capable of. I want photographs and memories to treasure of him dressed in costumes and joining in. I am really wanting it all for me. Isaac though sees things very plainly: mum belongs at home not school. End of.

Seeing me at school, for whatever reason, causing him far too much distress. That distress, confusion and even anger, has now built to a point where it is no longer safe for me, or for staff, to have me at school events. Isaac gets so upset at seeing me and so anxious he can harm himself and others. That distress lasts a long time as he just can not process the fact I have appeared somewhere that, in his mind, I should never be. When he comes home from school his anxiety is set off again as he sees me back home and he must wonder how I was at his school 14 miles from home just a few hours before. He doesn’t have the cognitive or processing ability to understand fully that I could drive there and back (after all he never drives so how could I?) and the whole evening becomes challenging for the whole family. Things get thrown, broken, we get screamed at and he is in obvious distress. We can not ‘talk it through’ since at 9 he has no speech at all. It is awful and heart breaking for everyone.

So I have had to lay aside my own desire to see my child at school. I have had to take the very difficult decision to never see another nativity play he is in, or visit him in his classroom. It is even harder when I know he is actually excited to see other parents do these things…just not his own mum.

I could disguise myself and sit at the back of the hall I guess but what if he did somehow see me? Is it worth the upset it causes him?

I will continue to support his school by sending items in, communicating via his home school diary and giving money as required. I want much more, of course, but I hope they understand that this is the best way now. I pray they take photos that I will never be able to take and maybe even record events on video if possible. It won’t be the same as being there for me but what can I do?

I miss out on seeing my son do so much already. I miss out on hearing his voice, or teaching him to ride a bike, or even playing a simple game with him. I just never thought I would miss out on seeing him at school too.

New year, new term, and a new way of putting my son’s needs before my own.

This is the right thing for my son, for his sister and for the whole family. I have tried for five years but that’s it over now. From now on I will no longer attend anything at my son’s school and for us this is hopefully going to help make the next year more manageable and pleasant for us all.

Sometimes though I just wish autism was a little less hard on my heart.

A Day In Mainstream School For My Autistic Daughter

I am so grateful that my daughter can talk and that she shares freely with me her worries and stresses of school. This day in the life has been written with her full consent and approval to help others see how challenging mainstream can be for some children with autism and how they can perhaps ‘hold it together’ all day but explode at home. 
Morning preparation 

I wake up and come downstairs and try not to think about school too much. I get my iPad or toys and set them up just how I like it. I know I need to get dressed and eat but until things are ‘right’ I can’t think about those things. I need to do one thing at a time so please leave me alone. Let me do it my way. Constantly asking me questions is so stressful as is nagging me about time. By the time we need to leave I am already stressed and anxious.

 
In the playground

I am scanning. This is so hard to see who I need to see when everyone is dressed the same and moving around. The noise, the unpredictable movements, the bags on the ground…that’s a lot to take in for me. I only want to find my best friend and the longer it takes to find her the more I get worried. What if she is off sick? What if she has an appointment today?

The bell

Bells panic me. They mean I have to move somewhere quickly and I sometimes get stressed. Bells mean pressure and children running and they might push me over. I stand in my line and face forwards making sure I don’t look at anyone. The teachers shout about not talking and standing straight but I am doing those already and not sure what I should be doing differently. I turn to see if everyone else is doing what I am doing and now my class is pulled up for me facing the wrong way! I feel to blame. I feel so anxious. I feel different. 

 
Getting to class

I have to remember to put my bag one place, my packed lunch somewhere else and then hang my coat on the right peg. It can be confusing to remember all that while others are talking and moving all around me and the lights are so bright inside. Sometimes I wait until most of the others are in the class but then I worry I will get shouted at for taking too long! Sometimes I forget I have my school bag as it is on my back and I can’t see it! How can everyone else do this so quickly and easily and I can’t?

Class

I listen so much. In fact I listen so hard to everything that sometimes I can’t do my work because I need to stop and listen to everything the teacher says in case she is talking to me. I want to write neat because I don’t want a row but then they say I need to work faster and I can’t do fast and neat. It is hard to concentrate with others so close to me. They move about and talk and turn pages and it is so distracting sometimes. The walls have so much stuff on them, I can hear the tap dripping and I can hear people walking about.

I am scared to talk in case I get in trouble.

Sometimes I just can’t do the work. Yesterday they wanted us to do a senses poem about fireworks. They told me to imagine being at a bonfire with fireworks but how can you do that if you have never been to a bonfire before? I haven’t. They told me to write about what I would touch but you are not allowed to touch fireworks so I can’t write anything. They told me to write what I can smell but all I can smell right now is disgusting school dinners and I can’t even spell that. I just leave that one too.

Then the teacher gets me in trouble for not doing the task. I want to cry. The tears won’t come out.

Playtime

I don’t understand this bit. You play with toys so why call it playtime when there are no toys? Just call it ‘talk time’ or ‘stand in the playground time’ instead. I take my own toys out. Then it rains and we have to come inside and I can’t play with my toys and it is so confusing for me. I don’t like changing things. I get cold at playtime because it is hard to fasten my coat and if I take my time the people tell me to hurry up and go outside so I just can’t fasten it up now. I have one area I like to stand and play with my one friend. We play the same game every day. We like it that way. I want to play with others but I can’t because I don’t understand what they are playing. They don’t have toys. I can’t work out made up games like that.

Lunchtime

Lunchtime is horrible. We have a short time for everyone in the whole school to eat and they want us all to line up and take turns and sit at huge tables with other children I don’t know. I just want to sit down and get time to eat and not have to hear chatter chatter and smell what everyone else has that I don’t like. It is far too noisy and busy and yet no-one will open my yoghurt or peel my banana. I feel lost and confused and just want out of there. 

P.E

I hate PE so much. I never know what we are going to do. Sometimes we do balls and sometimes running and sometimes sports. I hate it all. I know I can’t do it and people laugh. How can I catch a ball when there is so much else going on in the same hall at the same time? I can’t focus. I am so cold. My legs don’t like not having trousers on. My arms miss my cardigan so much. I once fell and hurt myself in PE so I don’t run now because running is dangerous plus they said at assembly to not run in school so I don’t run. Then they tell me to run and I want to ask ‘but you said not to run in school’ but my voice won’t work. I want to cry. The tears won’t come.

I do like school. I like learning and I like doing work. I like having a desk and I really want to be star of the week. I like the other children though I don’t know if they like me. I want to tell you about things that have bothered me like being told to work quicker or not eating. I am tired from it all and now I feel safe. I want to cry. This time the tears will come so please let them. 

I am ok. I just need to let the day at school wash away so I can rest.

School can be hard but then everyday can sometimes be hard when you have autism like me. 

What are schools really saying when they reward 100% attendance?

I sat at the back of the hall at my daughter’s school end of year assembly smiling as the choir sang, the oldest class performed and finally the awards were given out. As a parent it is such a proud moment to hear your child’s name called out and their achievements recognised. Awards for academic achievement, endeavour, sports, star of the year and citizenship had me cheering, smiling and clapping. Then one final reward which made me so angry I actually wanted to get up and walk out: 100% attendance! 

 
What? You mean they actually reward children with a certificate for not missing a single day at school? Yes it is actually common place and, in my opinion, absolutely awful!

 
To put this in context the average attendance in my local authority this year is over 95% so hardly a huge issue. I do understand some children are absent for reasons that are unacceptable but is this really something to penalise the child for or is this not something that would be better dealt with via education of the parents or guardians?

 
So what are schools really saying when they reward 100% attendance?

 
1. They are telling children ‘we want you here even if you a sick’. 

Surely this goes against all health and safety and human rights of the child and others in the school? This is telling children that coming to school comes before their own physical and mental well being which is appalling. The entire point of education is that the welfare of the child should be central. By rewarding attendance you encourage children to come even when contagious to other staff and children or when they are in no fit state to learn. Stop and think…if an employer put attendance of higher value than human rights would we not be calling our union and going to the press? Then why do we praise schools when they do this?

 
2. They are telling children ‘school comes before your own family.’

Yes children are put down as ‘unauthorised absence’ when they are off due to a family funeral or when there is a family crisis. A few years ago a good friend of mine lost her entire home and possessions in an awful house fire and as a result of being homeless and having no access to uniform or a roof over their head the children lost out on attendance awards! That, to me, is saying to children that even if you have no home, no clothing and no bed to sleep in you should still come to school. In other words, we just don’t care about your home life as long as you attend, even if you are in no state to learn! 

My own family had a sudden death in the family this year and as the immediate relatives it was down to us to make all the funeral arrangements and deal with the estate. The problem was the relative (my children’s gran) lived over 400 miles away. Did school really expect me to say to the undertaker ‘I’m so sorry but as this is term time could you keep the body until the next school holiday?’ Life does not run to school timetables and children are part of wider families where death, hospital stays, separation and unexpected events happen. Do we actually want to live in a society that places school attendance above the welfare of our own children?

 
3. They are telling children ‘turning up is just as important as learning’ 

That sounds good doesn’t it. They will claim this is an award ‘that all can achieve’ wether they are academic or even have additional support needs. You don’t need to be sporty or overly confident or even the ‘teacher’s pet’ to get attendance so what’s the problem? The issue here is that children come to school not simply to have their name ticked on a register as having attended but to learn and develop. We are supposed to be preparing children for the future but what employer would want someone turning up to work doing nothing? If a child has managed to keep up with the pace of learning and tried their best all year is this not of much more long term value than just being there?

 
I get that schools want children there. I understand they are accountable to the local authority for attendance. I understand they want to be seen as inclusive and have awards for children that struggle academically or do not overtly shine out in any subject, but why pick attendance?

 
Make school a safe haven, a place of significance and fun where children want to be. Educate parents on the importance of helping your child to attend as much as possible. But please, do NOT reward children for coming in when unwell, for putting school above family or for just merely having their name ticked on a register. 

 
I thought we were all about having the child at the centre or getting it right for every child or whatever else they wish to call it?

 
Oh and while I am here: not one of the staff members in her school this year would have gained an attendance certificate so why should the children not be treated the same?