When Will I Feel I'm Home

I'm an alien in a strange land. This is not where I belong. I'm on a journey to my home; every day I make a step closer to that rest, that promise.

My extended family on my mother's side has been here for seven or so generations. Yet I don't feel this country is truly our home. If I saw on the news that a bill had been passed and that our family had to pack up and go because of whatever loophole the government or whoever made up, I wouldn't be surprised.

I bet we'd go, too. And without a fight. This doesn't feel like our home. We're tolerated here. Allowed. Not welcomed, not accepted. How can this be our home? When can we go home?

Chronic Illness Form

I finally gave up on having the doctor fax the chronic illness form and just took two hours out of my day, hopped into my raggedy car, and drove it to the school. I couldn't wait any longer after I got the notice today that my son's unexcused absences had reached the five maximum. If I ever find that some of those were indeed excused, it's on. Because that sounds like way too many.

Boy, the angers that rolled off me. Yeah. I kept my mouth mostly shut, however. I did a point and stare routine.

The receptionist foisted me on the nurse immediately. The nurse asks me ridiculous questions that I refuse to answer. I show her the notice. She doesn't deal with that; the district sends those out. Will the form handle that? Well, the district will take it into 'consideration.'

Then she looks me in the eye...and tells me that it's up to me whether or not I take my child home. She wants my son to be kept in school as much as possible.

Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

She just didn't know the danger she was in--no, she didn't. Then she blames the teacher for sending him to the nurse's office. I guess that's why she demands that he goes home all the time, too? Then I get a 'Does he have medications?' Yes, his inhaler! At the school. Use it! Why don't you have a brain?

She said other stuff, but I left.

Therapist - Part 3

Still looking for a therapist. Oh, and my son needs a speech therapist. Ba-da-dun.

I'll be here until they show up with the funny jackets and juice.

Speech Therapist Part 2

Yep, it's gonna be a hassle finding a therapist for my son. The one I visited doesn't take his insurance. On to the next one. They were the closest one, too. And they were twenty minutes away.

Blegh.

Speech Therapist

I need to find a speech therapist for my son to replace the one from his public school.

I wonder how much of a hassle this will be?

Do I really have to fill out this form talking about when he first walked and drooled? He's a tween now--I'm so tired of paperwork. Just evaluate him, please. This won't help you help him. He's much too old now for this to be relevant, believe me. I hope they give me a pass when I ask. They'll probably dismiss the question and give some lame excuse that means, just do it, even if it doesn't make sense to do it.

Actually, it may all be moot. I sent them an insurance question by their contact form today. If they don't respond, I'll move on. I don't have time to deal with people who can't be prompt with getting back to me.

Long road ahead.

Drastic Steps for His Well-being - Part the Second

When the school called me Tuesday, insisting that my son be sent home, I told them that he couldn't miss too many days. It wasn't right that the school send him home for so many days and then gave me a notice that he had missed a lot of days.

The girl I talked to told me to get his doctor to 1. fill out a form and send medications to school (which resulted in me sending him to school Thursday with a note telling them to use the medicines that he already has at school) 2. fill out a chronic illness form so that a certain number of absences will be automatically be excused.

So they send my son home with the illness form (and also a note explaining why they couldn't handle him at school--I insisted on it). I faxed it to the doctor. The doctor faxed it to the school. I call and confirm that with the doctor. I call the school.

"Did you receive a chronic illness form for --?"

"No, I did not."

"Oh, you didn't? I just called the doctor, and they said they just sent it?"

"Well, I'm sitting here looking right at the fax, and I don't see any form. Oh, you know what? I bet it's because the fax is broken."

Do you believe in God? Because I do. God has brought me through many a terrible situation in my life that I would have not otherwise have survived. Now back to your program currently in progress.

"When will it be fixed?"

"Probably by the end of the day. You know what you could do? Have your doctor scan it, and send me the scan in an email. Okay? Just do that."

"Okay?"
*she hangs up phone*

But I don't know her name or her email address. God's grace brings me through many a bad situation.

Drastic Steps for His Well-being - Part the First

Today I sent my son back to school...with a few changes. Around this time every year my son has asthma symptoms. The nurse calls me, insists that my son is so sick, and demands that I pick him up. They do this for about five or six days during pollen season. Meanwhile, my son tantrums because he's frustrated and suffering.

The thing is, he has asthma medication at school. Before school every year, I run around updating the form, getting new medicine at the pharmacy, and send it in to the school. At the end of the school term, I get back the inhaler. Unopened. Unused.

What in the world is going on here? If they just use the medication, he'd be fine. It works. He does well at home. In fact when I take him to the doctor because the nurse acts like I'm the worst parent on the planet, the doctor usually finds my son's breathing to be normal. Because I use his medication.

So today, I sent my son to school with a note: basically says that he has asthma and allergies and that he is to be kept inside during pollen season. Next are instructions on how to use the inhaler. Last is an indication for how often the nurse can give him the medicine.

You know, since they can't figure it out themselves. Yet every time that nurse calls me, she's giving me unasked for, illegal (that school is just waiting to be sued) medical advice on what meds might control his asthma. But she doesn't have the common sense enough to know to give him his inhaler when he's wheezing? To maybe tell the teacher not to have him outside exerting himself when the trees are full of pollen and it's windy? Oh, but she goes on and on about steroids.

The nerve.

A Rose by Any Other Name: The Problem with 'African-American'

How do you know in any given place who are the marginalized, the oppressed, or the minority? Look for the groups who change titles every five to ten years or call themselves something different than what outsiders call them. What does that have to do with anything? The ones in power decide what the ones without power are named.

And that does not even need to be directly. A marginalized or stigmatized group will eventually have its name associated with the negative things people think of that group. It's gonna happen. They're marginalized. No power means that people won't know very much about them. They won't be seen as individuals because they are segregated to their own communities, e.g. mental hospital (In this case, even where they live has a name change). The majority does not have any contact with these people unless one or more of them does something newsworthy, and that usually means something negative. A black man is arrested for drug possession. A special ed child soils himself in class. A mentally ill woman harms someone else. So that's how the entire group is labeled. Addicts. Stupid. Violent.

The JPS System and My Son...Again

The meeting that I was supposed to have had with my son's IEP (Individualized Education Program) team yesterday was rescheduled for this morning. At 8:30 a.m. (The principal kept asking me if I was all right I was so out of it.) We were trying to solidify the options for my son at school.

Basically, behaviorists will come to the school and observe my child in the class for up to 6 weeks, less if they see that his behavior needs to be controlled right away. The coordinator said that the behavior specialists were knowledgeable of autism so that's a plus. They have also decided that he shouldn't be pulled aside in the regular classroom to work on individual activities; he should stay in the regular classroom full time and be instructed one-on-one after class or after school. I'm not sure which. I guess I will need to ask when I pick my son up after school. I'm not sure what they will do about my son's behavior in the meantime, but I hope this all works.