Ad Blocker Detected
Our website is made possible by displaying online advertisements to our visitors. Please consider supporting us by disabling your ad blocker.
For a parent of a child with special needs who may be limited in their ability to verbally express what transpired throughout their school day, communication between teacher and parent is key.
When I have a conversation with my son, Leo, who has autism, about his day, it might go like this:
Me: Leo, your note home said you had a good day?
Leo: Good day? (This is an echoic response.)
What did you learn today?
Me: Did you eat all of your lunch?
Leo: Lunch? (This is also an echoic response.)
Me: What was your favorite thing that you did at school today?
Me: I’m so proud of you, my Leo.
And I am, always, infinitely proud of my boy.
There will come a day when he will tell me about every facet of his school day, and I will bask in every glorious detail. But for now, I must rely on his school and on his teacher to help me fill in the blanks.
That communication is so important. The details are necessary… Vital.
It is the difference between feeling like I’m stumbling about in the darkness, each trepid step marked with uncertainty, and feeling like I’m on a clearly lit path.
Every day, I send Leo to school for roughly seven hours. And when he returns, I rely on those details from school to give me insight into his day. So that I can talk with my child about the moments he expressed joy, the challenges he faced, what sparked his interest.
So that I may navigate my way through his world with him through that clearly lit path, rather than in the darkness, hands outstretched, grasping at anything that will help me understand what my boy sees and feels while I’m not there.
Via : themighty