Had Seth been assigned an IEP early on, we might have been able to prevent what eventually happened. That said, this wasn’t entirely the school’s fault. I dropped the ball, too. I was exhausted after years of advocating for Seth, and I was hampered by my own neurodivergence (and iffy executive functioning skills). Besides, until the second quarter of junior year, Seth didn’t need additional accommodations as far as his grades were concerned, but when he stopped doing his schoolwork altogether senior year, the school should have contacted me to develop an IEP. They didn’t.
On the other hand, when Seth stopped doing homework sophomore year, I should have immediately insisted on getting him an IEP, but I didn’t. I did request that a paraprofessional be assigned to help Seth handle his schoolwork, but the school said they didn’t have the funding to provide one. I shouldn’t have taken no for an answer. I should have contacted Kennedy Krieger (where Seth was diagnosed), to inquire about an autism advocate, who would have had far more resources and knowledge than I had. I should have been more proactive.
But enough “should-ing” on myself.
When Seth stopped doing his homework, he made it clear he wanted to prioritize learning over getting good grades. In an email to his history teacher, Seth said:
My main priority: to learn despite how much I work. I learn from things we do in class; not at home. When you teach, that's when I learn; not when I read, not when I annotate, not when I write for ID terms, but when you teach, when we discuss, and when we talk. And I best learn when you go on those tangents, the small things that lead up to why things happen in history, not just what happened.
If you asked me to give a dissertation or presentation to the class I could excel. I could do it because that is my strength. I could do better at that than how I do with reading and writing in this class.”
Seth-ism: Age 9 Friend: “Seth, do you like school?” Seth: “It’s not particularly my thing.” |
By the middle of senior year, unbeknownst to me, Seth was failing every class but one. He was skipping school most days. To be honest, he had completely given up. This was a far cry from the kid who had gotten straight A’s in the ninth grade. Two months before the end of senior year, I was finally contacted by the school to schedule a Section 504 meeting. I really didn’t see the point that late in the game, but the school insisted. At the meeting, they informed Seth’s father and me that Seth still needed to pass two classes in order to graduate, but he was failing both. I was shocked. Why hadn’t they contacted us sooner?
I scrambled to email the teachers of the two classes. I explained the issue and begged them to find ways for Seth to bring his grade up to a “D.” His English teacher responded right away and was very willing to work with us, but his Latin teacher didn’t respond.
Seth was really struggling with Latin, despite being tutored twice a week. He told me he'd had several exchanges with his teacher, explaining his issues with understanding the structure of the language, but even with a last-minute conference with Seth, the teacher, and a member of the administrative staff, Seth and the teacher were unable to see eye-to-eye, and this caused Seth to shut down and stop caring about school altogether.
Seth says:
“I felt my teacher was a good teacher, just not the right one for me; he only knew how to teach that subject the way he did. When I asked questions, it would often lead to miscommunication, followed by arguments. In an ironic twist, I think my questions and requests were too overwhelming for the teacher.
I advocated for myself, explaining that I need to learn by understanding the rules. He thought my understanding would be sufficient if I committed more time, worked harder and practiced more, but I didn’t think so. That’s not the way I learn.
We’d butt heads often, which increased as time went on – like a standoff. The Colosseum wasn’t big enough for the two of us. By the end of it, I explained that comprehension isn’t instant. The final argument ended with the teacher explaining that while philosophically, that's true, it was academically invalid.
My point of view was we weren’t stuck because we wouldn’t budge, but because we couldn’t adapt. I didn’t have the resources to succeed, so I failed. My teacher didn’t fail me; public education just didn’t ensure my success.”
Seth needed the teacher to diagram a sentence in Latin, the way it was done in his English class. If the teacher had been willing, Seth might have been able to pass Latin. But that didn't happen. That said, I want to make it clear that I am not trying to cast the teacher as a villain, nor the school system as public enemy number one, but what happened to Seth wasn’t right, and it shouldn’t happen again.
The real kicker is that Seth’s overall grade point average was 2.91 – nearly honor roll level – and yet, he didn’t graduate. He prioritized learning, and yet, he failed. Something is wrong with this picture. It may be too late for Seth, but I am hoping this story helps other parents going through a similar situation. Our kids – all of our kids – deserve a good education in an environment that works with them, not against them.
The good news is that after hearing Seth and I speak about his situation in an “Autism in Focus” Panel Discussion in April 2024, representatives from our county put together a Disability Issues Advisory Board to look into matters like this one. That’s a step in the right direction. Let’s keep moving forward.
Feel free to comment on this post and get a dialogue going.
Beautifully written, insightful, and full of hope for better solutions for schools and kids learners like Seth. ❤️ Reading his explanations to his teachers both impressed me and made my teacher-heart melt! I wish I had been able to see him in action in the classroom! His intellect, self-awareness, and humor shine through so clearly!