Special Education Teacher Becomes a Parent

By Valerie Player, Idaho Hands & Voices

In my role with Idaho Hands & Voices, I’m often sitting next to (figuratively via Zoom) a parent needing help with a school-related matter. I’ve been a special education teacher and professional advocate for at least the last 15 years. I had the good fortune of becoming a special ed teacher before the real crisis of staff shortages, which means I chose special education, was well-trained, and made it my mission to learn as much as possible in as many areas as I could and provide the best support for children in classrooms and for parents around IEP tables.

In another role, within my family, I’m the mother of an incredibly wonderful five-year-old boy with hearing loss. Let me tell you, the view is very different from this side of the table.

Our family knows deeply how much this little guy has overcome. We see growth and progress every day. To us, he is a miracle. We know he has foibles – he can be silly (funny, creative, and having whole conversations with himself and imaginary friends), overly used to having adult attention (he’s the only one left at home). After all, he has been surrounded by adults throughout his life–family, friends, and professionals– who are all highly vested in each bit of progress he makes.

Second, we live with his hearing difference on a day-to-day basis. Accommodations come naturally to us by now (or appear so). We always have the closed captions turned on. We fingerspell new words and look up signs to support new language development. We read with him tucked in our laps, so we can say the words directly into his ears and he has visual cues. We automatically position ourselves so his better ear is near the speaker. We repeat and find synonyms for words to ensure he understands and can participate fully. And we know when he is just exhausted from coping with it all and needs a break.

But now we find ourselves in traditional school during one of the most difficult teaching situations in history. He was supported by an Individualized Family Service Plan (IFSP) in preschool, but didn’t qualify for an IEP in Kindergarten. It’s a double-edged sword that the support he needed in earlier years meant he wasn’t “behind” in kindergarten. (While I know that students do not have to be “behind” to qualify for special education, this is an ongoing discussion with his team.) My little one is navigating so much on his own. Every day he climbs those giant steps of the school bus, I worry as a mom about him in the “mainstream”.

• Does his teacher love him? (Don’t we all hope that teachers find ways to love all of our kids?)  Does she know how hard he’s trying? Does she understand we spent the last five years encouraging every sound and utterance? Thus, being quiet is new and hard for him.
• Does the music teacher know he lives to sing and dance and we spent many nights worrying he’d never know that joy?
• Does the librarian know we are reading Charlotte’s Web at home? He can retell the plot and all the characters. He feels very strongly about animals. Does she know that he’s currently in a conundrum because he LOVES bacon and well, that’s Wilbur?
• Does the PE teacher know any signs? Teaching the whole class (or school, since all students have PE) the signs for “stop”, “go” and “ready” would be so helpful and teach them something more about inclusion.
• Do all of the people remember to position him so his better ear is near the speaker?
• Did they tell the reading interventionist that he’s deaf? (I can tell you the answer to that was no.)
• What about the playground aides? Do they realize he can hear nothing from behind so yelling across the playground is meaningless and he’s NOT ignoring directions? While he might misbehave, that they should check for understanding first?

So, what can I do?  I’m advocating!

• I try to build relationships. I’m able to volunteer in his class once a week for now.
• I make an effort to know all the supporting teachers and assistants by name and make sure they know me and my son and his unique abilities.
• We do the homework his teacher sends, and I actively share where he might need more help to master a concept.
• I attend and support as many school functions as I can.
• I try to connect with other parents and host playdates to help build friendships.

To normalize American Sign Language for his peers:

• I have shown his classmates topic-related signs. They are kindergarteners so they’re a pretty forgiving and eager audience. (Yes, ideally, this would be part of his 504 or IEP, but as I said, that’s another story.)
• I gave the teacher a poster of the manual alphabet. My own third-grade teacher had one and that put me on the path of learning ASL from an early age.
• I ask what they are learning next and I try to pre-teach some vocabulary at home in spoken language and sign.
• I offer timely resources to support them, such as a page of Valentine signs.
• I donate books on hearing loss and/or with deaf characters or easy signs to the classroom and school library.
• I send helpful little tips to school – like how to enable closed captioning and the importance of hearing aids, and the overall importance of early detection of hearing loss and intervention for all children. Just as many children develop hearing loss in childhood as are born with hearing differences.

I suppose my overall takeaway from parent side of the IEP/504 table is that even a really well-designed document (and believe me, I can write amazing accommodations for kids) is only as good as the effort to implement it. I know this is an issue from the other side of the table. As parents, we need to keep checking, keep monitoring, keep providing and connecting to resources, and keep raising awareness and communicating to help our children have equal access in the classroom, especially in these critical early-language learning years.  ~ 

Editor’s note: Reach out to the author at valerie@idahohandsandvoices.org. Player is the Guide By Your Side Coordinator for Idaho Hands & Voices.

H&V Communicator – Spring 2022