Finding the
appropriate school for Mighty Z has been an adventure to say the least.
When it was
time for Mighty Z to go to school at age 3, she went through a public school
program called Head Start in Las Vegas.
It was amazing! Mighty Z wasn’t talking,
but the teacher taught her sign language and encouraged Mighty Z to make some
sort of noise. Mighty Z grew leaps and bounds with this teacher and with
the program, so when my husband decided that he should change careers and move
to Maryland
right outside DC, I thought that Mighty Z was well on her way to amazing
opportunities.
Apparently,
living right outside D.C. doesn’t mean that your child will get a great
education. Even though Maryland
is ranked one of the top schools in the nation, they forgot to weigh in the
special needs part of the public school. Mighty Z was not taught anything and
was allowed to behave however she wanted to, and as a 4 year old that was right
up her alley. The IEP meetings were a
joke. The lead teacher and speech
therapist didn’t know sign language and therefore didn’t help Mighty Z at
all. At one time both teachers tried to
give Mighty Z a keyboard that would speak for her, thus making sure Mighty Z would
never need to learn to talk. They claimed it would be easier for all!
I quickly pointed out that it would not make
Mighty Z’s future better. I was mad as
you can imagine, and I took matters into my own hands. I began teaching Mighty Z at home and I took
her to private speech. In a month Mighty
Z was talking in full sentences. I blame myself for not pushing Mighty Z to
talk sooner but hey, I was focusing on trying to keep her alive, and like so
many other things, the talking fell to the way side until I had time and
motivation to get it done.
After my brief introduction to the public school system in Maryland, I placed Mighty Z in Catholic School. There at St. Martin of Tours Mighty Z
blossomed. I have never been so proud of a school as I was of that little
Catholic school in Maryland. Not only did they teach Mighty Z, but they
taught me as well about what Catholics are really about (I grew up
nondenominational). I still feel a sense of pride to say that I was part of
something as wonderful as St. Martin of Tours, so of course I wanted to
continue the Catholic education for both Lala and Mighty Z when we moved to Dallas.
I will admit that I clustered all Catholic Schools into a big pile and
thought they were all alike. At St.
Monica’s in Dallas
I was told many horrible things about Mighty Z-- none of which were true and some
of which still haunt me to this day. Having the Principal and the counselor
tell me that they didn’t care for Mighty Z’s disease was the least of the
things they said. They left voice mails on Mighty Z’s tutor’s phone about how
that I was in denial, difficult, and delusional, and that Mighty Z was
retarded. How could a counselor say those things about a little girl in the
second grade? After many years I found out why they said that; it was
because Mighty Z had colored in all the bubbles during her standardized test
(ummmm, she was in second grade for crying out loud.)
St. Monica’s accused the
Nun at St. Martin of Tours of being a liar, and as I didn’t grow up Catholic I
wasn’t positive it is a no-no to call a nun a liar, but I think it is. So we had to find another school that would
see the treasure I felt that Mighty Z was.
Once again I
found a gem of a little school, a school that did view Mighty Z as a treasure
and thought that Mighty Z was a smart little cookie. And up until this year, I
had visions of staying at Our Redeemer Lutheran School until sixth grade, which
is when the school ends. This year was different. The teacher was great,
the school was great, and they all still felt the same about Mighty Z. What changed was that Mighty Z was being
bullied! A little boy was punching her
in chest which is where her life support machines are. Even though Mighty Z’s friends stood up for
her and protected her, they were punished for doing so. I know what you’re
thinking! Where was the teachers? Right?
Well, I will say that kids are smart and many times things happen when
the teacher is not looking.
Was this
child who was hitting Mighty Z punished?
I honestly have no idea, but even though we told the teacher, the
bullying continues. Mighty Z has never
backed down from a bully but this time it hurt her heart and she was scared.
Sometimes all you can do is leave a place to protect your child. I am leaving
this year with a heavy heart. Even
though this new normal world of special needs has rearranged my dreams and
hopes, it still hurts to have this dream of Mighty Z’s school come to an end in
such a heartbreaking way. Mighty Z has started counseling to talk about this
bully and also the fact that she has to go through so much to be alive.
Even
though I have a heavy heart about Mighty Z’ s School, her daddy and I have
looked into new opportunities for Mighty Z, for a place that can help Mighty Z
succeed even more. And we think we found one.
I feel good about sending Mighty Z to Dallas Academy; it is a school for
children with ADD and ADHD, and even though Mighty Z does not have either ADD
or ADHD, Mighty Z still has to work extra hard to stay up with her peers at Our
Redeemer. I am hopeful that Dallas
Academy can push Mighty Z
even further and give her the tools not just to keep up, but to soar. All
things happen for a reason, and even with the sadness I feel, I know that we
are making the right choice.
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Walking this “new normal” road of special needs is hard on every account. I know that once Mighty Z finally made her way home from hospital after spending her first six months of life in the NICU, what lay behind me was in many ways a safe haven. Although I longed to have her home with our family, at the time I had no idea what the reality of having her home would be like…and the overwhelming responsibility to care for, and to keep alive, a baby that was as medically fragile as Mighty Z was at six months old. I truly felt that I could not do this job, and although I never told a soul of the insecurities that surrounded me, I found true courage, not in a loud roar, but it was in a tiny voice inside my heart saying I will do this again tomorrow as I laid my head against my pillow and I cried myself to sleep every night for months and sometimes I still do . That whisper kept saying, “I will do this again.”
