As a young woman I was a Red Cross certified life guard. During the training we learned that the most prevalent cause of drowning is fear. That in their panic, people will fight the water, they will flail and struggle, until exhausted and then they will drown. We were also taught that when you approach a drowning person you must approach and reverse quickly so they don’t grab ahold of you, the lifeguard, and pull you under.
When I first became aware that my daughter was struggling in school I was told that “kindergarten is happening TO her.” She was virtually silent in her class. She was identified very quickly because I had written a letter to her principal telling her that I suspected something was not right. They assessed her and determined that she needed speech services and a consultant teacher, whose purpose was to reteach and clarify what Caroline was missing in class.
I didn’t really understand what a “language delay” meant at the time, I didn’t really understand how far reaching and pervasive this disability would turn out to be. Silly me, I thought some speech therapy in school and she will be just fine. That was my first experience swimming against the tide. I remember it like my 16th birthday, meeting my husband, getting married and having babies.
Later that year her kindergarten teacher told me, at my very first annual meeting that the recommendation was for Caroline to NOT go to the school my son went to but a different school that could better meet her needs, a school in my community but on the other side of town. Not the school my son had attended where I knew everyone and they knew me. I was taken by surprise (there’s that tide again), I cried, it wasn’t what I’d expected. This would also be my first brush with the fear. I sold this idea to my daughter, I put on a happy face and put on my big girl drawers and told my 6 year old, this will be great for you! They know how to teach you, it will be fine. Yes I know your best friend who lives next door won’t be there. Yes, I know the bus ride will be longer. Yes, I know, none of the little girls in our neck of the woods go there. But, I promised (with a mouth full of salt water, metaphorically of course) that this will be wonderful.
And in very many ways it was. It’s a great school, the principal there is a gifted educator and my girl had wonderful caring teachers. But in second grade she cried in our bathroom getting ready for school because she couldn’t make me understand what the “U shaped thingy” she wanted to wear in her hair was. And when I finally figured out that my daughter who struggles to this day to express herself merely wanted a HEADBAND, I swallowed an ocean over the lump in my throat and bought her twenty.
Over the years there were many waves, undertows and strong currents. Giving up violin because she needed more time to rehearse and we were going to a speech pathologist two days a week and struggling to keep up school work and who has time to play an instrument when you cannot even speak at grade level. Fighting my school district for a specific reading program because often language delays are tied to reading disabilities, and no, reading at a first grade level in 4th grade is NOT slow but steady progress. It’s a freaking undertow of epic proportion. And who knew this, because I certainly didn’t, I still thought eventually she would be “cured”. Trick or treating and not running into a single kid she knew because, oh yea, her school is on the other side of town. Trying to help her navigate relationships because she didn’t always understand what was going on and didn’t know how to deal with kids that were mean to her. Nothing short of trying to outswim a tidal wave.
And that brings me to the fear. EVERY parent who has a child with a learning disability is occasionally grabbed by an undertow, it is swift, savage and unrelenting and it says over and over again in your head. How do I save my kid? How do I save my kid? How. Do. I. Save. My. Kid? And the fighting and flailing is exhausting. But the fear paralyzes you and you cannot think straight or get out of your own way, never mind evading a tidal wave. The fear tastes like salt water, too strong, undrinkable, and unhealthy and it robs you of motivation. It is no coincidence that tears are salty, too.
Sometimes, you simply want to go with the flow and you can almost convince yourself that if you do it will be ok. You will not drown and neither will your kid. And then that 7th wave comes up, smacks you in the back of the head and reminds you to NEVER turn your back on the ocean.
So, I was thinking about all the experiences I have had with my daughter and I often feel like I’m drowning, but then I realize, I am her lifeguard, I have to reverse sometimes so we both don’t drown but ultimately I must go back quickly and throw out a lifeline and tow her along for a bit if she can’t quite swim on her own yet. And every once in a while I will throw out a lifeline for a kid who isn’t mine and in turn people have tossed lifelines to my kid when I am spinning in an undertow.
I have to swallow my fear, like I occasionally get stuck swallowing salt water, so I can put on a good front for her and make her believe it will be ok, eventually she will learn to swim on her own. She may never be a Michael Phelps but she can certainly tread water with the rest of us. Because, seriously treading water is a way of life sometimes.
Now if I could just convince NYS that she is so much more than a snapshot. That she is a strong candidate for independence and vocation. That a Regents exam is absolutely no good way to gauge her ability to navigate her life. If I could just make them see that they too can be lifeguards for all of the incredibly wonderful and diversely talented kids in our public pools oops I mean schools.
If our NYS Board of Regents could connect the dots on what children REALLY need in schools and expedite that. That would be a true lifesaving moment. And then just maybe, I could escape the fear and just enjoy the swim.
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