0 comment Monday, June 2, 2014 | admin
I had a meeting set up with the SENCo woman on Monday, two weeks after our last meeting. In our last meeting I had said, three times, that as a matter of priority Son had to be moved off the table he sat at with his two 'friends'.
Both she and the Learning Mentor (the drippy one) were fully informed of the fact that this three way 'friendship' was stressing Son out at school and that he was, as per usual, taking it out on his family at home. They've heard it all before, but I said it again never-the-less.
I was quite interested to learn then why, two weeks after our last meeting, Son was still sitting on the same table as his two 'friends'.
I was also filled with confidence, because surely after last Friday no one could say to me that Son doesn't present at school.
Oh but they can. SENCo woman was alright, helpful even, but Drippy Learning Mentor sat squat in her denial. Well, after all, my Son has never back-chatted her, he's never sworn at her, he's never taken a flying leap at her and landed a kick on her thigh, so why the hell should she give a fuck that he does it to me? Why believe me even? Why believe the other Learning Mentor who saw his less than pleasant side on Friday? She's either lying or did something to make him do it, too.
SENCo woman was also quite surprised that Son was still sat on the same table as his 'friends'. We waited with baited breath for Drippy Learning Mentor to explain how this could be, when she was supposed to have talked to Son's teacher?
I wasn't here last week, she said.
And the week before that? The week following the meeting we had on the Monday?
Oh I did speak to her. I don't know why he's still sitting on that table.
Utterly bloody useless. Totally and completely and utterly useless. The type of woman who goes on the sick with stress, because she can't keep up with even the basic requirements of her job. The type of woman who uses denial and excuses and blame to get out of doing something, because it's too much trouble, and easier just not to do it. The type of woman who spends more time pretending to look like she cares than she spends actually caring.
Husband had sent a letter in with Son to hand in to his teacher. He had spent an hour or so on Sunday morning working through Son's feelings with him, writing them down, burning the paper after to release the fear. He was scared of going into school because he was being bullied.
I don't think it's as simple as that. I think that he and his two 'friends' cannot stay away from each other and yet cannot play together, and that none of them are handing this, all of them are getting very stressed out. I think he's as bad as they both are. And I also think the school should be doing something about that.
So Husband sent a letter in with Son, saying that two weeks ago we had requested that Son be kept away from his two 'friends' in class, that it was not acceptable that this had not been done, and that he expected it done immediately.
When Son came out of school Monday night, I asked him, are you still sitting on a table with your two friends?
Yes, he replied.
I told both kids to wait in the playground whilst I marched into school. I had never met Son's teacher before, didn't even know what she looked like, but she saw me looking in her classroom and introduced herself to me.
I was annoyed but polite. Is it true, I asked, is he still sitting on the same table?
She told me that the SENCo woman had had a word with her this morning and said that one friend was interfering with Sons' relationship with his other friend, and so she had moved one friend off the table.
I found her a bit obstructive and pointless until I asked her point blank if Drippy Learning Mentor had talked to her about the whole situation. She tried to cover for her, but ultimately had to admit that nobody had talked to her until SENCo woman had this morning.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! For fuuuuuuuuuuuck's sake!!!!!!
That's not what I said. I wanted to, but I didn't. Instead I took a deep breath, and after ascertaining that this poor teacher, this temp, this woman bought in to take care of out kids as a fill-in whilst the regular teacher was off sick, knew nothing, absolutely nothing of how the pressure at school was getting to my Son and just how he was torturing his family because of it, I took the plunge and filled her in myself.
I had to summaries everything I had spent hours telling the SENCo woman and the Drippy Learning Mentor. I had to stand in front of this teacher, who I had never met before and tell her that my Son was adopted, that he had lots of issues left over from the time he lived with his birth family, that he had been in Foster Care for a short while before coming to us at the age of 6. That he found friendships very intense because of his experience of loss and rejection. That when he got stressed out at school he took it out on his family at home. That this three-way 'friendship' was stressing him out and that he couldn't handle it, and that had been asking the school for help with this for weeks, and the least I had expected was that he would be moved from a fucking table (didn't say the fucking bit).
To give the woman her due, her attitude completely changed towards me, she became apologetic and thankful for my honesty, and was honest herself, saying that she was being treated like a temp, that she should have been given this information, that she now understood.
Just what has been the point in me meeting with SENCo and Learning Mentors when NONE OF WHAT I HAVE SAID HAS BEEN FILTERED BACK TO THE CLASS TEACHER???
How angry am I that I had to stand there and speak of such personal stuff to a woman I had never met before, because the professionals who were supposed to have done it, haven't?
Being hit by Son, I can stand, being sworn at, being on the end of his constant gobbiness, but this persistent incompetence that I meet from so-called professionals, the lack of even basic help we are getting from people whose job it is to help, who GET PAID to help, is absolutely killing me. I cannot stand this incompetence, this inadequacy, this utter unproffesionalism, this being disbelieved, blamed, our trouble's minimised, trivialised, because these people can't be fucked to do their fucking job.
Fuck that school and fuck all the people in it.
Both she and the Learning Mentor (the drippy one) were fully informed of the fact that this three way 'friendship' was stressing Son out at school and that he was, as per usual, taking it out on his family at home. They've heard it all before, but I said it again never-the-less.
I was quite interested to learn then why, two weeks after our last meeting, Son was still sitting on the same table as his two 'friends'.
I was also filled with confidence, because surely after last Friday no one could say to me that Son doesn't present at school.
Oh but they can. SENCo woman was alright, helpful even, but Drippy Learning Mentor sat squat in her denial. Well, after all, my Son has never back-chatted her, he's never sworn at her, he's never taken a flying leap at her and landed a kick on her thigh, so why the hell should she give a fuck that he does it to me? Why believe me even? Why believe the other Learning Mentor who saw his less than pleasant side on Friday? She's either lying or did something to make him do it, too.
SENCo woman was also quite surprised that Son was still sat on the same table as his 'friends'. We waited with baited breath for Drippy Learning Mentor to explain how this could be, when she was supposed to have talked to Son's teacher?
I wasn't here last week, she said.
And the week before that? The week following the meeting we had on the Monday?
Oh I did speak to her. I don't know why he's still sitting on that table.
Utterly bloody useless. Totally and completely and utterly useless. The type of woman who goes on the sick with stress, because she can't keep up with even the basic requirements of her job. The type of woman who uses denial and excuses and blame to get out of doing something, because it's too much trouble, and easier just not to do it. The type of woman who spends more time pretending to look like she cares than she spends actually caring.
Husband had sent a letter in with Son to hand in to his teacher. He had spent an hour or so on Sunday morning working through Son's feelings with him, writing them down, burning the paper after to release the fear. He was scared of going into school because he was being bullied.
I don't think it's as simple as that. I think that he and his two 'friends' cannot stay away from each other and yet cannot play together, and that none of them are handing this, all of them are getting very stressed out. I think he's as bad as they both are. And I also think the school should be doing something about that.
So Husband sent a letter in with Son, saying that two weeks ago we had requested that Son be kept away from his two 'friends' in class, that it was not acceptable that this had not been done, and that he expected it done immediately.
When Son came out of school Monday night, I asked him, are you still sitting on a table with your two friends?
Yes, he replied.
I told both kids to wait in the playground whilst I marched into school. I had never met Son's teacher before, didn't even know what she looked like, but she saw me looking in her classroom and introduced herself to me.
I was annoyed but polite. Is it true, I asked, is he still sitting on the same table?
She told me that the SENCo woman had had a word with her this morning and said that one friend was interfering with Sons' relationship with his other friend, and so she had moved one friend off the table.
I found her a bit obstructive and pointless until I asked her point blank if Drippy Learning Mentor had talked to her about the whole situation. She tried to cover for her, but ultimately had to admit that nobody had talked to her until SENCo woman had this morning.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! For fuuuuuuuuuuuck's sake!!!!!!
That's not what I said. I wanted to, but I didn't. Instead I took a deep breath, and after ascertaining that this poor teacher, this temp, this woman bought in to take care of out kids as a fill-in whilst the regular teacher was off sick, knew nothing, absolutely nothing of how the pressure at school was getting to my Son and just how he was torturing his family because of it, I took the plunge and filled her in myself.
I had to summaries everything I had spent hours telling the SENCo woman and the Drippy Learning Mentor. I had to stand in front of this teacher, who I had never met before and tell her that my Son was adopted, that he had lots of issues left over from the time he lived with his birth family, that he had been in Foster Care for a short while before coming to us at the age of 6. That he found friendships very intense because of his experience of loss and rejection. That when he got stressed out at school he took it out on his family at home. That this three-way 'friendship' was stressing him out and that he couldn't handle it, and that had been asking the school for help with this for weeks, and the least I had expected was that he would be moved from a fucking table (didn't say the fucking bit).
To give the woman her due, her attitude completely changed towards me, she became apologetic and thankful for my honesty, and was honest herself, saying that she was being treated like a temp, that she should have been given this information, that she now understood.
Just what has been the point in me meeting with SENCo and Learning Mentors when NONE OF WHAT I HAVE SAID HAS BEEN FILTERED BACK TO THE CLASS TEACHER???
How angry am I that I had to stand there and speak of such personal stuff to a woman I had never met before, because the professionals who were supposed to have done it, haven't?
Being hit by Son, I can stand, being sworn at, being on the end of his constant gobbiness, but this persistent incompetence that I meet from so-called professionals, the lack of even basic help we are getting from people whose job it is to help, who GET PAID to help, is absolutely killing me. I cannot stand this incompetence, this inadequacy, this utter unproffesionalism, this being disbelieved, blamed, our trouble's minimised, trivialised, because these people can't be fucked to do their fucking job.
Fuck that school and fuck all the people in it.