Remember that time you skipped and twirled your way into your child’s Individualized Education Plan (IEP) meeting, stopping only to sign in at the office? You didn’t even realize you were humming “Happy” by Pharrell Williams as you took your seat at the table, where your child’s team of educators waited, the glow of halos above their precious heads.
Throughout the meeting, you threw your head back in laughter, your hands clasped together in joy as the team shared countless stories of the wonder that is your child. The only shock you felt was when you learned of the new and improved resources available for your child with different abilities.
“Another hour of OT each week?” you cry, “Be still my beating heart!”
“Two extra hours of speech therapy? Surely, you jest!”
“A new aid to help with classroom engagement? STOP IT!”
What’s that? Your IEP meetings don’t fit this scenario? Hmmm. Was it the halos? Were they too much? Was it the song choice? Not a Pharrell fan? I’ll get on that.
Oh, Parents. I see you. You’ve got additional considerations when it comes to educating your kiddo(s) with not-so-typical needs.
In reality, you probably sit at a table with a handful of *usually* well-intentioned, exhausted school professionals, who are *often* limited by district regulations, time, and funding. (Or they’re refusing to use the funding for its mandated purposes–a common complaint I’ve heard.) You work through each goal, swallowing lumps in your throat as the heat creeps up your neck and into your cheeks. You force yourself to maintain composure, while trying to determine whether the recommendations from these *mostly* dedicated professionals are realistic for your child.
Seriously, those nails are perfectly manicured. Where do I get some like that?
You wonder why The Team can’t provide the appropriate (number of) resources.
You wonder how that particular team member ever got hired. (Do they even like my kid?)
You wonder if The Team will actually do the work as specifically outlined in the IEP.
You wonder what might happen if you advocate too little–will he get the services he needs? Or if you advocate too much–will she be ‘punished’ for your ferocity?
You wonder if the goals for your child are realistic.
And ultimately, you wonder whether any of these standards even matter, especially when you consider our great big world beyond the classroom–a world in which your child has more to offer than what’s contained in a meeting. A world in which all you really want to know is whether she will ever really belong, regardless of any IEP goal.
I’ve heard from many of you regarding the dreaded IEP meeting(s). Your negative, often maddening experiences have inspired me to think about what has helped me to prepare for and process these meetings in a way that feels empowering and hopeful. While I know there are many factors to consider within our specific IEP spheres, I’ve discovered–
3 Helpful Ways for Parents to Approach IEP Meetings:
- Determine your expectations. What are you hoping to gain from this time with The Team? Are you planning to work with them to explore appropriate goals for your child? Or are you already guarded and angry? Does it feel more like a battle to fight for basic services that he’s legally entitled to receive? Are you new to this whole piece of education, confused by your own role? Do you find yourself wondering if this meeting even matters when nothing seems to change anyway? When the system already feels stacked against your kid?
When I take an honest look at my expectations, I am better able to address Sam’s current needs. Taking the time to work through my own anxiety (about his development, school, future, etc.) feels empowering and allows me to better collaborate with his team in a productive way. I am no longer a helpless victim at the mercy of my own frustrations or intimidated by a group of educators gathered around a cramped table. Rather I’m an informed, engaged, and thoughtful parent, willing to be honest and kind, and ready to be a strong voice on behalf of my son.
2. Keep the day open. Whenever the IEP meeting happens (usually mornings here), I try to keep the rest of the day ‘free’ of planned stressors. For instance, I wouldn’t schedule an IEP meeting on the same day as, say, a mammogram. Or a follow-up to a recent mole scan. Or a meeting at work in which some folks will be ‘let go.’ I know life is full and you’ve got responsibilities to consider but try to keep some space in that calendar square. This will allow time for you to process the meeting, record any concerns or questions that emerged later, and even create a follow-up plan, if necessary. Leaving margin also gives you a chance to decompress emotionally, physically, and mentally. You will likely need it.
I know some of you march into those meetings in full armor, ready to do battle, feeling like you’re the only one fighting for the needs of your child. When you walk out, your chainmail is mangled, your helmet smashed, and you’ve lost your sword. You’re worn out and angry from advocating, from having to handle the same abrasive team member, from proving to the school–the system–that your child is worth more than what’s printed on paper and that he is entitled, by law, to certain services and resources.
Maybe you tiptoe in, doubting yourself, slinking into the chair, bowing to the suggestions of professionals who don’t know your child like you do. But you’re new to all of ‘this’ and ‘they’re the professionals, after all’ so you smile and nod your head like a spineless puppet.
No matter how you enter and leave that IEP meeting, be sure to carve out time afterward so your mind and heart can take a collective slow breath. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.
3.) Remember the Truth: IEPs are used to measure and track individual milestones and skills, within the context of standardized charts created by various educators and researchers. IEPs are helpful in creating and assessing *reasonable* educational benchmarks. They give us a baseline for each student, while providing specific goals for kids to work toward, which can be helpful tools. But they are just tools.
IEPs and their meetings do not measure Sam’s value as a person.
They do not reveal his hilarious side-eye or how he runs to our neighbor’s door to greet him.
They do not indicate his ability to apologize, sign ‘sorry’, and hug the one he has hurt.
They do not record his laugh or dance moves or the delight he brings to our home. (Click here for proof.)
They do not show his interest in books or the tender way he bottle feeds his stuffed bunny.
When I’m tempted toward discouragement and frustration that his scores are consistently below *average* (whatever that means), I remember that IEPs aren’t designed to measure the whole value of Sam.
He is more than the sum of his (non) achievements.
He is more than the sobering black print on white paper.
He is more than some educators might *silently* believe him to be.
He may never jump with both feet in the air at the same time or stack the ‘right’ number of blocks the ‘right’ way.
But maybe that’s okay. Maybe what should be measured can’t be found in those meetings. Or on paper.
While I’m so grateful for Sam’s team and their hard work in helping us to identify and implement appropriate goals for him, I’m learning that IEPs and their meetings don’t provide the whole picture of Sam—or who he’s becoming as a person.
So, to all of you parents and caregivers embarking on another school year and navigating those IEP meetings, I’m thinking especially of you these days. May you clarify your own expectations, make time to process, and remember the Truth that your child’s worth is not based on any meeting, professional opinion, or some predetermined measuring stick.
And if you forget, as we all do sometimes, send me an email. I’ll be here–ready to listen and help you remember.
***I realize that the IEP process [in public schools] varies widely, depending on state regulations, school districts, specific needs of individuals, personnel issues, finances, etc. There are so many factors to consider. As Sam grows and his team changes, my writing on this topic may shift. I am simply sharing what has worked for us–for Sam–in this season.
Ken Keener says
I read to the end. Some spot on advice. Thanks for all you bring to your family, and His Kingdom. You are truly amazing. You have continued to prove to me that my cousin’s child, just like me, has “married up”. ?
Katie says
Ken,
Thank you for your encouraging words. You’re too kind! Hope you’re enjoying this last bit of summer! One of these days we’re gonna have to have a taste of that Grotto’s pizza you’re always raving about….
Carissa Yoder says
I had no idea that I would emerge from those meetings sweaty and exhausted. AND WE HAVE A GREAT SCHOOL! Great tips. I need to plan the margins around my meetings.
Katie says
Sweaty and exhausted! Yes, Carissa! My hands get clammy. And like you, we have a great school. Let me know when your next IEP meeting is coming up–I’ll be praying you’ll have the wisdom and determination to create margin around it. (Sounds a bit like that whole self-care thing to which you’ve been referring!)