When did I become "The Advocate"?

Today was the first time I participated in an IEP meeting that I requested. I can’t believe that after thirteen years of teaching I actually called one to sit in on by choice. I suck as a special needs mom. Over the summer she was in a program where the mom had to watch through a two way mirror, and I was irritated I couldn’t just drop her off and go to the mall. I enjoy my time off, all right? All the other moms were glued to the window like they were watching a soap opera. Ugh.

Another personal problem in this new role is that the word “Advocate” irritates me. I know perfectly well that in the dictionary it means, “To speak, plead, or argue in favor of.” Of course we want to do these things. However, adolescence and young adulthood in the 90s left me with images of an advocate that aren’t pretty. The first thing that comes to my mind is Hermione Granger and her little collection can for S.P.E.W. in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I can see her walking around the common room threatening people to pay up for proper treatment of house elves. Once in high school someone who will remain nameless because I just found out he reads this was making me watch Rush Limbaugh. Rush was wearing about ten different ribbons to show support for all these different causes. That was pretty funny, I’ll admit that. I also went to high school with someone who would throw your pizza slice away if you tried to eat it because the company gave money to pro-life organizations. I couldn’t eat tuna without someone screaming at me that I had killed Flipper. It did not seem to matter that I made sure the can said “dolphin safe.” According to my advocating friends, the companies were lying to sell tuna. The worst was the environmental club taking turns standing by the recycling bins making sure you put your tray there instead of the trash. I was happy to do it, but I didn’t like the feeling of being forced. I’m all for recycling, eating healthy, and saving the world. But again, if my children are happy throwing cereal and ripping up paper while I dare to watch twenty minutes of Oprah, then let us do it.

I have great respect for some people I know that advocate for what they believe in. They rock. What am I really capable of advocating? Gryffindor is better than Slytherin? Michael Gambon is the better Dumbledore? Dinosaur chicken nuggets are better than the regular ones? The Steelers are the best football team of all time? Please don’t start passing me any awards for advocate of the year.

I am not strident in my beliefs and only write about my shortcomings usually, but my daughter needs more help in the classroom. The psychological evaluations say it, the teachers say it, and I can tell that this isn’t working like it does for little Freddy the typically developing kindergartner. Therefore, I exercised my right as it is stated in the yellow parent handbook and called a meeting. In my head I went through all my years at un-named schools and thought about all the moms and the things they used to ask for. I had a student whose mom got it written into an IEP he would never have to do a drama activity. I am amazed at what a parent can do.

IEPs were a pain in my neck when I taught. I translated them and I sat in on them. One mom about three years ago had the nerve to tell me I needed to look up autism. Yes, I “walked away” from her. I had no choice if I wanted to keep my job.

I have learned that advocate does not have to mean jackass. It means doing what is best for your child. Go with your paperwork, go with your documents, and go with examples. But don’t start throwing things. They will listen without you threatening to call the governor. We added support time to her day, and that was the goal. If it isn’t working, then we can call another meeting and try again. We will see how it goes.

And if that doesn’t work, I’ll turn into a raving lunatic advocate….