Your cart is currently empty!
Why I’ve Stopped Stressing Over Grade Levels and Deficits
“He’s reading at a first-grade level now,” I told the pediatrician, my heart racing.
“What?!” she exclaimed, her expression a blend of surprise and concern. “He’s 10.”
I took a breath, resisting the urge to explain that I certainly know his age.
“Well, two years ago, he was at a preschool level, so he’s really made two years of progress in just two years,” I said, expecting her to acknowledge this achievement with a nod.
She didn’t.
Our conversation veered into the myriad of dyslexia interventions and the goal of reaching “grade level.” I left feeling heavy-hearted for my youngest son, who puts in so much effort but never feels it’s enough.
I get why he feels that way. Learning disabilities can be incredibly deceptive.
The doctor is well-versed in dyslexia and learning differences. She understands the IQ tests and his learning profile inside out, aware of the stark contrast between his exceptional talents in some areas and his significant delays in others. Yet, even she couldn’t fathom that after two years of educational therapy, he was only capable of reading “Hop On Pop” on his best day.
I understand her disbelief. Learning disabilities are tricky like that.
We discussed the pros and cons of school versus homeschooling. Initially, I believed he needed to be in school to access the interventions he requires. But I learned otherwise, especially when the doctor said, “With his needs, the school system won’t be able to support him adequately. You might eventually get the district to fund a special private school, but that could take years and I’m not convinced it would be a good fit for him either.”
So there lies my dilemma, I thought, but chose not to voice it. Learning disabilities are indeed sneaky.
Returning home to my kids, I felt drained and burdened. I walked away from the appointment with helpful advice but also with a profound exhaustion.
It often feels like we’re in a race with “grade level” as the finish line. But grade level means nothing to my kids. My oldest reads at a college level but struggles with basic executive functions, while my youngest is ahead in history and science but couldn’t read the word “said” just yesterday.
I can’t use grade level as a benchmark. Deep down, I know this. Yet, I find myself yearning for it. I want our progress to be swifter and more straightforward. I crave the ability to confidently tell anyone who asks, “Yes, they’re at grade level,” and never again have to discuss how to hasten their progress. I long to eliminate the morning and night anxieties: “Am I doing this right? What else can I do? Am I failing them?”
My children are just that—children. They are not algorithms or projects with deadlines. As nice as it would be for them to meet grade-level expectations, that’s simply not feasible sometimes. More importantly, when I contemplate who they’re becoming, what truly matters in their lives, and how they’ll thrive as adults, the specifics of reading levels and math standards fade into the background.
So today, instead of fretting over the progress we haven’t achieved, I choose to celebrate what my sons have accomplished. Rather than fixating on grade levels and deficits, I choose to admire the computer my son built independently in less than two hours. I choose to appreciate the joy my youngest felt while reading a book he picked up, rather than focusing on the words on the cover: Step 1 Ready to Read.
Today, I will give my best for these children. That means recognizing them for who they are and accepting them exactly where they stand, regardless of their grade level.
For more insights on parenting and related topics, check out this post on our blog here. If you’re interested in home insemination, you can find an excellent resource here as well as explore the options at Make A Mom.
Summary:
In this piece, Jenna Peterson shares her journey of letting go of the stress associated with her children’s grade levels and learning deficits. She emphasizes celebrating individual progress and recognizing that learning differences don’t define her children’s potential or value. Instead of chasing benchmarks, she focuses on their unique strengths and achievements, choosing acceptance over anxiety.