“I think he’s reading at a first-grade level,” I shared with the pediatrician, holding my breath in anticipation.
“What?!” she exclaimed, her face a mix of surprise and concern. “He’s 10.”
I paused, suppressing the urge to remind her that I am well aware of his age. “Well, just two years ago, he was at a preschool reading level, so he’s actually made a significant two-year leap in that time,” I explained, hoping she’d acknowledge this progress.
But she didn’t.
Our conversation quickly shifted to various dyslexia interventions and the necessity of getting him to “grade level.” I left feeling heartbroken for my youngest son, who puts in so much effort yet often feels it’s insufficient.
I completely understand his feelings. Learning disabilities can be quite elusive.
The doctor was knowledgeable about dyslexia and learning differences. She understood his IQ testing and learning profile, recognizing the stark contrast between his remarkable abilities in some areas and his struggles in others. Yet, despite over two years of educational therapy and daily instruction, she still seemed shocked that he could only manage to read “Hop On Pop” on particularly good days.
I understood her surprise; learning disabilities really can be deceptive.
We discussed options between traditional schooling and homeschooling. I once believed that he needed to be in a school environment to receive the necessary interventions. However, I’ve come to realize otherwise. The doctor surprised me again when she remarked, “Given his needs, the school system won’t be able to provide adequate support. 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 the best fit for him either.”
I reflected on this dilemma, but didn’t voice it. Learning disabilities are indeed sneaky.
Returning home, I felt drained, burdened by the weight of it all. I left the appointment with valuable advice, for which I am grateful, yet I also felt overwhelmed.
It often feels like we’re racing toward “grade level,” as if achieving that benchmark is the ultimate goal. But grade level means little to my children. My eldest reads at a college level but struggles with basic executive functioning tasks. Meanwhile, my youngest excels in history and science yet couldn’t read the word “said” yesterday.
I know that grade level shouldn’t dictate our expectations. Yet, I still find myself yearning for it. I desire for progress to be swift and straightforward. I want to confidently tell anyone who inquires, “Yes, they are at grade level,” and end the ongoing conversations about accelerating their growth. I want to silence the panic that creeps in both morning and night: “Am I on the right track? What more can I do? Am I failing these children?”
Ultimately, my children are just that—children. They’re not mere equations or projects with deadlines. While it would be convenient for them to reach grade level expectations, sometimes that’s just not feasible. More importantly, when I reflect on who they are becoming and what will ultimately matter in their lives, the specific reading levels and math standards become insignificant.
Today, I choose to shift my focus away from what we haven’t achieved and instead celebrate what they have accomplished. I choose to recognize the computer my son built all by himself in under two hours and the joy my youngest felt while reading a book, disregarding the cover that reads “Step 1 Ready to Read.”
Today, I will do my best for these amazing kids. That means seeing them for who they are and accepting them exactly as they are, regardless of grade level. If you’re interested in more insights on parenting and education, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination at Rmany. Additionally, for those exploring fertility options, Fertility Booster for Men can provide helpful information, and you can find more about home insemination at Intracervical Insemination.
Summary:
In this article, Jamie Carter reflects on the pressures of meeting grade-level expectations for children with learning disabilities. Despite the societal focus on academic benchmarks, she emphasizes the importance of recognizing her children’s unique strengths and achievements. By choosing to celebrate their progress rather than fixating on deficits, she aims to foster a more positive and accepting environment for their growth.