John's behavior at school has grown worse, and the teachers are at wits end. To be fair, he has never done well at school, not for more than a week or two. This is the first school that is honest in their evaluation. Good for them. Now for the bad news. Their "solution" is futile, and even dangerous, because they don't understand John's disorder.
There is a program nearby that is called Max. (This is an acronym; I don't remember for what.) I've done some research, and Max has indeed helped many kids in middle school and high school. It concentrates on behavior modification and anger management, while providing traditional academics. John's teachers want to transfer him to Max. If you're still awake after all these pages, then you should be able to predict our response. We declined, politely, but emphatically. We can implement behavior mod as well as anybody, and it doesn't work. A stricter variant will not work either, and could do harm. For example, they have a time-out room at Max. Ok - they had a time-out room in his elementary school too. When John was placed in the room he banged against the walls and the door, and ripped his shirt, and broke his glasses. He did not "calm down". I'll say it again, for the hundredth time; his disorder is biochemical, not emotional. Every day he does the best he can. If he's not behaving, he can't behave, and no amount of redirection or counseling is going to change that. End of story.
His teachers and staff think I'm nuts. They don't believe a word of it. They think John is acting out, and he can surely be redirected. I am merely mollycoddling a troubled youth. They see him every day, they see his darting eyes, they hear his distorted speech, and they just don't get it. This is me, shaking my head from across the internet? Am I the only one who sees?
Although his teachers are clueless, they are kind and caring, and they have done a hundred favors for us, and for John. So we decide to give them something in return. We take John to Dr. Ferguson, a neuro-psychologist, for an independent evaluation. This is not someone we picked out of the phone book - we went to Dr. Ferguson on the school's recommendation. that's fine; I think he'll be impartial. He has no vested interest. After three visits, here is his diagnosis, somewhat paraphrased.
| John's disorder is primarily biochemical. He is not emotionally impaired in the traditional sense. Obviously he is sad and frustrated, because his life isn't going well, but if the biochemistry were fixed, there would be few emotional issues to deal with. Further counseling is a waste of time, at least for now. You can bring him back to see me if you want an expensive baby sitter. |
I am stunned. This is a bit like an honest auto mechanic. "Your car is fine - no need for repairs - here are the keys - off you go." This man could have taken me, and my insurance company, for a ride, for session after session - but he didn't. Needless to say, I'm impressed.
As we left his office for the last time I asked him about the best course of action, while we are fine-tuning the formula. How should we handle school, when some days, or hours, are better than others? Here is his response.
| A program like Max, as you describe it, would not help John, and it could do serious, irreparable harm. I wouldn't go there. However, home schooling might be a great option, if you are able to do that. |
Even if I receive zero reimbursement from my insurance company, it was worth it - every dime. This man, who is an expert in neuro-psychology, saw in three visits what most people refuse to see, even after years of observations. When John isn't in control, he really isn't in control, and when he is in control, he's fine, and he just doesn't need all this psycho-babble. Let's shout it from the rooftops. "I told you so!"
I take these results back to school, and the teachers are not impressed. This is ironic, since they promoted Dr. Ferguson with high praise. Suddenly they don't like him any more, and they even toss a few disparaging remarks in his direction. It reminds me of Bush firing Lawrence Lindsey, who told him the Iraq war would cost north of 200 billion dollars. That's not what he wanted to hear, so bring in the next advisor! (The war actually costs more like <a trillion>.) Sorry for the diversion, but Bush 43 reeks of stupidity and ego.
In any case, John's teachers still want him to go to Max. It's the only tool in their arsenal. Again, these people have done so many favors for us, and made so many accommodations for John, that we agree to visit the Max school. We talk to the principal, and the program is exactly as we expected it to be. I'm sure it helps children with true emotional disorders, or kids who come from difficult homes or troubled backgrounds, but John does not belong here. We leave, 100% sure of our decision, as opposed to 99% going in. And we can tell everyone we gathered all the information before taking the next step. Fair enough.
While we are deciding what to do, John reconfirms the carb hypothesis by running an experiment in noncompliance. We told the girls many times that they need to hide any candy that they might acquire, from school, from anywhere, in their rooms. Well John is resourceful, and one night he found, and ate, some 60 carbs worth of cookies just before bed. The next day I had to hold him down to keep him from climbing out onto the roof. And when I held him he became so frightened and paranoid that he fought with me as though his life was in danger. (I hope he doesn't get much stronger.) After it was over, it still wasn't over. He kept threatening to call the police and report child abuse. I have no idea what they would do if he actually made the call. This was interspersed with talk of hurting himself. By the next day he was almost back to normal. Until the causal connection is cemented in his mind, compliance will always be an issue.
I think the reality of his school telling him, "You're not succeeding here." will help in this regard. So I do indeed appreciate their honesty, because it's the truth, and John needs to hear it. He just can't eat this stuff, and I have a feeling he's been getting it more often than we know. Even if it is not in the house, he rides his bike to the party store, buys treats with his own money, and eats them there. It's tough being on a diet, whether you're a kid or an adult.
We need to hear the truth as well. The girls can't stash any treats in their rooms, period. And you know what, they'll survive just fine without the junk food. At the same time, we, as parents, can't afford to take shortcuts either, in the form of restaurants or convenience foods. We just can't.
So - what's the next step? The best solution is probably home schooling, at least for a while, as suggested by Dr. Ferguson and at least a dozen readers of this blog who have children with similar disorders. John's teachers are appalled. They think they have failed, or they think we couldn't possibly do it well - like an untrained home-owner trying to fix his leaky pipes. There is some truth here; we're not particularly good teachers. But we're smart enough to know when he can and can't work, and when he can't, he can go for a bike ride, or walk the dog. We can offer more flexibility in his schedule and curriculum. I think it's the right thing to do. I've thought so for years, and with the endorsement of Dr. Ferguson I am even more convinced. John really doesn't like the idea, but it's probably for the best.