Choosing Least Restrictive Environment

We recently moved, new town, new house, and new school district. We moved for our family, believing the new district would be better equipped to assist our blind daughters in moving towards academic success and independence. Our daughters are blind. They have no light perception and were adopted. Their history is their story and is not mine to tell. However, it left them severely delayed from their peers. 

I entered the district having done my research and knowing what I wanted for my daughters. The same day that we signed our papers for our new house, we visited the school building. While we were able to take a tour with the local principal, we had to wait on someone from the local ESA to allow us to enter the ESA classroom on site. In that room I asked the question, "Where on the scale of restrictive environments would you place this room?" The answer was, "This is considered our most restrictive environment."

All children have the legal right to Least Restrictive Environment. "LRE is part of the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA). IDEA says that children who receive special education should learn in the least restrictive environment. This means they should spend as much time as possible with peers who do not receive special education." (Understood.org)

Knowing that data gave rich evidence towards LRE being the highest benefit not only to my daughters but also to their peers, we knew we wanted the girls in a General Education setting as much as possible. 

http://www.wrightslaw.com/info/lre.incls.rsrch.whitbread.htm

"There is a strong research base to support the education of children with disabilities alongside their non-disabled peers. Although separate classes, with lower student to teacher ratios, controlled environments, and specially trained staff would seem to offer benefits to a child with a disability, research fails to demonstrate the effectiveness of such programs (Lipsky, 1997; Sailor, 2003)."

"There is mounting evidence that, other than a smaller class size, "there is little that is special about the special education system," and that the negative effects of separating children with disabilities from their peers far outweigh any benefit to smaller classes (Audette & Algozzine, 1997)."

"Students with disabilities in inclusive classrooms show academic gains in a number of areas, including improved performance on standardized tests, mastery of IEP goals, grades, on-task behavior and motivation to learn (National Center for Education Restructuring and Inclusion, 1995)."

When we were called into a meeting prior to the start of school to discuss a plan and placement, I knew which direction we were going to go. What I didn't know was how hard it would be to accomplish something for which the laws have already been won. The law states placement in Least Restrictive Environment, so why would I need to fight for what was already a legal right of my daughters? 

I went alone to that meeting, as I did most meetings, and I entered a room filled to the brim with specialists, teachers, superintendents, all the cogs in the wheel. The meeting began with the superintendent of special education asking the ESA (ISD) supervisor what they had to offer us. That supervisor began with a discussion on her offer of the room we had visited together which was the Severely Cognitively Impaired room owned and run by the ESA. 

I remember feeling the blood rush to my face and realizing that this was going to be me, on my own, believing my daughters were not severely cognitively impaired. That even if they were impaired, we wanted them in the General Education rooms. And I knew by the sinking in my gut that I was going to become "that mom." The one gossiped about in the lunchroom. The one everyone says is crazy.  The mom who pushes every single person beyond their comfort zone. 

When she was finished talking, I began our battle,  "As you mentioned in our visit, that room is your most restrictive environment and it is the legal right of my daughters to be offered least restrictive first. Can someone tell me about the least restrictive environment offered to children the same age as my daughters? What services does the district offer to suppport them in that classroom?" 

I saw some heads shaking in agreement, some eyes widening, and some faces getting red. In their defense, regardless of their thoughts on my level of sanity, they began discussing how to serve my daughters in the general education Kindergarten classroom. However, it was clearly going to be a very large mountain of learning to climb for all staff involved. 

It stung. That first meeting stung. Every other typical kid in the district gets to walk in, sign up, no questions asked and join their classroom. But my girls, who were blind, weren't even offered that classroom. I had to request it against the advice of the district. Something was believed about my daughters based not in who they were or how far they had come, but in their disability. They had been stereotyped and it stung.

A few questions that I vividly remember were:

"Can you start them a week or two later than the other children?"

Me: "Will the other children be starting on time? Then yes, I expect my daughters to also start on time."

"You don't expect them to ride the bus, do you?"

Me: "Do other children get to ride the bus the first day of school? Then yes, I expect the bus to be ready for my daughters."

"I have 600....students."

Me: "And now you have two more."

Should the school have been ready and prepared for my girls? Absolutely. It is their right by the law in our country. Were they ready? No. Not even close. And I would pay dearly for that first push to start with the other children on the same day. My daughter would pay the consequence of that stubborn push. 

They should have been ready. It still angers me that based on their disability they were not ready. We call that discrimination. However, if I could go back I would ask more questions on what they needed to prepare. I would pause and ask to be shown where my daughters would go if PTSD set in. I would wait until they could show me they were fully ready to engage my girls in a safe way. Because they weren't. And all the laws in the world can't change what is reality sometimes. My daughters safety was worth more than my stance on the law. 

On the very first day of school, one of my daughters would have a severe PTSD episode and be put into a side room that was not air conditioned and had no windows open for ventilation. I would "stop in" to check on her and find her so overheated that I had to ice her body down in that room with ziploc bags of ice because she was dangerously close to a heat stroke. I would remove her and her sister from the school and call every legal counsel I could google. I would meet with the ESA, call the superintendent of our special education and listen to her cry on the phone.

They should have been prepared. It is the LAW. My daughter should never have been in danger due to their choices. But... But I was the backup. I was the one standing between my daughters and the unprepared ones. I am thankful that I went in and checked on my girls. I am thankful I could intervene. If life gave us do-overs then I would get permission to attend the first day, or have a home communication system set up in advance.

Know your rights. Know the Law. Study it, memorize it. Print off the IDEA and put it in a three ring binder. Carry it with you to your meetings. And listen up, never, ever, assume the safety of your child. Get your own self up there and verify safety and well being.

Sincerely,