Deciding to Homeschool, Part 1: Why we refused to send him back to the public school

I haven't touched this blog for awhile.  A part of me really wants to write in it again.  I miss writing.

So, I was trying to think of what to write, and I settled on writing a little about our decision to homeschool.  Several friends and family members already know the story, but I thought I would share it here in case anyone else wants to start or is considering homeschooling their own children.

We've always been interested in homeschooling, especially when it became apparent that Evan was not  the average kid.  He struggled with speech for a long while (I joke now that I can't get him to be quiet), among a few other things, and we just weren't sure if it would be a good fit for Evan or our family.

So, he went to preschool and kinder and part of 1st grade in Ohio.  We loved the preschool and elementary school that he attended there.  Evan loved his teachers, he did so well and I think the smaller class sizes helped him a ton.

Then we moved to Las Vegas. Schools there are a huge joke. I think it's a problem with larger school districts. They become these bureaucratic monsters that are full of overworked teachers and too many students, among other things.

Anyways, the last two months of 1st grade were much different than our experience in Ohio.  Only one recess a day, an overcrowded classroom, and too long of a school day.

Then there were three experiences that changed our mind about him attending that school again.

1) The first experience was a miscommunication...of sorts.  Evan's class walked to the splash pad at the park/playground next door to the school for a field trip.  He was told that he could either wear his swimsuit and bring a towel or he could change into his swim clothes before they left or I believe when he got there. When I picked him up from school that day, he was wearing regular clothes, had completely dry hair and immediately told me that he wasn't allowed to play in the splash pad with the other kids, but instead, was told to play on the playground, away from everyone else.

Instantly, my mama bear instincts went into gear.  We had already left the school, so I waited until the next afternoon to ask his teacher why he hadn't been allowed to play in the water.  She said he didn't ask her to change into his clothes.

Okay, first of all--he has an IEP for speech!  He needed help communicating!

I get it.  She seemed like a really good teacher, but I think that there were too many kids that demanded her attention in that class and Evan tends to be quieter than the average kid.  He may have tried talking to her, like he told me he did, but she was either busy or worried about something else.

That was strike 1. I mean, it's Las Vegas in May? He couldn't have just run through the splash pad in his regular clothes? I really wouldn't have minded, but to be forced to play on the playground, away from the other kids, was a little bit much for me.

2) The second thing was pretty simple. I hated the dismissal procedures. Basically the kids were walked out by the teachers in front of the school, and then chaos happened.  Rick picked him up one day from school, and while walking in the parking lot, Evan was almost hit by a car.

Evan doesn't stray from us. I held that kids hand for as long as possible and taught him to stick to us like glue. Rick, my mild-mannered, kind and calm husband was so angry about it. It's one of the few times I've seen him mad about something.

3) This was the straw that broke the camel's back. I mentioned above that Evan had an IEP. Well, they gave me a packet of paperwork, the standard IEP paperwork, asking about our goals and filled with the parent questionnaires. Some of the paperwork asked for confidential health history as well.

I filled it out (we've been doing this type of paperwork for Evan for years as we've moved and changed school districts) and returned it to the school. I turned it into the lady at the front office and told her who it was for.

When I showed up for the IEP meeting, the teachers and psychiatrist told me that they didn't have the paperwork. That I never returned it. I was so mad. I'm not a confrontational person, but I was seething.  That was the end of it. 

First of all, where did it go?

I double and triple checked Evan's room, backpack, all over my house to make sure that I hadn't imagined that I dropped it off at the front office in the school.

So, Rick and I came to the logical conclusion that public school in Las Vegas probably wasn't the best fit for Evan. Maybe it would have been better the next year, when we were there for a full year, but my instincts were screaming for me to not send him back there.

Instead, we decided to try out homeschooling the next year, which ended up being a complete failure (at that time), but were steps that we needed to take in order to get the point where we are now.