What is the name of your state (only U.S. law)? Mn
I just recently found something my son wrote recently for a college class that brings to light why he will not register at college office (2 year community ) for accommodations for his disability, Aspergers, very high functioning.
My son was receiving direct services until about 8th grade. He did have some issues and was upset about being in "special ed" so I had him get indirect services until graduation. He did come home in tears one day and said he hated being in "special Ed" and how he was treated and it was ruining his life. I could never get any specifics out of him, and did not relay this story to me. I made serveral calls to the school the next day or two after he came home and could not find out anything that specifically happened that day. Now after all this time I finally know why.
He has not let me see any of his papers he has written for his college classes, has been very distrustful of people. Now I know why, I happened upon this in Word program. My son does not know I read this and probably would kill me if he finds out. He has been really flexing his I am an adult now muscles, 18 soon to be 19. But maturity wise he is behind his peers, but is catching up.
This is what he wrote, I am very sure it is what happened the day he can home upset when he was in 8th grade. (It is not the whole paper) Sorry this is hard to read.
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. In my case, my experience was closer to Gregory’s; I was singled out as having a disadvantage
I remember it happening during class time, sometime in the early half of my junior high career. Every so often a guest speaker would come in and preach tolerance and other such topics. They were usually uninteresting, but a break from the typical monotony of class. One Thursday, our homeroom teacher announced Friday we would have a guest speaker talking about respecting those with Asperger’s syndrome. That’s an interesting topic, I thought. I never knew Asperger’s syndrome was well known enough to generate discrimination, let alone a guest speaker regarding it.
I had been diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome by the school several years ago, but I never believed I genuinely had it. I always felt as if my mind worked fairly normally. Of course it’s not possible for me to define “normal” considering I’ve never occupied another’s consciousness. In any case I felt as if I fit in well enough.
On that Friday the guest speaker entered the classroom. She was a short, stout woman who acted nervously, as if we wouldn’t believe her arguments. The first thing she did before speaking was announced that there was one person in the class who had been diagnosed with Asperger’s, then followed the statement with a pause. This was typical of guests, they would say that someone had it in the room, everyone looks around in curiosity, and the speaker would announce that it is in fact them who have it.
“Ís it Heather?” one student joked, followed by the laughter of her neighbors.
“No,” said the speaker “It’s David here”
My face flushed red. Amazing, I thought, the school collaborated with the speaker to announce my disability publically in front of everyone who I’d rather not know that fact.
“David, if you’re uncomfortable with this discussion, you could step out into the hall.”
I wasn’t going to have my peers consider me to both a coward and a disabled man in one day, so I opted to stay in the class. I didn’t see how they could possibly make me more humiliated than I was at that point in time. The speaker, obvious to how this could be considered embarrassing to me, described the symptoms of Asperger’s and asked me in front of the class if I experienced them. Difficulty in feeling empathy? I suppose. Social awkwardness? On occasion. Obsession with an unusual subject? Not that I could think of.
It continued for an hour, although it felt as if it were for several. Every one of my peers’ eyes were trained on me. They studied and classified my behavior; “So that’s what someone with Asperger’s looks like.” At one point in the lecture the guest speaker made us all put out notebooks on our heads and try writing our names. She said that this is what Aspergers felt like. I wondered if this activity was twice as hard for the others considering they’re normal.
“Aspergers isn’t necessarily a disability. Both Albert Einstein and Newton had it” she said as she smiled at me. If I wasn’t so mortified by the previous forty-five minutes of class I would have considered that encouragement, and pointed out Asperger’s was unheard of during both of their lifetimes. She wrapped up her speech, packed up her notes, and left the class as the final bell rung. I had never ran for the bus that fast in my life. Now these people I had known for years, who I had gone to grade school with, knew my most closely guarded secret.
I simply could not believe that the school would be okay with this lecture. Surely they were even less in tune with others emotions than myself if they could not foresee this further alienating me from the rest of my class. This is why Gregory’s narrative reminded me of my personal experience. The teacher in his story showed a complete indifference to the students feelings in order to prove a point. While the teacher in my story had good intentions, in his she did not. I empathize with his feeling of being shamed in front of his peers.
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I want the school to pay!!!I know this is extremely illegal what they did to him. If I had been told about this when it happened you can bet you sweet *** I would have been on a warpath. I am livid about this and can't discuss this with my son, and probably shouldn't bother if I/my son can't sue them silly for this. We lost our insurance and have no way to pay for counseling or what ever it may take to get him help he needs. He may not even accept help at this point. If he fails his classes he will loose the Pell Grant he received to help pay for school, will go on academic suspension. Do I just wait for his world to fall apart. By the way, I don't have money for a lawyer either.
I feel like I don't have any strength left to fight for him.
What do I do, if anything. It just makes me want to cry.
I just recently found something my son wrote recently for a college class that brings to light why he will not register at college office (2 year community ) for accommodations for his disability, Aspergers, very high functioning.
My son was receiving direct services until about 8th grade. He did have some issues and was upset about being in "special ed" so I had him get indirect services until graduation. He did come home in tears one day and said he hated being in "special Ed" and how he was treated and it was ruining his life. I could never get any specifics out of him, and did not relay this story to me. I made serveral calls to the school the next day or two after he came home and could not find out anything that specifically happened that day. Now after all this time I finally know why.
He has not let me see any of his papers he has written for his college classes, has been very distrustful of people. Now I know why, I happened upon this in Word program. My son does not know I read this and probably would kill me if he finds out. He has been really flexing his I am an adult now muscles, 18 soon to be 19. But maturity wise he is behind his peers, but is catching up.
This is what he wrote, I am very sure it is what happened the day he can home upset when he was in 8th grade. (It is not the whole paper) Sorry this is hard to read.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
. In my case, my experience was closer to Gregory’s; I was singled out as having a disadvantage
I remember it happening during class time, sometime in the early half of my junior high career. Every so often a guest speaker would come in and preach tolerance and other such topics. They were usually uninteresting, but a break from the typical monotony of class. One Thursday, our homeroom teacher announced Friday we would have a guest speaker talking about respecting those with Asperger’s syndrome. That’s an interesting topic, I thought. I never knew Asperger’s syndrome was well known enough to generate discrimination, let alone a guest speaker regarding it.
I had been diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome by the school several years ago, but I never believed I genuinely had it. I always felt as if my mind worked fairly normally. Of course it’s not possible for me to define “normal” considering I’ve never occupied another’s consciousness. In any case I felt as if I fit in well enough.
On that Friday the guest speaker entered the classroom. She was a short, stout woman who acted nervously, as if we wouldn’t believe her arguments. The first thing she did before speaking was announced that there was one person in the class who had been diagnosed with Asperger’s, then followed the statement with a pause. This was typical of guests, they would say that someone had it in the room, everyone looks around in curiosity, and the speaker would announce that it is in fact them who have it.
“Ís it Heather?” one student joked, followed by the laughter of her neighbors.
“No,” said the speaker “It’s David here”
My face flushed red. Amazing, I thought, the school collaborated with the speaker to announce my disability publically in front of everyone who I’d rather not know that fact.
“David, if you’re uncomfortable with this discussion, you could step out into the hall.”
I wasn’t going to have my peers consider me to both a coward and a disabled man in one day, so I opted to stay in the class. I didn’t see how they could possibly make me more humiliated than I was at that point in time. The speaker, obvious to how this could be considered embarrassing to me, described the symptoms of Asperger’s and asked me in front of the class if I experienced them. Difficulty in feeling empathy? I suppose. Social awkwardness? On occasion. Obsession with an unusual subject? Not that I could think of.
It continued for an hour, although it felt as if it were for several. Every one of my peers’ eyes were trained on me. They studied and classified my behavior; “So that’s what someone with Asperger’s looks like.” At one point in the lecture the guest speaker made us all put out notebooks on our heads and try writing our names. She said that this is what Aspergers felt like. I wondered if this activity was twice as hard for the others considering they’re normal.
“Aspergers isn’t necessarily a disability. Both Albert Einstein and Newton had it” she said as she smiled at me. If I wasn’t so mortified by the previous forty-five minutes of class I would have considered that encouragement, and pointed out Asperger’s was unheard of during both of their lifetimes. She wrapped up her speech, packed up her notes, and left the class as the final bell rung. I had never ran for the bus that fast in my life. Now these people I had known for years, who I had gone to grade school with, knew my most closely guarded secret.
I simply could not believe that the school would be okay with this lecture. Surely they were even less in tune with others emotions than myself if they could not foresee this further alienating me from the rest of my class. This is why Gregory’s narrative reminded me of my personal experience. The teacher in his story showed a complete indifference to the students feelings in order to prove a point. While the teacher in my story had good intentions, in his she did not. I empathize with his feeling of being shamed in front of his peers.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I want the school to pay!!!I know this is extremely illegal what they did to him. If I had been told about this when it happened you can bet you sweet *** I would have been on a warpath. I am livid about this and can't discuss this with my son, and probably shouldn't bother if I/my son can't sue them silly for this. We lost our insurance and have no way to pay for counseling or what ever it may take to get him help he needs. He may not even accept help at this point. If he fails his classes he will loose the Pell Grant he received to help pay for school, will go on academic suspension. Do I just wait for his world to fall apart. By the way, I don't have money for a lawyer either.
I feel like I don't have any strength left to fight for him.
What do I do, if anything. It just makes me want to cry.
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people. Imagine how horrifying it was for people to say "Oh, is it her?" and then insisting I had to have special food restrictions. Being singled out repeatedly led to me being an overweight teen, on anti-depressants, angry at the world, have an eating disorder - but eventually coming to terms with it.