“He’s reading at a first-grade level now,” I told the pediatrician, holding my breath in anticipation.
“What?” she responded, a mix of surprise and concern crossing her face. “He’s ten.”
I hesitated, contemplating whether to point out that I was aware of his age. Instead, I continued, “Well, two years ago he was at a preschool level, so he has actually made two years of progress in that time.” I expected her to acknowledge this advancement, but she didn’t.
Our discussion shifted toward various dyslexia interventions and getting him to “grade level.” I left the office feeling a deep sadness for my youngest son, who puts in so much effort yet never feels it’s enough.
Learning disabilities can be quite deceptive. The doctor is knowledgeable about dyslexia and learning differences. She understands his IQ testing and unique learning profile. She recognizes the contrast of his exceptional abilities in certain areas alongside significant delays in others. Despite this, she seemed astonished that, after over two years of educational therapy and daily instruction, he could only read simple texts on his best days.
We explored the options of public school versus homeschooling. Initially, I believed that he needed a school environment to receive adequate intervention, but I have since learned otherwise. The doctor surprised me by stating, “Given his needs, the school system wouldn’t be able to support him effectively. You might eventually get the district to fund a special private school, but that process could take years, and it may not even be the right fit for him.”
I kept my concerns to myself, thinking, Learning disabilities are indeed so sneaky.
When I returned home, I felt drained and burdened. I had received valuable advice, for which I am thankful, but I also felt overwhelmed. It felt as if we were racing toward “grade level,” which holds little significance for my children. My eldest reads at a college level yet struggles with basic executive functioning tasks. My youngest excels in history and science but grappled with reading the word ‘said’ just yesterday.
I recognize that grade level is not a suitable standard. Nevertheless, I yearn for it. I wish for quicker, more straightforward progress. I crave the ability to confidently tell anyone asking, “Yes, they are at grade level,” and to never have to discuss accelerating their learning again. The anxiety of wondering, “Am I doing this right? What else can I do? Am I failing these children?” is exhausting.
My children are not mere statistics or projects with deadlines. While achieving grade-level expectations would be convenient, it is not always achievable. More importantly, when I reflect on their growth and future success as adults, academic levels and standards become less significant.
Today, instead of fixating on the progress we haven’t yet made, I choose to celebrate my sons’ achievements. I will focus on the computer he assembled independently in under two hours and the joy my younger son radiated while reading a book, regardless of the cover that read: Step 1 Ready to Read.
Today, I will commit to doing my best for these children, which means accepting them for who they are and meeting them exactly where they are, irrespective of their grade levels.
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In summary, while it’s easy to get caught up in the pressures of educational progress and grade levels, it’s crucial to recognize and appreciate the unique paths our children are on. Embracing their individuality allows us to support them more effectively as they grow.
Keyphrase: Letting Go of Grade Levels
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