Virtual learning is undeniably draining. Managing endless Zoom meetings, passwords, and a slew of different applications while guiding my children through every frustrating step just to submit their assignments can feel completely overwhelming. Throw in an IEP or 504 plan, and it’s enough to push any parent to their limits. Despite my best efforts, navigating my children’s IEPs during virtual schooling has become a daunting challenge for various reasons.
For those unfamiliar, an IEP, or Individualized Educational Program, is a legal document established for public school students who require special education services under the Individuals With Disabilities Education Act (IDEA). It outlines a child’s current performance levels, strengths, and needs, sets measurable annual goals, and specifies the services and accommodations necessary for the child to succeed. Additionally, it designates who is responsible for implementing each component of the IEP.
I have gone through this process with two of my children, and obtaining an IEP is no simple feat. Each child must undergo an educational evaluation to determine if they meet the criteria for one of the 13 disability categories recognized by IDEA. One of my children qualifies for a speech and language impairment, while the other qualifies due to visual impairment combined with ADHD. I’ll be honest: each experience was long, complicated, and emotionally draining.
Managing an IEP is also fraught with difficulties. As the parent, I must ensure that everyone involved in my children’s education is aware of their IEPs. I want to make sure they are being implemented correctly and that the goals set continue to align with my kids’ needs. This is already challenging during normal school times, but the added pressure of a global pandemic makes it feel nearly impossible.
In addition to my two children with IEPs, my other two have 504 plans (which are less intensive than IEPs), and I’m barely holding it together. Keeping track of additional tutoring sessions, reading support, speech therapy, occupational therapy, and counseling appointments across my kids’ schedules totals around 15 extra Zoom sessions weekly. The mental load of remembering schedules, logins, and passwords is enough to send my anxiety levels soaring.
I often find myself torn between gratitude for my children’s access to services and frustration over the situation. Striking the right balance between being communicative and not feeling like a burden to already overwhelmed teachers and administrators is a constant struggle. Honestly, I wouldn’t be shocked if any of them view me as an overly anxious parent.
I also feel for my kids. Transitioning to virtual schooling and losing their daily routines has been tough for them as well. They often express that it’s unfair to have so many extra sessions. They’re fed up, and I can’t say I blame them because I am too.
Essentially, I’m running a one-room schoolhouse for four kids with needs that I sometimes feel ill-equipped to address. I grapple with feelings of inadequacy and guilt for not being able to fully support them as they navigate online learning. With the pandemic limiting time away from my children, moments to regroup are hard to come by. I feel utterly exhausted and uncertain about how long this will continue.
The most daunting aspect is fear. I worry that my kids will lose the progress we’ve fought so hard to achieve. I am concerned they may fall significantly behind their peers once in-person learning resumes, and I dread the possibility of regression. It scares me to think there may be little I can do to prevent these outcomes.
I must acknowledge my privilege in this situation. My children are relatively high-functioning, I speak English fluently, and I hold a B.A. in child development. I also have experience in education, which helps me understand the school structure and language. I don’t face food insecurity or job loss, and my husband is home part-time to share the load.
I can’t pretend to understand the challenges parents of children with severe emotional, physical, or cognitive difficulties face. For some, virtual learning isn’t even an option, and those parents often have to take on full-time caregiving roles with minimal support. I can’t fully grasp what it’s like to manage IEPs while worrying about job security, feeding your family, or effectively communicating with educators.
This is not a sob story or a plea for sympathy. I simply want to share my experience managing IEPs during virtual schooling to let other parents know they are not alone and to encourage them not to judge themselves too harshly. The frustration and overwhelm are feelings we all share.
There’s no one to blame for this situation. We must remember that everyone—parents, children, teachers, and service providers—is doing their best in what often feels like an impossible situation. If you’re looking for more information about home insemination, check out this blog post here. For those interested in boosting fertility, Make A Mom is an authority on the topic. Additionally, Hopkins Medicine provides excellent resources for pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
Navigating my children’s IEPs during virtual schooling has proven to be an overwhelming challenge. Balancing multiple schedules, therapy sessions, and educational needs while managing my own anxieties is exhausting. Despite my privilege, I empathize with other parents who face similar or greater challenges. The key takeaway is that we are all doing our best in these unprecedented times.
Keyphrase: IEP during virtual learning
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