Alicia writes:
I, like many of you who are reading this, am a parent. I have four wonderful children the oldest being 10 years, and the youngest is 9 months. My oldest, a boy, has ADHD. I refused to see the facts and he was diagnosed when he was almost 7. Yes, I medicate my son year round. But this isn't an entry about the joys or the evils of parenting an ADHD child. This is a post about how over the years, even before the diagnosis, I have stuck up for him, went to bat for him. There were times when I was the only one who did (my husband doesn't count. lol). Because at the end of the day, be it with a coach, a teacher, or even the grandparents, it's my responsibility to speak up for my son. I am his advocate.
I was brought up to question authority but ultimately do as I was told. I was taught that I needed to respect my teachers and my elders. I called everyone Mister and Misses, I answered with Sirs and Ma'ams. Even now if I met with someone who is obviously my senior, I have a hard time calling them by their first names. I don't think it is a bad way to be raised, and I am instilling this into my children. So the first time I had to step up to the plate, and talk to a person in authority about my son, it was hard. Hard, but completely necessary. He was growing more and more frustrated, and I needed to help him. It was with his Kindergarten teacher. I tried the laid back approach, "Well, if that is what you think is right." I tried the blowing it off approach, "They just don't get him" I even tried the Momma Bear approach. "I'm sorry if my son doesn't fit into your tidy little box. Deal." Nothing I was doing was helping. I felt as if my hands were tied. I mean, these people were the ones that were with him for 6+ hours a day. These were the ones that dealt with him more, and were more a part of his life than I was.
And then, it was like a light bulb went off in my head, and I slammed on the brakes. My eureka moment was when he was in his second year of the first grade, after I was blind sided by the school counselor and principal. (This memory is burned into my head. They had called me up to the school under a pretext that my son needed something from me. I walked over a mile with my youngest at the time who was barely three, in the 20 degree temperatures. Upset doesn't even scratch the surface of what I was feeling.) They wanted to meet with me, to talk about my parenting skills, and give me information about where my husband and I could take classes. The counselor also wanted to give me information about enrolling my son in counselling sessions. I lost my mind. I told them that there was nothing wrong with my son. I told them that it was the school's responsibility to provide not only academics but a positive social setting as well. My husband and I already had made an appointment with a pediatric neurologist to have him tested for ADHD. I told both of them this. They basically told me that I was imagining it, and it came full circle back to my parenting skills. The counselor even mentioned that when you are not mature enough to have a baby and raise a child, situations like this occur. I threw my drivers licence at her (I was 30), and brought up my daughter. My daughter was in Kindergarten at the time. They had no idea who she was. I made a flippant comment about that being a good thing. I asked them how it could be my parenting skills when they had no clue who she was yet they are being raised in the same house with the same rules. I told them that instead of throwing accusations around, maybe we should work together as a team for my son.
The meeting accomplished squat, but it was like the flood gates had opened, and I realized I could stand up to authority figures for my son. Holy Crap, I wasn't a person not in authority. I had the most powerful authority of all. I was his parent. I was their equals. My babes are precious and I am entrusting them to you. You damn well better treat them well. Now when we get a report from school saying that he is jerking around in class, I make sure his teachers know that I won't take any bullshit from them. If he is screwing up (he does like to be the class clown) then take care of it. If it has something to do with his ADHD, I will take care of it. But don't you dare label him. Don't you dare be nasty to him. Don't you dare treat him with anything less than the respect he deserves. I know he gives it to you. That is the one thing I have heard over and over again, how polite and respectful my son is, and he deserves the same in return. Don't get me wrong, I know that there are teachers out there that will not like my kids. Coaches out there who will grumble when they see their names on the roster, but the fact of the matter is, it doesn't matter if you like my kid or not.
Part of the definition of the word advocate means: 1) a person who speaks or writes in support or defense of a person, cause, etc. (usually fol. by of ): an advocate of peace. 2) a person who pleads for or in behalf of another; intercessor. That is what we have to do. We have to stand up for our children.
Because honestly, if you aren't your child's advocate, who is?
To read more about what she has to say follow her here at http://thereare4.blogspot.com/, to learn about her family business -- check out -- http://www.fracascleveland.com/.
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