Monday, June 6, 2011
Story of the Day 6/6/2011
My daughter, Sarah, is taking a math course, this summer. It is the first of two semesters of Algebra 2. She is also hoping to complete the second semester of the course, this summer, but of course, first things first, and first semester, first.
Generic children enrolled in Sarah’s school have three options. They can take the class during the school year, they can take it on-line, through an accredited on-line program, or they could take it during the school’s summer session.
Sarah is not generic. She is Deaf. She is also Jewish. Because she is Jewish, she cannot take it during the school’s summer session. The summer session has rules. One of the rules is that if you miss two days of the session you are automatically failed. Shavuot, which is a Jewish holy day that, this year, is on June 8th and June 9th, would require her to miss two days of the summer session for religious observance. Therefore, because she is Jewish, she cannot take the classes during the summer session.
That leaves two options, Sarah could take the class, this coming school year but she was very bored sitting through Geometry, this past year. She sat through the 50 plus minute class, every day, and except for a brief period of good interpreting, got to watch the interpreter make a fool out of him or herself while deriving absolutely no educational benefit, at least regarding math. She did learn a number of rude and crude sexual signs, but the teacher didn’t test on those.
She also learned how to measure the surface area of vaginas, right vaginas, and a slew of other interesting things that I never learned when I took Geometry, but unless she plans on becoming a gynecologist or a porn vidoegrapher, relatively useless information.
As result, it seemed like the best option was to have her enroll in an on-line course.
There are numerous on-line high school programs, but one that is run through Indiana University (that public university that just happens to be in the same state in which we live) has one that was recommended to Sarah by her high school. Sarah put in the paperwork to take the courses from them (Algebra 2, semesters 1 and 2) pre-approved and we waited, and waited and waited. They were approved but somehow the school forgot to notify us. At any rate, after nagging them a bit to double check the status of the request, I ordered the textbook for the course. I did this before enrolling Sarah because, since she is largely expected to teach herself from the textbook, if the textbook was awful, why was I going to pay a lot of money to register her for the course? As it turned out, the textbook is a good one, wit very clear explanations, and I enrolled her to take the class, just as the spring semester ended.
Sarah has made a schedule for herself, so that she will complete both semesters of the class, this summer, and be ready to take pre-calculus, at her high school, starting this fall semester. She sits at the kitchen table and grunts and groans as she does the problems. Occasionally, I hear a noise that is something vaguely resembling “Get your butt over here and help me!” as said by someone who doesn’t actually speak. So, I get my butt over to the table, and explain something. As she finishes each section of each lesson, she goes on-line and does the problems that are up. Then she goes back to the kitchen table to grunt and groan some more.
Sarah has just finished Lesson 2. There are 4 lessons, a review, and then a midterm exam. Being a very schedule oriented person, Sarah was concerned about how the exam is done. I told her to email her teacher and ask. The teacher, who only exists to us as a name and an email address happens to be very prompt, and replied in less than 24 hours. Midterms and finals are proctored…Okay, that was helpful, so I called up the office for the on-line program and asked, “Where?” At a local college or high school or at the public library. I voted for the public library. It is right near a Starbucks.
Then, I asked an important question, “Have you received the copy of her IEP?”
The woman I was speaking with very kindly ran off to check, while I waited on the phone. In almost no time at all, she returned to let me know that they didn’t have it…okay, at least I knew whom to contact. I quickly sent off an email to Sarah’s guidance counselor. And she promptly emailed me and let me know that she had previously sent it, and they had definitely received it, since they had called her about it, but she was sending another copy their way.
Shortly after this, I received an email from a different person at IU high school; they had received the original faxed IEP, but had been waiting for some information and so had not logged it.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Then I sent the following email:
Dear Ms. B,
Thank you for the information. I was concerned, and had called, this morning, because Sarah has never taken an IU high school class before and I was concerned about the set up for taking the midterm examination; and I could envision her showing up and there being no interpreter. (I also called because I was not sure where I would need to take her for the exam- she is not ready, she has two lessons left before it, but she has her schedule posted on the refrigerator ad is working towards it.) I also assume we need to give you more than the standard amount of advanced notice before she can take the exam, so you can arrange for an interpreter?
Thank you, Cassia Margolis
It turns out that I breathed that sigh prematurely.
Apparently, this public program, even though I had previously informed them (when I enrolled Sarah, which I did over the telephone) that Sarah is Deaf and has an IEP and I requested the fax number, so it could be sent, didn’t understand that Sarah is Deaf.
I received this very interesting response:
Dear Cassia,
Hi. I am a highly paid school administrator w 25 yrs experience in coordinating programs for special ed students. I have received ur daughters iep & filed it into a very large drawer. I did not read it because all ieps are the same. Please have ur daughter contact me if she has any challenges & I will speak very slowly to her, the same way I do with the learning disabled, wheelchair-bound, blind, and asthmatic students.
Have a great summer! :)
Okay, I did NOT receive that response from the school, I received it from Lynne, after I sent her the response I received. She nicely summarized the previous two emails from them, in a rather insightful manner.
In truth, the actual response from the IU program was “interpreters are too expensive!” although, that is also a paraphrase, the original actually said: “The problem with an interpreter (I assumed you had one already) is that it is NOT easy for us to locate one and it will cost $$$$ for us to do so. Where are we then?”
I thought, “Should I explain to this person about the ADA?”, “Should I quote to her from the brochure from the program?”, “Should I scream?”
Well, instead I forwarded it to Lynne, who made me laugh. For the moment.
Of course, we still have to arrange for Sarah to take the exams…
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