They said he couldn't, but he can.

We had an IEP meeting for Hayden on Monday, to talk about the transition to high school. His teachers shared comments ahead of time:

Math: Hayden is doing really well. He turns in his work and does well on his assessments. Keep up the great work and make sure to ask questions when and needed.
Choir: Hayden is doing really well. His effort and attitude are always excellent. He learns his music very quickly and is a strong leader for others in the bass section. Socially he has shown great improvement this year. The times that he "needs"/demands attention are very few, and we are able to get him refocused very easily. He has developed into a very kind, pleasant young man who works very hard every day. Also, he has a beautiful singing voice!!
Language Arts: Does well in English class, participates, and takes on reading roles.

Science reported that he's usually in a bad mood because he's hungry. 😂 That class must be before lunch.

They suggested removing in-class supports for two classes. That only leaves support in two classes and a resource time for help with his homework, as compared to a self-contained class, a 1:1 aide, or support in every class... things that he used to need to be successful.

Today while reading through the final draft of the IEP to sign my approval, I saw this line: "There are no behaviors of concern for the committee to discuss." 

Do you know how big that is for us? How truly, immensely, amazingly big that is?

Behaviors used to take up half of our days sometimes. Now he has none.

During the meeting, we also discussed jobs. And college. And the possibility that he could earn an honors diploma if he wanted to go for it. We've told him that all of these are choices, and not requirements. It is up to him to choose his path. But the fact that these are choices that are in reach for him, and not lofty, unreasonable goals, makes my heart sing.

In 10 years he has completely changed his trajectory. He has proven that if you support individuals appropriately and allow them to use their strengths, they can achieve amazing things.

"They said he wouldn't, but he did.
They said he couldn't, but he can.
They said he won't, but he will."

#FUA

Hallelujah

This post was written March 2020. 

Hallelujah, indeed.

Hayden had another choir concert tonight.

He forgot to bring his music binder. This is the first concert he’s ever needed it so it wasn’t part of his routine, and I didn’t know about it to remind him. But once he realized that he forgot, he didn’t get agitated or perseverate on it like he might have done a few years ago. He was able to share with his neighbor and was fine. He found his spot with his group, remembered all of the words, and laughed when the director told a joke.

He said afterward that his favorite song was the middle one they performed. When asked why, he said, “Well first of all, I like the tune.” What’s the second reason? “Oh. It has a good message.”

The child who was never supposed to be able to speak, who couldn’t participate in crowded events, and who couldn’t answer a simple question of, “Did you have a good day?” The one who once wouldn’t let anyone sing around him, and who still struggles to pay attention when people tell him the reasons or meanings of things. Today that child stood in front of hundreds and told me afterward that his favorite song was the one with a good message.

His final song tonight ended with many Hallelujahs. I find it has a fitting message.

Good things are possible.
Hope is real.
Autism is treatable.