Yesterday we had Keaton's second BLAT meeting at the school. A blat meeting is basically a learning assessment by different teachers, the school nurse, principal, guidance counselor's and other faculty. As they say it takes two to tango and you cant get testing until after your second meeting. My mom wisely suggested I bring my Aunt along, as she had to teach her own class and my Aunt is a retired teacher. Best idea ever!
Aunt Sandra started teaching when she was 19 years old. At the time there was a serious teacher shortage and schools were recruiting students from the local college to teach while they were still earning their degrees. She continued to teach into her 60's only takng a few years off to raise her own children and get them into school.
And pardon my french but she is one bad bitch! Classy as can be , but don't you mess with her when she knows what she is talking about and is determined to get it done. It used to make me chuckle to walk down the hallways at school, yes where she taught, and hear othe kids say -' Gosh that Mrs. R she's tough' because to me she was my aunt, my godmother, the place i was going to runaway to when I got mad at my parents as a little girl. But She is precisely that - tough.
Back to our meeting. It finally seemed like we were getting at least somewhere. After a year of phone calls and our first meeting, which if I am honest felt a little like lets humor her and maybe she'll go away, there was some action being taken. Keaton is going to get some in classroom consideration and be put on the list waiting to be put on the list for testing. Like a starving person fighting for crumbs, I am just relived at least something more than the nothing was going to be happening.
It occurs to me now and I am almost appalled at myself for grasping at the straws I was being handed. I feel a disclaimer is appropriate here- I want to be very clear that my son has some really amazing teachers - both in that room and in his family going to bat for him and I know an he knows that they are fighting for him to. There are those however who have their own adgendas and in my opinion those agendas are coupled with alot of excuses as to why it is taking this long to test my child and find out what will work for him so that he can read the words on the pages of the books he loves so much. I was being told he had to wait that this had to be signed and that had to be done before he cold get moved onto te list of childen in line for testing.
And then Aunt Sandra, who sat quietly during the meeting taking in every response, absorbing every detail, spoke. 'How long does this mother have to wait?' she inquired knowing that we would be lucky for Keaton to make the testing list by January. She met her opponants at every turn , for every excuse as to why feet had been dragged on a process started a year and a half ago and still had gone nowhere- she had a bolder and smarter retort. 'And when he misses out on the whole year of help what will you do?' 'What help will you offer to him when you get a diagnosis?' 'What else can you do?'. She became my backbone. She could have suddenly been wearing a cape and twirling a magic lasso and it wouldn't have surprised me in the slightest.
When she pointed to me and questioned 'What else would you like this mother to do? I taught for many years and you and I both know she has taken the initiative to do so much on her own?' I felt the tears fill my eyes and I was being rescued from the lonely tower of a far away castle by my Aunt in Shining Armor. As we left the meeting and a few thanked my aunt for standng up and saying enough with the we can't's and she was already plannig her next move in our epc battle of the book, I knew my son has his own personal super hero and she doesnt need a cape.
There are not enough thank you's in the world for what my Aunt did for Keaton and I yesterday. I dont know that there are adquate words to express the gratidude I have for her. She stood up for Keaton and I when I allowed us to be put in line. She was my voice when I was choked with frustration. She was our determination when I started to faulter.
If you are ever driving down the streets of our small suburban-ish city and you pass a house with a large marble statue of a petite italian woman wearing a cape bearing the words 'Super Aunt' then you'll know - I found a way to say thank you.
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