EDUCATORS, choose your words wisely...

As an ex teacher (of many many years), I write these words from both the perspective of a parent and a teacher...

This week has been wonderful, well until today. On Tuesday I watched on as my youngest, Bean, took part in her first Nativity. She was an angel, both figuratively and literally. With each new song, she sang the words, did all the actions and remained on stage despite a lot of her little comrades needing to be comforted by their parents. I left on a complete high - she had finished her first term of preschool, developmentally had come on leaps and held her own on stage. Her targets from October had been met and she had made it into the 30-50 month development bands (she was 3 in September).

Then today, I came to collect her from the Friday session to be greeted by a rather stressed looking Preschool Manager. She, LOUDLY, asked if I could stay behind and give her tips on how to "manage" my daughter. Rather unfortunately I had my eldest with me too, so the impending conversation had to be done while trying to keep both girls calm and sensible. She proceeded to tell me that they were "at the end of their tether" with her as she was emptying boxes repeatedly, had scribbled in books, had broken a few items belonging to the preschool - today she took the keys off their laptop keyboard, which was presented to me in front of onlookers of both staff and parents for maximum levels of embarrassment.. "We're short-staffed", "we can't accept this if it's costing us money". So, I questioned what the sanctions were for a child who is repeatedly disobeying their rules. This question seemed foreign - the reply left me rather dumbfounded  "no, we've never put her in time out, we just tell her not to do it again". We leapt from never instilling sanctions to "we think she should have a 1:1".

As any good educator knows, management of behaviour is a series of steps. Setting out expectations, finding a hook that can get buy in from a child to want to follow the rules and creating a pathway that works for both the child and school. Bean's keyworker has been away for approximately a month now - she has targets from her portage teacher and the preschool follow them. She has really missed her keyworker, frequently asking me where she is. Yet, none of this was taken into account. Instead I left feeling humiliated, that they didn't want her there and that a lack of staff planning had resulted in a rather difficult day.

Now, before anyone says I'm simply shifting blame or responsibility...I'm not. I believe if she misbehaves there should be a consequence - there always is at home. I even made this point in our initial meeting, reiterating a number of times that they would need to be firm. Instead I feel they've made no attempt to put in place basic, yes basic, measures to ensure she knows what is allowed and what is not. I respect that we often have to hear (or say, when we're on the other side!)  unpleasant things but it is the manner in which we deliver that information that leaves a parent feeling safe, secure and reassured that the child needs help, rather then they are a burden. It is also essential to keep a parent informed. Until today, I was under the impression that Bean was doing fabulously. She was attentive, making excellent progress and was kind. So today came as a shock. 

Being an educator gives you enormous power, with profound responsibility. Every word you utter provokes a reaction and a parent doesn't simply hear and forget; rather, they swallow it, digest it and frequently feel the need to regurgitate it over and over again. You are responsible for how difficult and sensitive information is delivered - you find a way to communicate that in an honest yet supportive manner. By conducting this in an open environment you are leaving a parent to feel exposed - you are laying bare all the inner concerns or worries that keep them awake at night. Privacy and compassion are essential - ask a member of staff to tend to the children so that you can speak with the parent, to allow them to cry (if they feel compelled to do so) without fear of upsetting their offspring; or simply schedule a meeting at an appropriate time where an open debate can take place and you move forward united in the best interests of the child. 

Anyone who has worked in the classroom knows that the end of term often brings out the worst in children who are tired, facing chaotic changes to their routines and are excited for the imminent arrival of the big guy in the red suit. Today, has left me feeling despondent and disappointed. After a term which has radiated such success, I move towards next week feeling like I want to pick Bean up and never go back.

So finally...Educators, teachers, keyworkers, please choose your words carefully. They have an impact and when a parent already has what feels like the weight of the world on their shoulders, you can make or break them. 

Chromosomes, Coffee and CANADA ❤️🇨🇦

This summer we were fortunate enough to visit family in Canada. We hopped a plane to Toronto from London...I'm not going to lie, the prospect of a 7 hour flight with a 6 & 2 year old was not exactly thrilling but they were angels. Seriously - total angels! We had lots of food, a couple of glasses of wine (not the kids obviously), some strong coffee, a ton of Disney and suddenly we were touching down in this vibrant city. As soon as we disembarked I had a wish that I'd visited before children - we would've had so much fun!! 

A yummy dinner, a good sleep & before you knew it we were greeted with a new day. We took a quick wander round the city...a little spy of the CN Tower, the Rogers Centre (Go Jays!), Ripley's Aquarium, the cool orange signs, the immaculately clean streets...I could go on. As we stepped I looked at my girls and thought how lucky we were to be sharing this moment together. Such a cool trip & it had barely begun. 

Later that day we jumped in our hire car and headed towards Lake Huron. 3 hours zoomed past and finally we arrived at a little piece of heaven. Have you ever found somewhere and immediately felt at home? As if all those times of questioning where you fit in, why you've always felt the odd one out, suddenly seemed to dissipate. It was incredibly freeing, in fact it made me quite emotional. Now, before anyone says it, I'll do it for you...we were witnessing Canada (Lake Huron to be exact) in all its blissful summer glory. I know that come winter this place transforms into a sub zero winter wonderland...but perhaps with less of the wonder if you've endured Canadian winters for a lifetime! But, despite those nagging thoughts in the back of my mind, I loved it. I adored how polite people were, the extraordinary level of kindness extended to us, how welcome we felt (despite our British accents - trust me, that isn't always the case when you travel) and the relaxed nature we continually encountered. 

During our stay we went to a Celtic Music Festival...one of the beautiful things about Canada is the diverse community. So many families travelled far & wide to North America, to settle, to make it their home. It's what my family did - Irish born but London based, my relatives left for a better life and they found it. For 40 years they have carved out careers, relationships, homes...a new way of living that they have fully & unquestionably embraced, but their Irish roots remain apart of who they are. I saw that history of birth running through the veins of the towns I visited. The Celtic traditions: the music, song, poetry, was evident to see and hear. It was, without sounding crass, magical. All these many nationalities embedded together under one flag, it made me feel proud to be there...& made me feel a million miles away from all the negativity, hate filled problems Brexit has caused in the place I call home. It made me want to stay there forever. 

My aunt described it as a 'kinder community'...as a parent of a child who faces the potential of a lifetime of challenges and obstacles, this was deeply appealing. I'm sure if there are any Canadians reading this they will think I'm being too idealistic or viewing their country with rose tinted glasses, and maybe I am but something about it clicked. It felt right. And surely that's what it's all about, finding somewhere that you feel passionately about. 

So what now? Do we take the plunge and try a new life? I'm certainly nervous at the prospect, the million and one things I would need to do to make it happen but if there is even the slightest hint that we could give my girls, Bean especially, a kinder and more understanding future then I want to grab hold of that & not let go. It's hard for others to understand that...unless you have a loved one who has an uncertain future then all this might seem silly but I know that we have to do everything & anything in our power to improve and enhance our lives but more importantly the future for our girls. 

So...although nothing is certain yet, I hope we have the opportunity to try something new & give us all reasons to be positive for the future.

Bibi xx

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Be Brave

In February last year my youngest and I were invited to join a Child Development Group…it was sold to me as a ‘Family Support Group’ and, if I'm honest, the prospect made me feel uneasy. I couldn't visualise what this group would look like - would we be expected to bare our souls? to share the finer details of our children’s woes? I attended nervously…I almost backed out at the last minute but decided to brave it and welcome the opportunity.

What I didn't realise when I opened the door is how much it would transform my life, let alone the progress my girl would make. I walked into a preschool setting but one that was totally unique. Instead of the hustle and bustle, noise and chaos of most groups, this was an educational play session that catered for a select group of children and families. We were all, despite our varying diagnosis, in the same boat. There were no judgements, no insensitive questions, no boasting about possessing a genius child…rather, it was etched on the face of every parent that we were here to support our children, to give them a safer and more secure environment to work within. What a relief! 

Each Mum was at different stages of the diagnosis process: some were seasoned pros, a few were in the initial stages of assessment and one or two were consumed with a sadness that was palpable. As each week passed we got to know one another more intimately. We shared our stories, gave advice where we could, we laughed, complained...but, above all, we supported one another. I have learnt so much from each and every one of these women…I've realised that, more often than not, Mums are at the coalface of these groups. My husband works. A lot. I'm fortunate that he does but the end result is that I attend all these sessions or appointments alone, just like most of the women in this group. You have to staple on your brave face, breathe in the fear you feel when you attend a meeting, swallow the emotion as it wells up each time you have to express information about your child’s condition, strengths or weaknesses. It's all consuming and takes courage - sheer grit and determination. Every woman I have met at this group is endowed with an inner strength that they probably didn't know existed, until they were faced with these challenges. 

I'm a big believer that the right support is essential - it cannot simply come from your family and close friends. Whether it is portage, local services provided by your council/borough, charities…wherever it is, you have to tap into it. The group that we attend has given our children the skills, resources, time and care to find successes. They have given us the tools to support, engage and manage our children. Most of all though, it has allowed us to create a network of women who can lift one another up, strive for each other and cheer each other on. We can sob openly if we are having a bad day and we can laugh heartily when the better days are upon us. 

Many of us have overcome the grief now, whereas others are in the midst of it…some days you can almost see the ‘black dog’ walking beside them, nuzzling their legs and demanding their attention. This has made for painful viewing - anyone who can empathise with this experience knows that this sorrow, although ever present, minimises and the gloomy fog clears so you can begin to see the horizon again. When I see some of my now dear friends so consumed by this sadness, I want to do anything I can to reassure them that the diagnosis is a start pointing, not a shackle. It ‘should’ open doors and it ‘should’ promote the start of a new journey (I use should because I know we have been lucky - not everyone is). It won't always be a smooth track but your eyes have been opened to what you need to do and hopefully, with guidance, who can help. 

The advice I would give to any newly diagnosed parent is be brave - channel that heartache into proactivity. Push every ounce of your sadness and anger into seeking out support. When I opened the door to the Child Development Centre I anticipated all the negatives, I was so wrong. What a mistake if would've been if I had allowed fear take over and stayed home. Being brave leads you to face things head on - we fight for our children to make their life better, we fight to keep ourselves afloat, we fight because we have no other option. I made a decision when my daughter was diagnosed that I could either lay down and die or I could champion her. She is my life’s work now, just like so many of the Mums I have met. 

The group that we have formed now transcends our CDC - we are now a team, a united force working together to support our children, to sustain one another. Starting a simple Facebook group for these ladies is one of the proudest and best things I have ever done. I was nervous suggesting it but I am so grateful I took the plunge and did it. No-one should walk this journey alone. It troubles me to think how many parents might be at home or at work each day feeling abandoned, isolated and trapped. I would urge anyone in this position to reach out. Send a friend a message, explain how you feel. Search your local authority's website for local services. Contact Mencap, Scope, the charity that supports your child's diagnosis. Do whatever it takes to challenge the status quo. There is no shame in feeling sad, there's no shame in asking for help. You can't control the diagnosis but you can absolutely control how you personally deal with it. Above all, be brave and believe that you can do this, because you can. 

Bibi xx

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I am Somebody...

Last year I watched a Ted Talk by Ruth Pierson. called 'Every Child Needs a Champion'...I found it so inspiring and uplifting that I wanted to write about it. For my entire twenties & my early thirties I was a teacher, who also worked within the Inclusion team. I adored teaching, I was enthusiastic to get out of bed every morning - eager to get to school to make an impact on the children's lives. Now, I'm not for one second suggesting that every single lesson I wrote or delivered was outstanding, of course not, but I did truly believe in my profession and the children in my class. 

Being a teacher is a privilege - you can enable children to excel and achieve, you witness lightbulb moments when something just clicks & you share in their discovery/enlightenment. But not every child gets to make these leaps as instantaneously as others. You can see the prospect of learning is exhausting - mentally, physically & emotionally. Imagine how that must feel? That every day is a chore, a battlefield even. You have to fight to stop yourself drowning & yet you are still expected to fit into a rigid school environment that only bends & flexes if you are fortunate enough to have a passionate teacher, Head, Inclusion team & LSA. All of those individuals play an integral part in keeping a child with additional needs buoyant & successful...they are the child's champion.

Having been at the coal face of education, it is logical then that I face the prospect of my youngest's steps towards school with rather a high dose of anxiety. I feel frustrated that so many factors need to align in order for her experience to be fruitful. For the last 2.5 years I have been her champion: I have fought for her, I have knocked down Drs offices, pestered Consultant's secretaries, I've worked on every target set, attended endless appointments on her behalf, brought myself to my knees at times because I am determined to see her succeed. Relinquishing the reins is a challenge, but I hope that the school of our choice will echo my feelings and champion my daughter - in her strengths and her weaknesses. 

Rita Pierson said: "I am somebody. I was somebody before I came and I'll be a better somebody when I leave. I am powerful and I am strong. I deserve the education that I get here. I have things to do, people to impress and places to go. If you say it long enough, it starts to be part of you." These words are true - every child is a somebody. Every child deserves their education. I hope that all teachers watch this video & take note. To hold a child's education in your hands is a precious gift. You get one chance to make a difference, one opportunity to make an impact and one year to show a child that they are important, worthy & valued. It is irrelevant if the child before you is surpassing all expectations or not...the responsibility is yours & you must respect it. Thank goodness for teachers like Rita Pierson...may other educators take her lead. After all, as it has been said many times before "To the world you may be one person but to one person you may be the world." Every child needs to be treated as an individual & every teacher has the power, in fact the duty, to empower them to reach their goals. We are all Somebody. 

Bibi xx

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