At Five Years Old

This is a personal story, and one I hope does not embarrass my son for the telling. This is a true story, and one that drove many of my decisions for the most of the past two decades. This is a story of a school administrator, and a snap judgment on her part that I refused to accept. When he was just five years old.

I forever have burned into my memory sitting in this school administrator's office, the assistant superintendent for academic achievement, when she said "Your son will never be academically successful" when I was discussing with her the difficulties he was having in kindergarten. At five-years old.

She was a toad-like woman, immensely obese, with folds where a neck should have been that jiggled with every breath, protruding eyes hidden behind glasses I had last seen worn on the movie screen in "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" by one of the time warp-dancing minions of Dr. Frankenfurter. I was facing a woman whose whim could have pigeon-holed my child into academic mediocrity without access to any of the resources he deserved. At five years old.

This toad of a woman had just told me that my son, who was gifted in many ways, who had been accepted into two other gifted programs based on the testing to which he had been subjected, was a failure. At five years old.

Yes, he was having trouble in kindergarten, we had probably pushed him a little too early into school. He was having the same kinds of difficulties many boys see in school, and who also get a stamp of disapproval from educational trolls such as the one I was dealing with. At five years old.

I forced the district into putting him in a special transitional program, that was normally reserved for economically-disadvantaged children. I refused to accept that the school district would cut off my son from an education for which I was paying through my taxes, when he was so young. Just five years old.

That classroom could best be described as chaotic, but the teacher and I spoke at his admission, and I made it clear that I would be monitoring his progress on a daily basis - and her performance, as well. I made it clear that he was in her classroom because of a showdown with the school board, which I had won. I made it clear that I was a fully-engaged parent in his educational progress. At five years old.

She made one major mistake during his time in that classroom, attempting to convince me that he had attention deficit disorder with hyperactivity (ADHD) and needed medication. I asked to see her medical license, because he showed no signs at home of any of the type of behavior she claimed he expressed in her classroom. I refused to bow to the desires of a teacher wanting to put a clamp on my child's creativity and inquisitiveness, and stamp him with her brand. She pressed the issue, until a final confrontation involving me, the school board, and lawyers. At five years old.

That was the final breaking point for my experience with that public school district. I moved him into a private school for the next three years. A school that celebrated the joy children have in learning about the world around them - and one that did not fail to enforce discipline within the classroom. He bloomed into the student I knew he could be.

During those three years, his younger brother who was clearly ADHD entered the same private school, since I was not going to repeat the public school experience with a child who clearly was going to have trouble with school. If the elder of the two boys, who was clearly capable to anyone but one particular school administrator, had trouble adjusting to that environment, I would not repeat that mistake.

During those three years, I began to heavily research the surrounding school districts, as continuing to pay for private school was financially straining. The best district in the area, and one of the best public school districts in the state, was only eight miles away. We bought a house in that district during the elder son's third grade year, and he started fourth grade at this school.

He excelled. He bloomed into a leader among his peers - a positive leader. He graduated with a 5.01 GPA, out of 5. He was recognized on a national level for his musical skills, but he saw himself as an engineer. He was admitted to one of the most academically-competitive programs in the United States - and the world. He graduated last December, and was recruited heavily all over the country before accepting a position with a world-wide leader in their industry.

All this, from a child who, at five years old, was judged to be incapable of ever being academically successful. At five years old.

I'm glad I refused to listen.

Perhaps you should, too, when your child is being labeled by school administrators with no vested interest in the welfare of the children whose lives they can ruin. At five years old.