My son started school at the age of three. He attended a special needs public school in a small town. It was scary for me. I cried off and on all day, worrying about him and hoping he didn’t think that I abandoned him. At the time, I didn’t know if he understood what was going on around him. He was nonverbal, and still is. The difference between now and then, I now know he can understand me and he can use an augmentative communication device to communicate his thoughts.
My worrying was for nothing. He had a great time. In the next three years, I new he was in a safe environment. My only concern was that we were not seeing much progress in his developmental skills. He wasn’t demonstrating any understanding of the basic concepts like shapes, numbers, or colors. My husband and I decided it was time for a change.
We moved to a bigger city that was close by. I had researched the schools and thought that they would be better for my son. The teachers had more training and there were dedicated autism classrooms. After the move, it was one battle after another. At first, the new
school system did not want to recognize my son’s diagnosis. Instead, they wanted to place him in a special needs classroom in a school that I wasn’t sure would be a good fit.
Read original blog post