Award Day

The picture shows an array of cut flowers, including lilies, daisies, sunflowers, in hues of white, yellow and orange, ready to be made into bouquets.

So it was Award Day at school today.

Such a difficult time, as most of the end of term is, for many neurodivergent children and their parents. Social media posts from friends and family are full of academic achievements, reward events, first day/last day photos, smiling faces, holiday plans. 

For families whose children do not thrive in school, it’s a time of sadness and exclusion. No attendance reward treat for a girl with 33%, no certificates, no photos. Certainly no firm holiday plans for a girl too broken by school to leave the house without me.

But as I dropped my daughter off for what may be her penultimate day at that school, any school, since the LA have not secured provision for her final year, I was beyond proud.

She clutched a bag of flower bouquets she had made herself, with hand written cards and thoughtfully chosen gifts. Gifts for the three ladies who have made the 33% possible, have made toast, made safe spaces, made an effort. They’re not teachers. They’re TAs. Unsung, under-resourced, over worked sticking plasters, holding SEND children together in a place that feels about as safe as a burning building.

School wants children to have good attitude to learning (they score it), resilience, grit. Who scores the school, scores the teachers? Turning up to a school that has let you down again and again, studying subjects no-one is teaching you, aiming for exams you don’t know you’ll ever sit. Well, if that isn’t the definition of all these traits, tell me what is.

So yes, awards are great. I’m as proud of my son’s academic and sporting certificates, his resilience, his attitude to learning. He copes with school, just about, so he gets his moment to shine, he gets his special treats and pats on the back. He also gets expectations and ‘but he’s doing so well, despite being autistic’ when I suggest he might be heading for burnout. Yes, until he isn’t. What then?

My kids are both amazing, both worth celebrating. But in the eyes of our school system, one is a success and one is an uneconomic use of resources.

Both just need to survive school, to finally be free to start living the lives they deserve.