She Is Not a Duck, Part 13

A Mother’s Journey into the world of Mental Health and Spectrum Disorder Challenges

She walks like a duck, talks like a duck, but she is not a duck.

Chapter 12 Full of Hope in Florida

We found our new home in 2010 in Satellite Beach, Florida.

I immediately started researching the available schooling options for all 3 kids including a specialized search for Sarah’s needs. I had roughly 6 months to arrange things before we headed 1000 miles to paradise.

Florida’s education offerings are quite different and include choice, unlike New Jersey. I dove in. I spoke to the Board of Education and they assured me of the FEPA (Fair Education Practices Act) that reads, in part ~

The School Board of Brevard County, Florida does not discriminate on the basis of race, color, national origin, sex (including sexual orientation, transgender status, or gender identity), disability (including HIV, AIDS, or sickle cell trait), pregnancy, marital status, age (except as authorized by law), religion, military status, ancestry, or genetic information or any other factor protected under applicable federal, state, or local law.

This is not earth-shattering but Sarah had not been considered disabled.

She would arrive, however, with an IEP (Individualized Education Plan) from New Jersey. The State of Florida would consider that. They needed to conduct their own assessments and start fresh, though. From experience, this takes a lot of time.

I took a proactive approach and started transferring all pertinent information from her doctors, schools, and counselors. I made every attempt to have a smooth transition ready for her.

After much back and forth communication, the Brevard County Board of Education of Florida promoted a fantastic school to us that will suit Sarah’s needs.

Relief is immediate. Excitement brews.

“We have done right by our family,” I think to myself.

The school, Horace Mann Academy (located in Rockledge, FL) catered to the diagnosed school kids from Kindergarten through 12th grade. Unique considerations, compassion, and specialized teachers were the backbone of this school. They also touted the psychologist on staff, in addition to the common practice of a school nurse.

I felt like we hit the jackpot.

What took us so long to listen to people telling us about the strong mental health and autism supports available ‘down south?’

We arrived at our new home and settled in just a week before the start of the school year.

Motivated by excitement, we drove to each of the kids’ schools. Our oldest would attend the local High School within walking distance. It had just gone through a couple of million dollars in renovations and looked like a college campus. Our son’s elementary school was small and dated but seemed welcoming.

We took the 20-minute drive to check out Sarah’s new school. They don’t provide busing, which was fine, so we went to get a feel for our new routine.

As an incoming 9th grader, she would be part of the high school building.

Every school seems a little eerie when it’s desolate. The hustle and bustle of a student body make brick and mortar come to life. This was no different. It felt flat.

Worse than flat, however, was the absolute lackluster, worn around the edges non-appeal. The high fencing, gates, and overall signage seemed to offer a threatening air.

“Let’s not judge, it doesn’t start until next week. It seems like it is exactly the environment you will thrive in!” I tried my hardest to portray the same level of hope I had before we saw it in person.

It didn’t hold a candle to the brochure we had received.

I tried to hold onto a little hope and hid my deflated optimism. Sarah started her first day. I am pretty sure I didn’t breathe for hours. Much of her day was a tour, interviews, and questionnaires. She always did well in the classic “honeymoon phase” of meeting new people. This was no exception.

She reported that she thinks she likes it there.

Back to school night took place on her 3rd day.

I looked forward to getting the ‘lay of the land’ and meeting her teachers. Sarah was excited because they planned to serve ice cream.

Every Back to School night I had ever attended through the years was chaotic. I wondered how packed the hallways would be, and would the energy throw Sarah into a tailspin?

I was a little nervous about the unknown.

“We must be early, which I guess is good, right?” I impressed myself with how casual I sound to her. I can’t help but notice that there isn’t a lot of activity. We aren’t that early. We may have been one of three cars in the parking lot.

We entered the school and I immediately hear alarm bells in my head.

Where is everyone?

Sarah and I headed to the Principal’s Office and she invited us to sit. She explained to us that it’s not a popular night and they rarely have parents visit, especially at the High School level. Sarah was still excited about the ice cream and ran off to partake.

I spotted an occasional parent headed to the elementary school wing.

I went home and reported my findings and expressed my concern.

“I felt like I was at a school for the forgotten kids, the ones that parents are tired of dealing with. Nobody was there! How do they not participate with their kids?”

It was an emotional struggle for me.

Sarah seemed to like it there. That was a huge step in the right direction. Half the battle is keeping her from emotional upheavals and the student body is comprised of kids with whom she identified.

I am uneasy.

I simply didn’t want to impose my expectations of the perfect environment on her if she’s happy and gets her education.

I took a ‘wait and see’ position.

In the first 3 months, she was bitten on the arm and slapped across the face, unprovoked.

I feverishly searched for a replacement school. This was beyond unacceptable.

She was 14 years old. A 16 and 18-year-old boyfriend/girlfriend duo used Sarah’s backpack to hide the transfer of prescription meds (controlled substance) from the girl to the boyfriend. They asked Sarah and said he was afraid they didn’t fit in his pocket.

They were all promptly arrested.

Hindsight is 20/20 of course. This was not a specialized school for kids on the spectrum. This school was the only option that Brevard County had. They chose to lump severely troubled kids, with the mentally ill, and those with spectrum disorders, all together.

This school was actually an alternative school for any who didn’t abide by standard rules of behavior. A melting pot.

Within the 3rd month, we had removed Sarah from the school. I needed to find a private offering.

It was hard to find anyone who would let me explain Sarah and how she could have been caught up in the prescription debacle. She certainly wasn’t aware of ‘illegal possession of a controlled substance with intent to distribute.’

Horace Mann Academy, which we were told was an amazing fit for Sarah, not only wasn’t a good fit but by 2015, just 5 years after we arrived in Florida, they were forced to close as they continued to receive F’s in their State Level performance evaluations.

Meanwhile, I had a court case to address.

I found a good attorney.

He didn’t understand Sarah, either.

Welcome to Florida, the state of wonderful supports.

I couldn’t find them, yet.

• Thank you for joining in part 13 of my series. We will travel through the hallways of the psychiatric world, the school system, and our family dynamics. I look forward to sharing more and hope you will see that none of us are alone.
• To continue reading Part 14: https://readmedium.com/she-is-not-a-duck-part-14-d6ab827cd75
• Please access the link below if you need to start with the Introduction to the series and many thanks. Each subsequent Part will also be linked at the bottom of the story, upon publication, for continuity and convenience.