Truth, Paperwork & Pushback. Stories, strategy & sarcasm from NJR Advocacy, LLC

If you had asked me what your future looked like back in February of 2020, my answer wouldn’t have been a very positive one. February 2020 is a time I wish I could take away from your story. Watching you struggle the way you did was one of the hardest things I’ve ever faced. It is a place I would not wish on anyone.   And yet — through your own hard work and perseverance, you kept moving forward.   In 8th grade, when we finally discovered that your challenges were rooted in dyslexia, it gave you the understanding you had deserved all along.   Instead of being a victim, you made a choice: you were going to learn. And you did.   That drive. That determination. That is why we are here today.   You worked harder than anyone saw to get here. You faced things most adults couldn’t handle — and you never stopped being the incredible person you are.   And let’s be honest — I’ve been one step ahead of your emotions your whole life. You still look at me like, “HOW do ...

The Connecticut General Assembly Special Education Committee recently held a Special Education Listening Tour at four locations throughout the state where I read the following testimony that I wrote. It was an honor to have the opportunity to speak. And spoiler alert, I didn't make it through without crying! Hello, my name is Robin Beauchemin. I live in Southington, CT. · Kindergarten · 1st grade · 2nd grade · 3rd grade · 4th grade · 5th grade · 6th grade · 7th grade · 8th grade 9 years in our public school system… That is how long it took to figure out that my son has dyslexia. For context, until he had an outside evaluation that diagnosed his dyslexia, he never had anything more than a 504. During this time, I could not work because my son was refusing to go to school. Because every single day that he showed up, he felt inadequate. The school trauma is so embedded in his brain that now, as a senior in high s...

  Groundhog Day, again. But this time I wasn’t dreading it because I thought it’d be a tough year – but because my little boy, the kid that made me a mom and taught me so much about myself, was about to enter his senior year of high school. And I’m dreading the day that he grows up and moves out. The one positive from this nightmare we had been living is that it has brought us very close. He’s been my hiking buddy, lunch buddy, grocery shopping buddy…. He’s just always there. He’s continuing his tutoring at the library. He has a very light schedule: OG, math, independent health, shop class and independent gym. Second semester will be even lighter. OG. That’s it! One important thing to understand is the gap that being identified as a dyslexic learner so late in life can leave. For example, when he was identified in 8th grade, he was reading at a 5th grade level. That means he was 3 years behind. Now as a 12th grader, he is reading at a 10th grade level, which means he is still 2 y...

  I’m sick of this Groundhog Day crap. I think by year 11 I was starting to lose my positive attitude. We have exactly two more school years, 360 school days to figure this out. But wow, we are quickly running out of time. All those older people who told me to enjoy it because it goes by so fast, yeah – I guess you weren’t kidding. Anyway, onward and upward – mostly because there isn’t another choice. Remember the special education coordinator that I was unsure of? I am now sure that she is the most PHENOMENAL school employee I’ve ever had the pleasure to work with. She instantly fell in love with my son. She even supported his side business by purchasing a dog silhouette made of wood from him. She was what we needed 11 years ago. And although I’m sad she’s just walking into our lives now; SHE was the answer we needed; I think. Long story short, December came and here we were again with the headaches and the stomach aches. Lots of “I don’t feel good”, lack of sleep, spending a lot...

  Groundhog Day! Another start of a new school year. Another round of uncertainty and anxiety. Another year of false hope….. Why is this so hard to figure out? We have a great understanding of your learning profile. And you are such a likeable kid. So, what exactly was happening throughout your day that was making you so unhappy? Here we were again with our billionth+ IEP meeting. This time though, I was smarter. I had spent the last two years taking every single webinar or zoom presentation I could find that related to advocacy and dyslexia. I read books; I reached out to friends that had been down the same road. I read and reread your evaluations. I was so empowered and determined to find the answer I had been searching for. I proposed that the district send you for an Independent Educational Evaluation. Specifically, I wanted a comprehensive speech and language evaluation. Was there a barrier with your language that perhaps was making it difficult for you to fit in? Naturally, t...

  Ok… Here we go again… breathe in, breathe out. Anxiety seemed to be our new normal. It was the first day of a new beginning. A fresh start. A LOT of uncertainty and unfamiliarity. I figured if we made it through the nightmare we had just been through, we could get through this, right? Your driver showed up, pulled into the driveway, introduced themselves and took you on a 45-minute drive to a private school a few towns away. I secretly was mourning the loss of our time together, but so thankful for this new opportunity. You deserve to be able to walk into a school and feel like you fit in. And I was certain that was what this school was going to be for you. You came home happy, but exhausted. That didn’t last as long as I had hoped it would. Remember the false hope we talked about in your 6th grade year? That happened here too. I think I had hoped so badly that private school was the answer that I missed all the signs that you weren’t happy. In my mind, if I just willed it away, ...

  Our district was able to do your evaluation over the summer. Eighth grade began with the option of in person, or virtual. We agreed that you would try it in person and see how it goes. That didn’t last very long, and I was ok with that. I had been working hard to restore your confidence and the thought of you being in school all day where I couldn’t protect you didn’t sound like the best idea. You were still very fragile and my new normal was sitting by your side for every one of your classes. Welp, the day is finally here – another meeting. This time it was virtual because of covid. I’ve always felt so outnumbered at these meetings. The school psychologist reviewed her evaluation with the team. She identified a reading deficit, and the team agreed to an IEP with ONE reading goal. ONE. We ended the meeting and called an advocate. I wasn’t crazy. This kid has dyslexia! I think……….. We signed a contract with an advocate well known in our state. We took her suggestion and scheduled...

  I think it’s safe to say that by your 7th grade year we all had PTSD and completely dreaded every new school day. But you had a “robust” 504 plan and you and your guidance counselor had a tight bond. I still believe to this day that she wanted so badly to help you, but she just didn’t know how. None of us did really…. It wasn’t going well. You came home every day and would lock yourself in your bedroom. You stopped enjoying the things you used to love. You HATED school. Each day was harder and harder to get you out the door. One of the hardest parts of my weekday was forcing you to go to a place that was stealing all of your joy. But what choice did I have? Parents are expected to send their kids to school. You came home one day and shared with me how one of your teachers was unkind in class. Listen, I know you were not the easiest kid and I’m sure your teachers were frustrated. But so was I. It was a full-time job advocating for you, and I was getting nowhere. You told me that ...

  Breathe in, breathe out….. It’s going to be ok. This new adventure has got to be a better experience than Elementary School. I was hopeful that switching classrooms every 43 minutes would be a good thing for you. But oof…. A bigger school means bigger kids. And bigger kids means more judgement. A much bigger challenge to fit into an environment that was not built for a neurodiverse kid. I think you took a piece of my heart with you to school that morning. All I ever wanted to do was protect you. And for you to see what an amazing kid you were. You were entering this new school broken from your experience in Elementary School, and I was just hoping that it wasn’t too late to repair all that trauma. It took a while before the “honeymoon” period wore off. You were always good at giving us false hope at the beginning of every school year. And then it began, phone calls, emails, lunch detentions. Things like blurting out in class, inappropriately playing with the fidgets your poor gui...

  Time for you to learn to read and write. A day chock full of science and social studies. I was anxious because at home, you clearly had some sort of internal motor that nobody could see with the naked eye – if I could have seen it, I FOR SURE would have hit the off switch. Perhaps if I found that off switch, we would not own so many wooden dowels and you would still be playing with your toys that were in the big black garbage bag. However, you successfully made it through preschool and kindergarten, so I was hopeful that the rest of your school years would be a breeze. In first grade I became increasingly worried about your motor without the off switch. I worried about the fact that your handwriting was atrocious, you were writing letters backwards, there was no spacing between your words, random spaces within a word, and it was like the lines on the paper were invisible to you. Your school held a meeting where I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew my concerns were valid. Th...

  It was early on a Tuesday morning. Dad and I had been up all night anxiously awaiting your arrival. You were a stubborn little guy right out of the gate. Clearly you were in no hurry to come out of the cozy little home you had for the last nine months. After a long 23 ½ hours, there you were. This perfect, adorable, precious little boy. Words cannot describe how much we loved you within seconds of meeting you for the first time. That love is what has guided us on our journey together. A journey we had no idea we were in for, and one I never imagined we’d be on. You were four months old when I found out I was pregnant with your brother. You were such an easy, happy baby. Admittedly, I felt guilty giving you a sibling so quickly. That guilt turned into gratitude as I watched my two boys form a bond so incredibly tight. That bond was a big part of your journey. You conveniently started walking just before your brother was born. You weren’t even 1 yet! I knew then that this would be...