Mummy Told Me Not to Tell (28 page)

I wondered how long the behavioural management plan was going to be because I had requested it over a month before and it still appeared to be at the stage of ‘work in progress’. However, the head’s next comment gave an indication as to why it was really taking so long to produce the behaviour management plan and the IEP: he was hoping it wouldn’t be needed.

‘I understand Reece will be moving on after the final court hearing in September,’ he said to Jamey.

Jamey looked at me questioningly and I shrugged, for I hadn’t told the head that.

‘Well,’ Jamey said, ‘nothing is definite. It will depend on what the judge decides.’

‘But it is likely?’ the head persisted.

‘Yes, but how long it will take I don’t know. And I don’t think Reece can afford to tread water with his education for the rest of the year, do you?’ He said this so casually and politely that it took the head a moment to realize the underlying accusation, as in fact it did me.

‘I can assure you we are not treading water, Mr Hogg,’ he said forcefully. ‘I have a TA with Reece full time.’

‘Good.’ Jamey smiled. ‘Reece is back in school today, and I hope there will be no more exclusions. He’s a good lad and if Cathy can manage him at home then I’m sure this school, with all its resources and funding,
can. I look forward to meeting you again at the statement review, Mr Fitzgerald.’ And with that Jamey rose and the meeting ended.

‘Thanks,’ I said to him outside.

W
hen the head had said he wanted all the professionals present at the meeting to review Reece’s statement of special educational needs, he had certainly meant it. Two weeks and two exclusions later, fourteen of us sat in the staff room at the school, and after the introductions we looked towards the educational psychologist, who had been asked to speak first. Her assessment of Reece was the most important document before us, her conclusion critical in any decision that would be made about Reece’s education and which type of school he should attend. We turned to the copy of her report in the pile of paperwork before us. The top page showed graphs, numbers and percentages, which at first glance seemed incomprehensible.

‘Don’t worry about the results of the tests for now,’ the educational psychologist said. ‘I’ll explain them shortly. I’d like to start by saying a bit about my observation and assessment of Reece in school, and also suggest some strategies that may help. Reece appears to be quite damaged by his early years experience. In the school
setting he can become frustrated and aggressive, which has resulted in a number of incidents, some of which have led to him being temporarily excluded. This is a pattern of behaviour that has been evident at his two previous schools, from which he was eventually permanently excluded. However, unlike before, Reece now has a stable home life and I understand from his social worker that Reece has settled well with his carer, Cathy.’

Both Jamey and I nodded.

‘When Reece is under pressure,’ she continued, ‘or anxious, he reverts to verbal abuse and occasionally physical aggression. I have witnessed this in school, and it would appear he is reverting to actions and language he has previously seen or had done to him at home. It may take some time for the impact of his early years experience to disappear. The school needs to be aware of this in their management of him. Reece’s loss of control is usually very short lived, and afterwards he is very remorseful, and can continue as though it has never happened. Situations that are likely to cause Reece frustration should be kept to a minimum, particularly with his learning and peer-group pressure. Reece will be aware that he is at a level well below his peers, both academically and socially. Situations that highlight this need to be avoided. Reece finds change and new situations difficult, and changes should be kept to a minimum too, and handled with care.’

She paused and glanced up, and I thought her assessment so far had been absolutely spot on. How perfectly and succinctly she had summed up Reece in the school
setting. I also thought that so far there’d been nothing to suggest that Reece should be in a special school, though of course we hadn’t looked at the test results yet.

‘Now to the results of the test,’ the educational psychologist said, continuing. ‘I won’t analyse every result but I will give you the overall findings. These include cognitive ability tests, which show Reece’s verbal and non-verbal reasoning. All the results are lower than one would expect for a child of his age.’

Glancing down I could see this on the graphs, where Reece’s results were compared to the average child of his age.

‘As you can see,’ she said, ‘Reece is slightly better at non-verbal reasoning and this is probably because of his delayed speech development. While Reece’s results are lower than average they are not low enough to put him in a special school. A child would have to be consistently scoring below 80, and Reece has shown he can learn. I believe his word recognition has improved since he has been with Cathy. I understand from his social worker that Reece has gone from being able to read one word to forty-five words.’ I nodded, and was pleasantly surprised to hear the educational psychologist quoting this, for it showed that while Jamey hadn’t responded to my emails, he had noted the contents and put them on file.

‘I’m hoping that the progress Reece has made at home,’ she continued, ‘will soon be reflected at school. Now that’s all I want to say at present, but I’m happy to discuss strategies for helping Reece in school.’

She stopped and there was quiet as each of us silently acknowledged what she had said: that Reece wouldn’t
be going to a special school but would be staying put. Eventually the deputy head, who was chairing the meeting, thanked the educational psychologist and asked if anyone wanted to comment.

‘Yes,’ Mr Fitzgerald said, looking directly at the educational psychologist. ‘It is not Reece’s learning difficulties that suggest he should be in a special school but his behavioural difficulties. That is the reason why he can’t be taught here.’

John, who was from the education department, replied: ‘The special school we have in the county is for severe learning difficulties. At one time there were also EBD schools’ — for those with education and behavioural difficulties — ‘but in line with government policy they have been phased out. It has been policy for many years now that children with mild to moderate learning difficulties are taught within mainstream school.’

‘What about his behavioural difficulties?’ the head said again.

‘The same applies,’ John said. ‘Mainstream school with TA support.’

‘So what you are saying,’ the SENCO said, ‘is that there isn’t a school now open which is suitable for a child like Reece?’

John met her gaze. ‘No. What I am saying is that there are no EBD schools left in the county and children like Reece are accommodated with TA support in mainstream schools. It is not just in this county: most others have phased out the EBD units and schools. There are only a handful left, and the one nearest to us is forty miles away. We certainly wouldn’t consider
sending a child on a return school journey of eighty miles, even if he did need an EBD school, which Reece doesn’t.’

From there on the meeting got very heated, with everyone trying to speak at once.

‘What Reece needs seems to be a matter of opinion,’ the head said, tartly.

‘It’s ridiculous there are no EBD schools,’ the head of year added.

‘He doesn’t need one,’ the educational psychologist returned. I felt the debate on EBD schools was a bit futile, as the educational psychologist wasn’t recommending one, and even if she had been it would have been highly doubtful Reece would go forty miles and out of county. I exchanged glances with Mrs Morrison and also the new TA, Mrs Curtis, who was looking after Reece at lunchtime. They, like me, were not contributing to the discussion but listening.

‘So what are we supposed to do?’ the head eventually asked the meeting in general. ‘Clearly Reece can’t function in mainstream school. We have tried but it hasn’t worked.’

Mr Parks, who advised schools on behavioural management, took up the question, and said he would make himself available to come into the school for a morning or afternoon each week to advise the staff and TAs on strategies that would help. The head looked sceptical that these would work, and said so. The educational psychologist then commented that keeping Reece segregated both for his lessons and at playtime was fuelling his frustration and feelings of rejection.

‘He is dangerous!’ the head snapped. ‘What are we supposed to do? You are forgetting he has attacked staff and pupils, and damaged property. I can’t have him running riot!’

‘He’s not like that at home,’ I said, feeling the head was exaggerating and it was time I had my say. All eyes turned to me. ‘I should like to confirm that Reece’s behaviour stabilized very quickly, and we have had no incidents since the first few weeks he came to me.’

‘Perhaps some of your strategies could be applied to school,’ John from the education department suggested. ‘What have you done that has made Reece behave?’

‘Just firm and consistent boundaries,’ I said. ‘I rewarded his good behaviour and sanctioned his bad. Reece wanted to do the right thing; he just didn’t know what the right thing was. He responds very well to praise and encouragement because he doubts himself. I find that because of his learning difficulties I often have to repeat quite simple instructions, but in terms of his behaviour there hasn’t been a problem.’ I stopped and everyone looked at the head, who was clearly itching to say something.

‘Home is very different from the school setting,’ he barked.

‘Yes,’ the educational psychologist agreed, ‘but that Reece has responded well at home is very promising, and an indication of what he is capable of in school. If Cathy was saying that Reece’s behaviour was out of control at home I would be very worried. However, I am optimistic that the changes Reece has made at home can be successfully applied at school.’

The educational psychologist and Mr Parks then gave some advice to Mrs Morrison and Miss Broom on handling situations where Reece was likely to become frustrated and possibly angry, while the rest of us looked on.

‘We will need extra funding to do all that,’ the head put in quickly.

‘You have the maximum,’ John returned. ‘You have funding for full-time TA support, including lunch and playtime. Do you know that Reece receives more funding than any other child in the county?’ Which the head couldn’t disagree with. I thought it was therefore more a matter of how the funding was being used, and possibly using it differently, if the present arrangements weren’t working, which clearly they weren’t.

Jamey picked this up too, and suggested that perhaps using more than one TA might help. ‘So that Mrs Morrison doesn’t bear all the responsibility and become exhausted,’ he said, which was very similar to what the Guardian had said to me. I wondered, as I had when the meeting had opened, where the Guardian was, for she had said she had wanted to be present at this meeting.

I nodded in agreement and then I added: ‘I know that looking after Reece can be very exhausting in view of his special needs, particularly working one to one and having to repeat instructions.’ The ed psych agreed. ‘Wendy Payne, the Guardian ad Litem, is aware of the level of Reece’s needs,’ I continued. ‘She is very proactive and is concerned about Reece’s schooling. Actually I had expected to see her here.’ Everyone looked
towards the head as the school secretary would have been responsible for sending out the invitations to this meeting.

‘We weren’t aware she wanted to be included,’ the head said. ‘In fact I don’t think we even have her contact details.’ The head should have known that a Guardian Ad Litem should have been included as a matter of course, and the secretary could have rung the social worker to find out her contact details. Jamey opened his mobile and read out the guardian’s phone number and email address, which was written down by the deputy.

‘Perhaps the minutes of this meeting could be sent to her?’ I suggested, and this was also noted.

We then went round in circles for the best part of twenty minutes, with the head in one corner saying that it hadn’t worked having Reece in mainstream school and he couldn’t see how it was going to improve in the future, and John from education restating that there was no alternative.

‘I understand Reece might return here in the autumn term,’ the head eventually said.

Jamey nodded and repeated to the meeting what he had previous told him: that any decision on Reece’s future would be made by the judge at the final court hearing on 14 September, and then it would take some months to implement the judge’s decision, so yes, Reece would certainly be in school in the autumn term. I thought that as we were not yet halfway through the summer term, the head could no longer just ‘tread water’ with Reece, and I think he finally realized that.

‘Right,’ he said, tersely. ‘I’ll call a meeting with my staff and try to put in place some new strategies for managing Reece’s behaviour. Mr Parks, we will need your input.’

Mr Parks nodded. ‘We’ll arrange dates after the meeting.’

There was then a silence before the deputy head said, ‘Is there anything else?’ She glanced at the wall clock as I did. We had been here for nearly two hours. Some of those present hadn’t spoken, including the TAs — Mrs Morrison and Mrs Curtis — and the school nurse. The deputy head now asked them if there was anything they wanted to add. There wasn’t, but they both said the meeting had been helpful.

Before the deputy closed the meeting the head had a final say: ‘We will do our best to implement new strategies with the resources that are available but the bottom line is that if Reece’s behaviour doesn’t improve I will need to exclude him permanently.’

‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary,’ Jamey put in quickly. ‘Not with the behavioural management team’s input. But if it is the case that Reece is permanently excluded, then I know the judge will want to know the reason; and obviously you, Mr Fitzgerald, will be the best person to tell him.’ Which warning the head clearly understood and certainly didn’t appreciate, for he went crimson. I almost felt sorry for him, and would have done so had he not been so against Reece right from the beginning.