September 22, 2009

The Wedding

I’ve tried half a dozen times to get this blog written. Each time the content changed with the circumstances or news of the day. For example. A brilliant boy with a host of disabilities had a troubled journey into manhood. I represented him and his family for several years, always with the worry that whatever we did might be too little and too late. It has been twelve years since we first met. He was in elementary school then. After many fitful starts and stops he finally figured it out. Life wasn’t about hype. It was about acceptance, hard work, discipline, and finding corners of the day for joy and creativity. Some would say, as I do, that it is also about finding faith- whatever that means to those who use the word. This magnificent boy found a connection beyond himself that sustained him through very difficult times. Then came love and his experience of what that meant within a partnership of common interests and trust. I went to his wedding and met his bride. There he was, in a 200 year old cathedral, tuxedo and all, with a shiny eyed girl floating down the aisle above her bejeweled white satin gown. They have been together for a while so that this was their official affirmation to society. His was the ultimate success story and reminded me of why I did trials for so many years.

Wedding: to bind oneself to a person in marriage; to bind by close and lasting ties; attach firmly. For this boy now grown, and a few other kids and families, too, I am attached firmly by close and lasting ties. Special education battles have a way of doing that. As we start this new school year I hope that it can be in the spirit of marriage. To bind us together in close and lasting ties that commit to continue to work for our children, no matter what the odds, no matter how uncomfortable we become. Each year in special education is the beginning of a new journey in much the same way that these two young people decided that tradition wasn’t such a bad thing after all. It is worth fighting for, this great equalizer called special education, especially when we understand that there are successes that make the indignities, harassment, and sleepless nights worthwhile. It isn’t the cathedral or the surroundings that matter, not the gown or the tuxedo, or all of the happy tears that flow. It is that inner transformation that makes us stronger, more loving, and ready for tomorrow.

The day after the wedding there was an IEP meeting for one of the pre-K children I teach.
I was going to call that blog Dancing in the Dark (great tune). There was no dispute in her triennial reports about the unusual nature of her needs. The problem was that her school didn’t want to discuss their own reports because they did not want to provide the services the team recommended. The case had gone to trial, the parents pro se, because the school refused to schedule an IEP meeting before the child’s kindergarten year started. The judge sent the case back for an IEP meeting, also setting dates for a trial if things fell apart. The parents cannot afford an attorney. They cannot afford a baby sitter or many other things others take for granted. The child has unusual problems that do not fit comfortably into any local program. A consultant has donated her time and devoted months to working with the family. Her work is outstanding. But…but…everybody at the table knew she does not litigate cases. Without fear of the parent’s ability to litigate the case, there is a different dynamic at the meeting. There seemed to be agreement on most key issues, but still no IEP. The trial dates are two weeks away and the child remains without the services all agree that she needs. Why do you think that is…

A few days after we danced in the dark came a bombshell in another case. If I had written a blog then, it would have been called “My Attorney Bernie”. Dave Frishberg wrote a spot-on musical satire of the relationship between client and attorney. The third verse goes…

I admire my attorney Bernie.
I admire any guy who knows his stuff;
Sure we blew a couple ventures with the counterfeit debentures,
But you win a few, you lose a few, like Bernie says,
You keep on hangin’ tough.
Thanks to you, my attorney Bernie.
Thanks to you I’m considered well to do;
Sure I made out like a bandit, just exactly how you planned it,
But, like Murray my accountant told me yesterday,
I owe it all to you.
Bernie says we sue, we sue, Bernie says we sign we sign
On the dotted line.

This is what happened to the degree I can share it now. A family needed an attorney to appeal a decision from an administrative hearing. I made a referral. Turns out the lawyer who took the case never served a party in the case and never told the family. Only when summary judgment motions appeared, with no involvement of the key party, did the family realize something was terribly wrong. They checked the court papers. Bernie made out like a bandit, sure enough. He counterfeited the case, misrepresented what he had done to the family, and charged huge amounts of money. Bernie said “we sue” all right. But it seems that when he said it his fingers were crossed behind his back with one hand, while the other hand made a deal someplace. After all, this is New Jersey! But he clearly never intended to litigate the case he was hired and promised to do. This is yet another example of the divorce between those who commit to a relationship, and those who don’t. You say your vows to the preacher while there is a mistress or lover on the side. In so many ways, this is the ultimate description of the current status of special education. Stay tuned.

So just as I am contemplating Bernie and what that blog would contain, the calendar ticks away toward the opening of our parent training classes. There are still hammers and saws, planks of wood, wires woven through the walls, and air conditioning ducts hanging like caterpillars from the ceiling around me as our little school gets closer to completion. Even without the building ready for kids yet, the families are ready to start their classes on October 1. For the first time, some county and state agencies are referring parents to us. Last Friday a social worker called for a parent and told me there were no training programs she could find for her families. She did not want support programs. She wanted them to be trained. A gorgeous 1960s tune captures the problem.

Who can I turn to when nobody needs me?
My heart wants to know and so I must go where destiny leads me;
With no star to guide me and no one beside me,
I’ll go on my way and after the day the darkness will find me.
And maybe tomorrow I’ll find what I’m after,
I’ll throw off my sorrow, beg, steal or borrow my share of laughter.
With you I could learn to, with you on a new day,
But who can I turn to if you turn away.
(Who Can I Turn To?, Bricusse & Newley, 1964)

Music always says it best. Where do parents turn? Where are the training programs to get them through this most difficult of times? There is no one to guide them through the underlying ugliness and treachery except a few angels along the way, the social workers, the teachers who take them aside and whisper where to go in their ear, the advocates who put aside their own agendas and focus only on the individual needs of each child. Maybe tomorrow. And along the way we must keep our sense of humor and focus on what we are able to achieve in the short term. But those of us who are constant, those who are wedded to the cause must not turn away. Those who remain must stay and teach and, with others, bring a new day.