It Takes a Nation (of Critical, Informed Thinkers)

My forefinger and thumb
are purple from squeezing
the Lipton's BlackBerry tea bag.

Throat is sore. My third class-
unmanageable.
Thank goodness it's Week 10--
I couldn't trudge on much longer.


If I had a Matthew,
he'd be starting First Grade in a new school.
He'd probably end up with the same teacher
my daughter had seven years ago.

Because he and his twin
had a mysterious speech delay,
I'd ask for a bit of help from
the speech therapist at the beginning of the year.

It would probably be a night like tonight,
when my partner and I would be called into conference.

This would be the first year
our schools would be operating under the
No Child Left Behind Act.

This would mean that Matthew
would have to qualify under some type of learning disability
in order to receive speech therapy
from the public school.

It would be all about State Funding.

I imagine we would walk into the conference
and be surprised at who was in attendance:

Mrs. M, Twin A's teacher, whom we've known forever;
Ms. G, Matthew's militant over-seerer;
Mrs. S, the school's over-worked speech therapist;
Ms. P, the school's over-dressed psychologist;
Mr. T, the school's over-zealous councilor;
and even, Mrs. N, the school's principal.

This would be the "intervention team."

At first I'd be extremely uncomfortable--
6:2 is not good odds . . .
I'd be prepared to tell them that Matthew's trouble
wasn't cognitive; instead, the fault is social.

Six years could be summed up easily--the first two,
pure survival; the next two, graduate school;
the most recent two, we've been working, but without
specialized direction.

In short, I imagine the doctors would have told us
that twin boys often have speech delays
(twin talking to each other, ect), and that we
would misunderstand the dr's good intentions
as "not to worry--
it'll fix itself."

But I believe that as two highly articulate parents,
we would win over the "intervention team."
The team would turn into just that:
8 educators concerned for the well being
of two intelligent, loveable boys.
We'd sit around and work out strategies and a time-line.

Matthew's report card of all Ss, S+s, and Os
would signal that he was a learner.
Ms. G would have to admit that he was the only child
to score 100% on the Math assessment.
Mrs. M would testify that both boys loved to read.

O! Then I would be reminded to tell the team
of how Matthew lost his two front teeth,
just when he was learning to speak--
a massive mouth injury, really.

I'd help the school put the pieces together.
I'd listen to their concerns.

But I would never let them "disable" my child
with a brash stigma,
so that they could receive more funding
from No Child Left Behind.