Both Sides Of The Table

  When we first started this journey—through evaluations, through meetings, through setting up the IEP—we knew there wasn’t going to be a magic solution. But if I’m honest, part of me hoped for it anyway. As both an educator and a parent, I understood that progress in special education is often slow and layered. But knowing it in your head and feeling it in your heart are two very different things. Once our son started in the 4-year-old preschool program with special education support, we waited—and watched. And slowly, we began to see the wins. He started identifying letters and numbers more consistently. He could name shapes without needing as much prompting. He even began to write his name—first with shaky, tentative letters, but still, there it was. His name. In his own hand. These weren’t huge leaps. They weren’t instant transformations. But they were everything. We knew it would take time. We knew there was no magic fix. But what gave us comfort was knowing we...

After the IEP was finalized and the services were in place, the next big step was one that every parent knows well—the first day of school. But when your child has special needs, that day carries a little more weight, a little more planning, and a whole lot more emotion. As both an educator and a parent, I knew how important it was to start this transition the right way. I also knew my son—and I knew he needed more than just a backpack and a new pair of shoes to feel ready. He needed to meet his teacher. So, before school began, I reached out to the district and arranged a time for my son to visit the classroom and meet the teacher in advance. That short meeting made a big difference. He got to see the room, hear her voice, and get familiar with a new space that would soon become part of his daily routine. When the first day finally arrived, we took him to school ourselves. His teacher was waiting outside to greet the students, and when he saw her, his face lit up. He walked in with a ...

  We had done the evaluations. We had filled out the forms. We had shared our concerns and prepared ourselves the best we could. Now, it was time to sit at the table—not as educators, but as parents. The day of the IEP meeting felt heavy. We walked into a room filled with professionals—each one holding a piece of our son’s story. And while they were kind, thoughtful, and clearly prepared, nothing quite prepares you for hearing your child described through charts, percentages, and testing language. They began by reviewing the results. The evaluations confirmed what we had suspected and feared: our son needed support across multiple areas. He qualified for services in speech, occupational therapy, and physical therapy. The testing also revealed comprehension difficulties, which explained the challenges we had been seeing with processing and retaining new information. As an educator, I knew where this was going. I could see the path forming as they spoke. Our son would be placed in th...

  <script async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js?client=ca-pub-9892326212657392"      crossorigin="anonymous"></script> From Questions to Confidence: What Every Parent Should Know Before the IEP Meeting After the evaluations were completed, we sat down again—with a new set of nerves. This time, we weren’t asking for help—we were hearing what the professionals had found. As an educator, I’ve sat at many of these meetings. I’ve helped explain reports and reassure parents. But sitting on the other side of the table, as our son’s parent, it was entirely different. Even when you think you’re prepared, nothing quite matches the emotion of seeing it all in writing—your child’s strengths, challenges, delays, and diagnoses. You want to ask the right questions. You want to stay calm. But more than anything, you want to do right by your child. That day, something clicked for me: It’s not just about what the school sees ...