A letter came from our local school district last week. It notified us that Joey’s three year IEP (Individualized Educational Program) meeting will be due in October.
But this one included a waiver form. Since Joey will turn 21 in February and age out of the school system in June of the coming year, the district’s assessment is that the meeting need not take place, and can be waived with our consent.
We didn’t have to think about it. We signed the waiver and, as if a sign from the heavens, the mail man was pulling up to our box just then and I was able to send it post haste.
If you read caregiver blogs, or teacher blogs, or if you know caregivers or teachers, you know that IEPs are, at best, regarded like tax time. In many cases, they are dreaded as venues for marginally productive conflict.
Both “sides” (and this is what the process can create) have valid horror stories to relate. Parents see achingly necessary services denied to their child; educators see requests for a treasure chest of exotic resources.
We are just relieved to be done with that part of Joey’s life. We’ve had good things come out of his years in public education, and certainly many great people who cared about him and blessed his life; we’ve also had our share of frustrations and bureaucratically denied opportunities that have set him back.
At any rate, we are turning into a new chapter of his life, with less of the adversarial stuff.
As Melissa posted on Facebook,
I learned today that there will be no more IEPs. Ever. If you know what this means, CHEERS!