Parenting my ADHD Child - Advice to my Younger Parenting Self

ADVICE TO MY YOUNGER PARENTING SELF

My child with A.D.H.D is 15 now and doing well in secondary school. He is a happy, chatty, outgoing boy with a lovely group of friends and he has kind, supportive teachers. He's a normal, imperfect teenager. We got here after some awful years in primary school and I wish I'd known some things back then that I know now...

Cleaning out boxes in the attic one morning recently, I opened up my son's school journals from his first primary school. The copious correspondence between his teachers and I took me back to a time when I was young, naive, eager to please and ignorant about my son's condition and his needs. It reminded me of the many, many, many afternoons I fought and cried with him over doing his homework. It reminded me of desperate moments that I would forge his writing to pretend he had done it, to avoid punishment for him from his unyielding teacher the next day. A time when I got angry and shouted at him for feeling embarrassed and stressed following yet another summons and diatribe from his scary teacher. A time I punished him at home for things that happened in school because I was told to do so by his teacher. For too long, I sent him to that school where he was unhappy, demeaned and punished daily and often for things that were outside his control. He was a really bright boy who spent much of his time in the junior infants classroom to humiliate him into compliance or standing outside his classroom or sitting inside the Principal's office being threatened.

His crimes were; reading to the end of a page when the class had been told to stop, paring his pencil at the wrong time, pushing a kid who had pushed him first, talking out of turn, fidgeting or jiggling in his chair, going to the toilet too frequently, not looking at the teacher when she was speaking to him, not concentrating on task, unfinished work... The list was endless but looking back now, none of it was terrible, though he and I were made to feel so. I realise now that his teacher's cataclysmic responses and complete lack of tolerance was the real problem. I hate that I was that stupid, nodding-dog Mum for a while, that I did not protect him.

Thankfully, we finally woke up and extracted him from that toxic environment after 3rd class and he moved to a school where he was treated with kindness and compassion. Really, really simple things made a huge difference to his happiness, co-operation and performance in school. I cannot express to you how life changing it is to have a Principal and a teacher who understands ADHD. He couldn't believe that he was allowed to take breaks from class as often as he felt like it, without so much as a word to his teacher. All the teachers in the school knew that if they saw him walking the corridor, he was on a little break and they would smile and chat to him as he passed. He was asked for his input into how class could be better for him. His social skills were developed. I was treated with compassion and my input too was valued. The nasty correspondence home stopped. He started to blossom.

If I were starting all over again, I would tell myself to pick my battles carefully (homework was not a worthwhile battle), to read my son's behaviours (what is beyond his anger - is he mentally exhausted?, did something happen at school?, is he simply hungry?)
and I would stand up for his needs against the powerhouse that school can be. In our case, I would eliminate homework for him in primary school. I instilled a love of reading in my children and on reflection, that was all he needed to be doing. He was reading way beyond his age and yet mundane homework was the source of so much angst in our daily lives for too many years. In my do-over, I would talk to his teacher at the beginning of the year and tell her that we would probably not be doing homework most days and explain to her that his level of concentration in school all day already stretched him and that him getting fresh air and exercise after school was essential to his wellbeing and that us having a friction free afternoon was more important.

In the scheme of my beautiful boy's life, all those years of homework didn't count for anything except bad memories. I guess what I am saying, is take a step back and examine the source of your greatest battles and weigh up - is it worth it? Is it that important? How will you reflect on it in years to come? Gaining perspective on what is important and learning to stand up for my son have been the biggest learning curves on my ADHD parenting journey and one that I'm keeping in mind every day that I encourage my lad to do some study for his junior cert. Some days, he does great, productive study and others he spins on his chair and day dreams out the window. His bedroom is mostly messy, he has to be told to do something ten times, he is disorganised and he blurts out lies before folding with the truth, but boy, does he make me laugh with his quick wit, he is kind hearted and a complete charmer,a loyal friend, he gives the best spontaneous hugs and I know he is going to be absolutely okay. I just wish I'd known this ten years ago when his eager little face disappeared through the door of junior infants.

Long Live the Maverick Teacher

I really enjoy The Secret Teacher, an anonymous blog/column in The Guardian newspaper.  It offers  great insight into the challenges facing teachers in the UK every day.

Today's Secret Teacher blog focused on the demise of the much-loved, eccentric or maverick teacher, at least one of whom we can all recall fondly from our own school days.  It gave me pause for thought.

For me it was my german teacher.  We were all slightly scared of her because she was volatile...but brilliant.  She had no time for messers but she had all the time in the world for those that were interested in learning german.   She would sweep into the classroom, arms laden with 'handouts' of her own creation and students would sit bolt upright, switched on and in silence until her first words signalled the start of class.  We were captivated by her wild tangle of curly hair, her hippy anything-goes dress code and intense teaching methods.  Her love for the german language transferred to us and remains with me to this day.  So much so, I went on to study it at university.  She was a revered character in our school; students would part like the red sea for Moses, when she would sweep through the corridors.  Those who never had the privilege of her teaching were terrified of her but those whom she taught respected her above all other teachers.

If the OFSTED (the UK Office for Standards in Education) system is pushing these beacons of light out of our schools, there is something radically wrong.  Surely eccentricity which usually stems from one's passion for their subject is a rare, positive trait that should be treasured in any school because that passion lights a fire under students.  The same can be said of parents who are excited about their children's education - our enthusiasm is the fuel that propels them forward.

Now more than ever, our students' attention need to be captured and their brains engaged in learning in more diverse, less traditional ways.  Our children were born into a hyper-stimulated world of technology and media where information is acquired at warp speed and delivered in 4D technicolour.  A teacher standing at the top of the classroom with an open book in one hand and a piece of chalk in the other is history.  We need those eccentric, radical thinking, outside-the-box, highly energised, passionate, maverick teachers now more than ever.

OFSTED in the UK appear to have lost sight of what they are trying to achieve.  Many teachers appear to feel tied to their desks, drowning in paperwork and working harder to please the school inspector rather than their students.  The Department of Education here should pay attention to what teachers in the UK are saying about OFSTED and reconsider going down the same bureaucratic route.  As a parent, I'm not impressed by carefully plotted graphs showing my child's progress benchmarked against national averages.  I'm impressed when my child's teacher inspires and challenges them in the classroom on a daily basis.  I'm impressed when her teacher demonstrates at our Parent/Teacher meeting how well she knows my child and how she's helping her to grow, learn, achieve and improve.  I'm impressed when my child's teacher shows awareness of the different abilities and different learning styles within her class.  I'm impressed when my child's teacher shows she cares if my child is upset or hurt. I'm impressed when my child's teacher veers off plan and uses a newsworthy event or story as a teachable moment.  Forcing teachers to limit their teaching to certain themes across all strands is not realistic or natural.  Teachers need room to breathe, to put their own personality and passion into their lessons and to be spontaneous at times.

My son reports fondly on the eccentricities, hilarity and genius of his favourite teachers at secondary school.  Not surprisingly, these also correspond with his favourite subjects which is no coincidence.  When he comes home, face shining and wearing a wide smile, excited to recount another funny story about his exuberant science teacher, my heart sings.  I'm so happy to hear these joyful tales of his school life.  He's associating learning with fun.  He's learning and he almost doesn't even realise it during these moments.  I can see beyond his teacher's 'show' and I know what she's doing.  I want to wink at her every time I see her.  She is the type of teacher he will remember and perhaps blog about in the future, not the teacher who had all their lesson plans laminated and alphabetised.  They may also have been brilliant but he won't remember them as fondly and he probably won't remember much of what they taught him in the long term.

As parents, what do we want to be at the core of our child's education?  Excellent academic results?  A positive learning experience?  A time to grow socially and emotionally?  A place to discover one's talents and interests?  I think the answer has to be a melting pot of all of the above.  The pursuit of excellent academic results should not be at the expense of all other aspects of a child's education.  Would we have enjoyed the movie, Dead Poet's Society, without English teacher, John Keats.
He was the central character in that wonderful movie and without him, there would not have been any society nor indeed any story to tell.