It was ominous from the start.

Blue Eyes and I walked in to the IEP and there, placed prominently on the table, was a box of Kleenex.

Hmmmm, I thought. This might be bad.

In a few short minutes everyone gathered round: special ed teacher, school psychologist, speech teacher, classroom teachers, aide, principal. We started with intros and some preliminary stuff, and then the psychologist took the reins.

Dr. C gave a long talk about how many kids with autism don’t do well on standardized tests. He said that the instruments he is given to measure a person’s intelligence fall far behind what an autistic person’s intelligence may truly be. He talked about how Joseph was distracted during the testing; he didn’t like being pulled out of class; he appeared to guess at answers just to get the tests over with.

Then Dr. C opened up the paperwork and showed us what Joseph had (and, mostly, hadn’t) done. He showed us how his test results compared to average results.

Eventually he came to the point: Joseph’s IQ score was less than 70.

This, my friends, qualifies him as mentally retarded.

Now, Joseph is absolutely, positively not mentally retarded. He is, in fact, a rather bright boy who processes things more slowly than most, and who doesn’t much care about giving right answers on a test.

Neither Blue Eyes nor I reached for the Kleenex that day. Everyone in the room agreed that the test results were ridiculous, and the psychologist attached a letter saying he believed the results were invalid.

And yet.

It will be a part of his record forevermore. It is one more label that we don’t need, and don’t even deserve. I am starting to get angry about it.

I brought it up to John, our RDI Consultant, and loved his comments. Did Dr. C check to see if Joseph was ready to take the tests? Did he check for Joseph’s availability? The answer to both these questions was no. Joseph was clearly resistant to leaving his classmates; he did NOT want to take the tests. He wasn’t ready and he wasn’t available.

Dr. C recommended that we never get Joseph’s IQ re-tested. He’ll never do well on these types of tests, he said. And having such a low score will guarantee us government-funded services forever!

(If Joseph continues to do well in school and with self-care, he could eventually disqualify himself from services, you see. But not with this IQ score!)

The thing is, I don’t want government-funded services forever. I want Joseph to be an independent adult, able to hold down a job and have relationships. Able to have a rich, multi-dimensional life.

I appreciate that Dr. C was looking out for us, but I don’t share his outlook. Obviously we don’t know what Joseph’s future will be. It could go either way. But if I see him as a full-fledged, self-reliant adult, I think his chances of getting there are much better.

I am mad about a system that measures our children — defines their intelligence — in such a narrow way. I am blown away by a system that monetarily rewards those who are unable to function independently but does not help those who could be self-reliant.

Mentally retarded?

Oh, okay, hand me that damn Kleenex box.

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