The neurodiverse in public schools

This has been one of the hardest parenting weeks we've had in awhile. Actually, several weeks. Simon ended up failing a class last quarter. Then we recently got the warning that he was failing several classes. While certainly there are challenges to the way that he learns, this came about because he simply wasn't doing the work. When we had been asking about it the last few weeks, he would always insist that he was caught up. Well, now we know he wasn't.

The hardest thing is that there is a confluence of issues, and we're trying to solve or address them all at once. It's still not clear what the path forward is, but I think I can catalog it all like this:

• Processing speed. Last fall he went through a diagnostic to qualify various functions. For processing speed, he was in the lowest percentile. That particular block of tests tells a weird story, because his visual-spatial intelligence is in the highest bracket, while working memory and fluid reasoning were high average. What I've read about processing speed deficiencies is that it's like a hydraulic lift. The lift doesn't move fast, but it can lift many tons. What this means in the classroom is that he doesn't roll well at a fast pace.
• Panic. Emotional regulation is, in general, difficult for neurodiverse kids (and frankly, adults at times). So when he gets behind, his instinct is to freak out and get overwhelmed.
• Social stigma. Various school folk have suggested all kinds of mitigation and adaptation strategies, but the problem with all of them is that it makes him different. So for example, if he were to use speech to text technology, that's ripe for shitty kids making fun of him or calling him stupid.
• Discomfort. All of the above create uncomfortable situations. I can't blame him for wanting to avoid that, but I also want him to try to adapt and challenge himself when faced with discomfort. My expectation is probably not reasonable.

That's all difficult, but the getting behind and saying he was caught up was a poor choice, and so there are consequences. We literally took the computer off of his desk. I hate it. He really enjoys working with theme park simulations and games, and it's also his social outlet. Taking that away is taking away his happiness, and I know it. (I also have the damage that wanting to use computers as a child, I was treated like that was a burden or a bad thing.) The volume of tears and generally terrible feelings around here is high.

It doesn't help that his psychiatrist basically said that public schools suck at accommodating neurodiverse kids. While I'm definitely seeing that now, in high school, I think it's a bit of an overgeneralization. They did OK in elementary, and even middle. I didn't worry that he would fall between the cracks in the lower levels. But now, does a school with 3,000 kids really have the ability to be effective? And sure, I know that the law requires certain things, but that doesn't make it so. And with the dipshits in Washington trying to make us even dumber, who even knows what to expect.

I don't know how to teach him to be more self-reliant. We're in a time when you have the world's knowledge (and misinformation) at your finger tips. But he always has a reason that he can't learn on his own. Tonight it's that he was worried about the district looking at his browser history, which I don't even have words for.

As I said, I don't think that general intelligence is the problem, but rather how he is wired to learn. Last weekend, Diana was helping him with evolution, and he understands it in a non-trivial way. But he can't have someone holding his hand at every step, and that's what he seems to want. I'm not convinced that it's what he needs.

Let me just put this out here... I'm not soliciting solutions. I'm ranting to get it out, and the only thing I really need is empathy. More neurotypical adults suggesting things without context is not helpful.