After the chaos of the last two years (yes covid, I mean you) it was lovely to actually sit IN THE SAME ROOM as the Dudes form teacher and teacher for the visually impaired (theres a mouthful if ever there was one), and go through the progress he’s made this last year in preparation for him moving up to high school in September.
These ladies have been with my boy for a long time – his VI teacher for example has supported him since he was 3 years old, so moving on and leaving her behind is going to be a wrench.
Together with his teacher, teaching assistants (there have been many) and other lovely staff who have worked with him since he started at this school, they have not left a single stone unturned in their efforts to find what worked best for him.
I still remember his first proper session with his VI teacher in early years.
She came prepared with a massive cardboard box, all blacked out inside to really heighten the contrast for him; she had a range of toys from cheerleaders pompoms in tinsel, light up toys, brightly coloured wiggly things… she had a fight on her hands as all the children wanted to play!
A chance conversation with her highlighted my boys love of LEGO; at his next visit from her she brought light up LEGO blocks, to see him suddenly ‘switch on’ and use his vision purposefully was nothing short of incredible.
It is beyond nerve-wracking to leave behind these amazing people who have loved my son as if he was one of their own, and who have given him so much over the last 8 years.
Currently he’s one of the bigger kids, in September he’s going to be one of the little ones again.
It is very clear to everyone that our boy is ready to move up to high school but it really does feel like the end of an era.
As we were finishing, his VI teacher smiled and said her go-to memory to show how far our boy has come is from her first meeting with him; ‘when I first met him, it took 5 minutes for him to be able to focus on an object. When I assessed him recently, it took 40 seconds’.
Proud? You’d better believe it.
Dry-eyed? Not a chance.