The "Bell Curve" is a common name of the Gaussian Probability Distribution, because is is shaped like a bell. In a large college class with a fair exam, the marks will roughly follow a Gaussian Probability Distribution. There is theory that social order follows this same Gaussin Distribution as the two opposite extremes are pulled to the more middle norm. Huh...? ... you say?
The social idea along this theory is that society at large will attempt to pull to the norm that which it deems the extreme. Case in point, bring down Bill Gates because he is becomming too rich and powerful and bring up the begger on the corner becuase he is too poor and weak. Bring both extremes to the middle to maintain social norms, thus a social Bell Curve. This social Bell Curve theory has facinated me for some time and I am always interested when I think I see it.
Sometimes you see it in cluster groups of women, who decide to group and exclude other women. It often happens in high school, and then they single out others outside their norm. Unfortunately some do not grow out of this, and it appears over again in different forms throughout adult life.
Today, I waged war against this academic social Bell Curve and it exhausted me.
Now ... we all know too well the battle I have been fighting to get the school system to recognise Brian's needs and figure out what exactly is his learning disability. Brian is wicked smart in some areas; terribly funny sometimes; too serious other times; focused then lost; killer athletic skills when he throws a ball - yet clumsy when running; brave and outgoing - scared and withdrawn. Yes, I know a typical boy...lol...but his reading shows the black hole in his educational universe. His writing scratches along like an old man's whos is riddled with arthritis and booze. Brian's studder when fighting for the words to finish a sentence when his fast acting brain is firing off his latest story. There is his sometimes spacy lost behavior in class and then dead-on target on a one-on-one test.
It stumped even the best of doctors, but I knew it my heart that not all the wheels of the motor in Brian's mind were moving together as a team. I also knew it bothers him, so I had to find the answer. Brian has always believes that I make anything happen.
So, as we all also know, we did find the answer. Part of CAPD (Central Auditory Processing Disability) is the processing delay from the movement of sound to the inner ear, and then the ability to move back it out as movement in motion or with words. For Brian, there is a severe delay in this function, especially if the sounds are at certain pitches. He might not even hear them. Often, he is left to finish work in Study Hall to keep cought up in class. It is not his favorite thing, because he misses out on lunch recess and the games he loves so dear. But on the other hand, he hates being different from the other kids and wants his work turned in with everyone else. The only area this is not a problem is math, and as of tonight I found out he is attempting 7th grade algebra and loving it (GOOD GOD I HATED MATH HOMEWORK - this is God's sick sense of humor you know). I swear I am going to have to find me a math man to have around and do the nasty with in the hope that he will tutor me to answer Brian's math questions.
But back to my Bell Curve problem. The above makes Brian different and difficult for the school administrators (mostly the principal) to handle. Brian is off the Bell Curve, you know, something outside the norm. Study Hall kids are thought to be bad kids. Brian is kind and popular, well-rounded and well-behaved, well-liked by all his teachers - never in trouble. The Principal is convinced Brian must not like school...nope...Brian loves school. I can't have conversations with this man anymore because it makes me want to do that two fingered Stooges thing to his eyes. He can't make Brian fit into his norm no matter how he tries and this does not fit in with his impression of kids. He is an ass of a man. His views have coused me to enter in the verbal boxing ring with him more than once. And let me tell you, today I was minutes from creating my own murder trial.
I pick Brian up from school and he greets me in his usual happy manner. "How was school today?" I ask. "Fine. I am hungry" he answers. I pretty much think we have this same conversation everyday at this time, only the clothes change. As we drive along Brian asks, "Mom, what is suspension?" (Oh no are the teenage-cut-school-smoking problems beginning now?) I calmly answer, "It's when you are kicked out of school for a few days, why?" The car is slowing down (as if on its own) to about 5 miles an hour. "Mr Y (the principal) came to Study Hall today and called some of us up to him one by one and I was one of them". "Ok, why?" I again ask clamly. "Because he says I have been in Study hall twice this month and if I am back again I will be on suspension". I come to a dead stop. "Mom, what exactly does suspension mean again?"
"What????????" (Is that my out loud what or the sound of car tires?)
I make Brian repeat the whole story and answer back, "You mean to tell me that if you are not able to complete your work in class, because it takes you longer and you go to Study Hall to finish, which you always do, you are to be kicked out of school?" "Yes, is that what suspension means?" he asks, his eyes widening. Trying to keep my cool, "Brian let me tell you this, I will never let you be kicked out of school for trying to learn. Now, if you spray paint something, steal, pick a fight, break the school rules, it will get you suspended and heaven help you when you get home then. But for this - no - and I will handle it". "Ok" he mumbles. I can see the worry on his face. "Brian I think you know your mother well enough by now, I will handle this, and you will be fine" He nods, realizing that I am still his favorite nut.
Red steam is coming off my hair as I try to breathe through my nose to stay calm. I drop him off at his afternoon hearing training and remind him not to worry. As soon as Brian is out of sight and sound, I try to phone my x husband so he will calm me down, because I am so redheaded angry that my irish redheaded grandma in her grave is pulling her favorite sweater over her head in fright. He doesn't answer his cell so I allow myself to just drive a bit. Then I realize that the Superintendent and the school district office are right near where I need to go.
I stop at the district office, ask for the superintendant, who is in a meeting. I very calmly leave a note that I would like her to call me about Brians rights under 504 and I think we need to meet to discuss this principal at Brian's school.
They were very nice in the office. I wasn't back in the car driving but 5 minutes when I get the call from the superintendant. I don't think she got out much of a hello before I was off and running to the madder-than-hell- Catherine races. I had to pull the car over. I didn't yell, but I don't think I took one breath, and asked her, "If Brian was in a wheel chair would this principal tell him to just get up and walk if he thought he was in his way"? She conceded that I was not the first parent to call about the Study Hall incident, and she would pull Brian's file. She did know Brian, (hell even me) because back when Brian was in third grade I stood up for the parents of these simular learning different kids at a meeting we had with the school administration. Evvverrryybody there knew who I was after that.
I told her my thoughts about the administrative staff at Brian's school and how much I do love Brian's teacher. She went on to say that the principal is only to talk to the kids in Study Hall who are there for disiplinary reasons, which is not the case for Brian. Brian just needs the extra time. Leaving this work for homework extends Brians night, making them 2 hour nightly marathons. It is better for him to use some day time to finish the last part of a project. She said she would phone this principal and straighten it out, she went on to say the amazing job I am doing with Brian (so I don't sue...lol) and adds Brian's file to her case study meeting for the childrens special achedemic support group on the 21st. Satisfied, we hang up and I return to work only to face my x husband who by this time has received my phone messeges and was worried I killed the man.
At first, he wan't that mad. Then, the more he thought about it the madder he got. Meanwhile, I was calming down and he ws heating up. He starts ranting about how we have been alone on this quest (really I was alone on this quest) for Brian, all the doctors, all the tests, the meetings, the arguments, the searching to find Brian his niche, finally the happiness Brian is in his own skin and finally getting the answers for him about his different mind. And last Friday it all comes together like a great Orchestral crashendo and we have what Brian needs and Brian is the happiest we have seen him since he was a little kid. We had exactly 3 days of this, and along comes the principal. "Yes, those were my thoughts", I tell him. Now he wants to kill the man. Great, he can go to jail then.
But there it was, the Bell Curve. Brian, being different, outside the norm and this principal trying to label him and bring Brian back into the norm. It really does humor me since this is suppose to be a place where minds are opened. These are the times I wish I was a millionere and could help all the kids like Brian whos minds work differently than the norm and get them the tools and support they need.
And encourage them to remain on the upper outside of the social Bell Curve....oh and grow up and marry a redhead...and treat her like a princess...and...
Until next time.
C
PS. Didn't I once say that my imaginery lover had to be great in math?
