Mommy Clout

It's not too often that the title of "Mom"offers much clout. But today, it was just the title I needed.

Yesterday marked the first day of WASL (Washington Assessment of Student Learning) testing. It's serious business, something Caleb has been preparing for and I myself have spent plenty of time worrying about it. The questions can be confusing, especially for a child with processing disabilities. Caleb's IEP includes accommodations to assist him in the test-taking process. One such accommodation is that he takes the test in a private room with a paraeducator overseeing the administration of the test.

Each classroom has a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door. Several suggestions for maintaining silence are written in small print; "turn off cell phones," for example. Great effort is made to establish the best testing environment by eliminating as many distractions as possible. I can appreciate that.

I volunteer in the kids' classrooms on Wednesdays. After helping 25 kindergartners plant sunflower seeds, I left covered in potting soil (literally) to go to Caleb's class. Caleb is taking the WASL in the speech room, which happens to be half-way between Alyssa's class and his regular room. Being the ever-curious mom I wanted to sneak a peek to see how things were going. I glanced ever so quickly past the bright pink "Do Not Disturb" sign to see Caleb reading a book. It was evident that he was done with the test. I continued to his classroom where it was clear that the students there were taking one of their breaks from testing so I disregarded the sign and quietly entered.

"Perfect timing," Mrs. Knapp said. "We are just taking a break between test sections. Will you take this snack down to Caleb? He hasn't had his snack yet."

"Sure. I just peeked in on him and he was just reading a book. Does that mean he's done?"

"Yes, he's probably done. As soon as we are done with the next section, I'll send a runner down to get him."

I was excited to go see him and take him a little treat. I entered the room, ignoring the sign for a number of reasons; 1. it was clear he was not currently taking the test, 2. his teacher asked me to go, and 3. this isn't just any student, it's my son.

The immediate glare from the para sent the unmistakable message that she was not pleased by my presence. I cheerfully greeted Caleb and offered him his snack, feeling the need to also explain that I was on the errand of the teacher. She abruptly told me that he has already had his break and was not interested in a snack. While maintaining a cold stare, she explained the purpose of the proverbial sign which I had obviously disregarded. She went on to tell me that she is required to keep a record of any person that enters the room during testing, if the phone rings, etc. In other words, I was an intolerable distraction.

Feeling my defenses rise and wanting to justify my actions I said, pointing to the book, "This is part of the WASL?" I knew full well it wasn't. As she struggled to explain herself, all the while maintaining her disgust for me, I mustered all the friendliness I could manage and said, "I'm Mom, by the way." In an instant her cold stare changed to a blank one. Seconds later she was offering her apologies as the handshake of friendship was extended to me. She awkwardly explained her "impressive" five-year history of being a para who helps with the WASL.
I turned my attention to Caleb, giving him a good-bye hug. The para offered another sincere apology as I left. I felt embarrassed for this woman, she was just trying to do her job, but I laughed my way to the workroom as I thought of the powerful title of "Mom!"