Dealing with the Wicked Witch

There's an LAUSD official whose gaze's meaning eluded me until very recently when I realized that she looks, in gaze ONLY, like the Wicked Witch of the West.

I received a letter several weeks ago stating that Sophie's Community Based Instruction class (hereby called CBI) was going to be split up and the ninth and tenth graders would be starting with a new teacher in a new room and their program would no longer be CBI.  Sophie just transitioned from middle school to this school last fall, and the reason why we enrolled her there, besides for the fact that it's our neighborhood high school, is that we really liked the teacher and the idea that Sophie would be active and out in the community. We have less than three months of school left, and the idea of her leaving this class and, effectively, starting all over with a brand new teacher made me simultaneously upset and weary to the bone.

Why? Well, as anyone dealing with school districts might know and anyone dealing with the Los Angeles Unified School District knows for sure and anyone dealing with special education issues knows for double-sure, one must strip naked, push one's heart to the outside of one's shirt and grow several layers of thick skin to deal with the powers that be.

I began making calls the following day and spoke to roughly five individuals who, when they weren't passing me back and forth from the actual high school administration office to Downtown (where the entire district offices lie and which perhaps resembles a windowless OZ, peopled with strange and striving automatons, terrified of climbing out of the little boxes in which they work) peppered their conversations with stock phrases like "it's District policy" and "we believe we know what's best in this situation," and "where did you hear that?" "you'll have to speak to Downtown," and "you'll have to speak with the school principal" and my favorite of all:

If we give you what you believe is right for your child (stay in her classroom with her teacher), everyone will want that as well.

This was about the time I needed to stamp this official's desk with

I had to apologize, eventually, to that official for interrupting her so much (it's one of my - wince - biggest faults). I was angry and very, very frustrated. I finally spoke with the principal and he told me, wearily, that he'd get back to me this week. He sounded so much like the Man Behind the Curtain that I felt a little sorry for him. I feel sorry, actually, for anyone that has to deal with me when I'm angry and frustrated.

I learned from a special education advocate that a child's education program -- in this case, the Community Based Instruction -- cannot be changed without the parent's written approval on the IEP. 

I learned today that Sophie will be staying in the class where she is thriving. Apparently, I won. Although fighting about such absurd things makes me feel more like this: