The End of an Era

In a few short days,  Elin is leaving the class she has resided in for over eight years and in September, is moving to secondary school.

Someone once told me they thought we were really ‘lucky’ that Elin had a school she could go to. That there were schools ‘around’ that catered for children with her needs.

No.

Elin and her friends have a right to expect an education (a good education) just as much as any other child. Its not luck, it’s a legal requirement.

What IS lucky is that school happened to be Ysgol Y Canol. That, to me, was lucky. There was no choice for us back in 2011 when we were looking at schools. There was only one in the area which would come close to meeting her needs. I found this really difficult, because it was obviously not the school I had planned on her going to. She was supposed to be going to the school in our village, which we had naturally just always assumed our child would attend, which I had attended, which my Mum still worked at. It was all going to be so perfect, Mum would be there after school for her, or if she needed someone, and we could even take her down there on her bike when she was old enough.  Realising Elin was not going to attend this school after all was like a yet another punch to the gut, so before Elin even started school there were huge emotional connotations for me surrounding the subject.

Despite our teaching backgrounds, neither of us had any real experience with ALN schools/units. When we went to look around Ysgol Y Canol we didn’t know what to expect, I was really nervous.  I was acutely aware if we weren’t sure about it that we had very few other options, which added extra pressure to the situation.

However, regular blog readers will know how this story turned out.  From the moment we got through the door it was pretty clear this was not a school, it was a home.

Just as a home is not a home because of what it looks like, but instead who is inside it, so a school cannot in the end be measured by its facilities, but by the staff.  The staff at Elin’s school are her family and we are devastated to say goodbye. “As many hands build a house, so many hearts make a school”.  This is so true for Y Canol. The love there was palpable.

From that day when we arrived full of trepidation about handing over Elin to strangers for the first time ever, to her last emotional couple of weeks, Ysgol Y Canol has provided us with nothing but excellence, believing that nothing but excellence was what Elin and her friends were owed and deserved. When you have a child with complex needs, a good school can be life changing.  To the Y Canol staff-  you changed Elin’s life. You gave her something we couldn’t, you gave her independence, you gave her a meaningful experience each and every day outside of the family home. You taught her so much, showed us what she could achieve and, early on, how her life could be. Right from our first visit, we could see there was no room for sorrow in this school. Only celebration. Nobody commiserated us, nobody patronised Elin. We were made to feel like we belonged there. For the first tile in Elin’s life our family experience was a normal one. You gave us as parents the most incredible understanding, support and care over the years too. She was two when she came to you, we were still traumatised from our lives being turned upside down following her birth. You helped to heal our family, you helped to mend two broken hearts. School quickly became something I could cross off my list of things to feel sad about.  It was a big one to be able to cross off.  I can never fully express my gratitude for this. School has been the constant anchor in the years of stormy seas we have weathered together as a family. You grounded us.

Now Elin is leaving for secondary school and we can hardly believe it. She is so ready for new challenges and has a fab secondary school to go to. We are excited about the new chapter in her life. But Elin leaves a tiny piece of herself behind at Y Canol- a piece of her heart, and we leave a piece of ours too.

We will miss you beyond measure and we will never, ever forget what you did for Elin and for us.

Thank you all, for everything.

Ruth xx

Why I love Elin's school

Recently Elin came home from school with a photo which reminded me of just how much I love her school. Having a local school like hers is just a crazy stroke of good fortune. It's the sort of school that, if you have a child with PMLD, you'd be getting on 'Right Move' and looking to up sticks just so that your child could attend. So we are enormously grateful that it just happens to be in our town and that Elin was enrolled at two and a half years old.
Regular readers of the blog will know that I have waxed lyrical about the school many times in the past. It's hard to describe what they have provided over the years for Elin with their ethos of inclusion and high standards of education. Each child, regardless of ability, is fought for, nurtured, encouraged, developed, taught and most importantly, loved.  This ethos was initially created by one of the most dedicated champions of the rights and needs of children with PMLD in education as you are ever likely to meet. Wendy Jones, the Head of Elin's school until her retirement last year, quite literally created (down to designing the new building of the school herself a few years ago to suit the children in the best way possible) a place where children like Elin could flourish and never ever be seen as less able, less important, less in any way. She spent her whole career cultivating a place of equal rights, of celebrating children with severe disabilities, of pushing boundaries and making children the best they could be. In fact, the school's motto is 'Working together to be the best we can be'. The Head accepted nothing less than excellence when it came to the teaching of her children at the school and we parents observed nothing less than excellence as a result. The staff too are amazing and if you ever want to see the epitome of 'Teamwork' just pay them a visit. It is not a school, it is a family. In addition to the outstanding teachers (that's official, ask the Estyn inspectors) there is an army of teaching assistants, each one assigned as a key worker for every child, each one like a personal guardian angel. The work they do day in, day out on a 1:1 basis with the children is sometimes incredibly difficult for them but always beyond compare. We joke about Elin's key worker being her second Mum. But when you consider the hours Elin spends at school every week, she actually is. There's nobody we'd rather hand the reigns over to outside of family for six hours a day in terms of caring for our girl.  It's little wonder to me that years ago the school became widely regarded in the circles of special needs education as a centre of excellence and somewhere that people came to observe good practice from all over Wales (and probably further).  The Head of the mainstream part of the school, Mrs Thomas, has also for years and years worked equally hard to create an excellent and revered environment for learning. She values and has carefully fostered the partnership with the special needs unit above anyone's expectations. This part of the school, too, has been named as outstanding and rightly so. Along with the incredible senior management team Mrs Thomas is just as dedicated as ever to maintaining this reputation and continuing to work in the very best interests of the children, since the sad retirement of Wendy last year. I would like to say this is the 'norm' for special needs school's but I know for a fact it isn't, though of course it should be. We know how lucky we are.
One of the most important things the school holds dear is inclusion. I have blogged about this before. The Christmas concert and Sports Day being examples of when I have seen it in action (find my post about the Christmas concert and the why I love the relationship between the children here). But the truth is there is a dedication to inclusion that runs through each working week at Elin 's school. I have been frequently told that the children from mainstream have been desperate to come and play with Elin. I know that sometimes in the past coming to play with Elin has been a chosen 'Golden Time' reward. These children are CHOOSING to play with Elin in their own time. The staff encourage the friendships as equal, in no way are the children like Elin seen as people they should feel sorry for. They get as much out of playing with Elin as she does. It's not even a big deal to them.
But it's a massive deal to us.
The nature of Elin's school is that the children in her class are not really able to interact in the usual way with one another. Although they clearly enjoy being around each other and regularly take part in activities together, most are non-verbal. This means that Elin only hears adult voices. She only really 'plays' with adults. That is until the children from mainstream come in. Children bring with them an energy, an innocence, an exuberance that Elin absolutely thrives off. If it wasn't for these kids she would be missing out on that. But in the true style of her school they won't have her missing out on anything. So along they come, reading to her, talking to her, playing with her. She is just one of them.
It's difficult to describe how this makes you feel as a parent. We all know the benefits of inclusion for children, it goes without saying. But nobody talks about the benefits for the parents. That we get to see Elin doing exactly the same as the other children. That she doesn't need to sit out of Sport's Day, that I can proudly show off the Sport's Day photo's like all my Mum friends. That she is not segregated by the fact she has wheels where her feet should be. She is in the school play and her class are taking part in the careers day, or the World book Day fancy dress, or taking part in imaginative play together, or the fun day at the end of term.
How can you explain what that means, as a Mum? Something that really upset me when she was a tiny two year old going off to Nursery was that everything I knew about primary school would be 'different' for Elin. Everything would feel 'alien' and she wouldn't get to do all the things my friend's kids were doing, the things I did when I was young, the things I was doing with my classes as a teacher myself.  But it turns out I was wrong and I can't explain how happy I am that I was wrong. Elin hasn't missed out on a single thing. I can't say anything meaningful enough to convey what Elin's attendance at this school has meant to us over the years. Her inclusion and her worth there. But I can say thank you.
Thank you for working together as a school to give my daughter moments like this, which make us cry when we see the photo in her home school diary because it's just so wonderful. Not only for her, but for us too. Look at the faces of these lovely boys during a "Grease" dress up afternoon-they are so proud to be with Elin! There is zero pity there. I've been told that one of them in particular has been her friend since they were tiny, actively seeking her out to 'look after' during shared school time.You see, when we see photograph's like this, we just don't feel so very different. We feel included.

***EDIT***  Before publishing this blog, I wrote to Mrs Thomas to ask permission to use the above photograph. In a move that typifies the thoughtful attitude of the school, I did not just receive a letter or phone call back from her. I received a phone call from all four boys pictured. As they took it in turns to come onto the phone and speak to me an EXTREMELY large lump formed in my throat! They told me that they would be 'very happy' for their photo to be used in my blog. They said they were proud to know Elin, that they felt lucky to be part of such a school, that they looked forward to visiting Elin and her friends. Playing with Elin and the other children is one of their favourite things to do at school they told me. One boy said, and this is a direct quote 'When I see Elin her smile just brightens up my day'. 

Wow.

Her smile brightens up our day, too.

Thank you.
xxxxxxx