Here it came. The induction day at the Academy. I must
say, the school thought it through. The year 6 children
have been to the Academy for a whole day. Next week
they come for two days and the week after, they will
spend three days there. The timetables will be kept for
September. I thought - "Wow, it could not be better than
that for my stuck in her ways girl. She will meet the new
kids, see the school and get the idea of the new school
life and system, instead of being thrown into the deep
water and left to deal with it." I was confident and excited
for her. I was positive. Till Monday...
We got up early, actually, for once Cirwen knocked on
my bedroom door, fully dressed at six o'clock asking
if I could help her to find a belt for her jeans... She was
all excited and ready to go. All packed, happy to show
off her new "Twilight" lunch box and see the new school.
We happily caught the bus, and both looked for landmarks
to help us remember the way and where to get off. We did
the same during the walking part of the journey. We were
half an hour early... It wasn't a problem though, as the older
Academy pupils were waiting for the newcomers to round
them up and usher them to the main hall.
Cirwen confidently exchanged "Hello's" with them, asked
a few questions, and then her greeting was completely
ignored by two arriving girls. Noses in the air they looked
other way. I had to go. I could not hang around of course.
I left with a very heavy heart. Cirwen was standing alone
between the two groups of children who obviously new
each other from their street or primary school. She still
assured me she would be fine.
I spend the rest of my day going about my usual domestic
stuff and playing with my Little Dragon, trying to pretend
I'm not worried. But I couldn't help it! What if she will be
just left alone all day, because she's the kid from different
school? What if she bursts into tears at the slightest jest
about her looks or the way she talks which will give her the
cry baby status for the rest of her school life? What if...?
What if...?
3pm came later than usual. Time was dragging cruelly.
Finally, I was there. at the gates, waiting to see her face.
waiting to see the expression on her face.
There she run up to me... Huge grin, skip, "It was brilliant!",
she exclaimed. And my legs buckled and I hugged her to hide
my tears. She made it through the first day. Cirwen made
8 friends (obviously it means these were the girls who she
immediately got on with), she loved every minute of it. One
teacher, she said, freaked her out a bit. "He was just too nice,
but then he became a bit more bossy, so I thought he's OK",
she explained. That made me laugh. He must have invaded
her personal space. For an autistic girl it doesn't have to be
really, really, almost touching close. He crossed the boundary
of her safety bubble she established for people.
Anyway, I am again positive. She can't wait to go back next
Monday.
I know I worry too much, and my girl may be not so vulnerable
as I think. I guess as much as Cirwen needs to be independent,
I have to learn not only how to enforce it, but how to get used to
her independence.
You should stop worrying, she is a tough cookie :)
ReplyDeleteGlad it went so well. Augurs well for the future I hope.
ReplyDeleteThank you both
ReplyDelete