Two weeks until our big move, and I’m in the midst of what is by far the most laborious task of moving: sorting out the paperwork. This time around is extra challenging. Previously when we’ve moved, our air shipment has followed us around a week later, and the rest of our belongings our shipped after 2-3 minutes.
This time though, we’ll be heading to the states for two months, and even after we arrive at our next post, we can’t receive our belongings until after we have been accredited…some 4-6 months later. Which means we could be looking at 8 months without the filing cabinet that purports to document our lives.
So you see, the challenge of forgetting to put the right piece of paper in our luggage could be pretty critical. The problem is, paperwork is never critical until you don’t have the right one. Marriage and birth certificates are always essential. As is my naturalization certificate and our immunization records. Do I really need that reference from 10 years ago? This paperwork is taking up too much space in our already crammed luggage, and weighing us down.
And then the most critical, but cumbersome paperwork of all: the kids’ psycho-educational reports and school paperwork. Five years and two kids is easily filling two boxes, and yet, hardly capturing them at all. Because what kind of evaluation can ever capture their joy, resilience, sensitivity, and adventurous spirits? Qualities that aren’t necessarily required in the classroom, but certainly are helpful outside of it.
As I read through Pudding’s past reports, one thing keeps striking me. Each contains a sentence along the lines of “…doesn’t reflect an accurate measure of cognitive ability.” And yet, international schools, not bound by law to accept children with disabilities are always searching for those cognitive skills as evidence that a child can measure up to their peers academically. It is the reason we keep testing- to check that we are not failing her, tweaking her supports and interventions as necessary.
But if they aren’t an accurate measure…aren’t they just paper? Weighing us down.
A few weeks ago, we got some different results. Pudding’s support teacher administered the Woodcock Johnson III. A useful measure for us, because she has had this test before, and comparing Pudding to her own self has always been more meaningful than comparing her to her peers- at least in terms of deciding if our interventions are working as hoped.
These new results, however, show a dramatic improvement in her written language skills. Her mathematics and calculation skills are average, but compared to her peers she shows superior academic skills when it comes to reading, writing, and spelling.
And these results are truly amazing, more evidence that inclusion (with the right supports) is working for her. Evidence that we need to have, in order to convince international schools that she has a right to be there.
But they also add to the confusion. How will we support these strengths as well as her weaknesses? Or were we somehow already doing that without trying? Who knows. It is hard to think about these things without it adding to this constant weight- which always feels more burdensome at moving time- are we doing the right thing?
Like every other piece of paper, it captures just a tiny aspect of her. It is no more a description of her than anything else that goes in the filing cabinet. One interesting fact to add to the others, just like that her birth certificate is written in Luxembourgish.
While we ponder on the data, I’ll do what I have to with this the same as most of the other papers- scan it and save it in digital form. That way we can keep it, consider it, yet not let it weigh us down.