Emmeline's been having some trouble at school and at home for the past couple of weeks; she's been irritable, uncooperative and just generally very difficult. Having bipolar disorder, this is expected; she'll have manic phases when she's very productive and energetic, and she'll have depressive phases when she's inexplicably angry, sullen and difficult to deal with. She's in one of those states right now.
Her behavior has become more than the teacher could bear, however, so he called on Monday to talk with us about it and suggested to Bonnie that she come in for a parent teacher conference on Tuesday to discuss it further. This comes following about a week of daily phone calls to report to us about the trouble he's had with her.
Bonnie asked me if I'd go instead, and I obliged, and I'm just as happy that I did. Because it turned into a typical Quashnet school gang-bang. Instead of being a parent-teacher conference, it was the teacher, a special ed department rep, the vice principal, the school adjustment counselor and the guidance counselor. And in this corner, me.
Bonnie would have felt hopelessly outnumbered.
The bottom line was that they were looking for some external cause for Emmeline's downward spiral of behavior.
"Is there anything going on at home that we ought to know about?" was the question that was posed to me.
You mean besides the beatings and abuse? I wondered to myself. Just what the hell were these people after?
I pointed out to them the facts -- that we'd been having trouble with her at home, and that we expect she's going to have difficult periods. They hemmed and hawed and prevaricated for the better part of an hour, looking to externalize her depressive behavior.
Let me explain something: When some people who suffer from bipolar disorder hit a depressive state, they shut down. They stop talking, sleep all day, don't want anything to do with anyone. Emmeline's not like that -- when she hits a depressive state, she gets irritable and explosively angry. That's just how she presents. And it's not unusual, and it's not unprecedented -- it's just one of many faces of the same unfortunate illness.
After a while the teacher changed his focus from her anger and depression to her manipulation. They use a point system at school -- something that a lot of programs implement for behaviorally challenged kids -- in which kids who act well can redeem the points they receive for good behavior for prizes, or for privileges.
I think these systems have their limits. After all, we don't live in a society where people are rewarded every day or week for good behavior. It's simply expected. But I understand the effectiveness of such a system when you're dealing with kids.
Her behavior, said the teacher, demonstrated that Emmeline was aware of the rules and was, in fact, manipulating the system towards her own ends.
Oh, for Christ's sake, I said to myself.
"My eight year old daughter isn't Machiavellian, she's bipolar," I said. "Manipulation is part of the disease."
At that point the school adjustment counselor verified the truth of what I was saying. She's done a fair amount of reading on pediatric bipolar disorder and had a better grasp on it than most of the other people in the room.
Good. Someone working with this poor kid gets it.
I don't want to paint a totally negative picture here -- we actually did come up with a few new strategies for coping with Emmeline's behaviors, including some new redirection techniques and a focus on rewarding positive behavior rather than punishing bad behavior.
But still, at the end of the day, I'm not satisfied that the "resource center" Emmeline's been segregated to is the best possible environment for her. It's the only option open at the school, however.
And, as was the case with Robert before her, I feel like not only do I have to advocate for my child's well-being, but I also have to educate the people I'm working with about what exactly the problems are here. Constantly.
