Leta’s annual IEP is coming up next month.  And as I do every year, I quickly review the listed goals and objectives.  Honestly, they haven’t changed much since she was in Kindergarten.  Leta is still working on identifying the days of the week, counting pennies up to 5, staying on task at a puzzle for up to 5 minutes, and responding in two word utterances to a picture.  And each year the teachers comment  that Leta has made “very limited progress achieving these goals.”   These IEP’s used to upset me as they are the only measurable way we have to record her progress, and Leta has made few gains in 8 years. But it is no fault of the school.  Leta has mental retardation and may never have success.   But Leta is achieving far greater goals that can’t be measured on an IEP.

We live in such a data driven world, where all kids are scored:  PSAT’s. SAT’s, ACT etc…..  But what we have forgotten to track in the world of testing is a child’s emotional growth.  Leta may never hit the ball out of the park counting to 10, but she continues to hit a home run in a different sort of way.

Emotionally, Leta has grown tremendously since she started at Camphill.  Because at Camphill they do more than work on IEP goals.  They educate Leta by nourishing her soul.  Any given day that you walk into a classroom, you will find kids painting, dancing, playing the flute and lyres, acting in plays, studying art history, or going out for long walks in the woods.  Camphill’s Waldorf based education seems to awaken the spirit in each of the special kids that go to school there.  No IEP will ever be able to measure the data on this objective.

When Leta was 7 years old, she had to do a standardized test in order for her to be placed in a special needs kindergarten in the Philadelphia public school system.  The test was designed for non-verbal kids.  The answers were drawings that required no reading.  All Leta had to do was point to a drawing  that best matched the answer to a verbal question.  One question went like this:

“ Leta point to the wet dog”  and the answers were:

1. a dog in a dog house
2. a dog eating food
3. a dog in a rainstorm
4. a dog going for a walk

Obviously, the correct answer was 3) a dog in a rainstorm.

Leta looked at all 4 answers and did not respond, so the tester asked the question again.  This time Leta pointed to her mouth indicating that she was thirsty.  The tester asked Leta if she would like a glass of water and Leta said, “Yahhhhh”.  We got her the dixie cup and the very serious early intervention tester asked the question to Leta for a third time.  “Leta, point to the dog that is wet.”

Leta paused, drank from her cup of water, and instead of swallowing, she spit on the page and pointed to the dog eating food . (2 )was her answer.

This dog was now indeed very wet.  And to make matters worse leta began laughing hysterically.  And so did I.

I asked with a smirk, “Does that count as correct?” I was such a proud parent .  But the tester replied ,”NO!”  Leta and I gave each other a high-five anyway.  In my opinion she aced it.

Two weeks later, according to a City of Philadelphia letter, Leta had flunked the test and was given the official label of Mental Retardation.  She got  no credit for creativity or sense of humor.

But luckily for Leta, Camphill appreciates her kind of smarts and they get her kooky sense of humor. And each day they continue to nourish her soul.   It is just too bad that it will never be reflected on her annual IEP.