Excusal From Attendance At Iep Meetings: Fill & Download for Free

Your teachers will only view your disability as an excuse if you choose to try to use it that way. Or your parents do - I’ve seen both but more on the part of parents.Your profile says you are 13. You may not be the decider in having an IEP. It is, however, a principle that the student should, as far as possible, have a role in making and executing the IEP. In PA , once you are 14 you are supposed to attend your IEP meetings.Speaking as a retired teacher, one of the biggest problems with teachers following the IEP is unrealistic IEPs. As a simple example, students with attention problems are often given “preferential seating,” meaning close to the teacher. On multiple occasions I had classes with over half of the class getting preferential seating. In a math class I had one student with an assigned text and curriculum that was totally different from the rest of the class. Speak up at the meeting and insure that the goals and requirements are realistic whether proposed by your teachers or your parents, then try to work with the requirements.Ideally, unless you have a permanently physically disabling issue, you should be trying to work your way out of an IEP. I’ve had students with heavy IEPs that wound up by graduation with what we called “monitor only” IEPs. Unfortunately, I’ve also had ones that went the other way.A lot of what happens will result from how you and your parents use your IEP, and your attitudes towards it.That being said, every school will likely have have a teacher or two that can’t or eom’t follow the IEP. Know what your IEP calls for and talk to the teacher who manages your IEP.In short, you are getting to the point where you can and should actively participate in your IEP. It’s there because you have been evaluated as having a need for particular support. Work with that, not against it.My parents want me to do an IEP, but I don’t want my teachers to think I’m using my disability for excuses. My sister also had trouble with her teachers following hers. Any advice on what I should do?

This answer is written from the American legal perspective. Work and school settings are each a bit different. I would imagine the UK and other western countries have similar, most likely better protections for people with disabilities.The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) states that an employer must make a reasonable accommodation for a disability. ADHD might be covered in some instances, but not all. For one, you are still required to meet all the demands of the job, such as attendance and productivity. The accommodation would of course depend on the job. However, the employer has to be made aware of the disability in order for you to receive help.School however, is much different. The Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) was enacted so all children up to age 21 receive Free Appropriate Public Education (FAPE). Public schools must create Individualized Education Plans (IEP) for students with disabilities. This includes ADHD.All in all, I don’t like the term excuse, so I am not sure I answered your question. If you meant excuse as in the commission of a crime, then no, ADHD would not be a valid excuse.

As a trial attorney whose practice primarily focused child abuse, I’ve seen some really bad, bad things. Murdered babies, child and baby rape cases, true torture cases, I tell my friends that nothing fazes me or surprises me anymore. However, saying those words is like a curse, because every time I say that, along comes a new case. Sometimes death isn’t the worst thing that can happen to a child.All the names of the people here are changed, to protect their privacy.I represented a set of three siblings who were removed from their parents’ custody for general negligence. As could be expected, tragically, the boys were placed in separate homes, pretty far away from each other. Two of the boys were doing OK, and I mean “just OK” as in just getting by.The oldest boy, Jamie, age 10, was sent to live in a group home instead of with a foster family. There wasn’t anything wrong with him, there just weren’t enough foster homes available. The school called me because they said he was goofing off and playing all the time. My first thought was “boys will be boys.” Yet, when I spoke to the owner of the group home, I found her really harsh, and harsh is putting it politely.Maybe about a couple weeks later, I got a call again from the group home saying they were giving a seven-day notice that Jamie was to be out of their home. I panicked because I knew there was a desperate shortage of foster homes, especially for African American male children. I knew I had to salvage the placement if possible. My first question to the owner was why she wanted Jamie removed. She told me Jamie was screwing around, his teacher at the on-grounds school said he was calling attention to himself by falling out of his desk, and walking into people and walls, falling to the ground for no good reason, and they were tired of it. He often tried to laugh it off, but they didn’t think it was funny. I demanded that we have a full staffing to talk about this in person.I visited Jamie and told him about the complaints, but I wasn’t angry at him. I just wanted to hear his side of the story and wanted to know what he wanted me to do on his behalf. He became tearful and said he did crash into the walls and other things, but that it was an accident. He said he felt funny, but couldn’t describe how, and fell out of his desk. Same as when he fell to the floor those times. He said wasn’t trying to make a scene but these things were just happening. I asked him when was the last time he had a physical, and he said he didn’t know. That raised huge questions in my mind. I asked him what he wanted to see happen, and if he wanted to stay at the home, and he said he’d rather stay there than have to move. I gave him a hug, thanked him for sharing his thoughts with me and told him I’d do my best for him, and he could call me any time.I went forward with the full staffing a few days later, and the first thing I was told is that Jamie thinks he’s a clown. He continues to trip and fall all the time for attention and earlier that day, he was playing tag with some boys st lunch, and ran full speed into a palm tree on purpose. I asked if he was hurt, and they said he has a big bump on his head, but that’s what he gets. I became furious when I heard that. This group home charged the Department of Children and Family Services (DCFS) $10k a month[1] for Jamie’s room and board, and when a child is injured, under state licensing law, they needed to take him to the emergency room for an exam to make sure he’s OK. If any group home where any of my kids were placed didn’t do that, I’d call community care licensing and request a full investigation of their home, citing negligence, and I’d have no issue trying to get them shut down.Jamie’s social worker was as shocked as I was, as she had never heard about this incident as they never reported this to her. Ella demanded that Jamie be brought into the meeting immediately. When Jamie came in, he literally looked like he had been hit by a car. He had bumps and bruises everywhere, and the biggest knot I had ever seen on the upper left hand side of his forehead. He had lots of scrapes on him, and many scabs. My mouth dropped open when I saw him. I greeted him, got up, walked to him and he gave me a hug, slowly articulating, “This is Jojo my attorney,” to the group.Jamie’s social worker looked distressed and I know I looked furious. Ella, the social worker announced, “This meeting will stop, and I’m taking Jamie to the ER right now.” I asked Ella to call me and let me know what happened. As soon as I got back to my office, I called Community Care Licensing and made a referral about what we had just seen.Ella called me later that day telling me that Jamie’s brain had some odd markings on it that looked like port wine stains, and his brain was seriously swollen from head trauma. It turned out that Jamie has a condition called Sturge-Weber Syndrome. [2]He was taken in to emergency surgery so the neurosurgeon could drill holes in Jamie’s skull so his brain would have room to swell and then heal. A part of his skull may be removed and stored in his abdominal area so it would stay alive until it could be put back in place. Regardless of whether he’d have part of his skull removed, she said he would be fitted with a halo with screws put into his skull while he healed. I began to tremble, I was so sad and angry for Jamie and what he was put through, and felt overwhelmed that despite the thorough physical he was supposed to have had, and an interview with his mother, that this condition hadn’t been diagnosed in his history.After being released from the hospital, Jamie was taken to a different group home that provided service for children with acute medical issues. He called me, very upset one day, reporting to me that the other kids there had teased him, and told him they were going to get a screwdriver to tighten the screws that went from his halo into his skull into his brain. Some of the bigger boys actually chased him with a screwdriver, terrifying Jamie. I told him to sit tight, I was going to call Ella and get him out of there ASAP.Ella managed to get him out of the group home within days and into a medically registered and certified foster mother who was really good. I was so relieved for Jamie. Days later, Jamie called me, saying he was worried because he could hardly see anything, and he felt as if he was looking through a gray piece of fabric. My heart literally dropped into the pit of my stomach. I called Ella to ask her to get Jamie in to the doctor to see what was going on with his vision. She said she already did, and he was scheduled to have a piece of his skull removed to reduce the pressure in his skull . That was scheduled to occur within days, and Jamie was losing his vision due to complications of his Sturge-Weber Syndrome as well as pressure on his brain, and the vision loss may be permanent. [3] Meanwhile, Jamie’s spirits were up, and he was “relieved” to be set to have the halo and screws removed from his head, and eager to be normal again. I recall sitting at my desk after talking to Jamie on the phone with my eyes closed and tears flowing down my face thinking about what he was about to endure. It’s hard to say how, but sometimes you just know things.I called the Court Appointed Special Advocate’s office (CASA) [4] to tell them I needed an advocate for Jamie, explaining that he was about to undergo brain and skull surgery, was most likely going to be permanently, totally blind, and he has no parent or family members for support. The director of the CASA’s office agreed to find a good advocate for Jamie and would call me back. Within a day or two, the fastest time ever to get a CASA, I was called by Joe, who was highly versed in medical issues, as well as law and children’s issues, and would be appointed as Jamie’s Court Appointed Special Advocate. I was so thankful and relieved.On surgery day, Joe was there with Jamie beforehand, and waited in the surgical waiting room just in case something went wrong, and be there for Jamie when he awoke from surgery. Joe is a true godsend for this child. I went to the hospital right after my last case was heard. Jamie was awake, out of surgery and seemed a little nervous, but gave me a big smile when he heard my voice. He immediately piped up, “Hi, Jojo, they fixed my skull.” I told him, “I see that. How are you feeling? You look like you’re wearing a turban,” and did my best to smile at him. He grinned and said in his slow drawl, “Well, I’m OK.” Joe asked if he could talk to me in the hall, and I said “yes.”Once outside the room, Joe told me that Jamie was 100% permanently blind, but he doesn’t know if he’s in pitch black blindness or if he is legally blind but could detect shapes. He was waiting for Jamie’s therapist to let the therapist talk Jamie about the current situation. Joe wanted the therapist there, to help Jamie process the news, and he or she would identify the best way to deliver this devastating news. I was in full agreement.Meanwhile, Jamie’s social worker, Ella, was livid with Joe, because Jamie had asked for a few baseball caps to cover his head while he was bandaged up. Jamie didn’t want anyone to know what he was going through, but could handle himself just fine if he were asked questions from strangers. Baseball caps would camouflage the marks. I was disgusted. After all Jamie went through, she was twisted out of shape about a baseball cap?The social worker yelled at me too for not stopping Joe from buying the caps. She was also angry because Joe didn’t seek the surgeon’s approval before buying them, and she said the doctor would be angry because germs would be exposed to Jamie’s head too soon after surgery by wearing a cap. (Through the bandages and everything. Go figure …)I told her I will ask Joe to ask the doctor to make sure it’s OK for Jamie to wear the caps thinking it might defuse the situation. If it’s appropriate, give Jamie the caps and if it’s not, tell Jamie he could wear his caps when his head healed and the neurosurgeon gave an OK, so then he can look foreword to being able to wear them. The social worker was satisfied with that response — it gave her “power” in the situation and she could let Jamie know when he could wear his caps. The surgeon was such a doll, said Joe was very easy to interact with, and was thankful he was there. The surgeon said that after the staples and sutures came out, it would be fine for Jamie to wear caps as long as it didn’t rub or irritate any of the wounded tissue.By that time, Jamie’s mother’s parental rights were terminated, as she just couldn’t remain clean, sober and attend all her programs within the statutory time frame. This termination of her parental rights left all three children as legal orphans, which I was highly displeased about.I continued to get complaints from Jamie’s social worker that he wasn’t trying hard enough to learn the Brailler, he was crying all the time, he didn’t want to go to school, he’s lazy, he doesn’t care, etc. One day after I got another complaint call from Ella, I flipping lost my cool and blew up at her. I screamed, and I mean screamed into the phone so loud that the other attorneys in my office all crowded around my door to see what I was yelling about. “You ignorant self-centered BITCH!” I screamed. “It’s not Jamie’s job to make your life easier, it’s your job to make sure his young life is more bearable, and YOU FAILED! Yes! YOU FAILED!! You tell me how YOU would feel if you were taken away from you mom, your siblings, your school, were accused of screwing around when all the while you were having seizures and going blind but didn’t know why? Then, as if things weren’t bad enough, you got your head literally sawed open, got bullied at school and humiliated by the other kids, and then found out your mother is no longer your mother. And to ice the cake, you find out you are PERMANENTLY BLIND, and you have NO IDEA what’s going to happen to you!!! ANSWER ME!”I was shaking I was so angry, and so heartbroken for Jamie. My colleagues did nothing to calm me down, they let me scream at that social worker, and tell her that I didn’t care what county counsel (the social workers’ attorney) would say about my screaming, and I hope she tells them, and I hope she writes to the court about how loud I am, too. I told her that I know that our judge would just LOVE to hear about this, especially about how she was dismissing Jamie as being attention seeking when he suddenly started to fall out of chairs, or run into things. I dared her to go for it.When the call ended, I sat down at my desk, as I had been standing up and screaming down at the phone, I put my head in my hands and started hyperventilating and continued to tremble while I wiped my tears of anger off my face. “Good on you, Jo! You told her off and she had it coming. I would be pissed, too!” my colleagues told me, trying to be supportive.My supervisor entered my office and closed the door. She asked what was going on, aside from what she just heard. I gave her the low down, her jaw dropped, and she said I needed to walk this on to the court to let the judge know what was going on. I completed the walk-on paperwork, filed it with the court, wrote up my report, asked Joe to write up a brief report, served the parties, and got a hearing set for the end of the week.Jamie was transported to the hearing by his foster mother, and he arrived with a red tipped cane, was wearing a beanie and dark glasses. As he walked, he swayed from side to side. I gasped when I saw him, but held my composure, went up behind him, tapped him on the shoulder and said, “Boo!” as he spun around. “Hello, Jojo…” he said. I brightly said, “How’d you know it was me!?!?!” and started laughing. He said, “I’d always know you!”The hearing began, and our judge entered and took her seat. I reminded Jamie he was in the courtroom, so he has to remove his beanie. He said “Oh, yeah, I forgot,” as he pulled his hat off. I was not prepared for what I saw; I could see the exact shape of the piece of skull that had been removed from his head, and there was deep scarring along the lines of where it was replaced. Where the screws from the halo were, there were deep divets, with keloid tissue building up around it. The judge looked at Jamie, looked at me and ordered us all into her chambers and read the riot act. Ella, Jamie’s CSW, sheepishly stated that she’s also having difficulties with Jamie’s younger brother, John, because it was determined that he also suffers from Sturge-Weber Syndrome, and ever since learning this, he doesn’t “want” to behave. He uses it as an excuse to act up. Instead of cross-talking with the CSW, I told the judge that I’ve been in contact with John (age 8) and he’s terrified that he’s going to have the same thing happen to him as what happened to Jamie, so it’s totally understandable. I had already applied for a CASA for him as well.We went back out to the courtroom, the judge admitted my report, Joe, the CASA’s report into evidence, then ordered a full-scale investigation into the handling of this matter, and a 30-day progress return. She had words of encouragement for Jamie, and I asked for a full psychological screening for him with all appropriate mental health treatment, especially to deal with loss, occupational therapy and physical therapy to follow. I also asked for an IEP (Individualized Education Plan) as well as a Regional Center assessment because of the seizures. The court agreed, and made the orders.Jamie’s foster mother eventually adopted him, and he continues to thrive in her care. Jamie remains blind, 100% sightless, his scarring profound. After he settled into his blindness, and received lots of therapy, he learned Braille and how to use the Brailler (a special typewriter that types in Braille). And, I’m crying like a baby as I write this story, all my frustration, sadness, and pain are stirring up again. That group home Jamie was in no longer exists, but I don’t know and don’t care about why it’s closed.No child deserves to undergo such medical and emotional neglect. If his condition were properly diagnosed instead of blown off and reported as the child goofing off, something different might have happened. Jamie might not have had to endure all this suffering — I’m not a doctor, so I can’t say for sure. But, I’m confident it would have been handled differently. I’ve handled many, many abuse cases, but Jamie’s absolutely destroys me.Jamie was just 10 years old when this happened. I still believe it didn’t have to happen.Footnotes[1] http://www.cdss.ca.gov/Portals/9/FCARB/Lists/GHList.pdf[2] Sturge-Weber syndrome[3] Sturge-Weber Syndrome[4] CASA of Los Angeles