Culture begs for conformity

Disappointment and defeat turns to healthy defiance

Summer 1999 

Last year at this time, we embarked on a journey. We had spent two full years preparing for the journey and I had hoped that, because of the preparations having been made, this would be an exciting adventure. 

Over the past year, we travelled through uncharted territory into a culture that is tremendously different from any I have ever known. Although the language seemed to be the same as my own, the subtle meanings of many of the words often eluded me. It took until very recently for me to realize that, although I understood the words, I was missing their intrinsic message. We were in high school. Things are different here. 

In Grade 7, we began preparing Laura for the transition to high school. We began by talking about the upcoming changes any time an opportunity presented itself. We talked about the things that would change: the building, the teachers, the staff, the kids, the subjects. We had conversations with other kids already in high school. We encouraged Laura’s Circle of Friends to discuss their hopes and fears. We set goals for independence. We made changes to the Individual Education Plan (IEP) to reflect the upcoming transition and the goals we were working towards. By Grade 8 graduation, we were ready. We were pumped! Let the adventure begin! 

At first, the adventure seemed doomed. A labour dispute meant that the journey’s commencement would have to be postponed. Even when the dispute was resolved, the road seemed to be riddled with obstacles that hampered our progress. Undaunted, we plodded on. 

Every journey ever attempted has been a challenge for us. Laura has great difficulty with any change, large or small. The journey into high school was no exception. True to form though, Laura overcame her anxieties and, before long, the new smells and sounds, rules, activities and people were just part of her day. The two years we had spent preparing Laura certainly were paying off. The adventure had finally begun – for her. 

As Laura settled into this new environment, I too began to relax and take note of our surroundings. This was a beautiful place, full of colour and light and energy. The people were friendly and informative and always helpful. Yes, I think I was finally ready for the excitement of a new adventure. I was ready to get down to the task of scouting out this new environment, to feel out the natives, to make some friends and immerse myself in their day-to-day goings-on. 

But wait. The more involved I became, the more I began to feel uncomfortable. Something didn’t feel right. But what was it? It eluded me at first. Then, after spending some time thinking about it, I realized what it was – the culture.  

But, what exactly was different about this culture which, on the surface, appeared so similar to the culture I had known for so many years. I had spent so much time focusing on Laura’s needs that I had forgotten to prepare myself! I had some work to do before I could find my place in this new environment. 

As I stretched my legs, looked around and explored, I gave no thought to how I might fit into this place. I naively assumed that this new environment could easily accommodate my expectations and little idiosyncrasies. Indeed, why wouldn’t they when the literature described conditions perfect for such accommodations: parents are the prime educators of their children; all children are accepted for who they are; the team approach has been adopted; the regular classroom is the placement of first choice; curriculum will be modified to meet the needs of the identified student.  

I gave no thought to how these statements might be interpreted in this new land. I certainly gave no thought to how my presence might intrude upon their interpretation. 

Eventually, I found that the culture seemed to beg for conformity. I felt an unspoken expectation to conform to the natives’ traditional interpretation of inclusion, involvement and team. The difficulty was that the traditions had not been fully explained to me and once understood did not make a great deal of sense to me and Laura’s team.  

Rightly or wrongly, I began to form perceptions about how this new culture was different from my own. In this new environment, it seemed that it was normal for parents to cease to be as involved as they once had been during the elementary school years. The “team” seemed to consist of only school and school board staff, with leadership provided by school staff. “Outside” people, key members of Laura’s team for years, seemed to be dismissed, the importance of their role not fully understood. Expectations regarding goal-setting and achievement of outcomes seemed to be minimized. A wait-and-see attitude seemed to be adopted. Ongoing assessment of progress seemed to be an afterthought. Maintenance of continuing, consistent and co-operative communication seemed to be a challenge. 

Naively, I had begun this journey with many assumptions. I had assumed that the work I had done building Laura’s team over the previous nine years would carry over into this new environment. I had assumed that my leadership would be sought and encouraged. I had assumed that all team members, old and new, would be involved in the planning, implementation and ongoing maintenance of Laura’s IEP. I had assumed that all new team members would enthusiastically embrace and support our family’s mission statement which strives to ensure a future with less dependence on service providers (“Our family is committed to increasing each member’s health, well-being and interdependence while simultaneously working toward fewer paid people being a part of our lives”). I had assumed that together we would work towards achieving identified goals and that we would find a way to identify when we got there. Assumptions with very high expectations. 

Much was done to accommodate my expectations – a credit to the natives of this new and different land. However, despite my attempts to ignore them, two sentences kept popping uninvited into my head: “When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” and “Resistance is futile; you will be assimilated.” I had a feeling that the underlying message of the many accommodations made for us was one of reluctant acquiescence. Despite the assurances to the contrary, I felt it would be easier if we would just conform to the ways of this land. I felt confused, angry, disheartened and discouraged. Could I possibly be expecting too much? 

I spent the next several months trying to fully understand the reason for my confusion and uneasiness. After much introspection, my disorientation, disappointment and defeat soon turned to a healthy defiance. I will stay true to my methods and mission. I will “do as the Romans do” only as long as it fits into the plan we have for Laura’s future; I will not forego my principles. I will learn the language of this strange land; I will not abandon my own. I will communicate my concerns and passions and beliefs; I will not deny others theirs. I will, to the best of my ability, enjoy my stay. I will adopt some of the ways of the natives, and maybe, along the way, these strangers will choose to adopt some of mine. 

I will retain my naïveté, choosing to believe that this journey is still meant to be a great adventure.