It’s IEP season again – the time of year when those of us with children who are developmentally delayed sit down with resource teachers and various other individuals employed by the school system to discuss progress, goals, services, and plans for the upcoming school year. I’ve heard horror stories from others about having to fight for their children, but our IEP experiences have always been good. This year, however, I was worried. The resource teacher at Sarah Kate’s school, Mrs. B, had caught me at the school one day and mentioned to me that they thought it would be better to move Sarah Kate to a 504 plan.
I had no idea what a 504 plan was, but I was…suspicious. I did a little research (most of which was geared toward kids who don’t have an IEP, so it didn’t help much), appealed to Twitter for help (crickets…) and discussed it with Mr. Andi (who didn’t have much of an opinion on the subject).
So, what’s the difference between an IEP and a 504 plan?
In layman’s terms, a 504 plan doesn’t provide special services, doesn’t have the legal “teeth” of an IEP, and doesn’t address goals and objectives for the student’s education. A 504 plan essentially only provides accommodations for the disability.
I’ll admit that I went into the meeting feeling a bit adversarial. The resource teacher was there, as were Sarah Kate’s regular classroom teacher, Mrs. I, and the adaptive P.E. teacher, Mr. Bill. I asked a lot of questions, and Mrs. B was clearly taken off guard by the fact that I didn’t just smile and sign the paperwork she had prepared (not her fault – I definitely blindsided her because I’d seemed amenable to the idea when we spoke earlier).
The meeting had essentially reached what I’d call a cordial stalemate, with me unwillingly to accept the IEP, but then two things happened:
First, Mr. Bill said “Moving to a 504 would get rid of the special education label.” I thought about it for a minute and realized that he was right. Despite my desire for it to not be that way, “special ed” still has a negative connotation to most people, even if only for the hassle factor. In the second grade, that’s not a big deal, but as she gets older, it may well be.
Second, I looked over at Mrs. I, who’d been mostly quiet during the meeting. I suddenly remembered that her adult daughter was born with a significant physical disability that inhibited movement. I asked what her daughter had, an IEP or a 504, to which she replied that her daughter never had an IEP, only a 504. I pressed for more information, and she offered that the 504 was always followed and they never had any issues with it.
At that point, I was convinced.
I’ve always insisted that Sarah Kate participate fully as a typical kid, and that the accommodations made for her are only what is absolutely necessary. If I were to ask Sarah Kate what she wants, she would no doubt agree, as she already complains to me at home sometimes about the other kids helping her too much.
A 504 plan won’t set physical goals for her (although I’m sure that Mr. Bill will!), and she will miss out on receiving some therapy services through the school – that’s the downside. However, she also won’t be pulled out of class, away from her typical peers, to go to therapy (and honestly, I feel that therapy is OUR responsibility, not the school’s). She’s always been viewed as just a girl who happened to need a little extra time or assistance to do some things; now that’s how the school will see her on paper, as well.
School’s officially out for the summer now, and I’ve waved goodbye to the IEP. No worries, though – I’ll get another crack at it in a couple of years.
You’ll have to keep your readers updated on how well the 504 works out for SK and your family. My family has had good and bad experiences with IEP. I have no doubts that you will be a strong advocate for your son if the need arises. When my youngest brother (who has DS) was entering kindergarten, his district wanted to start him off in the special school district. However, the special school district had several accusations of neglect and abuse under investigation. My family refused to agree to that IEP and ultimately had to join with a few other families and the Pujols Family Foundation to get their children into the regular school district.
Ah…the “special school district” which, as a mom of a son with Ds, sounds like a euphemism for “segregation” (and apparently it was in that particular case). I’ve heard so many horror stories like that one, as well as situations where the IEP was in place, but wasn’t being followed. It all sounds well and good on paper, but the reality isn’t always what it should be.
I don’t really get the importance (good or bad) of an IEP, but I guess that’s because Malachi isn’t even close to school age. It just seems like another of countless statements of Malachi’s inability to do things typical children can do along with a few goals for what we’d like him to be able to do six months from now. But, it’s not like if he doesn’t walk six months from now that I can sue them about it. I dunno. I don’t get it.
The IEP is similar to the IFSP in Early Intervention, with the main difference being that the IFSP is intended to help a child meet developmental milestones, whereas the IEP is geared toward helping the child learn alongside their typical peers. The IEP picks up at age 3, when Early Intervention ends. As for the “good” parts of the IEP – it helps keep everyone (teachers, parents, therapists) on the same page with respect to the child’s goals and needs.
A simple example: Sarah Kate’s IEPs have always included adaptive physical education. Let’s assume that the kids in her class all have to run a set distance around the track in order to pass PE. A 504 plan will allow for the fact that Sarah Kate can’t run and provide a modification based on that (like: she has to walk 1 lap instead of running 4). An IEP would include that, but would also set goals for the adaptive P.E. teacher to work on with her (like: she will be able to walk two laps in X amount of time by X date).
But, yes, you do “get it” in that it IS another of countless statements of our children’s differently-abled-ness. That’s why I ultimately decided that the 504 was better – it makes her more typical – and I don’t think she needs the IEP for education.
You explained that so well. I have a degree in education and couldn’t explain it that well.
Thanks for the info on IEPs vs. 504 plan. I never heard of the 504. Next year we get to go through our first IEP experience. I am not looking forward to it because of 1. the “horror” stories and 2. it means Ellie isn’t a “baby” anymore but a big girl! Yikes!
I never considered an IEP for my son. When we took him in for some assessments with a neuropsychologist, she agreed that he would not automatically qualify for one but she said “If you want one, I could get you one.” Nope, I didn’t want one for a number of reasons including that it would’ve been an abuse of the system. In addition, as my son approaches high school, I really did not want an IEP on his transcript. I know colleges are not supposed to hold it against a student if there’s an IEP on their transcripts but if a college had a choice between two nearly identical candidates, except that one had an IEP, nothing will ever convince me that the IEP would not sway the decision. 504 plans do not show up on transcripts.
We did get him a 504 and I’ve been happy with it. It is not currently active because his teachers are making appropriate accommodations for him without me making them formal – but if I needed it, I can easily request a meeting and formalize the accommodations.
I’m not against IEPs when they’re necessary. In fact, I have strong opinions about people who resist getting an IEP because they don’t want the “stigma” associated with them. If it was what my son needed, I’d fight tooth and nail to make it happen. That is why we went to the neuropsychologist in the first place – to get an accurate assessment and to find some answers we needed.
So with all that said, I cheered to myself when I read this post, Andi. With Sarah Kate getting released from her IEP, that’s one more step towards “just a regular kid”. And it really acknowledges that her challenges are physical, not cognitive or mentally developmental.
I agree with you, Adrienne, about the potential stigma of the IEP. To me, it’s a lot like the ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) – although in some ways, it’s been highly beneficial because individuals with mobility issues now have access to ramps and such, it also opened the door to “passive discrimination.” Unintended consequences… As an example: if an employer is considering two equally qualified candidates for a position, they’re likely to go with the one who isn’t visibly disabled just because they perceive that person to be “more trouble” – not that the individual is more trouble, but that the costs and potential legal hassle of ADA compliance aren’t worth the risk. Studies have shown that despite it’s original intent, the wages among workers with disabilities workers have not increased relative to non-disabled workers, and the employment rate of individuals with disabilities, especially among men, has actually gone DOWN, not up, since the ADA was passed. It’s not unreasonable to think that the same holds true with regard to other competitive opportunities (like college entrance), as well. Sarah Kate doesn’t need that.
But like you said, there’s also a time and place for a true IEP, depending on the circumstances. Nathan will probably need one – most likely for all his school years – and that’s okay.