Free Not Stupid by Anna Kennedy Page B

car helped to settle the boys quickly, and they both fell asleep.
    Although this gentleman knew nothing of autism, he was very interested to hear more about this developmental disorder as we chatted along the way. When we eventually arrived at my parents’ home, I offered him some money as a contribution towards his petrol costs but he wouldn’t hear of it, and was happy just to wish our family luck in the future. In the end, all he would accept was a spare bottle of Italian wine and a panettone that I insisted he take in return for his kindness.

Chapter Four
Battling Bureaucracy
    I t was hardly surprising that there would be plenty of matters to raise when Sean and I attended Patrick’s annual review at St Mary’s School in June 1997, but the revelation that he had been diagnosed three years earlier with Asperger Syndrome without our knowledge really knocked us both for six – and that’s putting it mildly.
    Now we knew.
    One of ours sons had autism, the other Asperger Syndrome. While recognising some parents of children with debilitating conditions face far worse situations than autism, at the time we couldn’t help thinking how things could get any worse. Well, as far as Hillingdon Borough Council was concerned, it seemed some councillors were prepared to prove things could, indeed, get far, far worse if they were to have their way.
    We first became aware of the barriers about to be put before us when it was time to try and get Angelo into mainstream education at St Mary’s School. Angelo had already attended thenursery at the school, as I was keen to help him establish some form of interaction with other children.
    His time at the nursery had not been without incident, though. One day, after managing to leave him there with a one-to -one support, I returned later in the day to pick him up, only to be informed by one of the support workers that he had gone missing for half an hour.
    They had been so worried that he might even have left the premises but eventually they found him locked up in a galvanised shed full of bicycles, scooters and outdoor equipment – and it had been a boiling-hot day. Because Angelo had very little ability to speak, he had been unable to shout for help, as all the toys had been piled up in front of him.
    I remember the looks on the faces of the staff at the nursery. They had been so shaken up by the incident and were, to say the least, very relieved to have found Angelo safe and well.
    After I enquired about the possibility of Angelo joining Patrick at St Mary’s School, we received a letter telling us that they didn’t feel they would be able to meet Angelo’s more specialised needs.
    We were told he could be kept for a further term in the nursery because his needs were ‘too complex’ to handle in a reception class, but the afternoon sessions would not be a guarantee of full-time admission and would be subject to regular reviews. A taste of what was to come arose when I was informed by a statementing officer, ‘You might as well take that extra term, Mrs Kennedy, because no one else wants your son.’
    If I could have put my hand down the phone and strangled her, I would have done so. I was livid, frustrated and hurt all atthe same time that someone could say something like that to me, particularly as this was in the wake of my reading all about the importance of early intervention. What a nasty thing to say! I was grateful to the nursery for offering Angelo the option of an extra term but speaking to this statementing officer made me feel as if she was just writing off any chance he might have for his future.
    A number of meetings and assessments were held to establish the best way forward with Angelo’s development. Because he would still not allow other children to come near to him and was showing only flickers of ability with words and numbers, it was considered that he was very much a baby, stuck emotionally at 18 months in development. This was particularly obvious whenever