In December, I wrote about how James isn’t a problem to solve, but a child to understand. By now, I should be writing about progress. Instead, it’s about what happens when a school ignores warning after warning until a child finally breaks.
On Monday 26th January 2026, I handed a 32 page formal complaint and evidence pack to the Head Teacher. Its size reflects the extent of the failures James experienced for months: unmet SEND provision, punishments for SEN-related issues, ignored strategies, contradictory attendance decisions, safeguarding concerns, and communication between teachers, senior leadership, and us, so inconsistent it became harmful in its own right. It wasn’t written out of anger, but because all other routes were exhausted.
I recorded meetings, calls, and kept every email. Last year I made three complaints that were dismissed. Two concluded as “misunderstandings” or “he said/she said,” and the third, even with some evidence, reduced to vague phrases like “missed opportunities” and “not best practice.” No accountability.
James was more aware than I realised, saying, “They gaslight you over and over. Just to punish me. Your complaints do nothing.” I couldn’t disagree.
So, I had no choice. I documented everything to protect myself and, more importantly, James. I haven’t handed over the evidence, but I’ve quoted, time-stamped, and referenced it, and will provide it if requested. That alone changes things. They know it exists and is verifiable. Unless they’re certain they acted flawlessly, they won’t want to hear or read it.
As an ex-teacher, I know detailed, evidenced complaints like this means the school can’t rely on the usual dismissive narrative that protects staff over pupils. They can’t minimise it or call it hearsay. The evidence is there. They either acknowledge it or face what it exposes.
That same Monday, Hannah and I met with the Head Teacher and SENCO. We discussed outcomes, but also faced the reality in front of us: James’ emotionally based school avoidance has now escalated to complete avoidance. Every attempt triggers anxiety, upset, an argument, or dismissal.
Yet, being out of school, James is back. No explosive behaviour, panic, low moods, or family conflict. He laughs. He plays. He is James.
The moment reintegration is mentioned, the triggered responses return. That alone should tell the school everything.
The school has failed to acknowledge the extent the incidents in school have had on him. These weren’t isolated. A pattern formed:
- Staff sanctioned James for SEN‑related behaviours they already knew about.
- Last years strategies were removed without explanation.
- Teachers were unaware of his SEND plan or didn’t act on it.
- Medical evidence was dismissed.
- Emails unanswered.
- Attendance decisions contradicted guidance.
- Departments didn’t communicate.
These caused real harm:
- He was punished instead of supported.
- Left dysregulated and overwhelmed.
- His distress escalated by staff responses.
- His trust in adults — and in us — eroded.
- His anxiety grew into school avoidance.
- His sense of self collapsed until he stepped away and began to recover.
Despite this, after eight weeks of waiting for the school to acknowledge evidence sent on the 2nd December, they still haven’t acted. Eight weeks of excuses and a decision that still hasn’t been made. Eight weeks of daily reporting, anxiety, upset, and silence.
While the school stalled, the consequences didn’t fall on them.
James, portrayed as “choosing” not to attend because there was “no proof,” carries the burden. Then us, for allowing it. For months they painted that picture, offered no support, and simply recycled inconsistent actions. You would think that after realising the evidence hadn’t been responded to for four weeks, they would rush to correct it. Or at six weeks, when the Attendance Officer confirmed they were assessing it. Or at seven weeks, when the Head and SENCO were directly involved. Nothing. Eight weeks later, they still have not acted. Still no accountability.
The meeting on 26th January was the first time the school acknowledged the situation. It was devastating. They offered reintegration options easily, casually, as if these had always been available.
In September, October, and November, these options were dismissed. In December, communication stopped. They could have helped James. They didn’t. Now, when he is lost to them, they offer what was denied for months.
I fear it’s too late.
The school’s current plan:
1. Meet James in a neutral place, like Costa.
2. Reintroduce friendly staff members.
3. Build trust.
4. Visit the school site.
5. Meet new teachers.
6. Trial a flexible timetable.
7. Slowly reintegrate.
On paper, it sounds reasonable.
In reality, James won’t meet them anywhere. Not even for five minutes. They suggested coming to our home, but home is his sanctuary. He won’t allow it. We won’t force it.
So right now, we don’t know what comes next.
James is not refusing school. He is avoiding harm and distrusting adults. Until the school acknowledges, repairs, and stops repeating that harm, reintegration is not realistic.
For now, we hold a small victory — we have our boy back. The complaint is still waiting to be recognised and responded to, and we’ll see what the school chooses to do next. Let’s hope my next post is progress.
No comments:
Post a Comment