Today my parents and teachers got together to discuss my 504 plan for this year.
* A 504 plan is just a document for students in case they need certain care during school
I personally do not like this whole idea at all. It’s as if they are officially labeling me as “disabled” and that is the last thing I like to be called. All of my teachers are very nice and help me out with whatever I need so I don’t see the need for making it an official contract. I guess I just don’t like my name in some file cabinet with the term “disabled” on it. I just don’t like the concept.
My 504 is pretty simple. Let me go to the bathroom. Let me drink water. Let me eat. Let me have more time on tests. Let me sit down. Don’t make me stand up. Don’t leave me alone. Don’t count all of my absences. Don’t forget I feel bad even though I look fine.
That last one is always the hardest to remember.
See, the 504 is not complicated at all. But all of my teachers, my parents, and I have to sign it.
PETER: Trying to block that reading was exhausting. I couldn’t do it. It’s impossible. ETTA: It’s not impossible. I’ve taught others. It just takes a really long time. PETER: Well, teach me. ETTA: I plan on it. I’m teaching you all. PETER: In the meantime, I want you to consider this a down payment on my first lesson. You had to give up your necklace so we could work on the laser. I wanted to make sure you got a new one. ETTA: Thank you. PETER: Worth every bump and bruise, Kiddo. ETTA: Well, you know the expression. No good deed goes unpunished. PETER: Living proof.