Coping is not the same as thriving

This week, one of my children needed collecting early from school. Not refusing. Not in crisis. Just overwhelmed, and unable to keep going for one more afternoon.

So I found myself juggling a school collection with trying to work, while managing a whining puppy and hoping the neighbours weren’t losing patience. The usual chaos of a life lived at full stretch.

And it got me thinking about how familiar that phone call from school is. Not just in our house. In thousands of houses.

Because there’s a lot of noise around SEND at the moment. The Government’s White Paper. A consultation that parents poured their hearts into without feeling listened to. Money spent on PR campaigns while families wait for answers.

And sitting underneath all of that noise, we’ve got children there are not enough specialist school placements for. Children who are out of school. Children struggling to attend full time. Children who are not being understood, who are isolated, who are experiencing mental health issues. Children who are masking all day and falling apart at home.

And behind them, families who are not being supported. Not being believed. Parents carrying the load, having to give up careers and work, taking that financial hit at a time when everything already costs more.

These are the children struggling in mainstream school because their needs just aren’t being met. Anxious, overwhelmed, masking just to get through. Coming home exhausted, their self-esteem in pieces. Coping, but not thriving.

The problem is, so many of these kids are too specialist for mainstream, but not specialist enough for a specialist placement. They’re the ones who fall through the cracks. The SEN-betweeners.

Special school places are reserved for the most extreme cases. The children who are completely out of school, in crisis, or showing such extreme distress that the system has to take notice.

But what about the ones who are still attending, even though it’s breaking them? What about the ones who are falling apart quietly? The ones who hold it together until they can’t, and need collecting early?

These are the forgotten children. Not thriving. Often not even happy. Just stuck.

And as parents, we feel helpless. Because unless our child reaches crisis point, unless they stop coping completely, it’s like nobody listens.

I know this because we’re living it. One of my children reached crisis, couldn’t attend for years, and finally got a place in a specialist school. My other child? Not “extreme enough.” Not “making enough noise.” Not upsetting the system enough to be seen.

So we stand by and watch. We see them cope less and less. We lose a little more of them every day.

We’re lucky. We have a wonderful mainstream primary that listens and tries. But September is creeping closer, with new teachers and new classrooms, and secondary not far behind. And I find myself wondering how we keep doing this when there aren’t enough places, enough funding, or enough understanding.

Because right now, it’s not fair. And it’s breaking families who are already hanging on by a thread.

If this sounds familiar, you’re not alone.

You are not imagining it. You are not failing. You are parenting a child the system wasn’t built for, and carrying a load most people never see.

So this week, while you keep showing up for them, please be kind to yourself too.

I’m walking this path with you, as ever.