All summer, we have had several therapists (or tutors, as this particular program calls them) come into our house every weekday to work with George. They have been wonderful with him and he has so enjoyed "playing" with them. They have worked on his writing and cutting skills, how to correctly hold a pencil, categorizing, letter sounds, reciprocal conversation, and they have taught him his full name, phone number, address, school & teacher name, etc.
He has learned so much and is just soaking up every little thing they try with him. By watching them work with him, I learn ways to teach him, too. (He learned his phone number within five minutes when they let him use a cell phone to call our home phone, which they would then answer. Instant association and gratification! Why didn't I think of that?)
Today, we said a very tearful good-bye to his favorite tutor. She had the most contact with him, and the most success. She was willing to be playful with him, but kept him at his assigned task, not letting him off the hook if he whined and cheering him when he would finish. He would ask for her by name on the days they didn't meet, and seeing her face on his daily activity schedule was a sure way to get him to move along in the mornings.
She can't afford to live on the money she makes working here. The organization that employed her can't afford to give her enough hours or pay her enough for her to pay her rent. The organization that exists to help children like mine that need a little (or a lot) of help beyond what school can provide can't afford to pay their employees a living wage.
So instead of being a lifeline to kids and parents, instead of changing their lives, she will be selling them insurance. She doesn't want to and many tears were shed by everyone involved when she made that decision. But she ran out of choices. She waved good-bye with tears running down her face.
There is something very wrong with that. No, I'm not bitter, why do you ask?