By 2013, things reached breaking point. No amount of behaviour interventions at school were helping my kids, the school had 2 special classrooms set up, the 'nurture' rooms, and my kids were being 'educated' away from their classrooms. I say 'educated' but that isn't strictly true, they were being isolated and managed. Physical restraint was used as a threat and a punishment. Comply, or be pinned down helplessly by stronger adults. My relationship with school was in the bin, and I quit working there. I couldn't watch my children be carried by their arms and legs, kicking and screaming, to a padded room, any more, and not intervene. I was arguing with staff at school, my once good reputation in tatters, along with my mental health. What was going on here?
In March 2013 I was called to an appointment at City hospital, to discuss the findings of the previous years ADOS assessments. There I was informed that all 3 of my kids had a number of neurological conditions, all had ADHD, D was significantly dyslexic, B was autistic, and K had confirmed PDA. Every condition I had queried in the previous 6 years, had been diagnosed, and more. My kids were not naughty, they were autistic. And Sharon Jackson had been punishing their autistic behaviours using physical force. I felt sick. Then the anger started. A ball of fire deep in the pit of my stomach, began rising. You've ordered your staff to hurt my disabled kids, to physically punish them for their disabilities. Anger turned to rage. I stormed into school.
The meeting I ended up in, was more like a witch trial. There was me, facing 8 members of staff, in the nurture classroom. I eyeballed every single person in that room, all child abusers, all punishing a disabled child for not understanding. I oozed hatred and spat venom;
"It's this simple. Take your filthy child abusing hands off my kids, or I take them out of this jail of a school and the funding goes with them"
At that time, additional needs was fully funded, and Sharon was claiming thousands extra funding on the back of my kids difficulties.
"How do we keep K safe if we can't physically handle him?"
The meeting deteriorated, and I ended up deregistering the boys. I set up another home school and informed the Local authority I was home educating.
Nottinghamshire social services were contacted (by school). The service that had repeatedly assessed us every year before closing on us without any help or support, the service that claimed diagnosis wasn't necessary for support needs to be met, the service that refused every year to do a needs assessment, choosing instead to focus solely on child protection, suddenly wanted to help. The diagnosis of autism suddenly warranted another assessment, and if I refused to jump on another one of their box ticking, paper exercises that led nowhere for us, well then I'd not be putting my kids needs first then, would I.
Except I has been screaming about my kids needs for years, to deaf ears. CAMHS reports from 2009 and 2010 literally stated "mum queries ASD, ADHD, Dyslexia and PDA", yet CAMHS, in their wisdom, thought it was likely parenting issues, and recommended I go on a course.
Now we had official diagnosis, they suddenly want to help? No mate, not again. My kids had experienced sustained, traumatic abuse, in the place where they should have had 'the best years of their lives'. Not only that, I'd stood by and allowed it to continue. Vindicated in everything I'd been saying, I politely told them to fuck off. I had some making up to do to my boys, we needed time to heal.
Sharon Jackson didn't like that though. She wasn't happy that I was exposing her abusive school policies, and she didn't want to lose the control she had over my boys. So she went to social services, and together they concocted a child protection conference, based on 'hidden emotional abuse at home'. Her and social work manager Sandra Stocken, were after my boys.
I received a letter in early June 2013, informing me of an Initial Child Protection Conference on the 11th June, in Basford Nottingham. For the first time, I felt the urge to run. I had a bad feeling. Social services were already gaslighting me, and I just felt something was coming, I thought, they're going to wind me up to the point of explosion, and use it to take the kids. Even I thought it sounded paranoid, but my intuition just wouldn't let up. I packed all the camping gear, some clothes, left money for T who was doing A-levels at this point, woke the kids at 5am and told them we were going camping. We drove north, to Filey.
At 9am, Sandra Stocken was at my door, asking T where his brothers were. We dodged a bullet that day. The kids loved camping, so they just thought we were having a spontaneous holiday. While they played and slept, I kept watch like a meerkat. I knew I had to return on the 11th to face their lies. My kids were safe, for now. But the fight was on.
I turned to social media, calling out for help. I felt alone, and didn't understand why we were being targeted in this way. The first person to reach back to me, was Paul. It was a simple message, but one that changed everything. He said, "please believe, you are not alone. They've done this to me, and many others. You've done nothing wrong, they want your kids"
And slowly, as I heard the same from more and more people, it started making sense...