The more things change . . .

You know the saying about the more things change the more they stay, well, you know, the same. Somehow it sounds wiser in the French: Plus ça change, plus c'est la meme chose.

But whether it's my English cliche or the sweet girl's father's French cliche, it's still a cliche: true enough most of the time for neurotypicals that it was elevated to cliche status, but not quite so true for the sweet girl.

For her, the more things change, the more they changed.

And one assumption holds:

Change is bad.

September arrived and she went back to school.

Same school, different grade.

Same principal, different teachers.

Same gym teacher, but different gym location.

The changes were hard enough — especially having gym inside instead of at the beautiful outdoor park by the river.

And then there was the same old problem: everyone, everywhere, always always talking talking talking.

And so the September back-to-school was filled with tears. A lot of tears. Not quite so many as last year, but still plenty. Tears at home. Tears at school.

And the question that she asked last year — "Why can't kids just stay at home and learn?" — was asked again, with new and more accurate language: "Why can't I be home-schooled?"

When I told the sweet girl that home schooling isn't the answer, she asked if I would talk to her teachers to ask them to not talk so much.

And so I did. I met with the team. In the second week of school. And most of them were wonderful, but one was not so much wonderful, and she wanted to know, "Well if the language demands are too much now, how is she going to get along next year, and the year after, and in high school where the language just gets harder and harder?"

This was a deep breathing moment for me.

"Great question," I said, "And I'd be happy to make a meeting with you to talk about that when we have an hour or more to think about it, but right now we only have 45 minutes together to come up with strategies for a girl who is weeping because the language demands and the transition back to school are hard for her. I'd like to focus this meeting on strategies for this week and next week."

So it's back to school time. And here we go again: back to defending our girl's right to reasonable accommodations and a free and appropriate public education in the least restrictive setting.

Back to pre-teaching and post-teaching every night and every morning to coach her on new language.

Back to trying to figure out how to get over the social hurdles that continue to trip her up.

Back to the same routine of trying to conform.

It always strikes me as ironic that autistic people are labeled as inflexible when they are expected to adapt in an inflexible, even rigid, educational system. Who/what is inflexible here?

Sometimes I feel I need a change, a real change, not something that is just the same old same old.

I want a good school for my girl. Maybe I even want to start a good school for my girl, and other kids like her.

That would be a change. A real change.