Dear readers, unteachable – when Nina heard this word used to describe her son, her world fell apart. Her son is highly gifted and has ADHD – and was considered unteachable. Here, she tells us how this word affected her, what really helped her and what the situation is like today. She has also written about all her experiences in the book „BESONDERS“ (SPECIAL), from which we are allowed to publish a short excerpt here.
My child was considered unteachable
„When the word ‚uneducable‘ was hurled at me in a support meeting, I didn’t know that it would stay with me for years to come. Not just as a term, but as a feeling: powerlessness, guilt, disorientation. I was the mother of a child who fell through every crack in the system – and suddenly it seemed as if I was falling through them too.
Leo has recently taken to playing chess. I feel cornered. My chest feels tight and I feel like I’m suffocating. Everywhere I look, I see a wall. So now it’s official – at least verbally: Leo is uneducable.
With these words ringing in my ears, I walk home from the support group meeting. I think about the report of violence. I go over the words in my head again and again – what does it mean? What exactly does it mean? What consequences will a report of violence have for Leo? And above all, what options are there now? No matter where I turn in my mind, I always come up against this damn wall. I can’t think of any possible course of action. I still feel dizzy. When I get home, I sit down on a chair and remain there – for a very long time.
I feel a sense of despair slowly spreading through my whole body, creating a kind of inner paralysis. There are no tears, no anger, no cry for help. There is simply nothing. It feels as if I have suddenly become invisible. I am a woman of action. Someone who doesn’t give up, who believes in goodness, in support, in solutions and in the impossible. But at this moment, I have run out of energy and, above all, any imagination for a solution. I can’t even imagine a solution anymore, let alone fight for one. My head is empty. No more ideas come, there is nothing.
I can no longer feel where my body ends and the air around me begins. At this moment, everything is one or everything is nothing. I have dissolved inside, because that is the only way I can bear this situation, the only way I can cope with this feeling. It is midday. I should really eat something and sit down at the computer and finally start working. My colleagues have probably already sent me several emails and there is a concept that needs to be worked out. But my body won’t obey. Nothing. Nothing works. My stomach feels like a hole. I have virtually dissolved.
„Unteachable,“ I think, „UNTEACHABLE. What does that mean? I don’t mean the meaning of the word, but what does it mean for us? What happens now? What should we do? There must be a solution, there always is. There is compulsory schooling. How can this be?“ At the helpers‘ meeting, none of the seven pairs of sharp-eyed people could tell me. „Why is there no one here to talk to? Is it my job to take care of this? How am I supposed to take care of something that is compulsory and assigned to me by the state (as my father used to say)? And if I have to take care of it, why can’t I find out anywhere how? Where?“
This is an excerpt from my book BESONDERS (SPECIAL) and it describes a state I remained in for about three more months – a time full of despair and helplessness.
The word „uneducable“ haunted me day and night. Not only in relation to my child, but also to myself. I found it difficult to find hope. Above all, I questioned my competence as a mother – even though we had received the diagnoses early on, submitted applications and sought support. Even though we had done everything that is expected of „committed parents“.
At some point, I understood: this word does not describe a person. It describes a moment when a system no longer has an answer. But there is still a way. Our path took detours, through places that felt like end stations – including the multi-therapeutic small class, a place that was frightening and made conformity seem more important than understanding. It didn’t really help – but it showed me something: that I had to regain my strength.
The first step was learning about the diagnosis and the symptoms. But what really helped me was awareness and acceptance. Awareness enabled me to empower myself and gave me the strength to deal with the situation in a targeted manner, to take the meta-level and act instead of just reacting. Consciously observing my child’s behaviour, needs and peculiarities and using this knowledge in a targeted manner to improve the situation step by step.
Acceptance means seeing things as they are and accepting my child as he is – this also eased my own tension and had a noticeable positive effect on our entire family system. My son was also able to sense this inner peace – children are incredibly receptive to our feelings.
I learned to consciously allow feelings of powerlessness, anger and despair, not to suppress them, but also not to let them overwhelm me. I deliberately created moments to take a deep breath and calm my nervous system – meditation and breathwork helped me to perceive my own feelings without them dominating my actions.
It was equally important to consciously feel the bond with my son, to perceive his behaviour and respond to him without controlling everything for him. This allowed me to recognise from a meta-level what was actually possible on a stressful day – instead of reacting reflexively with counter-pressure, strictness or withdrawal, which would often only have exacerbated the situation. This conscious observation and my reflective actions led to small changes that brought more and more relaxation into our private life and ultimately into everyday school life as well. Today, my son attends secondary school. It is still not easy. It is not „resolved.“ But it is possible. I have learned that chess is not always about knowing the right move immediately. Sometimes it’s about being able to breathe again – allowing yourself a moment’s pause before the next move comes. „Unteachable“ says nothing about my child. But it says a lot about how little space our system leaves for children who feel loudly, think quickly or react differently. And how urgently this needs to change.
I have collected our entire story – and the strategies and tools I have developed during this time – in my book BESONDERS (SPECIAL). For parents who are currently facing a wall and cannot yet see a way forward.
For more information about Nina: www.ninahrkalovic.com or order the book HERE
