straight A student; and Harry, the once and future Jedi, was a total and complete pain in my ass.
For all of Harry’s accomplishments at his young age, he had a smart mouth, was a bully, a practiced liar, and one of the sneakiest, most contemptible children I had ever encountered. And when I tried to discuss his behavior with Richard, Richard became more imperious than ever. If Harry took one of Eric’s toys, Richard would say, Oh, please. Eric has plenty. Why shouldn’t he share with his brother? If Harry picked on Eric to the point that Eric lost his temper, Richard would reprimand Eric, not Harry. On and on. It didn’t take long for Harry’s visits to become a contest with Eric for their father’s love and attention.
The last thing I wanted was for Richard to think there was a bona fide reason to hold Harry in higher regard. So I never told Richard anything. By the time I was finally called in for discussion of the evaluation results, I was doing yoga twice a day and still pretty well lathered in fear and loathing.
The meeting was to take place in the office of the school psychologist. I knew as soon as I swung into the office of Dr. Judith Moore that something was wrong.
“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Levine,” she said, rising and extending her hand. “Would you like some coffee?”
Admittedly, she was congenial, but too officious for my blood.
“Sure, just black,” I said and shook her hand.
“Please sit here and I’ll be back in just a minute.”
She indicated that I should wait in the wooden chair in front of P l a n t a t i o n
7 9
her desk. Her small office looked like something from central casting. Old oak desk piled high with folders, beige metal filing cabinets, children’s artwork covering a bulletin board, and bookshelves crammed with volumes on everything from ADD and obsessive-compulsive disorder to childhood depression and teenage suicide. I wondered if the other chair would soon be filled by the demoness—
Eric’s teacher. She was probably too humiliated to show up. Wrong again. She came through the door with Dr. Moore, chipper as could be. I stood to greet her—after all, may as well be civilized, I thought.
“Good morning, Ms. Daniels.”
“Mrs. Levine,” she said, nodding her head and sitting in the chair opposite me.
“Well, now,” Dr. Moore said, handing me a foam cup of coffee. “We’re all here. Good.” She went around her desk, took her seat, put her reading glasses on, and opened a manila folder. She looked up at me and sighed. “Mrs. Levine, before we go over the results of Eric’s testing, I want to give you some information on how the results and findings were achieved.”
“Fine,” I said, “I’d appreciate that very much.”
“Eric was given a series of tests, which are standard in education, to measure different areas of his general knowledge—mathematics, science, language, reading comprehension, and so on. In the afternoon, he was also given two different psychological evaluations and his behavior was observed and noted.” She paused.
“And?” I said, “What did you find?”
“Some very interesting things. Eric is a very bright little boy.”
“Thank you,” I said, “and a sweetheart too.”
“He is a dear little boy,” Ms. Daniels said, immediately making me suspicious.
Dr. Moore began again. “He shows particular strength in vocabulary.” She handed me a copy of the test to review. “If you’ll look at the bottom of page three, his vocabulary is on a sixth-grade level.”
The room was silent as I looked at the pages, not exactly sure of how to interpret what I was reading. She spoke again.
8 0
D o r o t h e a B e n t o n F r a n k
“What concerns us is this. Eric, while he is as bright as he can be, has clear audio processing issues and an obvious fine-motor issue, in that he seldom does an adequate job of transferring data to paper.”
“I see,” I said.
Dr. Moore looked to Ms. Daniels, who now got into the
For all of Harry’s accomplishments at his young age, he had a smart mouth, was a bully, a practiced liar, and one of the sneakiest, most contemptible children I had ever encountered. And when I tried to discuss his behavior with Richard, Richard became more imperious than ever. If Harry took one of Eric’s toys, Richard would say, Oh, please. Eric has plenty. Why shouldn’t he share with his brother? If Harry picked on Eric to the point that Eric lost his temper, Richard would reprimand Eric, not Harry. On and on. It didn’t take long for Harry’s visits to become a contest with Eric for their father’s love and attention.
The last thing I wanted was for Richard to think there was a bona fide reason to hold Harry in higher regard. So I never told Richard anything. By the time I was finally called in for discussion of the evaluation results, I was doing yoga twice a day and still pretty well lathered in fear and loathing.
The meeting was to take place in the office of the school psychologist. I knew as soon as I swung into the office of Dr. Judith Moore that something was wrong.
“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Levine,” she said, rising and extending her hand. “Would you like some coffee?”
Admittedly, she was congenial, but too officious for my blood.
“Sure, just black,” I said and shook her hand.
“Please sit here and I’ll be back in just a minute.”
She indicated that I should wait in the wooden chair in front of P l a n t a t i o n
7 9
her desk. Her small office looked like something from central casting. Old oak desk piled high with folders, beige metal filing cabinets, children’s artwork covering a bulletin board, and bookshelves crammed with volumes on everything from ADD and obsessive-compulsive disorder to childhood depression and teenage suicide. I wondered if the other chair would soon be filled by the demoness—
Eric’s teacher. She was probably too humiliated to show up. Wrong again. She came through the door with Dr. Moore, chipper as could be. I stood to greet her—after all, may as well be civilized, I thought.
“Good morning, Ms. Daniels.”
“Mrs. Levine,” she said, nodding her head and sitting in the chair opposite me.
“Well, now,” Dr. Moore said, handing me a foam cup of coffee. “We’re all here. Good.” She went around her desk, took her seat, put her reading glasses on, and opened a manila folder. She looked up at me and sighed. “Mrs. Levine, before we go over the results of Eric’s testing, I want to give you some information on how the results and findings were achieved.”
“Fine,” I said, “I’d appreciate that very much.”
“Eric was given a series of tests, which are standard in education, to measure different areas of his general knowledge—mathematics, science, language, reading comprehension, and so on. In the afternoon, he was also given two different psychological evaluations and his behavior was observed and noted.” She paused.
“And?” I said, “What did you find?”
“Some very interesting things. Eric is a very bright little boy.”
“Thank you,” I said, “and a sweetheart too.”
“He is a dear little boy,” Ms. Daniels said, immediately making me suspicious.
Dr. Moore began again. “He shows particular strength in vocabulary.” She handed me a copy of the test to review. “If you’ll look at the bottom of page three, his vocabulary is on a sixth-grade level.”
The room was silent as I looked at the pages, not exactly sure of how to interpret what I was reading. She spoke again.
8 0
D o r o t h e a B e n t o n F r a n k
“What concerns us is this. Eric, while he is as bright as he can be, has clear audio processing issues and an obvious fine-motor issue, in that he seldom does an adequate job of transferring data to paper.”
“I see,” I said.
Dr. Moore looked to Ms. Daniels, who now got into the
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