My autistic son was banned from the end of year school excursion

"For some kids, the trip says, well done. For others it says, you don’t fit in and you never will."

Whenever I drive down the motorway with my kids, we pass the most epic waterpark. 

Multi-coloured slides loop in the air, and the giant sign that reads “Raging Waters”. It looks like so much fun, and ever since we moved out of the city, my kids have been begging to go. 

One day in term two, my eldest, Henry*, came home with exciting news.

“Anyone who gets 90 percent attendance will go on a school trip to Raging Waters in term four!” 

My heart sunk.

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"Henry misses a lot of school"

I’d just picked him up in the middle of the day to go to a psychology appointment in Sydney – meaning that he was missing another day of school.

All his therapies – OT, speech, psychology and even his paediatrician – are based in Sydney, and he goes to help manage his ADHD and autism. 

Visiting a therapist means an hour of driving on either side of a 50-minute appointment, and that means Henry misses a lot of school.

“I’m not sure you’ll get 90 percent attendance this year,” I say to him, trying to manage his expectations - but he's crestfallen.

Henry often misses fun things at school. 

At his primary school his speech therapist appointment was in the middle of his favourite class – visual arts – because it was the only slot available. 

On Wednesdays I pick him up just before woodwork class to take him to OT.  

Recently, that OT suggested that we advocate to let him have a once-a-month mental health day to manage anxiety and stress.

The result of all those missed hours is less than 90 percent attendance... and therefore no Raging Waters.  

Image: supplied

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"I understand schools are big on attendance"

But for a while, Henry hoped he might still get to go. He’d talk about the excursion, and how he and his friends were already making plans. 

“I’m really excited to try that red slide,” he told me. “And Cal said he wants to do all the tunnels.”

Later in the year, though, he admitted: “I’m scared of the tunnel slides. And everything looks so high. I’m not sure I want to go anymore.”

He’s naturally pretty risk averse, but I think he was trying to manage his own expectations. 

I understand why schools are big on attendance. I know they say if a high schooler misses one day of school a fortnight, it’s the equivalent of a year missed over their school career. 

I also know the reward-punishment system is to deter truant kids. But it’s simplistic and it fails to ask the right questions. 

Why aren’t kids going to school? Are they being abused? Can their parents not afford uniform or lunch? Are they bullied? Are they neurodiverse and need days off? Do they have a lot of specialist appointments? 

Some kids are genuinely skiving off school, but kids miss school for all kinds of other reasons. 

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"Kids like Henry are often excluded"

In my son’s circle, the kids have tough home lives or they’re neurodiverse or anxious. 

Kids like this already don’t get to go to the special breakfast for getting good grades; they don’t get highlighted in the newsletter for state athletics championship wins; their smiling faces aren’t in the local paper because they starred in the school musical. 

For some kids, a trip to Raging Waters says, well done. For others it says, you don’t fit in and you never will. It might even exacerbate the problem of skipping school.

“I always miss out on the reward, so I might as well quit trying,” Henry said once.  

I suppose brushing things off is an important life skill, but it breaks my heart to see him managing his own disappointment by convincing himself he doesn’t care. 

*Names have been changed

Originally published as My autistic son was banned from the end of year school excursion