Writing the IEP Email You’ve Been Dreading

There is a particular kind of preparation that happens before an IEP meeting.

You know the meeting is coming.

You know there are things you want to discuss.

You may even spend days thinking:

I need to remember to ask about that.

We need to talk about this goal.

I want to know why we’re still working on that.

I need to ask what they’re seeing in class.

Then the meeting begins.

There are introductions.

Documents.

Progress reports.

Percentages.

Goals from last year.

Goals for this year.

Several people around a table—or several little boxes on a screen.

And somehow, in the middle of all of it, you’re supposed to remember everything you wanted to say about your child.

I’ve been that parent.

I’ve also been the parent who left a meeting and remembered the question I really wanted to ask on the way home.

That’s one reason I’ve learned not to think of advocacy as something that happens only during the IEP meeting.

Sometimes advocacy begins with the email you send before it.

And sometimes it continues with the email you send afterward.

You are allowed to come prepared

For a while, I think I approached these meetings believing the professionals would tell me what my son needed.

They work with students every day.

They see him in the classroom.

They understand the curriculum.

They know the terminology and the processes that I had to learn.

And their observations are important.

I still want that feedback.

I want to know:

What are you seeing?

Where is he progressing?

Where is he struggling?

What are you working toward this year?

But I’ve learned something else too.

I don’t have to walk into the meeting simply waiting to hear what everyone else has decided the goals should be.

I can bring goals to the table too.

Support needs and ability are not the same thing

This became especially important with my son.

He can need support and still be intelligent.

He can need prompting in one area and need to be challenged in another.

He can require accommodations and still be capable of doing work beyond what someone initially expects of him.

Those things can exist at the same time.

There have been moments when I looked at proposed educational goals and thought:

That’s not enough.

Not because I expected perfection.

Not because I wanted to make school unnecessarily difficult.

Because I knew what my child could do.

Sometimes a classroom includes students with a wide range of learning needs, abilities and pacing. Teachers are managing all of those needs at once.

But I don’t want the level at which the classroom happens to be operating to automatically become the ceiling for my son’s education.

If he has mastered something, I want to know:

What’s next?

If he can handle more challenging material:

How are we extending it?

If the goal is something he’s already capable of doing:

Why is this still the goal?

That is advocacy too.

Support needs and ability are not the same thing.

An IEP shouldn’t only ask, “Where does my child struggle?”

Of course we need to identify areas where support is necessary.

That’s part of the purpose.

But I also want the team asking:

Where is he strong?

What interests him?

Where is he demonstrating ability beyond what we’re currently asking of him?

What can we build from those strengths?

Where can expectations appropriately increase?

What does meaningful progress look like for this particular student?

A good educational plan shouldn’t simply help a child participate in school.

Whenever appropriate for that child, it should help them grow.

That’s a different question.

And it’s one parents shouldn’t be afraid to ask.

Sometimes the goals will feel underwhelming

This can be uncomfortable to say.

A teacher or specialist may present a goal they’ve developed thoughtfully and you may still believe it doesn’t go far enough.

You don’t have to attack the goal.

You can get curious about it.

Try:

“Can you walk me through how you determined this goal?”

Then:

• “What is he currently able to do independently?”
• “How will this goal move him beyond his current level?”
• “What happens if he masters it early?”
• “Can we increase the expectation?”
• “Is there an opportunity for more advanced work in this area?”

Those questions change the conversation.

You’re no longer simply saying:

I don’t like this goal.

You’re asking the team to show you the relationship between your child’s present ability and expected growth.

The teacher’s perspective matters—and so does yours

I don’t see advocacy as parent versus teacher.

Teachers may see things I don’t see at home.

I may see things that don’t happen at school.

A speech-language pathologist may notice something neither of us noticed.

A paraprofessional may know what happens during a part of the school day that the rest of the team rarely sees.

That information matters.

But there’s another person at the table with years of information about the child.

The parent.

I know the skills we’ve practiced at home.

I know what happens when he’s interested in something.

I know when he’s capable of more than he’s showing.

I know which skills required enormous effort.

I know the things he’s beginning to do that may not have made their way into a progress report yet.

The best plan should benefit from all of those perspectives.

Write things down before the meeting

This sounds simple.

Do it anyway.

A few days before the meeting, create four headings:

1. 01What I’m proud ofWhat progress have you noticed?What is your child doing now that they weren’t doing before?
2. 02What concerns meWhere are you still seeing difficulty?What is affecting school, communication, independence or everyday life?
3. 03What I want to understandWhat information do you need from the teachers and specialists?
4. 04What I want us to work towardNot just this month.Think about the child you’re helping prepare for the next grade, the next environment and eventually greater independence.

You don’t need educational terminology.

Write it in your own language.

The team can help translate an appropriate objective into measurable goals.

Your job is to make sure the destination isn’t forgotten while everyone is discussing the measurements.

When you need to send the email

Sometimes you’ll realize something before the meeting.

Sometimes you’ll leave the meeting and realize something important wasn’t resolved.

Sometimes you’ll receive a document and think:

This doesn’t reflect what we discussed.

That’s when an email can help.

I like to think of it in four parts:

That’s enough.

You don’t need to write a five-page argument every time you have a concern.

Clear is powerful.

Keep the record

After meetings, keep the documents.

Save important emails.

Keep your notes.

If something important was agreed upon verbally, consider following up politely in writing.

Not because you need to approach every interaction expecting conflict.

Because there are many people, many meetings and many details involved in supporting a child over years of education.

Memory isn’t a reliable filing system.

Documentation helps everyone remember what was discussed.

Don’t let “supported” quietly become “not challenged”

This is something I wish more families were encouraged to think about.

We spend a lot of time discussing what children with disabilities need help doing.

We should.

But we also need to pay attention to what happens when they are capable of more.

Accommodations should provide access.

Support should help a student participate and progress.

Neither should automatically mean lowering expectations.

Every child’s educational needs are individual. Greater challenge will look different from student to student.

But if you know your child is capable of more, it is reasonable to bring that observation to the team.

Ask for the data.

Ask what they’re seeing.

Listen to the educators.

And make sure they hear you too.

Before you leave the meeting, ask one more question

When everyone has discussed the goals, services and supports, I would ask:

“If everything in this plan works as intended, what should my child be able to do a year from now that they cannot do today?”

Then listen.

Because sometimes hearing the destination in ordinary language tells you much more than reading a page filled with percentages and benchmarks.

And if the answer doesn’t sound like meaningful growth for your child?

Keep talking.

Advocacy isn’t about being the difficult parent

You can be collaborative and still disagree.

You can appreciate a teacher and still ask for a stronger goal.

You can respect professional expertise and still bring your own knowledge of your child into the room.

You can say:

“I think he’s capable of more.”

And ask the team to explore what that could look like.

I’ve learned that my responsibility isn’t to make every meeting comfortable.

It is to help make sure my child’s education reflects both the support he needs and the potential he has.

Sometimes that means asking another question.

Sometimes it means requesting clarification.

Sometimes it means going home, thinking about what was discussed and writing the email you were nervous to send.

Send it.

Respectfully.

Clearly.

With the goal where it belongs:

Not simply getting your child through this school year—but helping them continue to grow.