This is a portrait of a child moving from grade to grade without learning. There are thousands more like him, slipping into indifference and insecurity while schools rubber stamp their progress.

When her son talks, Linda listens. But she knows behaviour – and a mother's intuition – often speak louder than words.

Linda has listened for years while Josh, 13, claimed he didn't need extra help in school.

She has listened to teachers shrug off her concerns that he still counts on his fingers and wrestles with writing a book report. After all, his grades are mostly Bs and Cs. He's a well-behaved kid, they tell her, an average student.

But Linda has been watching and worrying since Josh was in Grade 5, as he struggled with homework night after night in their GTA apartment.

It was around then she realized her son couldn't remember passages he read. "He does much better if you read it aloud to him," she explains.

Josh brought home decimal problems he had no idea how to solve. He couldn't recall instructions for written assignments. His mother had to lead him by the hand to get his projects started. Soon, his report cards noted he wasn't participating in class.

His confidence began to slip. He got easily frustrated and gave up quickly, even while playing hockey. He woke up at night, sometimes ended up sleeping on the floor of his parents' bedroom.

Linda knew something wasn't right.

"When it's your child, you just can't ignore it," she says. "You have to do something."

EVERY DAY, in classrooms across the province, children like Josh gnaw their pencils and puzzle over fractions and spelling lists. Every day, parents like Linda try to figure out if their child's uphill battles are just part of life's inevitable bumps or whether it's time to intervene.

Some children make it clear, even if the message isn't expressed in words. They may throw tantrums, have trouble falling asleep or not want to get out of bed in the morning. They may cry over homework or refer to themselves as stupid. They may disrupt the classroom or get into schoolyard fights.

Or they may quietly disengage without anyone even noticing.

There are myriad and complex reasons, ranging from learning disabilities to mental illnesses. Maybe they are being bullied or their parents are divorcing. They may be wired on too much technology, not enough exercise, lack of sleep. Maybe the teacher doesn't have time to cater to a range of learning styles.

The challenge for worried parents like Linda is twofold: in an overburdened system, finding out what exactly is wrong; then, armed with that knowledge, getting the child the appropriate help.

"There is a great gaping maw of understanding for parents," says Toronto District School Board trustee Cathy Dandy, who runs an annual workshop for parents seeking help for struggling children.

"The system itself, because of the lack of resources, has become ever more closed. And, let's face it, it's time-consuming work to inform parents and empower them to ask questions."

Annie Kidder of People for Education says her grassroots advocacy organization fields more calls from parents about special education and how to get help than any other issue.

"It's because it's so complex, because it takes a lot of advocacy...and you have to have some understanding of how the system works."

Almost 30 years ago, Bill 82 was passed, giving Ontario students with "exceptionalities" – those who learn differently from the majority, whether they have learning disabilities or are gifted – the right to receive special education programs and services in the public school system.

Today, almost 15 per cent of Ontario's 2.1 million public school students receive those services. That translates to roughly four children in every class of 30.

The definition of "learning disability," according to the Learning Disabilities Association of Canada, is a neurological impairment to one or more processes that help a person think, perceive, remember or learn. It's estimated one in 10 Canadians has a learning disability.

There are many variations: disabilities may be related to the way people understand and remember what they hear and see; how they plan and make decisions; whether they can remember; whether they can pay attention.

In school, learning disabilities can mean it's harder for kids to read, express themselves, keep up in math.

According to Ministry of Education statistics from 2006/07, about 29 per cent of students in special ed had a learning disability, 9 per cent were gifted and 8 per cent had a mild intellectual disability. Other special needs include behavioural problems, autism, and developmental and physical disabilities. But one-third of students receiving the supports had not been formally "identified" or diagnosed with a condition affecting learning.

The number of students being pushed and pulled along is suggested by statistics revealed in a 2008 report by the Canadian Council on Learning, which found that one-third of Canadian parents have hired tutors to assist their kids.

In the meantime, as a Toronto District School Board survey showed last week, teachers are dealing with a complex student body that includes a range of cultures and languages. Poverty and its effects on learning are an increasing concern. There are higher incidences of attention and behavioural problems. Statistics show roughly one in five Ontario children and youth has a mental health problem and, often, these are concurrent with learning disabilities.

WHERE DOES JOSH fit in this spectrum?

He is in a boisterous class in a culturally diverse school. A quiet student amid a collection of squeaky wheels, he is at risk of slipping through the cracks.

For Linda, doing nothing is not an option. She has allowed us to use her son's story – all names have been changed to protect their privacy – because she hit a roadblock. She may not know the statistics, but she does understand the perils for kids who feel marginalized at school. Research from organizations like the learning disabilities association shows students with learning problems who become disillusioned are twice as likely to drop out and are at higher risk of substance abuse, mental health problems and poor employment prospects.

Linda has asked teachers to help. As a result, Josh received informal supports including weekly school-based tutoring and an after-school math club. But, still, his mother spends night after night in a Sisyphean challenge, re-explaining homework, encouraging Josh and trying to prevent him from sliding backward.

She was convinced long ago that it was time to take the next step – a formal psycho-educational assessment to try to determine the root of her son's difficulties. Is he one of those kids who needs more time to absorb material? Is he one of the many children drifting through school unengaged? Or does he have a learning problem?

The psycho-ed assessment is the tool that can provide some answers. The series of standard academic, cognitive and psychological tests measures intelligence and reasoning skills and diagnoses learning disabilities.

The assessments, administered by trained psychologists or psychological associates, can identify attention problems or mental health issues related to a child's learning such as anxiety or depression. A diagnosis requires that other conditions that may affect learning – developmental delays, hearing or vision impairments, the impact of a different cultural background or being taught in a second language – are ruled out.

Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading...

Students can get help beyond the classroom teacher, including a tailored learning plan, without a formal diagnosis, but assessments are the only way to qualify for many of the heavy-duty services that cost school boards extra money.

This focus on finding children's deficiencies in order to teach them more effectively concerns some educators.

"We have developed a huge network and system that accentuates the negatives more than the positives," says Toronto District School Board psychologist Tayyab Rashid.

He says teaching kids to understand the way they learn and build on their assets makes them resilient, self-confident and successful.

The downside of labelling is evident in Josh's attitude. He would rather flounder than admit he "doesn't get it" or needs extra help. Like most teens, he just wants to be a normal kid who fits into the way the school system expects him to learn and perform.

Linda knows this but there isn't much choice. She needs answers for her son, and time is running out. She will jump at the first opportunity for an assessment.

The good news for her is that assessments are available without a fee through Ontario school boards. The bad news is, unless a student's situation is considered urgent, he or she will have to wait.

The wait can be so long that advocates advise those who can afford it to pay for a private test, which costs an average of $2,000.

Linda is a mother of three sons and has a job working with children. Her husband is a physical labourer.

She is ready to fight like a pit bull for what her middle son needs. But there is no money for private tutors, special schools or a private psycho-ed assessment.

So Josh has waited. And waited. He was in Grade 5 when Linda first asked the school to put him on the wait list for a school board assessment. She inquired each year; but other students in worse situations jumped ahead in the queue. At the beginning of Grade 8, with high school approaching, Linda discovered he had fallen off the list, which is reviewed each year to prioritize critical cases.

The Ministry of Education does not keep statistics on assessments or wait times because they are administered separately by the province's 72 school boards. However, in its 2008 survey of public schools, the advocacy group People for Education reported 36,000 elementary school children and 4,800 high school students were waiting for assessments.

This is despite the widely accepted principle that early identification of learning disabilities or other problems that affect learning is critical to a child's long-term success.

Delays aren't the only problem. Judy Kerr, executive director of the learning disabilities association, says the assessment system is flawed because there are no set standards. The association wants universal screening of kids in primary grades to identify problems and start helping kids early, long before most elementary schools typically start doing full assessments in Grade 2 or 3.

John McNamara, of the Canadian Association of Educational Psychology, says the current "wait to fail" model is not sustainable. For many kids, the help comes too late to catch up, says McNamara, also a professor who specializes in learning disabilities at Brock University in St. Catharines.

The system is changing but it's happening slowly, he says. Progressive school boards are realizing that intensive intervention in the early years works better for children and will save money down the road.

"Science knows now that if you do it early, you're changing the way the brain works."

IT WAS TOO LATE for an early intervention for Josh, but he still needed an assessment and Linda was stymied by red tape. This is where the Star stepped in.

We were looking for an opportunity to observe the process and write about it but no major school board would allow us to be present. So, when we found Josh and heard his story, we offered to hire a psychologist with experience, credentials and recommendations to conduct a private assessment. Linda and the psychologist willingly participated to help shed light on the inner workings of such an important but little understood process.

The Star observed from start to finish and watched the actual testing through observation glass in a separate room. The day of testing and its aftermath are the subject of stories tomorrow in the Living section and Saturday in Weekend Living.

Map of a mind at work

Educational assessment: Portrait of a learner

Josh's struggles resonate with readers

