3: Degrees Don’t Equal Experience: A Parent’s Perspective

Part Three: The Power Imbalance in the Room

There’s a particular kind of silence that fills the room when you’re a parent sitting across from professionals. It’s not just quiet — it’s heavy. Like you’ve walked into a place where your voice is already smaller before you’ve even opened your mouth.

Case conferences. Core group meetings. Reviews. Call them what you want — they all have the same setup. You, alone, or maybe with one advocate if you’re lucky. Them, in a line: the social worker, the team manager, the IRO, sometimes the school, sometimes health, always someone taking notes. All of them facing you.

There’s no hiding the power imbalance. It’s everywhere — in the language, the structure, the tone. They use terms you don’t understand, reference policies you’ve never seen, and speak about your life like it’s a file, not a reality. And often, they do it without looking you in the eye.

You’re there, not just as a parent, but as someone on trial — only no one says it out loud. They talk about you like you’re a problem to solve, not a person to hear. And when you try to speak, you wonder if they’re actually listening — or just waiting for you to finish so they can move on to the next bullet point.

This isn’t what support should look like. It feels more like scrutiny than help. More like a test you didn’t know you were taking, with answers judged by people who’ve never sat your version of the exam.

And yet, these rooms hold so much power. Decisions are made there that shape families, affect futures, and change lives. But how can any of those decisions be fair when the people most affected feel the smallest?

There’s no balance when one side holds the clipboard and the other holds the pain.