Why should I address that question? If it ever happens to me, God forbid, I will formulate an answer at that time. I will say this: If you really are unqualified to educate your child, and many people are, then by all means send them to school.
I will recount the following story for your benefit, however: Long before I was born, my grandparents had a nephew...my father's cousin...named Bill. Bill had Down syndrome and was profoundly retarded, with his mental ability frozen at the rough equivalent of the average four-year-old.
This was in the 1950s, and Bill lived in what was charitably called an "institution," a place where the retarded and disabled were warehoused in a sort of managed bedlam. My grandmother used to take my father and his four siblings on visits to see Bill, a boy whose mother had decided she was unqualified to raise him. On one of those visits, when Bill was 10, my granparents decided to pursue adopting Bill and to bring him home to their small, already-crowded home.
Arrangements were made with my great-aunt, Bill's mother, and my grandmother took over his education. The professionals of that day informed my grandmother that Bill was ineducable, and would never learn to speak; yet through my grandmother's persistence, he did so. One had to listen closely to decipher Bill's muddy pronunciation, but speak he did. The same was true of all the basic tasks of living; Bill had to be taught them all, from how to properly use a toilet to how to dress himself, brush his teeth, and use silverware. Eventually he had to learn to shave, and did. In his 30s, Bill's fast-deteriorating teeth were all pulled. My grandmother was told that Bill would never learn to manage dentures; but by then, being told "no" was de rigeur for my grandmother, and Bill handled his false teeth like a champ. All this education happened in the milieu of a hardscrabble mountain farm owned by a family that could only charitably rate the term "poor."
Bill died just a few years ago at age 58, having outlived the usual lifespan of a Down syndrome patient by a fair margin. In his middle years he developed a curious combination of toddler intelligence and emotional maturity; while Bill was never very smart, he had the bearing of a mature man. He had become competent within his surroundings, and although he always required supervision he was a useful member of his society and had a great many friends.
I believe that Bill lived life as fully as he did because my grandmother believed in her own capacity to teach, and Bill's capacity to learn, and because she didn't understand (let alone respect) the word "quit."
I don't have my grandmother's dogged determination, and I wouldn't expect you to either unless you were an extraordinary person. Consequently, I cannot stand in judgment of what you do with your daughter. However, do not assume that you aren't capable of teaching her. Teaching, even special education, is a learned skill, and you can acquire it if you wish.
That's a great comment, and quite true, too.
I have watched my wife overcome some rather large obstacles in teaching our boys, both of which were adopted with mental, emotional and physical issues.
Maybe you're right, luckystarmom, but don't sell yourself short. There may be support in a co-op or something similar...
Wow, what a great story. I reiterate your assertion: a learned skill ... can [be] acquire[d] ... if you wish.
This is something that has always bugged me: why do people assume that you need a certificate for every little event in life. While you might certainly want a surgeon to have a certificate, you know that certificate has a practical component to it. Alternatively, a teaching, or psychology, or chemical engineer, or whatever, only stands for the classroom part of the training.
We used to train lots of professions by the apprentice and internship routes, but now you have to go sit in a classroom even for the mundane skill of hair cutting.
We live in an overprofessionalized society.
Unfortunately, my daughter's issue have to do with muscle coordination.
The professionals that deal with her have masters degrees.
I have never been able to show her how to get her to say her sounds. They have wonderful tricks to get kids to say their sounds. After 6 years of therapy for her, I know a few things, but nothing like they know.
I tried to teach my daughter how to jump rope. It never happened. After a few sessions at occupational therapy, the therapist had my daughter jumping rope.
I tried to teach my daughter how to write, and I couldn't do it. Writing took lots of work, but after a few years she has wonderful handwriting. The occupational therapist tried special paper, slanted work surfaces, special devices to add to her pencil, and all sorts of other tools to help her write.
I thank God for all of those professionals because they have given her a voice, and they have taught her to read and write.