Fall 2012, new CCC-SLP me was working in the Williamsburg James City County school system and was assigned between two buildings. One of them was a private school. Grand brick buildings with marble floors in the entry. A library with every new book you could want. The best of everything.
I felt like I had landed in paradise. That is, until it came to scheduling Speech-only IEP meetings.
The Cycle I Could Not Break
Email responses from parents asking to schedule annual review meetings almost always included a request for an end-of-day start time. Totally understandable. These families wanted the efficiency of a single trip to campus: do the meeting, pick up the child, go home. I respected that completely.
The problem was the math. Even in the best case scenario, with no long-winded teacher input and no changes needed to the IEP document, each meeting ran about 45 minutes. End-of-day meetings usually started at 2:30. My daughter's school dismissed at 3:15.
You see it. You feel it.
No matter what I did, right around the 35-minute mark anxiety would start building in my stomach. I would be thinking about my 7-year-old at pickup, wondering if she was one of the last kids standing there, worried, maybe crying. That kind of spiraling thought does two things: it makes you less effective at your job and it starts breeding resentment toward your job. Neither of those outcomes is good for anyone, including the families counting on your full presence in that meeting.
For six months I stayed in that cycle. Six months of scheduling meetings, feeling my stomach tighten at 35 minutes, apologizing internally to my daughter, and saying nothing to anyone.
The Moment I Decided Something Had to Change
By spring of 2013, I had enough data, enough experience, and enough frustration to make a decision. Saying no did not mean saying no to the families. They still needed their meetings. It meant finding a way to take some control over when those meetings happened.
I wrote an email to the lead SLP and then made a follow-up call to the SPED Director. I will not pretend my armpits were dry during either of those conversations. I was new. These were the people I reported to. The power differential was very real.
I explained the situation clearly. I noted that every meeting to date had been run well and without any procedural issues. I then made a direct request: I asked for a peer SLP to assist with any meeting later than 2:00 p.m. and for permission to offer scheduling times that worked within my constraints.
That is it. I stated the problem. I offered the context. I made a specific ask.
What Actually Happened
It worked out. Start-of-day meetings, after morning drop-off, are just as effective as end-of-day ones. The families got their meetings. My daughter got her mom at pickup on time. I got to be fully present in both roles instead of half-present in each.
That sounds simple. And it was, once I actually asked. But the asking took six months of unnecessary anxiety because I was waiting for someone to notice the problem and fix it for me, which is not how workplaces operate. Nobody was going to hand me relief. I had to ask for it.
What I Want You to Take From This
A no at work, followed by a clear reason and a proposed alternative, has more value than a yes that quietly breeds resentment. Highlight that for yourself if it resonates.
Limits are not the same as failing your clients. They are not the same as being a difficult employee. They are confident, professional communication. Your employer actually needs to see you convey that confidence. It signals that you know your worth and that you are invested in doing the work well and sustainably.
You are allowed to need things at work. You are allowed to ask for them. And you are allowed to stop waiting for someone else to notice.
Here is to reason and rationale in your next “no.”
