Sad Songs Say So Much

The six year old bounced in front of me on the balls of his feet while loudly exclaiming "French fries are my fa-a-avorites," over and over. Behind him an older woman stepped up, waved hello to me silently and tapped him on the head. She grunted a little to be sure he knew she was there before squeezing past him to her table with her big mac and fries.

"Why did she do that?" he asked.

"She wanted to be sure you saw her and didn't run into her."

"But why did she make that noise and touch me?"

"Well," I said, "she is deaf, which means she can't hear and communicates with sign language. She tapped you to make sure you knew she was there so you didn't bounce into her."

"Oh."

He was quiet as he meticulously chewed each chicken nugget, his little Asperger's brain working through this new experience, fitting it into his world.

Half an hour later I was buckling his seatbelt when he said, "I'm really smart with science."

"Yes you are," I said.

"I bet when I grow up I can find a way to make it so she can hear again. She should be able to hear the world."

~*~

I was sitting on the floor of my client's bedroom with case notes spread out around me. Five years old, blind and diagnosed with Autism, he was in the other room listening to his mp3 player. Caught up in my paperwork, I didn't realize he was in the doorway until he let out a small, "Katrina?" 

I looked up at him and saw tears rolling down his cheeks.

"What's the matter honey?" I abandoned all professional boundaries and pulled him into my lap in a hug, wiping away his tears. I strongly believe professional boundaries go out the window when a small child cries.

"It's really said," he said between sobs. "The people in the song. They have problems in their love."

I took his mp3 player from his small, chubby fist and turned it toward me. He was listening to Sheryl Crow. 

~*~

When you read an article claiming that the Connecticut shooter had Aspergers please do not believe that this diagnosis made him a killer. Aspergers and Autism do not mean a person has no empathy. In fact, I strongly believe it is the exact opposite. I believe they have so much empathy that it is overwhelming and they don't know how to express it. Or they shut it down, stifle it, in order to function in the world the way we expect them to.

Purpose and Goodbyes

For two years I have spent 3 afternoons a week with one amazing child. He was five when we met. He is blind, has autism, loves Tom Petty and is going to change the world.

Today is my last day working with him. I am going to disconnect from all social networking and my cell phone for the next few hours so he can have my undivided attention as we take our last trip together.

Today is his last day as my client, but tomorrow will be the first day I can officially call him my friend.

I believe I may have posted this once before, but this is a sestina I wrote about him.

He places his warm little hand
around your wrist. He rolls his eyes
and closes them. They serve little purpose
and so he closes them. He places
your hand in his. He wraps his small
fingers around yours. For this moment you

are his security. For today you
protect him. With his soft, child’s hand
he puts his faith in you. His small
body is yours to protect. His eyes
are unable to guide him in this place.
He trusts your eyes instead. Your sole purpose

is to keep him safe. You purposefully
squeeze his hand, assuring him you
have him. You can protect him in this place,
this world of obstacles. His other hand
reaches ahead of him for what his eyes
do not see. As you walk his small

mouth moves constantly. Questions. His small
world expanding with each answer. Perhaps his purpose
in this small body with its faulty eyes
was to force you to see. To open your eyes. You
have changed since this boys’ hand
first held yours. You meant to find his place

in society. Instead he showed you a new place.
He changed you. This precious boy, this small
child reached out and took your hand.
He changed your life. He gave you purpose.
And you will never be the same. You
have seen the world through his eyes.

The eyes that have failed him since birth, the eyes
that frustrate him, have somehow placed
a welcome burden on you. You
smile at this boy, a tear and a small
smile he can’t see. You know his purpose –
that he is changing the world – with his hands

and his eyes, he is changing everything,
and your place is here, your purpose is to take his small
hand and let him guide you through the world.

Life in a Day - experience everything

I just finished watching "Life in a Day" and I am blown away. Blown away by the feelings... The emotions. The celebration of life and diversity. Of beauty and tragedy.

I got thinking afterward about the reasons we - the collective we of all life - can create these things. The beauty of this world. Of this life. The similar and opposite ways we each move through our day, from when we first open our eyes, to the moment we close them again.

I spent an hour yesterday with my hands over the hands of a blind 7 year old boy showing him where all the countries in the world are. He can't see a map, and we didn't have a globe so we improvised. We used a beach ball and ran off of my memory (thank you Mrs. Carver from my high school) and I showed him each continent and where he is and where all the people he knows live. Then we used a puzzle map to look at the shape of each US state and Canadian province.

He wanted to know where the earth is compared to other planets.

We pretended he was the sun, the beach ball was the earth and my hands represented all the other planets.

The world felt simultaneously huge and small... Powerful and fragile. And he asked why we don't live on Mars yet.

Moments like that are the moments we should focus on. That is the beauty of life. That is what my recent struggles have prevented me from experiencing and enjoying.

Life is for the living.

Things a Blind Child Wants You to Know

I'm working on a powerpoint presentation for work about what blind children do and don't need. The misconceptions are HUGE. Everytime I see someone look with pity at my client, or raise their voice to babytalk level and tell him he's doing a "good job" I cringe. (What is he doing a good job of? He's walking across the playground. Are you complimenting the other children on their amazing talents of putting one foot ahead of the other?)

These are the biggies:

-I've known many blind people. Not one has asked to feel my face to see what I look like.
-Don't clear the path, they aren't going to trip over everything. That's why they walk with mobility canes. In fact, I walk into way more furniture than they do. And blind children can play on school equipment just like any other child, in fact oftentimes they can do it better. They are more cautious than most children and their movement is more definitive. I've never seen a blind child fall off of a jungle gym, but I have seen a sighted child break their arm falling off of a swing.
-Don't babytalk! Don't infantalize! That only alienates the child. Being blind (or deaf, for that matter) doesn't make someone dumb. In fact, most of the blind people I know happen to have genius IQ's. The last thing they need is for you to dumb it down for them. Let them open their mouths and you'll be the one feeling like a child, trust me.
-Don't help unless they ask. They may not have all five senses, but that doesn't mean someone who is visually impaired isn't capable.
-Don't assume they have no eyesight. Very few people are actually 100% blind. Most people who are legally blind can see shapes, shadows, maybe even colors. They may spot you trying to sneak up on them or see the glow of your cell phone when you get a text message. Again, trust me.

My list is growing as I create this powerpoint... but some of these have been really bugging me lately so I wanted to vent.

Writer's Block

What's to say? Everyone hates writer's block, right?
I've begun four or five blog entries this week. Every single one has been thrown out.
I began writing about Maine's "Governor Flintstone", but I just didn't know where to begin.
I want to write about the fact that for some reason people treat blind children as though they are also deaf, but that's all there is to it. News flash, he can still hear you!
This is National Poetry Month and Autism Awareness Month, both worthy of blog entries. I haven't been able to get more than a few lines into a poem recently, and I haven't got much to say about Autism that I haven't said before.
Today I am snowed it. I want to write but it's just not coming. So this is me writing about having nothing to write about.

Storytelling

I remember when a group of storytellers came to my elementary school. I remember sitting on the bleachers, a tiny kindergartener, captivated. One of the stories required someone to jump behind a curtain and switch from a pig mask to a wolf mask and back again and I laughed hysterically everytime. It is likely that was my first introduction to theater, in a sense.

I've taken to creating elaborate stories about the children I work with and the children I spend time with. It's a tip I learned from a coworker for bringing a kid down from the elevation cycle when they are upset. It works really well. For instance:

One day Katrina was walking down the street carrying a remote control (I usually let the child fill in details like what someone is carrying and such). She heard a little voice saying "hello? hello? little girl?" She looked down and spotted a frog. The frog smiled, tipped his hat at her and said, "would you mind using that remote control to transform me into a prince?" Katrina laughed and said, "How would my remote control that runs my tv turn you into a prince?" He said, "Just try that button there." Katrina laughed.

And then she tried it.

Seconds later a handsome prince stood in front of her. He said, "Much obliged," and ran off toward town to find the princess he loved. Katrina said, "What else can I do with this remote?" As she kept walking she found a shoe. It was untied. She pressed a button on the remote and the shoe tied itself. After transforming a piece of trash into a flower, a book into a cd and a nasty dog into a cute little pomeranian she went home, holding tightly to her new treasure. Her mother placed her dinner plate in front of her. Asparagus. Ew! Katrina snuck the remote out from under the table and the asparagus transformed into...

Brussells sprouts.

And Katrina realized there are some things you just can't change.

She tenatively bit a brussells sprout... not so bad!

You Can Do Anything

Yesterday I was pushing a 6-year old on a playground swing. I said, "How high do you want to go?"

"All the way to the sky! And then I want to kick a cloud and make it rain!"

He said this with such conviction, such excitement, that I couldn't help but smile and tell him how awesome he is. This particular child is legally blind. He doesn't actually know how far away the clouds are, he only knows that someone told him they are up there raining down on him. And for a few minutes he honestly believed he could reach the sky if he pumped his swing hard enough.

This, for me, was a brilliant lesson in believing in yourself. According to the American Foundation For The Blind somewhere around 60% of blind and visually impaired people remain unemployed. At 6 years old this little boy has no idea that many people don't expect him to ever be able to work. He is absolutely brilliant. At the age of 6 he can add and subtract numbers in his head faster than I can. I have many children in my life who I firmly believe will change the world. I believe he can do anything. I believe he can figure out how to make it rain...

Because when I woke up today it was pouring.