William Leon, Leon William Last name, lost Mama said one time we took him to Las Vegas and there was this game where you had to say how many tickets were flying in the air. And we played it a couple times, and we asked Leon, (and I was ready to pack up everything and move to Vegas), How many tickets, Leon? How many tickets? And he watched them all flying in the air, in the enclosure, and after minutes of suspense, responded, “Three.”
This happened to him, and his mom told me the story, and I don’t judge her, or anyone who spends more time than they can handle with people with severe support needs (everyone burns out here and there), but this story haunts me a little bit. When I walk and talk and play and sing with William, Will. None of that is his real name.
She told me the story in front of him, as he rocked and flapped. People think if they can’t formulate a response to their behavior, no response or reaction exists. I think humans yes we are foolish to use WORDS as a primary resource. SOMETHING AND EVERYTHING happens before the words. Silence is a cage for life that can’t write and sign treaties, make formal requests, not to mention how they’re at the mercy of caregivers.
Last night I had my least favorite dream where I’m teaching a big class (3 classes combined) and my supervisor is doing a random formal observation, and I had nothing planned, but now I’m ducking my head searching shelves and drawers and my brain for normal “make it up” lessons, but she’s dogging me (my supervisor), and I tell her, “Sorry, what I had planned didn’t work out.” But I had nothing planned, and she knows it. She’s only there to record and prove that I’m an incompetent teacher. Five minutes, Fifteen minutes pass, and I’m still trying to print things with computers that won’t work, my partner in the room can’t save me, or doesn’t want to, and I’ll next get fired, (woke up to relieve my water, and sadly realize the cinema being self-created for August 4th sleepy time replay). Not restful, (and is it necessary!?)