"Then the Lord formed man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living being." Genesis 2:7
Today was the fourth time I worked as a substitute teacher at Woods Edge Learning Center. This beautiful new facility is a regional center that tries to help educate and/or care during the day for autistic kids from preschool to age 26. There are usually about 1 teacher or paraprofessional for every 2 or 3 kids, depending on the abilities and behaviors of the kids. So far I have helped out with an 18-26 year old group, a preschool group, a 5-8 year old group and today a middle school age group.
The preschool kids I worked with had normal language skills and looked like the general population except for an inability to focus and some behavior problems, but the children in all of the other groups were quite severely limited in their ability to talk, conduct normal social behavior, and function without close supervision.
My first time there, not being familiar with Woods Edge and not knowing what AI meant in the teacher job description (Art Instruction?), I arrived dressed in nice clothes. I came the second time wearing jeans, just like all the other adults but with a nice sweater. After spending a day picking play doh out of a girls nose, ears and hair (I wasn't fast enough for the mouth) and dodging dripping paint sticks (one kid liked to suck on the paint stick) and being repeatedly hugged or touched by these kids, I switched to a sweatshirt.
I was glad I wore tennis shoes as well. Today I took Anna on a mile walk through the hallways. She would collect an icon at one end of the building, put it in her pocket, walk to the other end to collect and pocket another icon, until all the icons were exhausted, listening to music from earphones and humming the entire time. When we went out to recess she would walk along the fenced in border until it was time to go inside.
Anna really didn't exhibit any negative behavior toward me, the other adults or children (I noticed that there seems to be very little interaction between these kids). However (and excuse me here) I'm pretty sure I heard her say several times in a low sing song voice after not being allowed to use the computer because it overstimulates her, "unk oou, unk oou, unk oou.
Chasing Anna down the hallways gave me a chance to pray for the kids and staff at Woods Edge. I don't know what the cause for autism is, whether it is purely physical or if there is a spiritual component to it as well. As Anna hummed to herself I prayed softly in tongues, asked help to be sensitive to the leading of the Holy Spirit for me here and spoke to the Holy Spirit to fill the halls and classrooms of that place.
I thought as I walked today about how nice it would be if Jesus would one day come into that building, gather all those precious children around him, and speak with authority over any physical or spiritual conditions. And thinking about what the staff would do if the building was emptied of it's current group of children I knew that sadly there would soon be others to work with.
None of these children are worth less because of their physical or emotional makeup. Life is not just about the lucky combinations of genes. When God breathed into that dust, man became a living being. He brought the spiritual world into the physical world and man became a three part being; body, soul and spirit.
The body, even of the greatest hero, eventually ages and decays, but the soul/spirit are eternal. And so is the Father's love.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Arab Spring
One of the people on my schedule for a road test today was a woman named Safaa. The car pulls up, parks, and out steps Safaa and another woman. The other woman wore black, was about 4'6 tall and 3'6 wide and said with a big toothy grin and a very, very deep voice, "BOBB!"
"BOBB, HOW COME YOU NOT COME TO ME YET FOR A GOOD ARABIC LUNCH? " My brain kicks in and I remember that a few months ago she brought a woman for a road test and told me afterwards that "I UNDERSTAND YOU LIKE ARABIC FOOD. YOU MUST COME TO MY HOUSE FOR A WONDERFUL ARABIC LUNCH!"
My first thought is, yes I do remember the invitation. It was like the invitation from the Brazilian guy I gave a road test to who told me his family had a place on the beach at Rio and that I must go and stay there sometime. When the invitation does not come with an address its just a nice way to say thanks.
My second thought, which I AGAIN verbalized to her, is that the State of Michigan does not allow me to accept such nice offers as going to someone's house, somewhere in Grand Rapids, during a lunch period I usually don't get to have a meal with such nice people as herself.
For some reason, known only to God, the Arab people seem to love me and want to demonstrate their love by feeding me. So if I conduct a test for one, and pass or fail, when they come back with a spouse, father or mother, brother or sister, aunt or uncle, in-laws of all kinds, and friends or someone they just met on the street, they may also bring me a plate filled high and wide with about 5 pounds of something I've never seen before. I tell them that I cannot accept this but they ignore me, wink and say, "That's OK, take it." So to be polite I accept the plate.
Now if you know me you are aware that I am a very picky eater. If I were to actually eat at her house I would try to do my best, but not being at someone's house I wait until they leave and then dump the gift into the nearest garbage can. One time the food plate was presented after my last test of the day and because there were about 8 Arabic speaking people still milling around, smoking and laughing at the poor sod who just failed I drove the very strong smelling meal all the way home in mid winter with the window partially open, stopping at the garbage can prior to entering the house.
Anyway, back to today, the woman begins to bark out orders to Safaa in her very deep Arabic everything she must do, before I have a chance to tell her myself. Safaa speaks English very well so she does not need the help, and I try to create some distance between the woman and Safaa.
I look at Safaa who is now behind the wheel and immediately notice that she has this huge black mole on her left cheek. I began to worry that this might throw me off a little. It wouldn't look good to give the instruction for doing the parking portion by saying; "It will be a penalty every time your car crosses a yellow line or hits a mole, um, I mean pole."
Safaa passes the parking, the woman in black keeps barking out either orders or encouragement to her in Arabic until we have driven half way out of the parking lot, and because Safaa did not do so well on the driving portion of the test I will see her again sometime, because, "WE WANT YOU BOBB TO DO THE TEST."
"BOBB, HOW COME YOU NOT COME TO ME YET FOR A GOOD ARABIC LUNCH? " My brain kicks in and I remember that a few months ago she brought a woman for a road test and told me afterwards that "I UNDERSTAND YOU LIKE ARABIC FOOD. YOU MUST COME TO MY HOUSE FOR A WONDERFUL ARABIC LUNCH!"
My first thought is, yes I do remember the invitation. It was like the invitation from the Brazilian guy I gave a road test to who told me his family had a place on the beach at Rio and that I must go and stay there sometime. When the invitation does not come with an address its just a nice way to say thanks.
My second thought, which I AGAIN verbalized to her, is that the State of Michigan does not allow me to accept such nice offers as going to someone's house, somewhere in Grand Rapids, during a lunch period I usually don't get to have a meal with such nice people as herself.
For some reason, known only to God, the Arab people seem to love me and want to demonstrate their love by feeding me. So if I conduct a test for one, and pass or fail, when they come back with a spouse, father or mother, brother or sister, aunt or uncle, in-laws of all kinds, and friends or someone they just met on the street, they may also bring me a plate filled high and wide with about 5 pounds of something I've never seen before. I tell them that I cannot accept this but they ignore me, wink and say, "That's OK, take it." So to be polite I accept the plate.
Now if you know me you are aware that I am a very picky eater. If I were to actually eat at her house I would try to do my best, but not being at someone's house I wait until they leave and then dump the gift into the nearest garbage can. One time the food plate was presented after my last test of the day and because there were about 8 Arabic speaking people still milling around, smoking and laughing at the poor sod who just failed I drove the very strong smelling meal all the way home in mid winter with the window partially open, stopping at the garbage can prior to entering the house.
Anyway, back to today, the woman begins to bark out orders to Safaa in her very deep Arabic everything she must do, before I have a chance to tell her myself. Safaa speaks English very well so she does not need the help, and I try to create some distance between the woman and Safaa.
I look at Safaa who is now behind the wheel and immediately notice that she has this huge black mole on her left cheek. I began to worry that this might throw me off a little. It wouldn't look good to give the instruction for doing the parking portion by saying; "It will be a penalty every time your car crosses a yellow line or hits a mole, um, I mean pole."
Safaa passes the parking, the woman in black keeps barking out either orders or encouragement to her in Arabic until we have driven half way out of the parking lot, and because Safaa did not do so well on the driving portion of the test I will see her again sometime, because, "WE WANT YOU BOBB TO DO THE TEST."
Thursday, October 20, 2011
The Blind Leading The Blind
Math was my worst subject area in high school. I think I got a B- if that in 9th grade Algebra, but I can't remember, if I ever did know, any of the formulas for working out things like story problems.
10th grade Geometry with Mr. Swank was a disaster. I never applied myself to learning theroms? and quorums? and any other ums, and 4 to 6 weeks in I was totally lost. White haired 70 year old Mr. Swank had me go up to the board to work out a problem. I stood there ridged, pointing my nice white piece of chalk at an empty space.
"What part of the problem don't you understand?" he asked me after several very uncomfortable minutes (I could count seconds). "Well sir, I don't even know what I don't know here." I replied. He had me sit down, never to visit the board again. That was a one semester, very low grade class for me.
Many years later, this Wednesday night in fact, after checking my road test schedule for Thursday and finding an open day, I access the substitute teaching openings and find one available, in Special Ed Math! - Algebra, Pre-Algebra, Geometry. So being a brave soul, I take it.
I kinda think this is God's sense of humor. After 44 years I finally end up in the right math classes. Kids would ask me a question and I would say, "How do you think this should be done" or "Looks pretty good to me." There were warm up problems I was given to write on the board, and after watching a few of the brighter special ed students work out the answers on the board I would ask the class, "Does this look good to everyone?", and if they all agreed we would go onto the next problem.
I could relate to a conversation I overheard in the Pre-Algebra class today. 1st student: "I'm illiterate." 2nd student: "What?" 1st student repeats: "I'm illiterate." 2nd student repeats: "What?" 1st student: "I don't know anything."
10th grade Geometry with Mr. Swank was a disaster. I never applied myself to learning theroms? and quorums? and any other ums, and 4 to 6 weeks in I was totally lost. White haired 70 year old Mr. Swank had me go up to the board to work out a problem. I stood there ridged, pointing my nice white piece of chalk at an empty space.
"What part of the problem don't you understand?" he asked me after several very uncomfortable minutes (I could count seconds). "Well sir, I don't even know what I don't know here." I replied. He had me sit down, never to visit the board again. That was a one semester, very low grade class for me.
Many years later, this Wednesday night in fact, after checking my road test schedule for Thursday and finding an open day, I access the substitute teaching openings and find one available, in Special Ed Math! - Algebra, Pre-Algebra, Geometry. So being a brave soul, I take it.
I kinda think this is God's sense of humor. After 44 years I finally end up in the right math classes. Kids would ask me a question and I would say, "How do you think this should be done" or "Looks pretty good to me." There were warm up problems I was given to write on the board, and after watching a few of the brighter special ed students work out the answers on the board I would ask the class, "Does this look good to everyone?", and if they all agreed we would go onto the next problem.
I could relate to a conversation I overheard in the Pre-Algebra class today. 1st student: "I'm illiterate." 2nd student: "What?" 1st student repeats: "I'm illiterate." 2nd student repeats: "What?" 1st student: "I don't know anything."
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
WHY ME?
The other day I did a road test for a young lady whose name was Jazzlynn. Every time I would say something to her, or "ax" her a question, she would respond; "You done say what?"
For example, noticing that she was 23 I was curious as to why she picked this particular day to get tested to finally qualify for her driver's license. "So Jazzlynn, why are you taking your driver's test today?" "You done say what?" "Is there a particular reason you choose today for taking your test?" "I needs to do my business!"
And thinking about it, her philosophy became a pretty good reason for me to start up this blog. I too am often confused by what goes on around me but I NEEDS TO DO MY BUSINESS!
The idea of writing on Facebook makes me very uncomfortable. Several times a week I pull up Jackie's site to adore all the cute photos and see what is going on, and one day I thought that maybe if I had a blog I could post a link to it each time I had a new post. If someone wanted to take the time to check it out they could.
So here it is. Enjoy,
Bob
For example, noticing that she was 23 I was curious as to why she picked this particular day to get tested to finally qualify for her driver's license. "So Jazzlynn, why are you taking your driver's test today?" "You done say what?" "Is there a particular reason you choose today for taking your test?" "I needs to do my business!"
And thinking about it, her philosophy became a pretty good reason for me to start up this blog. I too am often confused by what goes on around me but I NEEDS TO DO MY BUSINESS!
The idea of writing on Facebook makes me very uncomfortable. Several times a week I pull up Jackie's site to adore all the cute photos and see what is going on, and one day I thought that maybe if I had a blog I could post a link to it each time I had a new post. If someone wanted to take the time to check it out they could.
So here it is. Enjoy,
Bob
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