When I first met him,
he resembled more a little forest animal than a person. He didn’t know how to
go potty and would poop in his clothes. Then he would go on in the same clothes
for days or weeks, only bathing when the rain fell on him.
He had seen better
days but now his mother was sick and had not the strength to take care of him.
In a parents meeting at the special education school we talked about the impact
that having a special needs child has to the whole family and she started
crying.
- I’m afraid what will
happen to my son when I die, she told us, I have a terminal cancer and the
doctors have given me only few months to live. And I know my son will be alone,
there is no one to take care of him after I go.
- What about his
father, we all asked.
And we learned that
Jorge had been the biggest joy and greatest disappointment in his father’s life.
The only son in a family with five daughter, in a culture where sons and men
are appreciate way beyond women, his father had been beyond himself when he had
born. He was named after his father and was the promise of the continuation of
the family line. Until the parents found out that he had the Down syndrome.
- We should stop
feeding him, his father had told his mother, then he will just die out and we
won’t need to do anything. It’s better for everyone. He will never amount to
anything, just going to be a waste of time and money for us.
After that he would
have nothing to do with his son, only mildly tolerate Jorge and shoo him away
if he would wander too close.
- What will happen to
my son after I die, her mother repeated, I’m afraid his father will kill him.
If not by other mean but by denying to give him any food.
- Everyone will know
it, one of the mothers told her, we will know. And we won’t let him do that.
- He only comes to the
special education school because I bring him, his mother continued, nobody will
bring him because he will bite them or throw poop on them. People call him a
best, say that he is dangerous and that he cannot be allowed be around other
people without supervision.
Nobody knew what to
say. All the mothers had their children to take care. It was too much to
promise to take care of another disabled child, one that was not your own.
- I will look after
him, I heard myself promise finally.
His mother looked so
surprised and burst out crying, unable to say anything.
During that school year
she passed out and Jorge did not return to the school. When we visited at his
home, we found him running around wild. Afraid to let people close, barefooted,
stinking in old tattered clothes that he must have wearing for days or weeks.
- I feed him, his
older sister told us, and he sleeps in his room. But he makes a mess out of
everything. And he poops in his clothes and I have to wash them. I don’t want
to touch him, he’s disgusting.
She was just sixteen,
still a child herself and in charge of her four sisters, her disabled brother,
their father and the household. Besides that she was trying to finish the high
school and get a degree to have a better life for herself. Who could really
blame her?
We never could find
Jorge’s father. But I kept looking. I had promised his mother. And maybe he
would feel that someone was looking, someone cared, and that would force him to
do something. At least to keep Jorge alive.
I managed to arrange a
spot for him in the school bus for the special education students. Then I
fought, charmed and blindly denied to take no for an answer, and got a
teacher’s aide to go to look for him from his home and bring him to the spot
where the bus would take both of them to the school.
It seemed like an
impossible task but little by little he learned not to try to hurt his fellow
students, to sit still and not throw the furniture around and destroy his
school supplies. And he learned not to swear, not to spit us, not to hit us
and, finally, he learned not to throw poop on us.
I cannot tell how many
staff meeting we had with the theme, if you show you are shocked or scared the
student (Jorge) will only act out more.
Do not react to what
he is doing. Do not show your shock. Act like it’s just another day. Act like
it’s not poop!
That was our mantra by
which we lived for the first six months. The changes were small but there were
things to celebrate.
Like when Jorge asked
for forgiveness for the first time. Or when he learned to wash his pants by
himself after pooping in them. Or like when he first used please and thank you
in a sentence.
After the school year
was over we visited his home to make sure his sister would take care of him.
And to tell her to make sure he would keep washing his own pants after he
pooped in them.
When the school year
started Jorge was the first student inscribed to his class level. His father
came the first day the inscriptions started. And when Jorge came to school he
was so proud. He had new leather shoes for the first time in his life. And the
whole school uniform.
He was so determined
to learn to use the bathroom, because he didn’t want to get any poop in his new
clothes. There still were times he lost his calm and attacked others. He still
had accidents and had to wash his clothes. And he still has the most extensive
vocabulary in the school. But he tries so hard.
Today Jorge’s father
is the vice-president of the parent-teacher association and you know that you
can ask his help for anything. He will always come through, because he wants
his son to have everything he needs.
Whenever someone comes
to the special education school to visit the students or the teachers Jorge is
the first to greet them.
- Did you greet them
already, he goes around directing the other students, you need to give your
hand and say Good Morning!
There he will be,
Jorge, making sure that everyone has their napkin and nobody is forgetting to
use it or their manners.
*The name has been
changed to protect student’s and his family’s identity.
