Connections

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When have you "connected" with a person who has a disability different from your own?

Connections

Name: Jeff Welch
Email: jeffw@wadsp.org
Date: 30 Jan 2000
Time: 04:02:12
Remote Name: cust110.max5.seattle-k56.aa.net
Remote User:

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Direct support professionals who support people with disabilities in the community often form relationships that far supercede the narrow boundaries of the caregiver-participant role. Being involved in people's lives in all the myriad aspects of the support relationships often naturally leads to bonds and interactions that are atypical as compared with other professions, and even other aspect of the support profession.

Sometimes we grow so close to the people we support, we at times will share our personal lives with those we support, as they share so much with us. This can add a valuable and unique aspect to the support relationship, adding a dimension of mutual respect for one another as fellow human beings, more resembling other "natural support" relationships with others in the community not paid to provide supports. It can also help us as direct support professionals to recognize the value and importance of naturally supportive relationships with nondisabled peers, and help us as direct support professionals focus on supplementing and fostering those natural supports, rather than replacing them.

This series of articles is called "Connections". It will include stories of people with disabilities making personal connections with not only those who support them on a paid basis, but others in their communities. I encourage list members to write of their own experience and submit them to share with the list, or to forward other stories that highlight these relationships, and their importance to us all.

The following submission, "Connections-Gene and Katie" is drawn from my own experiences as a direct support professional.

I had supported for nearly 3 years Gene through the agency that I was working for. As "client's" go, Gene is highly enigmatic. He carries labels like "deaf" and "autistic", and communication with him is to say the least, unconventional. Communication with him is less of a process or an event than a "dance" of motion and action. He communicates using a mixture of rudimentary sign language, written word, and pictograms scribbled (artfully) on small pieces of paper that he carries around. Some pictograms he has (completely on his own) had laminated for frequent use in the community, and with his support workers. For receptive communication, Gene relies largely on his incredible intuition, and reads body language and facial expression like nobody I've ever worked with. Doctors, dentists and other professionals are surprised at the ease of developing a rapport with him, and soon rely less on me as an interpreter when we go to appointments together. Anyone who meets Gene and spends even a small amount of time with him is quick to recognize his innate intelligence, quick wit, creativity and personability.

Gene lives in a small, bungalow-style house, tucked neatly behind a newer triplex in a residential suburb. His small, one-bedroom home is partly furnished by handcrafted, windowed cabinets, which Gene has built himself over the years. On holidays, Gene hangs multi-colored accordion-style party spheres from his living room like so many cartoon planetoids.

Each year, Gene throws a birthday bash, decorating his home inside and out for the occasion, and inviting his friends, neighbors and supporters. His invitations go out several months before the actual event, usually taking place the 4th Saturday in June. This particular year, Joe's 49th, was no exception.

Having left the agency to take a break from the profession, and ceased supporting Gene in a paid capacity, however I still maintained occasional contact with him. His little house is only about 6 blocks and across one busy thoroughfare from my own, and I would from time to time drop by and say hello. Knowing where I live, he would come by my own house sometimes as well. One day I returned from work to find an invitation to his birthday party in my mailbox, my name (and nothing else) neatly written in red ink on the small envelope. As usual, it was about 3 months prior to the event.

His party itself, several months later was a great opportunity to celebrate with him, as well as to see some old friends. He had also invited several other people supported by the same agency, as well as a number of my former co-workers. With me at the party was also my 3 year-old daughter, Katie.

Katie delighted at Gene's brightly decorated home, adorned with balloons and streamers for the occasion, as well as his other colorful adornments. She also delighted at Gene himself.

While he does not speak, he does make a number of sounds, including clicks, buzzes, and repetitive verbalizations that vary with his mood and level of interest or excitement about things. Sometimes these sounds are punctuated with his delightful grin, and hearty chuckles indicating he is enjoying whatever happens to be going on. Katie presented him with his wrapped birthday gift, shooting him a delightful smile of her own and saying "Happy birthday!" in her bright, little girl voice. Gene took his gift, cupped his hand to his ear, rocked back and forth, smiled immensely and made happy-sounds.

"He's funny!" she said, delighted, and shoveled puffy birthday cake frosting into her mouth, managing to get some inside.

The next day following the party, Katie and I were in the driveway, working. Rather, I worked on the car while she crawled in and out of the front and back doors, occasionally turning the radio up full blast for as long as it took me to leap in and turn it down with a mild admonishment. During one of the low volume radio moments, I thought I heard something, and turned it down further. Buzzes. Clicks. Verbalizations that could only mean that Gene was in earshot, here at my home. I walked to the front of the driveway to see him standing there at the front of the house, looking a bit puzzled. I motioned him to the back where I was working and invited him to have an interaction to see what was on his mind.

He seemed almost disinterested in me, however. Instead of pulling out his notepad, he walked over to Katie, who was poking her head out of the back seat of the car. "Hi, Gene!" she said. He held out his hand to her and gave her something. He looked pleased, became quiet, and walked back down the drive, heading for home, not giving me a second glance.

In Katie's hands were two small block wooden figurines. One, a blue dove, had painted on its side the word "Peace". The other, a little sheep of the same block style had the word "Love" painted on it. Peace and Love. Sheep and Dove. A gift. A gesture. A wordless communication between a person with a disability, and a young child.

Somehow, some way, Katie had touch Gene in a unique way. Something about her, and their simple interaction of exchanging a gift and a smile, had motivated him to come to my house to make this simple, touching gesture to my 3 year old daughter and repeat the experience. I was blown away.

I'm back at that same agency now, and again supporting Gene on a regular basis. He still comes by my house, particularly if he needs something (last night at 7 p.m. a neighbor reported he had come by while I was out--as it turned out he wanted to let me know he would like to go to the State Fair). He and my daughter still exchange the occasional smile.

tari2bq63e

Name: 03vz1xmxyj
Email: hxciex@hotmail.com
Date: 27 Feb 2008
Time: 10:06:40
Remote Name: 195.2.252.180
Remote User:

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1coxbp0zuc

Name: yrl4lgzhf8
Email: xvbbqg@lycos.com
Date: 20 Apr 2008
Time: 18:42:27
Remote Name: 58.65.237.153
Remote User:

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Re: It Takes Time

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Date: 16 Feb 2008
Time: 02:42:25
Remote Name: 198.54.202.82
Remote User:

Connections

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Last changed: April 20, 2008

Re: It Takes Time

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