On Wisdom and Reflection

Reflection on Wisdom 

Unitarian Society of Santa Barbara

Sunday, June 24, 2012

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If you prefer an audio version, click on the link below.

http://www.ussb.org/mp3s/2012/20120624reflectionCbergante.mp3

We all have stories. Things happen to us every day, big and small. If we make time to think deeply about these stories, to chew on them as we go through our day, we often discover that our stories contain wisdom. I like to use journal writing and blogging to reflect on my experiences. Here is one of my stories.

When I was offered the job as a Vocational Assistant for students with severe disabilities, I almost didn't accept it. In the interview I learned that the young adult students I would be working with were non-verbal and some were aggressive. They needed intimate assistance in the restroom, and there would be some lifting of wheelchair bound students. And I would be one on one with these students at job sites out in the community. Oh boy. I left the interview thinking, I hope they don't offer me the job. I'm not cut out for this. But they did and, with some trepidation, I accepted.

When I walked in the classroom the first day, there were six students, the teacher and two classroom aides. After about ten minutes, the teacher took me outside and gave me the rundown on each student, warning me about one in particular. Helene (not her real name).

Helene is nineteen years old. She has severe autism. She does not speak, but she understands. She is slow moving, but outweighs me by many pounds. When frustrated, she is prone to self-injurious behaviors such as hitting and biting herself, along with screaming and hitting or grabbing staff members. The teacher told me that I should ignore these behaviors if they occur. I should not express sympathy or concern or she would target me, increasing the frequency of her maladaptive behaviors. Back in the classroom I kept my distance from Helene, not daring to even make eye contact with her, certain that she would smell fear and come after me.

In the coming weeks I got to know the students a bit and I witnessed Helene scream and grab a staff member. The other staff members assisted Helene with all of her tasks, including the restroom. I was never alone with her. I noticed that other staff members were not very warm with Helene. And I supposed that detachment was what was called for in working with her.

Finally, my time came. The other female staff member went out on disability leave with a bad back and I, green as I was, became the senior female staff member in the classroom. This meant I would be the one taking Helene to the bathroom.

Well, the bathroom was one of the places Helene had the most trouble with. And it wasn't long before I got trapped in a stall with her screaming, biting her arm, and eventually grabbing the front of my shirt in a tight grip while slapping at me with her other hand. Foolishly I had let her get between me and the door, so it took some careful maneuvering to get myself out of the stall. Helene continued to scream and bite her arm while I waited outside, my heart racing. When she calmed down I helped her back to the classroom, shaking, but feeling like I had survived a rite of passage. I could do this.

That was two years ago. Through presence, patience, and persistance, Helene and I have built a strong relationship. We walk arm and arm when we go to her recycling job. I fix her hair and look at fashion magazines with her. After she completes her job, I give her hand massages with sweet smelling lotion. We listen to music together in the car and she smiles and rocks while I sing along. Although she is pretty much non-verbal, she does let out a good humored expletive on occasion. (This is considered “inappropriate” behavior, so I turn my head when I smile.) I compliment her on her clothes and tell her that if her green cowboy boots were in my size, she'd have to worry. I give her choices whenever I can, because she has so few in her life. I even know what type of guy she likes (it's all about muscles for Helene). She still has outbursts, but not as many as she used to. And when she does, I do not ignore her behavior (and neither do other staff in her new classroom). I assure her that she's OK. I tell her that I'm not going to let her hurt herself. And I tell her that I'm not going to let her hurt me either, because we are friends. I wait her out.

Helene does not talk, but I am learning to listen. And she has taught me a lot about about what it means to be fully human. Here is some of the wisdom she has imparted, all without uttering a single word (except for the occasional expletive):

• Everyone wants to be seen, really seen, and accepted for who they are. Pity only tells someone there is something wrong with them. As the author Temple Grandin, who also has autism, says, “I am different. Not less.” Aren't we all?

• Everyone wants to be heard. We want people to listen when we are upset, angry, sad, happy, confused. If we are having trouble expressing these emotions, we want someone to take the time to help us figure out what we are trying to say. Temple Grandin says, “I can remember the frustration of not being able to talk. I knew what I wanted to say, but I could not get the words out, so I would just scream.” I can't begin to count the times I have wanted to scream (and occasionally actually have screamed) when I just couldn't get the words out or did not feel heard.
  
  
  
• Everyone wants to be touched sometimes. Remember that when you are around someone who is maybe not immediately loveable and cuddly. A gentle touch on the hand can go a long way. How many times has a touch or a hug or a back rub been your saving grace on a bad day?
  
  
• Patience gives you time to really see, hear, and care for a person. Slow down and just be present with someone, fully present. And be persistant. Don't assume that what other people say about them will be true for you. Every relationship is a new beginning.

I am grateful to Helene and the other students I work with for reminding me of these things every day.

Wisdom can come from many sources, some more obvious than others. But whether it comes from a sage or from a young woman who cannot speak, I believe it's impossible to fully embrace wisdom without reflection. THAT particular piece of wisdom is something I have learned time and time again from so many people and experiences right here in this place. We all have stories. And in every story, there are truths and wisdom just waiting to be uncovered. Be present. Be patient. Be persistant. And take time for reflection.