2 weeks notice

On the 10th of this month ( February ) , I will be starting a new job.

I’ll be earning a bit less than Ive been earning here at the group home, but it’s a significantly easier gig, with hours that will allow me to rejoin the world I once knew; where I made dinners for my family and friends, and attended events that took place between 6:00pm and midnight - you know , the kind of common life-events that are available to denizens of the 9 to 5 world. My new hours will be more like 7:30-3:30, but after almost 3 years of 3:00 p.m. to 11:00p.m., Sunday through Thursday , as well as a number of double shifts ( 7:30 a.m.- 11:00 p.m. ), my new schedule will be a cakewalk.

Now, when I leave my job, the sun will still be up.

As of the 10th, I will be joining the staff at Rockland BOCES, as a Teacher’s assistant.I have never done this kind of work before, and Im excited to start. I’ll still be dealing with a “ vulnerable population “, just not as extremely intellectually disabled as the guys Ive been with at the group home, which will be very interesting for me, and will require SOME getting used to. After caring for Susie exclusively for the last 10 months of her life, then COVID-19 , to attending to 5 intellectually disabled men in their mid-thirties ; supporting them in their day-to-day living, which included feeding them and doing their laundry, as well as their bathing and toileting, which Ive been doing for the last 3 years. At this point,Im pretty sure I could get used to anything.

Weirdly enough, the one thing thats going to be hard to get used to, is NOT doing these things anymore.

I think that when the internal psychic barrier that makes us squeamish in the presence of other people’s offal comes down , largely ,to just get the job done, an intense intimacy occurs. Maybe just for me, I don’t know.

These men, at this point, are truly family to me. God knows, I’ve spent more time with them than my blood family. Their diagnosis’, are like their resumes- I read their files to learn about them, since they couldn’t tell me themselves, all of the guys being “ non-verbal “. The use of that designation , though, was frowned upon by the organization that I worked for, and was responsible for their care. We were formally instructed to describe them as “ not using words to communicate “. We were even told not to refer to them as “ my guys “- it was considered “ diminishing “ to use that common casual grouping, which I , frankly, thought ( and think ) is ridiculous. I DO understand the organization’s rather over-the-top efforts to show respect, because getting the world to think and act differently towards the “ neuro-divergent “ will always be an uphill battle. And while I agree that language shapes / causes behaviors and attitudes, and defines identities, I also think that being overly precious about it, draws even more attention to the fact that THIS, is a “ person who is disabled “ . We were NOT to say“ disabled person “- our training emphasized leading with their “ person-hood “ , over their disability , the belief being that calling them “ disabled people “ would be defining them by their disability . I agree ( to a degree ) - call them by their names, for gods sake, of course, but I also think its important to be realistic about the world’s ability to understand the noble effort we’re undertaking to integrate these folks into regular life. I believe in saying upfront -

“Hey - my buddy here is what you’d call “ neuro-divergent “, a nine dollar expression for what used to be referred to as “ mentally retarded “. That’s all changed, now. It’s believed that calling someone mentally retarded is disparaging to the person in question, and that’s mostly from several generations of playground insults ; as in , “Whaddaya , a f-kin’ RE-TAHD , or sumpin ? “

..Yup , that terms not coming back anytime soon, and we have no one to blame but ourselves…”

The thing is, THEY ARE DIFFERENT , and they are decidedly at a disadvantage , when dealing with the world. They NEED our help, and we should be on the lookout, anyway, for people who seem to be having a difficult time - counting their change in the checkout line or bus stop ( Christ…thats ME…) ; confused by travel instructions, or just crossing the street. I think our world becomes a better place, when our more vulnerable citizens can be out in the day-to-day world with us. It can be a pain in the ass, sure … but , really, what if that round-faced guy in the windbreaker, who’s been trying to cross the street for 20 minutes, and is becoming increasingly confused and frightened by the lights, or the people rushing by.. I KNOW it’s corny and a cliche to resort to this question ; , but what if that was you, or someone you loved ? Our country is in such a big fucking hurry to destroy itself , maybe we could just kick it in the knee, and turn our focus to windbreaker guy, who could use an elbow to hold , as he crosses …who is actually a heavenly messenger , sent here to complicate your day, by making you have to look at everyone through your heart right now, despite the big, goddamn hurry towards the big nothing. Windbreaker guy, despite his street corner crisis ,is here to transform us- from the self-righteous shit heads we become when we’re disappointed in some outcome, or lost in our heads over heartache and loss…Windbreaker needs YOU right now. He’s testing your empathy reflexes, because when the flood comes, we’re gonna need everyone’s shoulder to shore up the Levee, and I think Windbreaker-guy would love to help ; we just may need to explain what we need him to do a couple of times…

We HAVE to consider different levels of understanding when we talk to each other, and it’s rarely about neuro-divergence.

There are people that I can’t communicate with, who probably scored average or higher on their S.A.T.’s, because they have strongly held beliefs that don’t allow him or her to consort with scum like me, and maybe I didn’t think to ask them, because they were blasting Ted Nugent or Lee Greenwood on their pickup trucks CD player, and I ASSUMED a ….ahhh…lets just say ; a lack of nuance to their thinking. I didnt even give them a chance, and it wasn’t about different intellectual capacity ( well, maybe a LITTLE…) - it was about their level of decency, being reduced to their ideological stance, and thats just awful - I DONT want to be that kind of person.

So, too, the intellectually challenged - give ‘em a chance, and if theyre not up to the task…well, you’ve still managed to create an environment where people are SEEN & INCLUDED.

THATS where I want to live.

I will be coming back to the group home, occasionally , to visit “ my guys “ ( ha ha ha ! - Im no longer working there, so I can go back to my wild and wooly ways and MY take on inclusive language - you cant stop me ! ) frequently, schedule permitting. I’ve learned so much about myself from these guys, that they’ve taken up residence in my heart.

So, it looks like Im not going anywhere

Without them -

“ as you treat the least of mine, so you treat me “ - NKJV Bible