THE EYES HAVE IT

Or

THE THRILL OF A GREAT JOKE

I vividly remember the children who taught me that though the body may be “delayed, different, or disabled” the mind is still active and can be full of mischief.

As a parent (and someone works with kids and teens), I enjoy watching children’s eyes to see if they are paying attention or telling the truth.  Even in TV police shows you hear, “He has shifty eyes.”  If you look into a child’s eyes, you can see so much – excitement, sadness, whether they are tired or wound up.  When a child cannot speak, has limited movement or a communication disorder, you really need to pay attention to their facial expression and eyes. 

If you are rushed - and often we are – you will miss out on so much.  Just as the adage states, “Stop and smell the roses.”  Take the time to slow down and see what is really going on around you.  Take time to connect.  I have found that it is true and apt for the work I do.  I would have missed so much.

Barry’s Story

In the 1980’s I started working in a day care at Sunny Hill Health Centre for Children.  My experience up to this point was working with typical children.  The new experience at SHH interacting with children who had different abilities was an eye-opener and I learned how much actually goes on in the children’s heads. 

One particular boy captured my heart, and my funny-bone.  Barry was 4 years old, although with delayed physical development he was more the size of a two year old.   He had limited physical control and no verbal skills.  One day I was on a mat with him, working on stretching his legs, when I found him stiffening his legs rather than flowing with me.  This was not usual and I suddenly thought, “He’s teasing me!”  So I looked at his face and exclaimed, “Hey, Barry, are you teasing me?”  His eyes and face lit up.  I could almost hear the laughter in his eyes!  What a wonderful awakening for me and what an amazing connection.


Take time to connect with your client.

Pete’s Story

Fast forward 25 years – I was working in a support room at a high school in Maple Ridge, B.C.  The students were all unique (aren’t we all?) due to varying disorders including Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD).  Pete, a fourteen year old, seldom talked directly to people.  Although he was high functioning, he preferred not to interact with others.  (Yet, in another installment we discover that he does interact in his own way.)  He coped best with a work-break schedule and limited verbal input.  I didn’t usually work with Pete but when there was a staff shortage I was assigned to him for the afternoon. 

By this time in my career, I had learned the importance of being calm and centered. The less yakking I do, the more comfortable the students with ASD are.  Pete was a prime example of that.  Although I hadn’t worked with him before, he seemed to be comfortable with me.  It was during his break time that he touched my heart.

Pete was in his usual quiet corner playing with Lego.  He had built a house and was adding to it.  As I was watching a short distance away he said, “Look at the door.”  Then Pete looked directly at my face.  To me that was an invitation to come see the door.  I went over to him and we examined the Lego house together.  Pete was comfortable with the short comments I made.  I felt honoured.

A simple look can open a world of possibilities.