HELP ME - I'M IN HERE!

THOMAS’ STORY  (What I imagine he would have said.)

I feel like a nobody.  I am a nothing.  People are all around me but they don’t see me.  Only one person seems to know that I am more than my disability.  Tammy always says, “Hello, Thomas, how are you today?” and she waits for me to answer.  No, I don’t speak out loud but I do look at her and smile.  When Tammy is around I feel like I am somebody.

The others take care of me but don’t seem to understand that I need more than just being cared for.  I want to do things, I want to be involved, I want to learn.  The computer is important to me.  I’m smart – did you know that?  I listen to what you say to each other.  I follow along with the words as Tammy reads to me. 

Being in this place is boring and lonely.  My family is so far away and don’t visit very often.  I want to tell them to take me out of here but they don’t understand.  They’re sad to see me here but don’t know what else to do.  I have no friends.  I have no way to talk with others.  I have no way to say, “Let’s play cards or play games on the computer.”  I have no choice in what I do.

I want to scream, “I’m in here!  Someone help me!”  I can’t speak. But I can use the computer.  I practice and practice and teach myself how to type words.

Now I can say, “I am in here.  Now I have a voice.”

HELP ME - I'M IN HERE!

or

NOW I HAVE A VOICE


When you give a child the tools to express himself you may be surprised 
how far he can go and how much he can share.

Connie, Alan and Thomas

Tammy, an acquaintance of mine, worked with special needs teens and adults in a facility in Victoria, BC.  Tammy interacted with the clients, telling them about her family, sharing photos, reading stories.  She would let Thomas play on the computer. Some of her co-workers didn’t understand why she was doing this.¹  They thought that she was wasting her time, “Connie doesn’t know what you’re talking about.  Why do you bother?” or “Alan doesn’t understand what you are reading.”  By watching carefully though, they started to see the reactions of the clients.

Tammy didn’t have any specific training but she could see how Connie responded to her. Connie vocalized and almost bounced in her wheelchair when she saw Tammy with the photo albums. She looked directly at the photo albums and laughed. Alan may not have understood what Tammy was reading but he smiled and leaned toward her as she read. It was all about connection and interaction.  Thomas was focused and alert when he was using the computer even though nothing he did on it made sense to anyone else.

Connie, Alan and Thomas were being acknowledged and shown some interest.  They had a friend in Tammy.

When the de-institutionalization of person with disabilities was established, many of the clients were moved to group homes.  Tammy had to move on to a different job.  Connie, Alan and Thomas moved to various group homes. 

A few years later, Tammy met up with one of her previous co-workers.  She passed on some amazing news about Thomas.  At his group home, he kept on wheeling to the computer to use the keyboard.  One of his caregivers went over to see what he was doing.  By watching and listening to everyone around him, Thomas had taught himself to read, spell and use the keyboard.  On the screen he had typed, “I am in here, someone help me.”

When I heard this story, my heart went out to Thomas.  But this is not a sad story. This is a story about determination, drive and inspiration.  

1.  In the past, it was common practice to label people with developmental disabilities as "mentally retarded" or "mentally handicapped" and place them in institutions. The philosophies of care and treatment changed over the decades, from custodial care and confinement to hospital or medical care to education and development.  As a result, attitudes towards people with developmental disabilities have changed dramatically over the last few decades.