I work every Saturday and most Friday nights.... well, my friends laugh at that since what I do is more like play, so the word 'work' is probably a real stretch. Tonight's tough job was the monthly dance in Tempe... a VERY popular venue for the mentally challenged (adult) population.
Tonight's theme was Alice in Wonderland, to loosely go along with the fact it is Friday the 13th. Last month it was St Patrick's day (I've never seen so much green in one room in my LIFE!!)
My car was full of excited party-goers: Kraig, David, and John and Wendy (they are married and live around the corner. They are not clients; I just offered, and so they come along now to the dances. ) In the photo are Kraig and the girl Veronica who is his almost girlfriend at these dances; Aaron, I think; and then David on the far right.)
We first stopped to eat at CC's Pizza and then on to the Pyle Center, which is actually the senior center in Tempe and where we get to have events 2 Fridays each month. These dances are well-attended, with the area's group homes arriving by the vanloads. The music starts up at 6:30 while the eager dancers stand in line, pulling out $4 at the table before going into the hall, which has a tiny stage, several long tables with chairs, and then plenty of room for dancing. Many will only sit at the tables sipping punch or soda, eating cookies, trying to speak over the music. The LOUD music. And as loud as it is, there are a few who prefer to stand right in front of the speakers, dancing or rocking, the WHOLE TIME.
I stay out in the large 'foyer'/sitting area, which leads back to a gym, pool tables and classrooms and meeting rooms. I'll brave the noise and stick my head in once to check on my dancers and grab an oreo, then take up a vigil on the couch to read or do some beading.
And I'm visited for over 2 hours by my many friends.... I'm now a listening ear and they come and sit and just talk and talk... which is why I bring something like beading, I rarely get much reading done.
Tonight's cast of characters included Poco and Joselle, who've been a couple for a few years now. They both have Down Syndrome and work at grocery stores bagging and collecting the carts. There's Robert who is hanging around on the couches with me, moping because I didn't bring in HIS girlfriend, my usual Beth who I drive around 3 times most weeks.
And Ursula Rooney, who bent my ear much of the time; she's a couple of years younger than I am and we've been friends for 10 years, and she is a real talker! Happy, chipper, upbeat and just gab, gab, gab. She shows me her new bracelet or earrings her mom brought back from some trip somewhere, and she always has clothes to match the holiday.
Poco wants me to know how sad he is because his friend and co-worker, Deon Austin, was shot and killed just over a week ago, somewhere in Phoenix near his home. They worked together at Poco's second job, at a hospital. The funeral was Saturday, and Poco was talking about seeing Deon in the casket. He didn't cry at the funeral, but then when he got home he just really cried and cried.
Joselle sat next to him, sort of grimacing in back pain. It seems this week while she was gathering baskets in the parking lot at the grocery store, an old woman backed her car right into Joselle. "And Robin, I was wearing the orange vest! And she just hit me in my back and I fell forward onto my knees." They took her by ambulance to the hospital for some x-rays and she insisted she was okay, but I could tell she wasn't her usual bubbly self, sitting out much of the dancing.
Ursula sat on the arm of the couch nearest me. She's 52, she has a son who is married and lives in Colorado (he was raised by his grandparents.) And tonight she is talking quickly about her upcoming (July) trip out to Cincinnati to vacation with one of her sisters. She got an Easter card from her, but not from her other siblings. "So how many sisters do you have?"
"Four of them. And 7 brothers."
"Your mother had 12 kids?!"
"Well, actually, 13. One of my brothers died when he was a baby. My brother and sister were watching him in his crib out in the yard and he just died!"
"Oh, that's sad. Wait, your mom that I met... she had 13 children?"
"Oh, no, that's my step mother. My real mom died when we were moving from New York to Kansas City. She and my dad went to buy a house and she just dropped dead in the airport."
Ursula talks fast and she told me a lot more, but the story that will really stick with me was an event that occurred when she was in 1st grade. She was mainstreamed, attending regular classes with her siblings - this would have been about 1964 in Long Island, NY, prior to the special Ed classes available now. For some reason the teacher was fed up with her and told her she needed to leave.
"She didn't like me, she told me to go home, I couldn't stay in her class. So I went out and sat in the hallway. But she came out and said, NO, I had to leave! But I was only in 1st grade, I needed to wait for my brothers and sisters, to walk home with them. So I went outside and sat on the steps to wait. "
"But then they came out and said I couldn't sit there, either, so I had to leave, I had to go home. So I started walking. But I think I turned right when I should have turned left, I didn't know how to get home; I'd always walked with my brothers and sisters!"
So Ursula just walked and walked, through that town and on to another one. In that second town a woman saw her and thought it strange that this 6 yr old was on her own just walking alone like that, and called the police. They finally located her mother.
"I mean, why did they do that, I was just a KID!! They shouldn't have just made me leave like that!"
Tonight's theme was Alice in Wonderland, to loosely go along with the fact it is Friday the 13th. Last month it was St Patrick's day (I've never seen so much green in one room in my LIFE!!)
My car was full of excited party-goers: Kraig, David, and John and Wendy (they are married and live around the corner. They are not clients; I just offered, and so they come along now to the dances. ) In the photo are Kraig and the girl Veronica who is his almost girlfriend at these dances; Aaron, I think; and then David on the far right.)
We first stopped to eat at CC's Pizza and then on to the Pyle Center, which is actually the senior center in Tempe and where we get to have events 2 Fridays each month. These dances are well-attended, with the area's group homes arriving by the vanloads. The music starts up at 6:30 while the eager dancers stand in line, pulling out $4 at the table before going into the hall, which has a tiny stage, several long tables with chairs, and then plenty of room for dancing. Many will only sit at the tables sipping punch or soda, eating cookies, trying to speak over the music. The LOUD music. And as loud as it is, there are a few who prefer to stand right in front of the speakers, dancing or rocking, the WHOLE TIME.
I stay out in the large 'foyer'/sitting area, which leads back to a gym, pool tables and classrooms and meeting rooms. I'll brave the noise and stick my head in once to check on my dancers and grab an oreo, then take up a vigil on the couch to read or do some beading.
And I'm visited for over 2 hours by my many friends.... I'm now a listening ear and they come and sit and just talk and talk... which is why I bring something like beading, I rarely get much reading done.
Tonight's cast of characters included Poco and Joselle, who've been a couple for a few years now. They both have Down Syndrome and work at grocery stores bagging and collecting the carts. There's Robert who is hanging around on the couches with me, moping because I didn't bring in HIS girlfriend, my usual Beth who I drive around 3 times most weeks.
And Ursula Rooney, who bent my ear much of the time; she's a couple of years younger than I am and we've been friends for 10 years, and she is a real talker! Happy, chipper, upbeat and just gab, gab, gab. She shows me her new bracelet or earrings her mom brought back from some trip somewhere, and she always has clothes to match the holiday.
Poco wants me to know how sad he is because his friend and co-worker, Deon Austin, was shot and killed just over a week ago, somewhere in Phoenix near his home. They worked together at Poco's second job, at a hospital. The funeral was Saturday, and Poco was talking about seeing Deon in the casket. He didn't cry at the funeral, but then when he got home he just really cried and cried.
Joselle sat next to him, sort of grimacing in back pain. It seems this week while she was gathering baskets in the parking lot at the grocery store, an old woman backed her car right into Joselle. "And Robin, I was wearing the orange vest! And she just hit me in my back and I fell forward onto my knees." They took her by ambulance to the hospital for some x-rays and she insisted she was okay, but I could tell she wasn't her usual bubbly self, sitting out much of the dancing.
Ursula sat on the arm of the couch nearest me. She's 52, she has a son who is married and lives in Colorado (he was raised by his grandparents.) And tonight she is talking quickly about her upcoming (July) trip out to Cincinnati to vacation with one of her sisters. She got an Easter card from her, but not from her other siblings. "So how many sisters do you have?"
"Four of them. And 7 brothers."
"Your mother had 12 kids?!"
"Well, actually, 13. One of my brothers died when he was a baby. My brother and sister were watching him in his crib out in the yard and he just died!"
"Oh, that's sad. Wait, your mom that I met... she had 13 children?"
"Oh, no, that's my step mother. My real mom died when we were moving from New York to Kansas City. She and my dad went to buy a house and she just dropped dead in the airport."
Ursula talks fast and she told me a lot more, but the story that will really stick with me was an event that occurred when she was in 1st grade. She was mainstreamed, attending regular classes with her siblings - this would have been about 1964 in Long Island, NY, prior to the special Ed classes available now. For some reason the teacher was fed up with her and told her she needed to leave.
"She didn't like me, she told me to go home, I couldn't stay in her class. So I went out and sat in the hallway. But she came out and said, NO, I had to leave! But I was only in 1st grade, I needed to wait for my brothers and sisters, to walk home with them. So I went outside and sat on the steps to wait. "
"But then they came out and said I couldn't sit there, either, so I had to leave, I had to go home. So I started walking. But I think I turned right when I should have turned left, I didn't know how to get home; I'd always walked with my brothers and sisters!"
So Ursula just walked and walked, through that town and on to another one. In that second town a woman saw her and thought it strange that this 6 yr old was on her own just walking alone like that, and called the police. They finally located her mother.
"I mean, why did they do that, I was just a KID!! They shouldn't have just made me leave like that!"
Aren't they just all so fascinating and fun! It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it! ;c)
Robin, it sounds like you really love what you're doing! It's nice to be able to read a bit more about what's up in your neck of the woods, thanks for sharing with us.
ReplyDeleteoh my...i had no idea ursula had such a colorful life. and i can totally picture how she would tell that story...just lay it all out there.
ReplyDelete