Teachers in semi-audible sounds

 

I recently finished up an internship at an adult day program. This is where folks who have extreme disabilities can go during the week to socialize, get stimulated with different activities and work. Some adults have a developmental age of as low as 4, some are confined to a wheelchair, twisted up by cerebral palsy. Some are blind and can't speak, some can only squeal. I had never been exposed to such a population in all of my 53 years. I have to admit it was a shock at first.

The first part of my internship was working people with cerebral palsy. All men from ages 30 to 70, they are there during the week to socialize, but more importantly to be freed from the prison that has contained them all their lives. This department, led by a very enthusiastic and creative woman, endeavors to give them ways to communicate and express themselves. Sharp minds, but with bodies that don’t cooperate, my first experience was to become an instrument for Dave. He has an artist’s eye and has created paintings through other individuals using A.R.T. (Artistic Realization Method). Designed by a visiting artist, Tim Lefens, years earlier, it is a way for a person to express themselves in an artistic way. The “instrument” or in this case me, must set aside all preconceived ideas, all judgments about color and composition, and be a blank intuitive receptor to the artist. The artist, may if possible verbally direct their “instrument” or can use a laser to point to what color, where to put a line, whether the curve of a line is the right shape, etc. It is a very slow process that requires a lot of intuition, patience and an ability to connect to the person who has very little to communicate with. This could be done with photography, graphics or paint and using traditional methods or computer technology.

Dave could verbally communicate, but he was difficult to understand. (think Christie Brown in “My Left Foot”) So thankfully, we were moved to a quieter room and in no time, we were communicating. Dave has an artist's eye and a love of Broadway, so we were going to be painting Zazu, from the Lion King musical. His future intent was to create a narrative to reenact the musical for the rest of the group who had never seen it. We worked from a photograph in the program as a reference. In another post I will share the entire process with photos of his works. But for now I will share my emotional response. With any connection there is mutual exchange. Nine times out of ten when you place yourself in a situation where you think of the people as “less-than” and you are there to facilitate change, you are the one who is changed. And I certainly have been changed. Being with folks whose every day existence is a challenge, and they are completely vulnerable and dependent on others, makes you grateful for things you take for granted to be sure. But there is a deeper response that transpires. A surrender to self and all preconceived ideas and drives. If you are to be someone's instrument, and be a good one, you must do this. Every curve every line every shape must be that person's, not your own.

I saw the Lion King musical so Dave and I had an instant connection. When you give yourself over to the process, you would be surprised how quickly you adapt, and there is a kind of rhythm that happens. Once you blend a certain way, you can say, “like this?” and you build on that. However what is extraordinary are the surprises. Like any of us, our mind is on many things. For Dave it takes extreme concentration to form a sound to get a word out. I would find that what he was saying was not a direction toward the painting, sometimes it was a joke. Or sometimes it was something about his life.

There was a point in the painting where we worked on a tool, so that he could paint part of it himself. He said, “I don't want it to look ridiculous”. Understanding his own limitations, I assured him it wouldn't. I am so grateful for having the opportunity to get to know Dave, and I hope (after releases are signed) to be able to share his artwork with you!

My next experience was in another department, under the tutelage of the Fine Arts Coordinator. His job was to create adaptive tools and devise ways to create sellable works of art. The Adult Day Program is structured in modules, one of which is “work”. A way for the clients to earn a paycheck. Higher functioning clients are in the workshop; an assembly line type atmosphere packing jelly or stuffing cotton in gift boxes. Others do similar things in a module, not all day. Still others create art to be put up for sale in the spring art show. That is one of the Fine Arts Coordinator's (FAC) jobs. Sometimes a client will draw something that is encouraged to be painted. So the FAC projects that on a canvas for the client to trace and then to paint. Sounds pretty straight forward right? Not so. Most of these folks are highly temperamental, many with dual diagnosis or short attention spans. If we could keep them engaged for 45 minutes to an hour, that was a real accomplishment. Others in wheelchairs, the A.R.T. Technique was used, but often had to be simplified, like cutting out shapes and having them point with a laser to what shape to use and what color. It's all about giving them choices, and keeping them from becoming “institutionalized”. A good percentage of their lives are determined by their caregivers and facilitators. The art department gives them freedom to make decisions and control their world. I was able to work with the same individuals during the course of the rest of my stay. It was wonderful to have them look forward to our activities. Each person was intriguing in their own way, but one in particular stole my heart. She ran up and gave me a hug the first day. I was determined to work with her, but I only got her to participate once. She was contented to watch when the two other ladies that I worked with did their activities. The longer I allowed her to just be an observer, the more she would seek me out and make a gesture about my shoes or how cold it was outside. Then she started pointing out colors and giving sign language for the first letter in the color name while saying it. I would praise her for getting it right, and she did get it right most of the time. She then would sign the first letter to people's name. By the end I asked her the first letter of each of 3 names and pointed out that together it spelled C-A-T. Did I practice art therapy with her? Not directly. But this is a by product of the action. Though she did not participate in the art itself, it became a topic of conversation, as to whether I would do it that day, and gave her reason to spend time with myself and the other two participants. Talk therapy, or good old fashioned conversation, establishing camaraderie and trust is a big part of any therapeutic relationship. As for the art that the others did, each was differently skilled. One was very orderly and relatively adept at the motor functions I was asking her to do. The other one may not have always understood what I was saying, but had a definite aesthetic sense. None of these individuals spoke very much, and when I tried to have a conversation with them, it had to be brief simple questions. However, what we shared in that 45-60 minutes I believe gave them a sanctuary of freedom to express themselves the way they wished. I, on the other hand got something greater, which is once again, love is the beacon by which we can navigate and communicate through any presumed divide.