How Many Teachers Does it Take…

I never thought I could hate a puzzle, let alone a simple one that only required sorting colored rings onto poles. I never thought that someone could truly hate an inanimate object so much that they honestly wished it into oblivion. I never though these things but there I sat, shifting back and forth on the brown mat, filled with impatience as I stared down a little boy named Junid over a rainbow ring puzzle. Rewinding a bit, it is around 12:15 in the afternoon on Tuesday and I am working at Manovikas Kendra Rehabilitation Institute with my 11am class which today only consisted of two kids.

When I first entered the room I was met by the smile of a small Down Syndrome boy who bashful waved back at my enthusiastic “Hello!” I immediately loved this little boy even though my teacher Sukanya proclaimed him “a very naughty boy”. Naughty? Ha, I had no IDEA what naughty even was until it walked in the door a minute later. Naughty looked demure at first, just a 5-year-old slender boy in an orange sleeveless t-shirt. Naughty then proceeded to beam at me with his small pearly baby teeth in perfect array. I should have known that the end of my sanity was near as he wiggled when we put him in his desk but I was in the thrusts of denial. It couldn’t be that bad right? He was just one little autistic boy and there was a whopping four teacher and two parents for only the two little boys. In terms of underestimates mine was on par with the guy who said “Oh yeah, 20 life boats? That’s definitely all the Titanic needs!”  Since that day there was a woman doing her internship for the special education teacher credential program Sukanya gave the Down Syndrome boy to her and instructed Kristen and I to work with the little boy in the orange shirt whose name we learned was Junid.

The first task of the day was putting plastic bottle caps into a box that had a hole cut out of it. As if to make what was to come even worse by comparison, Junid performed this task with flying colors. His fingers flew as he grabbed the caps to prodding’s of “Tolo! (pick)” and “Roko (put)” from Kristen and I. After that task was done Kristen pulled over another task that consisted of putting round wooden balls onto sticks. This was where the first signs of trouble appeared. Every other piece that Junid picked up somehow seemed to end up in his mouth. Frantic shouts of “No Junid! Put Down! Not There!” rang throughout the humid room in between tense moments of silence where we would watch him pick up the piece and observe it. We would stare at him, listening to the buzzing of the ceiling fans, all the while nudging him to put the ball on the stick. More oft than not he would make as if to put the ball on the stick then fake us out and pop it into his waiting mouth. Luckily, this particular task was not that long and soon it was off to matching and coloring.

The next activities were done in his workbook and they consisted of one page of connecting the dots to practice straight lines, one page of matching shapes, and one last page of coloring in a picture. The second that Junid’s mom handed him the pencil, he did as most autistic children will do when handed with their object of choice. He stimmed. This is layman’s term for sensory stimulation, which for Junid consisted of him pinching the small pencil and shaking it back and forth in his mouth hitting his teeth. Every attempt to get him to do the workbook was met with grunts and shrieks of distaste until finally Sukanya stepped in and forcibly held his hand and made him do the task.  After this particular lesson was over we moved on to what was going to be the most difficult 10 minutes of my Tuesday: the color ring puzzle.

The color ring puzzle consisted of six stakes upon which colored ring of blue, red, orange, yellow, green, and white were to be placed. I don’t know what it was about this particular task, maybe the rings looked like candy, maybe it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, maybe it just hit that time of day when he decided he turned into a pumpkin but Junid was NOT having it. Every piece went onto the wrong ring or straight into the mouth. When he was prompted to “Dako (look)” he would tip his head back and pretend to sleep. I hated that puzzle. It got to the point where there were literally four of us (Kristen, Sukanya, Junid’s mother, and I) all holding down one 60lb five year old trying to make him do the puzzle. Based on his screams you would have thought that we were asking him to grasp hot coals. I looked over wistfully as the Down Syndrome boy dutifully traced his letters in his workbook, looking up every once in awhile for praise from the intern. Junid did not care if we pleaded, scolded, or demanded. He just wasn’t going to do it. So, how many teachers did it take to get a five year old to do a puzzle? 4. And we barely won. Barely.

After the hurricane had passed and Junid sat happily hitting a spoon against his teeth as the kids had “Tiffin” (what they call lunch here) I sat crosslegged with Kristen and wiped sweat from my brow. I felt like I just ran a marathon, without the satisfaction. Something I am starting to learn here is that not every encounter that I have with the kids is going to be rewarding. I have kids cry when they see me coming over because they know that I am going to make them do work and one girl even peed on me in an attempt to get out of doing a puzzle while she sat on my lap. Not every experience is enjoyable but I come away knowing something new from every one. Junid taught me that even when I want to give up and let the kid have their way, I have to persevere to teach them that acting out does not accomplish anything.

Within a week I plan on having a post about my morning class and hopefully some pictures to show of their smiling (maybe) faces!