Room 2

Room 2 is one of the calm ones. The students there are able to sit at their desks most of the day, either because of their disposition, their medication, or their good training. They are high school age. Most of them wear diapers, if not all. This class has 2 girls, which is unusual at this school. The room’s location by the door at the end of the hallway allows students to venture outside daily. None of them are verbal, though some can use picture symbols, called pecs.

At first glance, it seems as though they are all lumps. They do not interact with each other or with staff. But when you spend a few minutes in Room 2, you can see that each one does have their own personality and abilities. Some are more compliant than others. Some can sweep the floor using a modified push broom. Some can feed themselves. Some of them are learning to buy things at the store. One boy likes to take naps on the couch, which they allow as long as there is a plastic mat between him and the couch—he has a habit of wetting himself during his naptimes. Another boy only runs goals if he knows he will be allowed to sit in the hallway or outside and listen to the music on a toy guitar. The teacher bought dozens of these for him.

Because the kids rarely need to be restrained or physically “helped” into compliance, many of the staff are older women. One is young and pregnant.

One of the staff in the room scared me for a long time. She was the only Latina at school, and she had dozens of awful tattoos. She had her own name tattooed in cursive on her left hand between her thumb and index finger, as if she doodled it there with a pen and decided to keep it. She has Chinese characters behind her ear. She has them on her neck, hands, arms, and surely other places I haven’t seen. She shaves her eyebrows and draws in perilously high ones. She wears lip-liner without lipstick. She greases her hair so that the top is completely flat, and the rest is wavy. (Any style is as good as another, but people from my background make certain judgments about people dressed this way.) She said a number of critical things to me in passing before she ever said anything nice. She wears hospital scrubs.

But I came to see her many talents as I worked as a sub in her room, and as a teacher across the hall. She is very patient with her students. She talks and jokes with them (or at them.) She gets very enthusiastic when a student succeeds. When other verbal and higher-functioning students at the school cause trouble, she tells them off right proper. You don’t want to cross her.

I learned in Room 2 to relate to people as people. There are valuable people with different social backgrounds and teaching styles than me, and they still deserve respect. There are children who cannot perform basic functions, and they also deserve respect. One can interact with them on their level—praise them when they are behaving correctly, correct them when they are lazy, and give them the attention they deserve.