Day 10

           Decidedly, I won’t stop stumbling from surprise to surprise. I cannot complain about having had my hair pulled by Fe or Si. What I witnessed today make those assaults seem quite petty. Mu scratched April’s neck. Suddenly. Almost out of nowhere. Mm, actually, that is not the complete truth. I have my belief on the cause of Mu’s outburst.

           Mu arrived thirty eight minutes late this morning. April and I both ran out to open the gate and greet Mu and his mother. While I led Mu inside the house (which I did happily, as I escaped the unmerciful current of wind), April remained a few minutes longer, caught in a conversation. Immediately, I noticed Mu’s restlessness and anxiety, reflected in his even worse than usual constant fidgeting and repeated frustrated grunts of “aaa”s and “eee”s. I was helping Mu through his routine (take off the coat, store lunch in the refrigerator, hang coat and bag in the closet, etc…) when April stormed back in. She stumped into the kitchen, took out Mu’s lunch, and asked me angrily to smell his food and tell her whether I thought it edible. Without expecting an answer, she ranted about Mu’s mother’s criticism that the center was causing Mu to gain weight, a criticism rendered hypocritical considering the size and unhealthy quality of Mu’s packed lunch. My eyes widened when April made a fatal mistake, telling me she thought Mu was too fat and should be put on a diet. Why my nervous astonishment? Mu was standing in the corner, hearing everything. I am not sure whether Mu understood the angered April’s words or not. But I do remember an advice, and personally believe, nothing bad should ever be said about the children in front of them. It is impossible to not whether they are following the contents of the conversation, and there are no reasons to take any risks.

           My impressions were Mu’s behavior worsened following April’s comments on his weight, especially towards her. He would look at me, and smile at me, when I addressed him or gave him instructions. He was more disposed (though still highly uncooperative) to listen to my directions, returning to his seat or standing up when I asked him. But to April, he would seethe like an enraged beast and glare at her every word. April apprehended violence, and confided she remembered Mu’s behavior the same as the time when he had hit her in the past. Her prediction turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy. Ten minutes after work began, Mu scratched April’s neck, leaving burning red marks of his fingernails.

           It was the first time I saw, directly in person, a teacher at Centro “2 de abril” scold a student. (I had heard the director shout at Fr for becoming violent and openly challenging her authority, and kick him out of the room when he threw and broke all the class materials and toys. But I had only heard the sounds coming from a distance.) And April’s anger was not made out. On the contrary, she was genuinely infuriated and hurt, and she did not investigate much effort in hiding her feelings. I was too shocked to react, and had trouble in facing Mu afterwards. But I would not have made much of a difference. April’s hardness and harshness lashed at Mu, for she was determined to make him repent. After all, we cannot afford to reinforce his behavior, and he must comprehend clearly his behavior today was unacceptable. I secretly fear I will be victim of a similar outburst before the end of my internship, because the students are all acquainted to me now and throw their fits now and then, for one reason or another.

           Fe ran into transportation difficulties today as well, and did not come (gratefully for me and April). Instead, we received a hyped-up Ta. Maybe the bad weather, the tempest winds, fueled the children’s agitation and edginess. I found them unusually assertive and disobedient, and I remember I had noted a similar trend on other chaotic-weather days. Ta refused to work. He always distracted himself somehow, stood up for the most minor details, did not follow directions at all and began to whine for the slightest inconvenience. Even rewards, such as pretzels and his favourite toy Igor, did not do the trick in convincing him to follow directions. My goodness! If it were not for my resolve to keep my calm and composure to guard April’s ticked mood, I would maybe have lost my temper as well.

           Oh my goodness! Three hours only, but so many accidents! As if he wanted to further anger April, Mu even had two toilet accidents. The first was a sign of protest when April sent him out in the backyard for a while, to take some fresh air and de-energize himself at least a little. Mu hates going outside, especially when ordered to play with a ball. He decided to demonstrate his distaste by offering a generous puddle in the grass. The second accident was more catastrophic. April and I were working with Ta. Mu had been misbehaving to catch our attention already, standing up and stampeding around the room. April and I must have been successful in ignoring him for him to push the limits. Mu had run off in the backyard (oh why did he learn to unlock the inside clasp of the front door) when April screamed of disgust and indignation. I dashed to see the cause of her reaction and gaped at the sight of an overflowing puddle on the sofa, dripping on the carpet floor. Though I felt sorry for abandoning April, I was greatly thankful my workday ended at noon. There are crazy days sometimes, but I would rather never have such a day again. I was more than happy and relieved to come home!

Day 9

           Every day announces a new adventure. I am amazed by the variety of feats I find myself accomplishing. And the acknowledgements, praise, I receive further empower me in becoming better and gaining confidence in my performance at work. Indeed, all the therapists encouraged me, assuring that they see me more poised around the child, and commented on my quick grasp on the activities and the children’s individual quirks and characters.

           Decidedly, Mu will continue having the worst attendance during the term of my internship. Not only he comes in late in the morning (forty minutes today), he also misses his afternoon sessions. Well, no, I’m making him sound worse than he actually is. It is not his fault his mother has a busier schedule lately, and can have trouble in bringing him in. Nonetheless, whatever the cause, his absences affect his progress. I suspect Mu is not sleeping well these nights, because he comes to the center with zero motivation. He barely cooperates or follows directions, preferring to roll on the floor and tense to make it more difficult to lift him up. How many times did I almost fall on my face while attempting to make him stand up and return to his seat? Innumerably many times. Even when I put my most severe voice, Mu does not really bother to listen to me; at the same time, he realized I cannot win him in brute strength. I find consolation when I manage to keep him seated and prevent him from sliding off the chair or running off to an errand to the refrigerator. I tried in vain, and I cannot do better than that. Ana and I did manage to fill in some of Mu’s exercises for his register, as Fe did not come today. (By the by, Pati defined Fe’s disorder to me yesterday: Fe lacks a corpus callosum, the portion of the brain that connects the left and right hemispheres of the brain. Therefore, Fe has a lot of trouble in coordinating movements, and his therapy is more physical than anything. Fe even has trouble in focusing his eyesight, his eyes wandering independently from left and right.) You might be wandering what I mean by register. Each student has an individualized registro in which are indicated several, specific exercises, depending on his level and weaknesses. All the students basically share similar exercises that vary depending on the advancement level. The exercises are, in general, repeated ten times, following the idea that multiple trials eliminate erroneous responses. The therapists record the child’s progress by notating whether the student: (+) did the exercise alone; (AP – ayuda parcial) did the exercise with some help, in the form of a verbal instruction; (AM – ayuda masiva) required the teacher to hold and guide his hand, showing him how the exercise is to be done; or (-) could not do the exercise, did not know what to do. Mu may take time to fulfill the requirements, but his performance is affected not from ignorance but from inattention and lack of motivation. I mean, please, he does not even bother to look at the objects or us teachers, yet to open his eyes.

           After struggling with Mu, who left on his schoolbus, Ana and I had a brief five minutes of freedom until Ta arrived. From a couple of days of observation, I came to the conclusion Ta should definitely not work with Ana: He is too busy staring at her and asking for kisses. Ana agreed with me, especially after she saw the considerably more work Ta did when she left the room and under my guidance. Example? Ta did not slide one bead through the thread for seven minutes with Ana, while he finished placing in all ten by himself in eight minutes with me. It’s cute to watch Ta around Ana, although it would have been saccharine if Ta were twenty-five years older. But enough is enough, and Ta reached the limit of acceptability. Time to work is not time to be excessively sweet. I manage to push him away better (when he approaches me, the substitute, after being rejected too much), but then again he is more persistent with Ana.

           Ana and I felt very hungry by noon. Nonetheless, lunchtime was delayed by an unexpectedly arrival: Si. How hyper Si was today! Ana did dismiss me though, forcedly sending me to eat; she hates to “starve” me. I hurriedly heated my food, and began my lunch errands, marching back and forth, digesting as well as possible. In a blink, my food containers were emptied, and I focused on the children. Jo and Br had arrived as well, and they added to the weight. Br’s singing is still ringing in my head, and my fingers still feel the pressure of his grip. Jo? I think he transmitted me many antibodies, thanks to the coughs and sneezes he directed to me (almost worse than Sang, I say). And meanwhile, Si decided to become Spiderman today, and to climb atop the shelves. He came down alone when I asked him; he listens to me so well since yesterday! But disaster almost struck, and oh my goodness I am so grateful I followed my intuition! After I came back from the kitchen, I found Si gripped to the shelf. For some reason, my impulse was to grab him by the waist. If I had not done so, Si would have fallen backwards to the floor. My butt and right leg hurt, but potential severe injuries were avoided. Also, Si must have felt shocked as well, because he did not climb on top of the shelves again, after landing protected in my arms. Lori and the director congratulated me for overcoming Si’s caprices, particularly when they saw him gathering the caja de formas he dropped on the floor upon my instruction. Si is one of the wildest, and his obedience to me reflects his affection for me. Today again, he led me by the hand gently, making me sit with him in his favourite corner, where he secluded us from others by enwrapping us in the curtain. His only slip was when I left his side to help Lori with To, our little troublemaker who relishes in throwing objects on the floor… and pulling his pants down to garner attention.

           To just loves to receive the look of surprise and exclamations of protest. He purposely drops objects on the floor to look at me with a big wide smile, wondering with high expectations what my reaction will be. It is as if he is challenging me, “And now? What are you going to do now?”. Una cara de cumpleaños, that's what he turns to me. I confess, it is difficult for me to hold back my impulses, to abstain from cleaning up the mess he makes, or to not turn away from his naked lowerbody. But I am becoming considerably (scarily) better at ignoring him, not giving him satisfaction. In fact, I am growing immune to a number of things, I am not absolutely certain whether it is good or bad. Oh well. I need my defense and survival mechanism at the center. Apart from those “minor” details, To was adorable. The therapists “aww”ed when To presented his cheek for a kiss, when he looked at me with his big brown puppy eyes as he was playing properly with the toys I gave him. (Josefina and I chose a selection of toys, specially designed for To. He has three boxes in his disposition: one with pencils, one with wooden pieces, one with alphabet-letters magnets. To is to play with one box at a time, the one he chooses when the teacher gives him the option. And he is to order all the pieces back in the box before he can ask for another box.) To improved a considerable lot, and abstains himself much better from throwing things to the ground. But endurance is not his area of strength, and after two hours of work, he became increasingly restless and fidgety and rebellious. He left his mark half an hour before he left, spilling over a drawer and Jo’s cup filled with juice.

           By 16h00, I was drained by To. To is the best trainer for sharpening my reflexes, and my energy was absorbed by constant attention and standing-up-and-sitting-down routines. Josefina asked me and Lori (she was in charge of To for today) to try to prevent any of To’s accident from happening, to reward his good behavior with a trip to the zoo. Despite my best efforts, he could not go to his always-asked-for zoo (I should have held To’s other hand when Lori was struggling with him and Si on either side).

           Drama happens everywhere, I swear. I am not spared of drama by escaping from high school, and this was made clearer. Ana, Lori and I were leading a group session with Si, Ta, Jo and Al. Of course, Ta was entranced by Ana, and he did not stop rising from his chair to twirl one of her curls or touch her face. Lori and I could not suppress our laughter; it is very comic to see Ta so lovey-dovey with Ana. We ended up turning away or hiding our faces in our arms to not laugh out loud while Ana was trying to sound as severe and firm as she possibly could. Ana wasn’t the only one in the middle of such a situation though. I was enthusiastically praising each student for their good work, but when I congratulated Al and high-fived him (he always asks me to high-five him since yesterday’s puzzle) Jo glared and began to misbehave. He began shouting, and booing, and even gave the middle finger to everyone. Ana told him to leave the classroom, but he stayed inside, beating the floor with fists and feet. His fit passed, but it also changed my perspective of him a lot. Jo always tried to help me with anything he did, and he was always disposed to give a hand to any teacher. But that slip just ruined the image of the helpful and nice student.

I thought teases and jokes about love ended with teenage. The therapists at Centro “2 de abril” prove my hypothesis wrong. They do not say it openly, but they imply of a “love triangle” I am stuck in with Al and Jo at its corner. They don’t try to make it awkward for me, but they are evidently amused by the new dynamic among the elder students due to my temporary stay. I have the feeling I am disrupting their daily lives in a different way from the others, mostly because of their age. Whereas the others run the risk of becoming spoiled under my affection, these two run the risk of an emotional rollercoaster. Al is a giant teddy bear, and as innocent as a lamb. He constantly giggles when he is around me, and the teachers were amused by his obvious shyness and embarrassment around me. On the other hand, Jo is more violent and irritable, and he is very annoyed when I am with someone else, especially Al.
Something else that I am realizing, and hate to admit, is that I am beginning to have my own preferences among the children and teenagers. I have more fun with one, or a more pleasant time with another. I repress a slight reluctance at watching one, or hold back from recoiling while cleaning another. I sense the other teachers have their personal preferences as well. But the signs that reveal their tastes are subtle, and catch my eye only subliminally. I hope I do not show any obvious signs. In truth, I hope my personal taste stops to grow and spread once and for all. However, I know the latter wish is unrealistic, since I am a human who has emotions and expressions. And the best I can do is compose myself and do not let myself slip.

From running after To, catching Si from falling, balancing between two teenage boys, among all other things, my spelling and grammar mistakes are worsening (thank goodness I have the “backspace” key). Good night, and yay for another day!

Day 8

           I was happily munching on my lunch as I waited for Josefina, relaxing under the warm rays of the sun, when suddenly an anxiously hurried Josefina appeared in front of me. “Hola Se Jeong. Cancele la sesion de terapia con Bosito hoy. Vamos directamente al centro.” Those were her exact words, and I scurried behind her, my heart increasing thumping from the urge in her voice, the queerness of the situation. What had happened that made her so nervous, caused her to cancel a session with the little sweetheart Bo?

           What a way to begin a workday! As Josefina drove in a forcedly calm manner, she explained the cause of the tumult. Half an hour ago, when she finally excused herself from the kindergartners’ needs to answer the chain of calls Pati was making, Josefina was shocked to hear that Pati was locked outside the house, with Mu left all alone inside. This morning, when Ta arrived, Pati had run out to open the gate. Mu must have mischievously locked the door from inside. Thus, though Pati had taken her keys, she could not enter the house. And Mu, who is one of the students who knows how the indoor lock works, could not manage to open the door for Pati, though he tried. His sudden loss of capability must have most likely been due to a state of nervousness. The teachers and I deduced Mu wanted to open the door, let Pati and Ta in the house, because he cooperated when Pati gave directions such as, “Mu, try to slide the lock open, my love,” and he also “desperately” reached out to Pati when she extended her hand to Mu from the window. I did my best to soothe the director, reassuring her worst worries and affirming the best outcomes in the scenario. By the time the director and I reached the center, Mu had been locked in for forty-five minutes. Thankfully, Pati had locked the door opening to the back of the house; this meant Mu did not escape from Pati’s constant attention and watch. If anything happened to him, Pati would see it, and help could be called for immediately (although the help would not reach Mu until the door was forced open). It took ten additional minutes for the man to break the key lock and allow us to comfort a much shaken and scared Mu. The poor child was so dazed he hardly touched his lunch. Believe me, for Mu to reject his food, he was extremely upset and shocked.

           All the therapists agreed I have seen all the possible worst scenarios, situations even they had never experienced before. It was as if good fortune had turned away from the center, they say, and that I was the only luck time had brought to them this month. They claim they are genuinely thankful and glad that my internship fell at this time, because they really needed another pair of hands, legs, head, and eyes. As for me… As I noted last time, I feel as if I am receiving training and learning so much in so many different aspects. I already do chores in my home such as washing dishes and taking out the trash. But I had never raked leaves, and it has been a while since I last swept the floor with a broom (I use the vacuum cleaner at home). I had also never personally cleaned pee, and I feel that my turn to change diapers might arrive soon.

           Br’s depression was even worse than yesterday. He lost all his appetite, does not feel joy in purposely running around and out of the house, and sings melancholic songs with lyrics such as “No me dejes solo ahi.” He only accepted to eat to his pasta when I spoonfed him. But I am taking a lot of care to not spoil him, to not overdose him with abundant attentive affection. The point really struck me when I was feeding him today. I always check, asking him whether he wants more food or does not feel hungry anymore. Nonetheless, he would keep accepting to eat when I presented the fork stuffed with pasta, even as I noted the slowed pace of his chewing. I stopped giving him food when the demotivated chewing persisted. People eat that way only when they do not feel like eating, when they feel as if the food they are swallowing is choking them. I suspected Br continued eating unprotestingly because he enjoyed hogging the care I was giving him. I understand he needs the love and care, and all the signs of affection and support he can receive. However, I also think he should not abuse of other people’s kindness. Br does not need me to stay within every single second of his time at the center, especially when there are seven other children who may need my help more urgently.

           You know what I realized? It has been a tremendously long time ago since I last completed a puzzle. I had escaped from Br’s grip (with the director’s help) when Al popped up in front of me. I was confused when I first saw him hand me a Winnie the Pooh puzzle, but then I understood he wanted me to play with him. Forty pieces are not that difficult to figure out. But to guide someone to put the pieces of a puzzle together is not the easiest task ever. I didn’t really know how to help without ending up placing all the puzzle pieces by myself. Despite my best intentions, I confess I probably finished the puzzle, though I have to credit myself for having successfully aided Al in placing a fifth of the pieces alone. So ha! I didn’t fail quite completely. As I high-fived Al and applauded him enthusiastically for ordering the puzzle back in place, I realized how much the students appreciate tactile signs of affection. They really like the teachers to congratulate them with hugs and kisses and high-fives. They also love auditory stimuli, such as songs and cheers. Auditory… Oh! That reminds me. Did I tell you how bright Si is with songs? He has a great sense of rhythm, and manages to hum the tunes he hears almost at first hear. It sort of impresses me, because he has a good sense of pitch as well. Hm, who knows, maybe he has a Savant syndrome, with a talent and extraordinary ability for music.

           Today, for P.E. time, the teachers and I set up a circuito de gimnasia for the children. It consisted of a slightly serpentine path (to train balancing), a cave-like tunnel (to bend down on four feet to pass through), and a mini trampoline. I did not participate in the course; only the students performed the sequence of obstacles. Nevertheless, I think I can safely state that I have had an ample share of sports and workout this last week and past few days. Running around the house, training my reflexes, helping/forcing children to stand up by lifting them up, sweeping the floor, and all the rest and anything new that may arise… No, I promise, I have had a good share and catching up of any sport I may have lost.

           Oh! Oh! Guess what? I tamed the ones who were violent to me! (Except for Mu, who thrashes me to the side as a hammerthrow player does unintentionally, because he is not aware of his strength.) Fe did not pull my hair once, nor did he throw a fit at me because he wanted to watch “Barney” (I am beginning to seriously loathe that program). He asks me silently and in a civilized manner, by pointing at the television or bringing me the pictogram “Quiero mirar TV.” Even Si put aside his wildness for a while at the end of the day. Si became excessively jealous during our time in the backyard, because I was mostly either with Br, who twisted my fingers as he gripped my hand, or with Mu, whom I was continually hauling off the floor where he lay posing as a model. He came towards me, held my hand, and led me away in a remote corner. There, he plopped down and simply played with my hands, clasping them with his tiny fingers, humming and occasionally looking at me straight in the eyes. I was surprised, very surprised, and later pleased. Si used to be very capricious with me, and maybe he will return to his usual violent mode tomorrow. But at least once, today, he was an angel and asked me for my care and affection in an appropriate and proper manner. Instead of beating and kicking (he had done it earlier today, during lunch), he took my hand and engaged in a peaceful pastime. I was touched, really, to have seen this side of Si at least once. He even kissed me (or I think it was a kiss, because he put his lips against my cheek), a tenderness he does not show often. One thing did bother me though. When his mother arrived, he refused to listen to her, neither giving her a kiss nor a look nor anything acknowledging her; instead, he rummaged through the plastic bag she was holding, scavenging for food (or so she claims).

           It amazes me how the children resume their spoiled and bad behavior when they are around their parents. The parents unintentionally fuel the undesired behavior. As parents, they have trouble saying “no,” seeing their children upset, and they give in to the children’s desires by paying for the consequences. It hurts me to see this happen. But I know it applies not only to children with autism, but with people in general. As people, we tend to abuse of the things that we take for granted, or that are given to us when we ask for them. I don’t mean to sound negative. But I am putting a realistic perspective on life. An overly quantity of anything is unhealthy, not for the best, and the principle accounts from strictness to kindness.

Day 7

And in for my second week! Yay!

Where to begin? Even though there were less children than there were supposed to come, the classes were as difficult to handle, if not harder. Why? Let's say there are some complications at home for nearly all the children, and those who have no problems at home are affected by their peers' restlessness.
As yet, I have never seen Mu arrive early to his morning 1:1 class. He came twenty-seven minutes late, which was an improvement from Thursday's forty minutes. Mu is definitely not a morning person, and he is an even stronger hater of Monday mornings. The only time he was enthusiastic was during his breakfast time. Although he was given to eat, he became grumpier and grumpier, because we had run low of supplies of cookies, giving him toast with butter instead, and offered him only a half-cup of milk, because we ran out of milk as well. Oh! That reminds me. Did I ever describe how Mu asks for his breakfast? I believe I had already explained the use of pictographs; this is exactly the means of communication Mu has to employ to ask for his breakfast. The teacher presents him a board on which are placed the pictographs for food (in today's case: toast) and for milk. Mu is expected to hand the teacher the pictograph indicating what he wants to receive next, whether a gulp of milk or a morsel of food. How can the teacher tell whether the communication was successful or not? From the student's expression and reaction to what he is given. I have seen the pictographs in play with Mu, and Si, and To, and a couple of other children. And it makes me proud to see how effectively the children are able to communicate, at least when they are asking for food. Hm, after all, maybe food is the strongest motivation device.
After his breakfast, Mu was grumpier from his disappointment from his dissatisfaction. He would not open his eyes, and refuse to look at April or me when we gave him instructions. At any given opportunity, at any time April or I reached out for another work material, or did not look at him, Mu would slide off his stool and roll on the floor. April was very frustrated, because Mu was to leave at 10h30 for school. With his belated arrival and sluggishness, hardly any advancements could be made. Furthermore, Fe always came early lately.
Fe's caprices have worsened during the past days. The problem with Fe is the chaos at home. His mother and stepfather is currently moving, and Fe is therefore making constant back-and-forths from his mother's house and his biological father's house. The instability disrupts Fe very much, especially his sleep, and the child is not a happy camper, not in the least. Today as well, Fe had his TV mania attack, and he ended up beating and kicking the floor, and squeaking endlessly. Thank goodness Ta came! Fe loves to watch Ta, always following him with his eyes. Once Ta came in, Fe was calmed and lulled into a sleepy trance reflecting his sleepless night.
Ta can be so sweet, even though he is not cooperative at all when he works. He gets distracted and frustrated very easily, and is upset after a maximum of four trials to complete the given task. The problem with Ta is that his irritation always makes him seek comfort and caresses. And when Ana is not here, I am the substitute. While I struggle to keep Fe awake and doing his work, I have a constant tug at my head and arm as Ta asks for a kiss or hug, or gives me cheek a silent kiss. Ah! What am I supposed to do?
The morning flew by, and soon, it was time for lunch. Lunch time is one of the most chaotic periods of the day. I would almost rather be leading a lunch meeting. The therapists always send me to eat my lunch at 12 sharp, during which I can have five minutes at most of peaceful eating time. I used to gulp down my lunch, but the gulping down didn't help and was rather worse. I decided to eat slowly, chewing and taking my time. Because no matter at what speed I eat, I end up running here and there to help this child hold his fork/spoon properly, or opening the door, or greeting a parent and the son, or heating up a newcomer's lunch, or running to the living room to check on the children watching television, or jumping up at a sudden shriek or scream, or sparing the teachers from a toilet accident by rushing a suspicious child to the bathroom. Yes, as you may consider yourself, lunch is not the most relaxing period of my day. But it is one of the eventful (fun?) somehow.
Br was in a worryingly depressed state today. He had experienced two or three days of a euphoria, manic stage, which left him in a severe depressed mood. He seemed so unstable, so internally shaken! He would not let go of my hand, and kept calling me and all the teachers his mother's name and asking to go home. He held my hand, gripping and twisting my fingers in a nervous manner. I kept trying to appease him, kissing him and cuddling him and comforting him, reassuring him he will be back home shortly. But Br is not an idiot, he knew how to read the time indicated by the clock. He did allow me to soothe him, however, and left the other teachers free to look after the other students rather than hogging all the attention for himself.
Si is exhibiting dangerously frequent episodes of self-harm. He is extremely unstable and has even more drastic bipolar mood shifts. He eats nothing, refuses all food including cookies and chips he enjoyed. I'm scared I am spoiling him, though unintentionally. He yearns for my attention, confirmed all the teachers. And he throws fit when I stay with someone else for "too long." He actually comes to look for me, leading me away and into a corner with only him by grabbing my hand. Today as well, he ended up lying on my stomach to keep me all alone, for himself. Lori had to come lift him off in order to save me from his hold.
Guess what we did today? Mondays are baking days, and today we bakes scones! Well, Ana's recipe for scones reminded me more of pao de queijo, but they were still delicious! Lori and I were sneaking into the kitchen to steal some, hidden from the children's eyes. Ana was pleased, and she chuckled constantly - her chuckling did make Fe really angry in the end, who wrongly thought she was laughing at him. You know, Fe always laughs at his peers who angrily protest and whine when forced to do activities they do not want. It seemed ironic to me, therefore, that he was so upset when he thought Ana laughed at him when he was protesting and whining at the end of television time.
To improved a lot lately! But he still relapses into his throwing things on the ground sometimes, especially when he wants to be at the spotlight of attention. I am growing immune to his compulsion, however, because paying attention is a reward that reinforces To's behaviour. It's challenging for me to be with To, because we are in the "breaking-the-rebellion" phase and have to act extra firm with him. It's challenging for me to be tougher and colder. To's talent in tearing up only increases the difficulty level. That little boy is training me in my impulses as well. I am the quickest teacher, and therefore am always the one who is running after him to prevent him reaching rooms with tons of things at hand's reach he can throw to the floor. My reflexes are ameliorating, so much, I might end up being able to catch a fly with a flick of my hand.
Oh, I'm worried about Fr. He has entered puberty, and became the most aggressive and rebellious troublemaker. As a growing teenager, he is also becoming increasingly strong. He is impossible to control. The director shared her concerns she fears that she might have to expel him from Centro "2 de abril". I hope this won't happen. Fr does love the center a lot, I can feel it. And he has a high intellectual level for an autistic child. As long as he does not have another violent outburst, he won't be dismissed. Please, do calm down, Fr. Please calm down.
I think that is pretty much it. I think I'm starting to acquire a cold, and should probably be in bed by this time. But if I don't record the day's events daily, I will lose track and will have too much catching up to do. I kept my promise to myself, and I am off to sleep now.

Day 6

Saturday, May 24th, 2014

I can hardly believe it. It's been one week since I began my internship! So many things happened, and I feel as if my last day at UAS was ages ago. But the calendar does not lie, and I know that it has only been one week since the many fresh memories have taken place. 

Mhm, I do work on Saturdays as well, from 9h30 to 12. But my Saturday jobs are easy. I only have to take care of one child at a time, first with Jm and then with Cs. While the director works on "academics" with one, I work on social learning with the other sibling. It is not difficult, especially if the children remain as well-behaved as they were today. There really isn't much to write, for the two hours and a half I spent on Saturday were not very active nor eventful. But I feel that I should still record something, for the sake of keeping daily entries of my internship.

During the first half hour, I talked with Josefina. Our conversation was mostly based on my thoughts, emotions and concerns, anything that may have arisen during the first week. Then, she would also tell me different anecdotes, to cheer me up or distract me when she deemed it necessary. I think I should consider writing a book on "How to Take Care of Children," because I learn many advice on the subject. For example, I know how to clean the mess on a carpet when a child could not hold it to the bathroom. First, pour baking soda over the puddle, because baking soda absorbs the pee and prevents the carpet from acquiring a stain. Second, spray liquid or vinegar, because the acidic content of these liquids minimize the odor that might emanate the next morning from any persistent pee. Of course, the most important part when there is a peeing accident is to clean it immediately. The longer it is left on the carpet, the more difficult it is to expect a nice smell in the room the next day, most naturally. Oh, believe me, all the things I learn from my internship are much more varied and from a broader range of topics than at school.
Jm and Cs came pretty much on time. I was surprised I could see a striking difference between the siblings and the other children I met earlier this week, differences I had not noticed upon my first encounter with the siblings a week earlier. Jm and Cs are much more connected with the world, though their obliviousness to their surrounding is much more evident when such is the case. Jm and Cs are able to engage in verbal communication. Cs is capable of answering my questions, or to hold a short conversation before she wanders off as her eye catches a detail that captivates her attention. I played dress-up with her, and I clearly remember her answering me clearly, "El celeste," when I asked her which lipstick she wanted me to apply on her. Jm is not as coherent or intelligible, because half of his language is composed of babbling or repeats of my directions. Nonetheless, I can sense he understands and hears me. Why? When I asked him to stop manipulating the DVD player recklessly and carelessly (FW and RW every two minutes), he repeated, "No lo toques asi," and stared at me, and did not resume the FW-RW reaction chain for ten minutes or so. By the way, the therapists were really happy when they saw the children staring or looking at me, because these signs demonstrated my ability to catch their attention, though fleetingly. It also showed that I could trespass the thresholds of the children's worlds, and was able to establish a connection with them.
Although it was rewarding to listen to them respond to me, it also gave me equal frustration when they did not answer me. I knew (or hoped) they were not doing it of bad intentions. But imagine having someone not answer you back, especially when you are the only two participants in the dialogue? Well, it's okay. I am getting used to being ignored, though I am not entirely sure whether this is a good habit for me in the future. But one thing is sure: By the end of the three weeks of my internship, I will have grown a tolerance and patience for people that is even greater than the levels I had previously. Mm yes, that is indeed possible.

Day 5

Note: This post is relating the happenings of yesterday. I took the freedom of delaying the uploading of this post, because I wanted to take time to review it. I confess having written it in a state of slight-lightheadedness, and I did not want this to impede anything I wrote.

Friday, May 23rd, 2014

Possibly, people have been expecting a post similar to mine today from me at some point in time. If such were the case, then you would be satisfied to hear about me relate the occurrences of today. I have gone through the wildest and most uncontrollable day yet so far today. I think I have been assaulted by each and all of the students, who displayed different and new whims. Maybe it was the weather, the terrible stormy weather, that stormed their impulses and aggressiveness. Maybe it was the windy night yesterday, which might have bothered their sleep and turned them more anxious, grumpier and less willing to work. Whatever the reason, it caused me much trouble and nervousness as well. It is not as if I am badly injured. Some hurt more than others, but none are Superman. No, what I was the most worried about and scared of was my own reaction. At any potential danger or attack, my first and immediate impulse is to push the source of discomfort or fear away. I feared my reflexive reaction might hurt the children, though unintentionally, or, even worse, destroy any bit of trust I might have fostered in them in my regard.

It began with Fe. As soon as he arrived at the institution, he went to the television and began rocking back and forth on his feet, expecting somebody to turn on “Barney” for him. Ana and I were working with Mu, and we therefore ignored Fe’s demand, asking him to take a seat on the mini sofa and wait patiently for his turn. Fe did not listen to us and persevered in his stand in front of the sofa, as he often does. When he started growing more restless and louder, Ana and I agreed by a mute glance at each other that I would quiet him down and accompany him to the sofa, where we would play with a toy. I walked towards Fe, and extended my hand to him. “Veni, Fe. Nos sentamos y jugamos. Te parece?” As he usually does, Fe objected; he walked with me towards the sofa, thinking I was asking him to sit down to watch the television (we try to teach the children to sit down to watch the television – the polite and “proper” way), and when he realized such was not my motive he would walk back to the television or snatch a random pictogram to communicate his yearn for television time. I should have foretold from Fe’s unusual perseverance that something was coming, but I didn’t. Five minutes later, after numerous backs-and-forths, Fe lost his control and grabbed at two strands of my hair, and pulled with all his might and strength. I was so taken by surprise! I don’t know how I managed to not push him back immediately, grabbed at the hands that were attacking me! Maybe it was indeed the surprise that stopped any action or word to cross my mind. What did I do, then? I stood up, and my height forced Fe to let go of his grip. Was it me, or did a look of surprise momentarily pass Fe’s face? Anyway, it took me a second to recover and saying firmly, “Fe, no. No se hace eso a la gente. Vuelva a tu asiento, inmediatamente. Ya.” Fe returned to his seat effectively, and stayed quiet. But the peace was too short. A few minutes later, he picked up from where he left off, and even began going to Ana, who is the softest of the teachers (apart from me, possibly). He began hitting Ana, who was busy with keeping Mu sitting (he was continuing to slide off the stool) and working. In the attempt to help her from Fe’s increasing hits, I left Mu’s side and kneeled down in front of Fe. Fe stared at the space behind me before he turned his TV-wrath on me. I tried to ignore him, I really did, because any action that transpierces me might reinforce his behavior, act as a sign of his triumph, might impede and blur my future relationship with him. Ana tried to stop him as well, but a foot of Mu’s stool landed on hers and caused a pain that did not release her even as I left the center at the end of the day. In the end, after much twisting away and ignoring, Fe backed down and resumed sitting on the sofa with a blank stare outside the sliding window. As I calmed myself and recovered my slowed pulse and breath, I tried to control my emotions, to not lose my temper on Mu, who was even less attentive to directions than usual. I don’t know how I managed to pass through the morning with my tolerance at such a tense state.

I would like to say the afternoon passed by without a similar episode, but that would be a lie. Many other students acted in a violent and whiny way. Most notable was Si. Si slid even more drastically from manic to calm state. He would be happily holding my hand happily while bouncing on the therapeutic ball one moment; then, suddenly, a shadow would submerge his face and he would enter a stormy mood in which he would shout and roll and kick. Whereas his blows landed on the floor most of the time, some today reached my arms, chest and face; my nose still hurts from the headbutt I received, and my left cheek is sensible even to a light touch. Si, who can turn into an adorable angel, became a devil in his moments of wildness. My only comfort is that I did not have to deal with Fr. Josefina and the other therapists take extreme care in not exposing me to Fr when he enters his bursts of uncontrollable temper and aggressive rebellion; I did have a glimpse, however, when he shoved me aside against the wall to storm outside in the garden.

Oh, I cannot end my post on such a negative note, because I did have a pleasant time as well. I would not let my struggles to defend myself overshadow my laughs with the children. Besides, I already forgave all of them. Most repent, and most have their moments of caprices because of one reason or another, whether overdose or lack of medication, or even a sleepless evening. Nevertheless, I’d like to spend some time expanding on nice moments as well, moments that make me chuckle and hopefully bring back a smile on you readers’ lips.

My morning was alleviated somewhat, and aggravated my stress on the other, when Ta arrived. As you might recall, Ta’s arrival worsens Mu’s sluggishness, as he becomes jealous of further sharing the teachers’ attention and care with one more student. But Ta is a sweetheart, especially once he overcomes his shy embarrassment and strangers’ fear. It makes me feel all warm inside when Ta comes to me as well to receive kisses and hugs, because Ta is one of the most reserved and distant of the children. That he includes me as a source of comfort truly warms my heart (no one will ever rival Ana, who is his favourite, but I am the only person he appreciates apart from her and his family). Basically, my struggle with Ta was to ask him to follow directions, because he was too busy walking back and forth from Ana to me, wandering and collecting hugs and kisses under the unhappy eyes of Mu who would roll on the floor discontentedly. What a paradoxical situation, really! Fighting Ta to stop him from asking for love.

           My afternoon was frozen, literally. I’m surprised I did not end up an ice cube. I spent two hours and a half outside. How? The highlight activity of the day was visiting the zoo. Before we went to the zoo, though, students and teachers gathered the leaves fallen from the autumn trees in the terrace. I don’t think I’ve amassed that many leaves in a while! Swipe, stoop down, collect, throw away. And start again! For forty-five minutes. I just had time to escape into the house, rubbing my heads against one another as I leaned close to the electric heater, when I heard Br’s excited “Tadam! Vamos al zoologico!” I cringed as I blamed myself for not bringing a coat; I had the brilliant idea of contending myself with a cotton knit and the sweater the teachers gave me as a welcome present with the logo “2 de abril” (their kind attention touched me so much!). Although the director gave me the option to choose between staying behind and accompanying the expedition, I unhesitatingly chose the latter, knowing the teachers would need all the help they can to control the bunch of children. Thus the director stayed behind with To and Fr while Br, Jo, Si and Mu took a stroll at the zoo.

           It was heartrending to leave To behind, even though it was for a good cause. Why do I say this? The expedition to the zoo was planned for To. Initially a reward, it became a punishment later when he misbehaved. The director had asked my opinion (I know, I feel so special!) on whether I thought the zoo might work as a good reinforcement to encourage To to behave properly, and I had replied “yes.” The original plan was to reward To for his following directions and not throwing anything on the floor. But following his leaks and swiping the pen holder and his work materials on the floor, we had to abstain him from going to his strongly desired zoo. When I saw the tears mounting in his eyes as he watched us leave without him, I had to quickly turn my head away to avoid weakening. Oh! I do hope that next week, To will earn his trip to the zoo! I do hope that he understands he is capable of earning trust and his rewards when he puts in the effort. I have to say his progress gives me hope. Hope that I will be present when he has his first trip to the zoo with the crew of Centro “2 de abril.”

           I’m surprised Ana, Lori and I were not arrested while we were at the zoo. The children were so loud and wild! Well, at the same time, the zookeepers and guards all know we are from the institution, as the children and teachers are among the most frequent and periodic visitors. And we were the only crazy people to venture out of the coziness and warmth of the house to saunter in the zoo. Therefore, there was no one who could file a complaint against us. But here, let me give you a glimpse: Jo stampeded around, flapping his arms and quacking to scare the animals enclosed behind the gates; Si dashed from one cage to another, dancing and screaming at 70 decibels, pouting and fidgeting his lips with his fingers; Mu climbed on top of random benches, lying down in a model pose, deciding to take a nap with his pants falling halfway down his butt; and Br was a walking fanfare, with his theme line “Tadam! Quiero hacer pipi o algo asi,” causing shocked or anxious glances from passersby who hurriedly scurried away from us (who, I admit, were desperately trying to suppress laughing to tears). How would you have felt if you had perceived us in the zoo or street? I won’t judge your reaction, whatever it might have been.

           As you might assess, my day was not all storms and hits. I had a pleasant time, and it made me think even more about the nature of communication and human behavior. It made me ponder even more on my own attitude and actions. I’m still scared, and I do hope I reacted appropriately: not too tough to scare the children and stop them from approaching me again, yet not too soft to breed the space for more and worse episodes of caprices. Well, I did do my best. I cannot be good at everything from the beginning. I just have to work to make myself better, and think on the areas I have to make improvements.

Day 4

Each day is filled with new insights and experiences. I have so much to learn and understand! Many seem to forget I am a mere seventeen, no, eighteen-year-old (ah! I am still not used to not being a minor anymore!) who has not graduated from high school just yet. Did I mention how surprised the therapists were when I revealed my identity to them during our first meetings, all characterized by a conversation on my background and history? I think they all gaped at me, and all wonder how and why I chose to work at Centro "2 de abril," a detail I won't disclose to you just yet and save for my internship presentation ;D. It is only at the end of the day, as we gather our coats and belongings to leave, that they seem to remember I am the little baby. I feel so at ease with them though! They immediately embraced me as a colleague and emanate a motherly instinct to protect me. We have the most wide-ranging conversations possible, from discussing the impairments of a particular student to laughing about an imaginary boyfriend. Well, please, have some sympathy for us. If we always only stayed on heavy topics, we would end up in a mental hospital altogether. Laughing and joking is a natural defense mechanism that helps us in surmounting difficult and morose situations without hurting anybody. Laughing is an inoffensive and pleasant distraction for the mind that is very popular among the teachers at Centro “2 de abril.”

You must be wondering why I began today’s post with a brief description on my relationship with the teachers. It is because I would like to spend these minutes to expand upon my personal beliefs and the essence of communication. As I work at the institution, I am constantly facing the theme of communication, the means to express thoughts and emotions to others. In ToK terms, to share the personal knowledge and transform it into a shared knowledge. Why am I pondering on this theme? Because it is at the core of autism.

Apart from many more specifications, the main characteristics of autism can be labeled as an impairment in cognitive processes and in the layover of sensory messages to the brain as well as a difficulty in communicating. Actually, many people believe that people diagnosed with autism live in their own world, without putting much effort to connect with the world around them. I do not think it is a fair accusation and attribute. People, whether autism or not, make consistent efforts in discovering their surrounding and bonding with the people around them.

I had a shorter day today, accompanying Ta’s and Mu’s morning 1:1 sessions with Abril from 9 in the morning to noon. I really appreciate the 1:1 sessions because they direct more focus and concentration on each student, allow more specialized attention each child deserves to receive. Furthermore, the 1:1 sessions are much more organized, and I have time to process and thoroughly think about the time I spend with each child. I was able to assess Mu’s thought process as he pointed at pictograms (milk or cookies) depending on what he wanted to have next during his breakfast; his brows creased as he observed the pictograms, his smile widened when his demand coincided with his desire, a confused look and grunt escaped him when he wanted milk instead of a cookie or vice versa. Because he was not tired today, I could tell the differences between mistakes he made from inattention, mistakes he made because he ignored the right answer, and mistakes he would make on purpose. I was able to evaluate Ta’s mood from his actions. He gestures a lot, because he does not manage to speak, and it takes a whole lot of time to decrypt his gestures and facial expressions. For example, Ta often tenses his entire body and shakes his arms stiffly; however, depending on his facial expression, the action can be interpreted as happiness, frustration, or impatience. From today’s three calmer hours, I was able to reflect more deeply on the experiences I have gone through during these first few days.

I do not claim to understand autism, nor the complex nature of communication, and most certainly do not comprehend the children completely. However, I do heed to my belief that misunderstanding and shortages in communication cannot be attributed to solely one participant of the interaction. Let me illustrate this belief with the following example. Kate, Mary and Johnny are angry at each other because they have just fought. When Milly investigated the reasons behind their fight, she realized that Kate had misunderstood Johnny and had spread mistaken information to Mary. Mary, trusting Kate, was enraged and falsely accused Johnny for a thought that was attributed to him but was not really his. Of course, Johnny, who was innocent, had denied the accusation, and the whole misunderstanding bred a big fight. From an external perspective, the scenario seems quite absurd, but isn’t it something that happens quite often? If we acknowledge this for our relation with “normal” people, we must acknowledge its occurrence with us any autistic people as well. Yes, we make attempts to understand people with autism. But people with autism do make attempts to communicate to us. The problem is that they have very different ways of thinking from us, reason in their own way which is difficult to understand and interpret. People with autism notice and recognize things differently from us, see “part of the picture” instead of the whole (ha! Gestalt theory in psychology!), and it is not right to condemn them for thinking differently when their thoughts are not wrong. We don’t hold varying thoughts against one another. So, as an open question I ask: Is it fair to refer to people with autism as lacking proper means of communication when their differences arise from the different perspective they hold?

Four days are not enough to build relationships, yet I feel like I have become much closer to the boys, at least some of them. I can now predict Mu’s bursts of jealousy and sudden escapades to the kitchen from his fidgeting, and know when to pat him on the shoulder or give him my hand for him to find comfort and be soothed partially. I adopt a softer and more tentative approach when I am around Ta, who is more inclined to listen when teachers are not forceful and assertive, who occasionally shyly turns his cheek at me to ask for a kiss instead of pushing me away to adhere to my order to return to his seat. I know when to hold my distance from Si who needs his moments of solitude, when to join his manic state, when to cuddle him and play with him, when to beware for his dramatic displays acted for pathos. I foresee Fe’s tugging at my sleeve and asking for TV time, shrieking of protest and distaste, kicking at the floor; I feel when he quietly yearns for my touch, for my finger to gently stroke his nose (he loves it) and push his hair aside from his forehead. I can tell the protests of hunger, of boredom, and of sheer disobedience (sort of, more or less). I know when to brace myself for a more challenging time convincing and coaxing for work and cooperation, when to defend myself and escape from hits and shouts and cries, when to firm and toughen my demeanor and voice to (try to) appear stricter and meaner. I know when to loosen up and tickle, laugh, tease, play, and expect a happy response back. I am not saying the children are justified, but it is understandable that they result to loud and violent actions of protest. After all, the behavior was negatively reinforced, because their parents would heed to their desires in order to eliminate the undesirable stimuli of their children’s caprices (it’s a basic in classical conditioning).

In my humble opinion, the job at Centro “2 de abril,” and any rehabilitation center or educational institution actually, is to prevent accidents and breed learning that will open future opportunities. We are not trying to punish the students for things they are doing wrong. Rather, we are trying to help them alter their behavior, reward them for what they are doing right, and reinforce proper ways of behaving. The children will be much limited in the future, because their impairments affect conventional communication processes and social learning, and do stop them from developing much learning. Nonetheless, as teachers, it is our job to help them make the best out of what they have. And isn’t the first step in any teaching to understand the topic and student first?

I have not received formal education in higher-level psychology, nor have a specialization in autism. Therefore the only utility I have is in understanding the students and attempting to connect with them, develop relations, find the way to touch and open them up to me. As I struggle past the cries and shouts and open disobedience, I find occasional cooperation and calm, and eye contact and signs of affection. Maybe I’m totally wrong, because I am trying to look at things in the positive light. But at least, in my hopes and dreams, I think I am getting better and bonding with the children, and they are becoming more receptive of me. As I try to understand their way of thinking and communicating, maybe they are trying to understand further mine. After all, communication is a two-way street. If I make the effort to go one way, the children might make efforts to come up the other.

Day 3

           People can be very susceptible to mood changes according to the weather. The common belief is very much supported by the children’s behavior today at Centro “2 de abril.” My goodness, it was crazy today! Well, truth is, it was not only the children’s fault. Because of the rain and crazy schizophrenic weather, car drivers were all frantic, and parents and siblings brought the students at varying times that suited their fancy more than the institution’s class dynamic. Today was marked by constant interruptions for reasons whatsoever, and my head is still ringing from the sound of the constantly sounding doorbell and children’s protests in the form of banging, screaming and crying.

T  Today’s 1:1 session was the most disorganized I’ve seen yet so far. Assess my opinion yourselves. Apart from waiting for Ana, who had been rendered late because of a car accident delaying buses, for fifteen minutes, I did not have to wait much for work to come to me. Today, my anticipation to work was abundantly satisfied, oh yes, believe me. As Ana finished changing her clothes among other business and I ate my fruits, a very sleepy and unmotivated Fe arrived twenty minutes before his usual time. When Ana and I settled him down (lead him to take off his coat, hang it and his bag on the hanger, sit on the mini sofa to wait calmly), Mu’s mother rang the doorbell and her son joined us. While I coaxed Mu into settling down, with the additional job of stopping him from running into the kitchen in search of something to eat, Ta was at the door. It amazes me, and all the other adults as well as a matter of fact, how much Ta loves Ana. Since the first moment he saw her, Ta has always been fascinated by Ana, pulling her face towards his and always asking her for a kiss. When we saw how much Ta adored her, how sluggishly reluctant Fe was, and how Mu was cuddling me (he is too strong, a problem because he is not aware of his tremendous physical strength; Ana and the others are worried I won’t live through the three weeks if Mu keeps showing his affection for me so…strongly), Ana and I relaxed and expected a laid-back morning, until 11h30 when students for particular classes with Josefina and another psychologist, Andy, would arrive.
Our expectations were soon crushed. We had read a book on a boy’s birthday party, to begin bringing the mood of a birthday party as it is Mu’s eleventh birthday next Tuesday. This assignment had taken extra long because Ta did not stop dragging Ana in jealousy of her spending time with him and two others, Fe pretended to fall asleep, and Mu fidgeted and tugged at my head as a sign of his love. Ana had turned on the television as a reward for the three boys, and for us to recover with a short rest, when an out-of-breath Andy rang the doorbell; her patient, Af, was coming half an hour quicker because her mother had some other matters to take care of as well. I was with Af for a short time only, but she seemed to exhibit one of the most severe aggression cases. She had a blank stare, glaring at something far away. And when people tried to touch her and persuade her to the classroom, she would violently thrush our hands aside and grunt, groan, loudly. Andy had to half-carry, half-push her into the room, from where I could hear shouts and grunts during the entire particular session.
To avoid further distractions and try to take advantage of as much time as possible, Ana decided to turn off the television much faster than usual when the children are granted television time as part of their agenda. Turning off the TV was a difficult task, mostly because it implied protests and fights against I’m-going-to-force-her-to-turn-on-the-TV-by-showing-her-the-pictogram-or-tugging-at-her-to-the-TV from all three boys, especially Fe. (I swear I cannot stand Barney and his song “I love you, you love me, we are happy family” anymore, because I’ve been listening to that theme song over and over and over again for the past three days, and know I will continue hearing it for the next two weeks and a half!) How many times throughout the day did I say “Barney se terminó” with the sign language for “end”? Innumerable and too many for me to recount.
At 11h20, Ana asked me to disconnect the television cable. As I did, I wondered why. My question was answered by the sight of JM running in and immediately going to turn on the TV and checking the cables when the TV did not respond to his command. I should consider becoming a security guard, because I am receiving much training for the job during my time at the school. JM is bright and quick-witted, and also very strong. JM is not the only one who hit me, most often on my forearms as I extend my hands towards them to persuade them to listen to me and heed to orders. My arms are beginning to reflect my struggles with bruises and red marks; the students have all overcome their “stranger’s fear” with me, and they resort to hitting among other signs of protest to test my resistance and authority against their caprices. Hold on, Se Jeong. Hold on! Cs, on the other hand, seems an angel when she plays. She is more open than the others and understands much better verbal language, responding to her name and simple questions in some verbal communication (whether coherent or not). But in the classroom, she can become a beast. For two hours, I jumped from sudden shouts and cries and “Ayudenme!” and “No! No! No quiero” and other similar expressions.
All in all, the morning was rocked by so many back-and-forths, and protests, and shouts, and tugs, amid other things, I would not be surprised if I forgot something, anything, else and more.

T  I would like to say the afternoon was quieter and calmer, but that would not be very close to the truth. Today, we had the entire group, including To. I gulped down my lunch today, and immediately ran into the living room. No room should be left unguarded, without supervision. And I am the quickest and freest to move around and “hunt down” for accident-preventions. “Do not walk around while eating.” “Sit properly on a chair or mini sofa while watching TV.” “Look at what you are doing while you are working on something.” are among my common repetitions. The front door, the fridge, any shelf, the bathroom, are among my common destinations. Catching an escaping student. Running behind an awaiting trouble. Twisting away from a hand-grab or hit of protest. By the end of the day, I’m so tired I do not feel like bothering to stop my sister, father or Mother from doing anything they want or ask. I’ve had my share of protesting and saying “no” for the day, week, month, year.
The therapists led the group activities today. I walked around a little, but spent most of my time with To, Si and Mu. The director spends most of her time and attention on To in order to figure out the best program for his learning. But she also has to work with other students, so she asked me to go this way and there to fill in the holes. That’s why I ended up running around and behind To, because I cannot allow any broken anything. Besides, I think To is even more protesting and rebelling because he is in denial of coming to Centro “2 de abril.” He refuses to comply with demands because he does not want to have anything to do with us. He even kicked the window today, and was harshly reprimanded by the director because that could be dangerous. (There had been previous accidents of broken windows, with Jo.) Si originally shied away from me again for two hours. But afterwards, he was jumping all around and over me, asking me to play with him even to the delight of the other psychologists. “Está fascinado con vos,” Lori always says. Si is so sweet and cute, always asking me to rub my nose against his, kiss his cheek, pick him up, and today, to hold his hand as he bounced on the trampoline and therapeutic ball (the same as the one in the weight room at UAS, now that I think of it). Si also pays a lot of focused attention on me, and has the highest ratio of answering to his name when I call him compared to others. I feel flattered, really. Mu is lazy and shy, but very tender and cuddly like a teddy bear. I just hope he does not suffocate me before the end of my time, with his strength and signs of affection.

T  The director and the other psychologists seem to use the students’ reactions around me to teach them emotions, because I heard them refer to “felicidad” and “amor” as they pointed at me and explained the emotions and all. Oh! That brings me to this: Fr was given a time-out because he was becoming violent and aggressive again. The director left him out in the garden (with an eye kept on him from inside, of course) until he asked to be left back in, under the condition he will listen and obey. What surprises me is Br’s reaction to Fr. Br is scared of Fr, who hit him once last week, but Br does not understand the feeling of fear he is exhibiting. Br feels but does not know the emotion he is feeling. We took the opportunity to teach him, label the emotion as fear, in the hope he learns the association.

T  Autistic children as well know how to taunt. For example, Jo was taunting Ta because the latter did not receive potato chips for misbehaving. Jo would hold out his in front of Ta and thrust it into his mouth when Ta reached out for it. I’m surprised, because to me, this implies that humans really do have a darker side inside, hidden somewhere. Even if we may not be aware of it, it transpierces through.

I’m pretty sure there is more. There always is more for me to remember and record. But I just cannot bring my mind to remember more. I think I’ll leave it up to here for today. I need to sleep and recharge my energy for tomorrow. The director and the other therapists all are worried that I may be doing too much, and that I am scared and tired of going to Centro “2 de abril” anymore, after these first three days. But the truth is I am so happy, though exhausted, that I do not mind any of the things I witness, experience and live through. They thank me for my help and disposition to help. I thank them for allowing me to share in their work. It’s a double win, benefitting both sides. It’s perfect.

           By the way, as a side note, I should really start wearing warmer clothes to my internship, because I am going to end up like “Frozen” in appearance and not just in songs. As soon as I arrive home, the first thing I do is rush into my room to turn on the little electric heater and crouch in front of it in the hope of melt my still-trembling body. I don’t blame anyone for my frostbitten state; it is no one’s fault that the heaters at the center are uncooperative and the heating system is so expensive. But I do wish it could be warmer! I don’t mind cold outside, but I do prefer being in a cozy, heated environment (that’s why I do not mind Canada at all weather-wise – they have great, low-cost heating systems there). In that aspect, I sometimes miss school and the usually warm classrooms.

Day 2

            Back home from the second day! People say the first day is always the hardest, and from my experiences so far this saying stands much true. Today was a much calmer and quieter day. Maybe because To wasn’t here today, as he was having his last kinesthesia-therapy, and because Pati stayed for the afternoon collective class sessions (group activities). The therapists were right; if I was able to survive yesterday, I am capable of overcoming anything in storage for me during my time at the center.

ù  This morning, I met Josefina at school at 11 o’clock and accompanied her to an in-home service center for a two-year-old, Bo. On our way there, Josefina warned me about various scenarios, and told me to not expect Bo to interact with me through any mean except crying, screaming and hitting. Bo has trouble attaching himself with any person who is not his mother, with whom he had formed an overly tight bond. Our task would consist of helping him feel comfortable around us, despite the absence of his mother (the object of securement). By understanding he is safe with other people and does not need to have his mother by his side all the time, Bo would take his first steps towards a “normal” life and therefore be able to enter a more formal rehabilitation program.
When we arrived, Bo immediately grew restless and began crying, looking for his mother to whom Josefina had asked to leave the house for an hour. I remember biting my lip, wondering how we would manage an entire hour with a child who obviously did not want to be alone with us. But my fears were soon assuaged by a soothed Bo. Within ten minutes, through embracing, kissing, singing, cajoling, Bo was calmed. Held in Josefina’s arms, he explored my smiling face with his curious eyes, reaching his fingers out in midair to touch my face. Afterwards, we went to his room where we watched him play with games. We tried to maintain his attention for longer periods on the same game, softly forcing him to finish the plays he started. We tried to make him play with the toys in the proper way (stacking up the blocks rather than lining them up in his organization-compulsive-behavior). The games ended when he began crying out of protest, which was almost in time for us to leave.
“Mira que deberias sentirte afortunada que Bo presta tanta atención a ti. Te mira y se siente muy comodo y bien con vos. Que suerte tenes, tenemos!” noted Josefina. Bo’s behavior had improved a whole lot. He engaged in babbling, the first signs of verbal communication. He was much happier and more comfortable around us strangers. He wanted to play with us, showed some interest in what we did. He responded to me, looked at me when I greeted him and called his name. Bo’s mother was delighted when she saw Bo laughing and waving his hand at me (we say at me even though he was directing his response to the void, because he reacted when I said, “Chau”), and even ran to hug me hard though for a second. I hope his progress keeps up. He has a lot of potential, and hopefully he will be able to live a more socially incorporated life.

ù  Josefina and I arrived at the center at one after noon. I gobbled down my lunch, bracing myself for a continually interrupted meal due to the children’s constantly rising needs. But today I was not cut from eating once. All the children had taken their medicine, and with the proper dose. In addition, two children were absent today for the classes, making the group more manageable as a whole. (As a side note, reflecting on yesterday’s lunch: Honestly, I’m not really sure what nor how I ate. After each bite, chew, swallow, drink, I had to keep on the lookout for any possible accident. From helping some to eat properly - with his fork rather than his hand – to heating up a just-arrived boy’s lunch, I was focused on anything but what I was about to digest.)
Until 14h00, the children had free time, during which they could watch TV, run in the garden, do what they want. But, oh my goodness! Did I forget to tell you the heartwarming interactions I had today with some of the children? When I finished eating, I went in the living room to say “hi” to the children (I am so rude I was attracted to my lunch before the children). And guess what? Si, the most hyper, ran to me excitedly and tugged at my arm before literally jumping on me, wrapping his legs around mine as a koala does around its mother. He was asking me to pick him up and cuddle him! Added to that, when I held him up in my arms, he pulled my face to his and rubbed his nose against mine; his way of asking me to kiss him. Furthermore, I think Mu understood I am a teacher as well, because he did not stop trying to receive my attention today. When I bent down to greet him, he responded to my voice, smiling and making eye contact (yes! He made eye contact, something so difficult for him!), and pulling my head towards his forehead or cheek to kiss. When I stopped tickling him or played with him, he would pull my hand, hold it, not let me go. Josefina was also very happy when she saw Mu playing with a toy with me in the proper way, because it was rare for Mu to do anything apart from pretending to sleep leaned against the wall, and especially to pay attention to a toy and play. Anyway, the 45 minutes I spent with the boys while waiting for Lori to come were the most adorable thing I’ve seen for a while. When Lori arrived, we all put on our coats to take a walk, the highlight group activity of the day. (Josefina stayed at the center with Fr; as a more advanced student, Fr needed some more personal attention to have more focused classes that were gratifying for his level of understanding and exhibit quicker advancements.)
The walk was for exercise, and for the children to have the opportunity to step outside, spend time in an environment than their homes and the center. We were four teachers in total (three therapists – Lori, Pati and Ana – and me); therefore, Lori and Pati were in charge of two students each while Ana and I were in charge of one each. In charge meaning holding the hand and giving them guidelines such as “mira por la derecha y la izquierda antes de cruzar.” We walked a couple of blocks, all around the neighborhood actually. We went to the little playground where all the children loved to ride the swings. Believe me, my arms will hurt tomorrow morning when I wake up, because pushing the swings for these children is not the easiest task ever when they love to feel the wind blowing against their face, watching the world come closer and away from them as they swing back and forth. I was mainly in charge of pushing Si’s swing, and the little mischievous munchkin kept pretending to slide off the swing, seeking my scared shriek and nagging protests he knew were signs of care and love. I know one important thing though: I should not be so soft and lenient with the children. The children are masters in these things. They know from who they can find the easy way out, be rewarded from their caprices. I have to toughen up, not show too much softness, leave space for the children to take advantage of me and my gentleness. Because that softness of mine will end up with me covered in bruises and red marks. Yes, the children, not only Si but also others, resort to hitting when they do not manage to twist their way around otherwise. They might have overcome their “stranger’s fear” with me, but they also have realized I am much softer than the adults.

I had the closest to a heart attack! While we were walking, Br decided he wanted to feel more autonomous and let go of Pati’s hand. Then, he suddenly took off… and almost ran into the street with cars dashing by! Thank goodness Pati was quick and caught him before he reached the zooming cars. Really, never let any child alone, even for one second, especially when they are out of the center.

 When we came back to the center, Josefina asked me to take care of paperwork. My assignment consisted of making pictograms used for el agenda. Each student has his own agenda on which the teachers give a debriefing of the day’s activities. The agenda is considered very important because it makes the children, no, the students (since there are also adolescents, it is not entirely correct for me to refer to them as “children” as a whole) aware of what they are going to do, what they are doing. The students are required to point at the corresponding pictogram, and when applicable they also have to repeat or read the name of the activity. When the time for an activity is finished, the student has to put the pictogram in an envelope stuck underneath his agenda, with a label read as fin, and the teacher says, “_____ se terminó”; this physically and metaphorically represents the activity is over.

ù  Mm, what else? Oh! By the time I was done with the pictograms and organized them accordingly, it was time to “tomar la leche” (remember? It stands for merienda). Many of the students left around here. For some reason, parents and elder siblings seemed to come earlier today. The children (although it’s not entirely accurate, I’ll continue using this term to refer to the whole group, because I keep employing the epithet), who had been behaving so well and wonderfully, had grown much more rebelling and less obedient by this time, I’m not sure why. Well, point being, it was fortunate the students left one by one earlier than usual, because it helped preventing conflicts, tensions, and accidents.

ù  For the time left, we all went outside and cleaned the garden to rid the leaves that had fallen off the branches of the trees. Ah, autumn is here and winter is coming. As the children who were left, Br and Mu, were not very cooperative and did not enjoy helping chores, Ana, Pati and I did most of the work (Lori was giving a 1:1 to Fe and Josefina washed the dishes from merienda).

As I was waiting to go home, I played with Fe for a while. And he was so cute! He might not be as quick and responsive as the others, but he really finds a lot of comfort in touch. When I came to greet him and called his name, he slowly looked up and reached out for my hand, which was already stroking his forehead, to continue rubbing it where he wanted me to caress him. For example, when I stroked his nose playfully, he grabbed my hand and gestured it the way I had. And when I was about to leave and told him “Chau,” he extended his arms on both sides and hugged me tight, as Bo had earlier. So cute!

      That’s it for today! I think. I’m going to go read the book on autism now, although I feel that I am most likely going to fall asleep while holding the book on my lap. Truly, I am amazed by the exhaustion I feel at night yesterday and today, and how well I slept last evening. I guess I spend much more energy than I am aware throughout the day. Honestly, I do not feel tired at all at the center, but once I enter car… Let’s just say my eyelids almost immediately droop. Mm, well, anyways. I hope you enjoy!

Day 1

I feel exhausted, and I hope my post won’t reflect my low level of energy. But I do hope that it reflects my anticipation as I type these words and try to recapitulate my much busy day. The really exciting part is that I am more of a teacher than I had thought I would be. Though there were four trained psychologist-therapists for the nine children who came, there was an awful shortage of hand. Therefore, my presence was much welcome. Informally, I was in charge of a number of children, always attentive for any incident that may arise. I had come thinking I would be an observer and assistant; I realize I will be an actual teacher as well as being a secretary and assistant.

           As a whole, my day was divided into two parts: 1:1 lesson in the morning and group activities in the afternoon with the highlight of the day as baking (ready-made vanilla pudding). Of course, the first part of the day was much more manageable and under control. The second part of the day, I and the other therapists had all been expecting a chaotic afternoon. Due to a new addition, To, the dynamic in the center has been disrupted, with changes made in the classes in order to hopefully have more efficient classes in the future. Furthermore, our newcomer is a little troublemaker; he appears to be an angel and behaves wonderfully, until he finds something to swipe off and on the floor. To requires the attention for an equivalent of five children in total, and the therapists are having trouble getting a grip on the new changes they have to adjust. Also, it has been only a week since T came to the center (he had been homeschooled until then), and today was the first time he had stayed at the center for an entire afternoon from 12h00 until 17h00. By 15h00, he grew restless, wanted to go back home, and openly misbehaved. It was even harder because T wasn’t used to listening to orders, having his way through with his parents. Josefina explained to me the first few weeks were crucial to assert authority, to establish his obedience to our desires, make him understand the basics of social learning (whether sitting down to work and eat or properly ask for things). Basically, I wasn’t the only one who was on my first day today, adapting to and learning from my new environment. Virtually everyone at the center was in a similar position as I.

I’ve spent much time describing To, as he was the most distinct case at the center today. Despite the overwhelming diversity among the nine children I met today, I think To was the one who stood the most out because he has just begun the rehabilitation therapy. T is like a tabula rasa, a blank slate on which the therapists are starting from scratch. Today, I’ll proceed with an introduction to my nine pupils, as a start for my blog. I think it is helpful to know and understand the people in order to follow my following daily posts. I think I’ll especially focus on M today, because I spent the most focused time with him due to the 1:1. Thus I can also explain a little bit of the rehabilitation exercises (most share the same, with varying levels of difficulty). I’ll try to keep it concise, for I do not want to scare away any of the readers of my blog. Okay, well, here goes!

Psychologist-therapists

Josefina

Abril

Lori

Ana

Pati

|  Mu has a more severe case autism, with difficulties in making eye contact and no form of speech whatsoever. Today, Mu behaved differently. As soon as he walked past the door, he immediately went to lie down on the mattress; he was obviously feeling sluggish and sleepy. Whereas he was usually jumpy and loud every day, he was weirdly quiet and uncooperative today. Josefina later told me and Abril that Mu's out-of-norm state was due to medication, not illness as we had worried. Even when he was given cookies (which he usually devours) during the desayuno, he put one cookie in the mouth and spit it out before throwing away the cookies in his plate in the trashcan upon the order. The desayuno exercise consists in practicing table manners and cleaning up after a meal. Agus and I would check off the things Mu did correctly alone, with ayudo parcial (partial help) or ayudo masivo (massive help), or forgot to do. Today, Mu needed a lot of ayudo masivo and needed many reminders such as wiping the table and bringing the plate to the sink.
After much encouragement and cajoling, Abril and I convinced him to sit for work. Examples of exercises were: identification of non-identical objects (e.g. placing a spoon in the basket with a spoon when there were two “distractor” baskets with a knife and a pencil); responding to his name;; imitating gestures (e.g. a fork and a spoon are placed beside a plate and if we put the fork in the plate, he has to emulate the action); and colouring within the lines. At around 10h30, M left for school (I wonder how he is in a “normal” environment… I guess he’s okay, if his parents keep sending him).
Overall, Mu's performance was poor; this might have been due to my presence. Mu was the only one who was really affected by my coming out of the whole bunch. He is a very jealous type, seeking to be the center of attention for all the caregivers around him. Because Abril and I spent much time talking with each other, he might have felt left out and thus misbehaved purposely to receive our attention. His way of catching attention is to stand up and escape from the room, expecting the caregivers to follow him and hug him before guiding him back to his place. In order to not reinforce his behavior, Abril and I did not give him the satisfaction of affectionate pats and hugs every single time; we did only as a reward for good behavior.

|  Fe also arrived in the middle of M's 1:1, interrupting it abruptly. He usually does not come, but sometimes his parents leave him at the center when they need a babysitter. (You can guess Mu became even more jealous.) Fe does not have autism; instead, he has a dysfunction in the section of the brain known as corpus callosum, meaning he has difficulties in coordinating the left and right hemispheres of the brain. Since the intervention methods for his disorder are similar to autism, he attends Centro “2 de abril.”
Fe engages in much more social behavior including eye contact and asking for and holding my hand when he wants comfort (and when he wants to watch the TV, which is literally all the time). He has severe difficulties in retaining attention and gets distracted extremely easily. Oh, and anyone who has something against saliva will have to overcome the disgust, because Fe salivates always.

|  Ta is a pupil who pays a lot of attention to details. He has finer motor skills compared to the other children. He also cries a lot, for that is his way of asking for attention. He engages in some speech, though it is incoherent (mostly “tikki tikki tikki), and his shyness makes him avoid the eyes of the speaker. Abril and Josefina say that I must seem worthy and precious in his eyes, because he looks at me when I call his name and speak to him, and occasionally even when he doesn’t have to. Personally, I believe it may be because I’m a novelty in the house. But I’m not the expert psychologist.

|  Br is one of the most extroverted and shameless of them all. He is loud and enjoys speaking, although it is a non-functional form of speech. He always repeats, whether a phrase that stuck to him (i.e. “Se ensucio!” and "Quiero mas tostaditas o algo asi.") or something he heard. There are two things B loves to do apart from hearing his voice: running out of the house and around the garden, and eating, even off of other people’s plate.

|  In contrast, Jo is the shyest and most introverted. Even though he understands everything, he cannot speak. He is so affectionate, and so attentive! He is always willing to help and, actually, seems to look out for ways to help the people around him. According to the therapists, Jo seems to consider me very pretty, making him extra shy around him and even more on the lookout for me and ways to help me.

|  Now, Al is the oldest student coming to the center. He is very calm, or at least appeared to be very calm today. Supposedly, he can have his outbursts randomly, as he does some days. He is like a teddy bear, very big but with the heart and spirit of a baby. Ana and Lori affirm that Al adores me. They claim that he never watches a person so tenderly and blushingly; his holding out for my hand to rub it against his cheek before running away, shrieking excitedly, only added to the “pila de evidencia.” Oh well, I think it’s sweet. It’s weird to think I’m his teacher crush though. The most impacting feature of him, though, is that he is always feeling hot, meaning he was wearing a short sleeve t-shirt today, even without the heating on (It broke! And I hope they fix it soon, because I was freezing! L)

|  Fr has compulsive aggression issues. He has already hit three five people in the center, two classmates and three teachers. As a punishment (he had hit Josefina, the director, on Friday), he was deprived of the pudding during the merienda (which we call “tomar leche” – the terms indicating different activities, actions, etc. are fixed in order to enforce the learning and avoid confusion). He understands what we say, and he can answer somehow to our requests. A and Fr both understand when they are spoken to; however, A rarely speaks (except for the squeaking shrieks, I did not hear his voice) while Fr does make attempts with groans and babbling. He obeys me the best, supposedly, out of us teachers. After so many cases, the therapists decided I am a very pretty and gentle person for the boys to fall under my charm and try to please me.

|  Si is the most hyperactive. He does not eat anything (he barely touched his lunch and his pudding), yet he is full of an intense energy I ignore the source. He always prances around when he has the chance, jumping and dancing like a harlequin and never keeping still for longer than five minutes. Santi may be mischievous but he is so adorable and sweet! When he feels he has done something wrong, he comes to tug at my arm and hand and asks for a hug, which for him signifies forgiveness. He can be very, very, very loud, though these moments of angry outbursts of protests are short-lived. Short and loud, hates to work and loves to play, that’s his way of being. At first, he was flustered and embarrassed around me, but by the time he left, the barrier had shattered and he was quite literally climbing on top of me as a monkey does along the trunk of a tree.

|  And last but not least, To whom I introduced earlier. T can be so sweet when he wants to, and really the only problem is his compulsion to swipe things off the table, shelves, etc., which is annoying because nothing can be left in hand’s reach if we do not want it ending up shattered on the floor. He tried to get at me with the easy way, using his tears (these children are such talented drama kings, they truly are!) as pathos against me. But I knew to hold my ground, and he does not do it anymore. He does seek the most comfort from me though. Josefina, his main teacher, can be very tough and demanding, and since I spend the most time with compared to the other teachers, he seems to think I am the most accessible and nicest. I have to continually remind myself that I cannot be lenient, but it is difficult when anyone is as cute as To.

I think I’ll stop here for today. So much to write! But I promised I’ll keep it to an introduction to the children for today, and I’ll keep to my words. I hope you enjoy this essay of a post, and that I am not tiring not boring you. Good night, and see you tomorrow! J