That was my side of the story, where all was calm and gentleness.
Ian’s side of the story was slightly different.
In my book, I described it as follows: “I started taking Ian into the classroom every morning. He wouldn’t sit, and he most certainly wouldn’t look at me when I asked him to. You’d have thought I was asking him to peel his own skin!” So for Ian, it was more of a challenge.
He moved around a lot in his seat; he made strange noises; he kept trying to get up; his hands were everywhere. But then …
“… after a few scary days, he did start to sit still for more than a few seconds at a time, and he did start to give a fleeting glance in my direction when I asked for it. ”
(“From the Inside” Chapter 5)
Something changed in him. He still made noises and his hands were all over the place, but now I was getting his attention. He wasn’t just reaching wildly, he was reaching for the things I was talking to him about, the plastic animals, or the books, or my pens.
When the therapy team was formed, each person had to go through their few days. Ian had to get used to the idea that he was required to do the same things and behave the same way, for more than one person. And he did.
Nothing made me happier than watching him walking, sometimes running – yes, running – into the classroom ahead of his teacher.
There was learning to be done, and Ian wanted to be a part of it.
Next time: “The Wooden Chair”