The Way We Treated People-Tommy

My brothers and sisters and I  always knew Cousin Tommy was different. I shared a birthday with him but we were never similar. When he was born  my Aunt and Uncle discovered he had Downs Syndrome. They even knew what had caused it. For sure. It was the food poisoning she had had before she even knew for certain she was pregnant, food poisoning caused by ice cream which had been re-frozen by the market.

So, my family never shopped at Safeway or ate Carnation Brand Foods! When the movie, Uncle Remus' Song of the South came out heavily publicized on Carnation billboards, my family boycotted it!  That was how much we hated what had happened to Tommy.

The first years of his life were a mystery to us kids.  We didn't see him because they lived on the East Coast and we lived on the West.  We knew his dad was the pride of my mom's family, college graduate, a published scientist. Sometimes, he came out to lecture at famous universities in California. But, Tommy didn't come.. We knew he was in a special place for children like him and that he was separated from his family.

Within our world banishment seemed harsh punishment and it took a lot of explaining to help us understand why this was best. The explanations didn't sit well.  Then, Tommy was taken out of that place and went back to live with his brothers and sisters again! The new arrangement was deemed necessary because Tommy had learned a whole new set of behaviors from the other residents. He had become unruly, loud, and belligerent! He was too different from the sweet, happy child they had dropped off.

Tommy was home. But, there were new rules for all of us  if he were to live within his family. Looking ahead to an adult life with Tommy, my uncle and aunt decided he would be mute.  No language for him. It would not do for him to be muttering in the audience while his important father was on stage. There would be no playing, either.  He was off-limits to us when we visited. He had his schooling and, later, his chores. He was busy learning with no time off. We kids couldn't understand it.

When he was fifteen he came to California to stay with us for a time longer than a visit.  He lived with us and went to school with my mom in her sixth grade classroom where he was her 'helper'. We wanted him to talk something awful! We practiced with him, carefully enunciating. Everything we tried worked! He was a perfect mimic. Eventually, he could say our names and use short sentences. We were so proud because we had helped him learn to speak! My aunt and uncle were not pleased and he went home earlier than expected.

When I was twenty-two, my siblings and I spent the summer in Boston with Tommy and his family while my mother proudly attended a Middle East Symposium for 40 hand-picked teachers from all over the US. Dad stayed in California working to support us. By then,Tommy was a man. He could shave himself, do laundry, clean house, wash dishes and play the piano! He was quiet, obedient, well-mannered and mute. But he greeted us was a big smile on his face and said our names!

While we were there he wanted to be with us. One time he feigned illness and we all snuggled together around his 'sick bed' to watch TV.  Other times we helped with his chores so he could come with us. Our days were full of schemes and finagling to get him to join us.

When we could spring him we made quite a sight.  Six California kids and six cousins, walking the sidewalks together, making our way to the ball field. Tommy couldn't hit, nor catch.  But boy! could he umpire! He loudly called Ball! and Strike! with the appropriate hand signals. Often, he would surprise us by halting the game in mid-inning imperiously stepping out from behind the batter or, from behind the pitcher, to halt the proceedings while he took a small cleaning brush from his back pocket and wiped the home base!

Tommy played the piano by ear.  He could copy anything he heard and also composed  music of his own which we all loved to hear.  Sometimes, the pieces were short and lively, others were long and dramatic.  What we kids noticed after awhile was he actually played a different piece for each of us.  Those pieces became our songs. 'Play my song , Tommy, please?' each begged. And he did. Some were original and some were show tunes or TV theme songs. It was always the same song for the same kid. We sang along when we could and our laughter filled the house. Tommy grinned!

Although expected to die soon after birth, Tommy lived into his sixties.  His father and he were roommates in  a board and care nursing home after my aunt died.  Then,  my uncle passed.  After that, Tommy lived in a home with a piano. He could still play our songs from memory. Because of Tommy and the inequities he experienced, I turned to special education as my primary teaching interest. I am so thankful that our treatment of all people has come out of the darkness I remember.

I'm awake

Yeah, I'm awake and alert for the first time in how many hours?   Since five yesterday?  Is today Friday?

I went to sleep in my clothes.  I do not recommend wearing 18 hour bras for more than 18 hours.   Oh no. I don't.  They are crossing more than my heart.   I slept in my shoes too.  I just went down and stayed down.  All through the news, the tv shows my hubby kept watching, the news again.  Not even a hope of getting up and getting ready for bed.

Just deep soothing relaxing sleep.  On muffin crumbs.  I do not recommend eating muffins in bed either.

No shower before bed, no shower this morning yet.  I'm not really up to peeling off these twisted slept in clothes.  

I am after all dressed!

What did I miss?