Top 10 Things I’ve Learned from Charlie and from being Charlie’s Mother
October 16, 2007 by Kristina Chew, PhD
Filed under Health
Unus, duo, tres, quattuor, quinque, sex, septem, octo, novem, decem: These are the numbers from 1-10 in Latin. I reeled them off to my Elementary Latin class, who had been tallying up all the things they need to know for next week’s midterm: Enough with the third declension and the imperfect tense!
Sometimes, in teaching, you have to follow your students’ lead; go a little way in their direction, and then you can gently turn and tug them back to the main business of the lesson. I’ve been teaching for decem annos and more, but it is the past ten years that I have had a constant teacher, Charlie, who was born ten-plus years ago in 1997, and he has kept me busy with a full schedule of assignments, readings, and much more.
Of course, it is very often that I am Charlie’s teacher. When he was much younger, I used to take my place in his schedule of therapists (Jim did too) and work through all of his ABA programs just like them. When Charlie was five I discerned that I had best leave the teaching to, yes, his teachers and therapists, and the rest of the world—grocery stores and Target aisles, gymnastics class and piano practice—became my teaching time. I had become aware of my limitations as Charlie’s teacher; I commensurately became aware of how much I had learned, and was learning from him. So here, then, for the October Theme Day for the b5media Health and Science Channel, is a “Top 10″ list of What I’ve Learned from Charlie and from being Charlie’s Mother. In honor of my own students, I am using Roman numerals.
- I. I’ve seen the world turned upside down and like the new perspective.
- II. I can swim.
- III. I can blog.
- IV. I can read a label of any food item and know whether it contains gluten or casein (though Charlie eats some things with wheat without ill effects; it’s still hold the dairy).
- V. I can almost sing in tune (just ask my students who had to hear me sing the endings to the third declension to the tune of Ode to Joy today).
- VI. I know that words only communicate so much, and that body language, tone and pitch of voice, and a pattern of pacing through the house can say a lot.
- VII. I can drive with eyes on the road and one arm behind me changing the song on an iPod, per Charlie’s request.
- VIII. What may have once seemed a minor crisis (a submerged-in-the-ocean cell phone, a car that fails its inspection and then (out of the blue) has a broken headlight and attracks the attention of the authorities, a misplaced textbook, a missed appointment, a carpet full of mud or something else) seems, and is, simply minor.
- IX. I am more patient, much humbled, and ever more ready to be open-minded.
- X. I am a better teacher of Latin and ancient Greek.
I am sure there is more to add to this list. Charlie is only 10, after all, and I am looking forward to 10, 20, 30, 40, who knows how many more good years with him of living, and learning.
10 photo courtesy of yoppy via Flickr.
VIII and IX are perhaps the most important lessons for me; perspective and priorities with a good dollop of openness and humility. Our children are amazing teachers, are they not?
My husband likes to say, “When the student (meaning a doctor, teacher, therapist or other professional) is ready to learn, Nik will teach them; if they aren’t, he will frustrate them.” Wise insights for most of our kids.
good list! can identify especially with VI and VIII!
an aside:
latin, greek, and classical literature are unusual teaching subjects these days. do you teach classical or ecclesiastical? koine or attic? do you read translation- like fitzgerald? or do you have them translate the originals?
-Amanda
(”classical” homeschooler)
my classically autistic son’s favorite cd lately is my daughter’s greek pronunciation cd…
I learn something everyday!
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE Contact: Teresa Finnegan
teresa.finnegan@jkp.com
WILL SHOWS A WAY THROUGH AUTISM
Revised Edition of Mother’s Memoir Rekindles the Potential for Hope
“I was beginning to take for granted the fact that we could move through a morning, an afternoon, perhaps even a whole day without a flip-out or a freak-out,” writes Kelly Harland, the mother of Will, a boy with autism. “Sometimes, in my indefatigable optimism, I get to a place where I really believe the whole nightmare is over. But something eventually comes up again, out of the blue, in a flash, an electrifying bolt.”
Seattle-based Harland, a teacher, singer, and writer, has masterfully captured these “flashes” in a compilation of evocative vignettes entitled A Will of His Own, Reflections on Parenting a Child with Autism [January 2008, Jessica Kingsley Publishers, $18.95, 978-1-84310-869-6].
Harland’s prose is vivid, her insight is razor sharp, and her story has merit for anyone who has ever experienced the utter vulnerabilities and joys, heartaches and little miracles which go along with raising a child not described as “typical.” Her chapters involve sometimes frustrating and heartrending depictions of life with a child who reacts fearfully to everyday events such as checking out at the grocery store. Yet, in the revised edition Harland adds glimpses of William in his teenage years that provide encouraging indications of hope, learning, and growth.
Harland writes, “Whatever has led us to this—years of speech therapy, hours upon hours of my own input based on instinct and a few educated guesses, his father’s incredible talent for showing him a way to walk through this world—William can see his dream, and it looks good. In fact, it looks perfect. And he’s telling me about it.”
Above all, it is the love for Will—for what he is, not for what he might have been—that shines through this book, and we get to know him as a charming, intriguing, and undeniably worthwhile human being. “Those with autism may have a very different way of looking at the world from the rest of us,” writes Jane Asher, President of the National Autistic Society, in the book’s foreword, “but if we can just step back occasionally and see life through the eyes of those like him, we might learn, not only something about their problems and what we can do to help, but also about ourselves.”
Kelly Harland is a Seattle vocalist, writer, and voice teacher. She is on the faculty of the music department at the Cornish College of the Arts. Her voice has been featured not only on radio and television, but also in backing vocals with Ray Charles and Etta James. She has written articles for the magazine Autism Advocate and contributed to the Cup of Comfort book series. She lives with her husband Chuck Deardorf, her mischievous cat Georgie, and her son William, who has autism.
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For further information please contact:
email: teresa.finnegan@jkp.com
This is a great list, Kristina. I love your attitude toward learning.
And here’s the only Latin I remember, grammatically incorrect, of course: Semper ubi sub ubi. Thanks for the reminder that i should brush up. ;]
Kristen
Hi Amanda, I teach classical, Attic, Greek—-it overlaps a lot with Koine. Our goal is to translate the originals; the progress is slow but persistent! No, I haven’t tried to teach Charlie any Greek—–what’s the pronunuciation on the CD?
I love your #8! So true.