This week, my boss posted a reflection that caught me. Here's the gist:
"An autistic adult who collects toys, is still an adult."
"An autistic adult with OCD behavior, is still an adult."
"An autistic adult who likes tinkerbell or butterflies, or race cars, is still an adult."
"An autistic adult who doesnt' respond the way you want them to, is still an adult."
"An autistic adult who has an outburst or a freak out, is still an adult."
"An autistic adult who needs hygiene support, is still an adult."
You catch my drift.
When grown men have rooms of sports paraphenailia they're collectors. When adult women lose their cool and scream, they're venting. When an adult without a lable of disability, has any kind of human behavior- it's just that. Human behavior. Often we see people with disability as "child-like" or "not adult" as though their disability negates their right to be an adult human.
I love this job. I have been looked down on, because it's not a "professional" job. I don't wear "business casual" to work from 9-5. I don't need a degree and I don't get paid much, so really, what must I be doing with my life? While I have goals and dreams and things I want to do with my career, I love this job. Even if I leave being in direct care, I'll be volunteering here. I'm a lifer. I understand though, you don't get it unless you're in it.
The other day I spent an hour or two telling my husband L'Arche stories. Five years of memories of people that are sometimes more my family than some of my family. He laughed with me through countless hilarious moments, helped my tears as I talked about losses and changes in people, and since he's been in our community too, celebrated with me.
This job has changed my life. I can't tell you what it means to have a Core Member care back. I've worked with one person, we'll call him Joe. Joe is going through some changes in memory but he knows me. Every single morning I leave- Joe tells me "Ah-na, I love you Ah-na." He doesn't have to love me. He doesn't love every person he meets, but he knows me and he loves me and makes certain I never forget it. Joe is the guy who says "thank you" when you've helped clean him up in the middle of the night- as though it weren't my job. Watching Joe change, has been one of the hardest parts of my time here. I've seen what happens after a person loses most of their memory, but I've never known them before that. This change kills me.
My job is about human lives, showing value and worth on people who get overlooked. It's about how people have forever altered the path of my life by simply being. People who get condecended to and treated like children everywhere they go, as though they aren't worth the humanity. Where working with them and building into the lives is not "real job". Where people who aren't living with assistance are told to "act normal" because they need to conform. Maybe some people need to start "acting disabled". I wonder what we'd change.