I talk much about my brothers, our parents, and others in our family in my little jaunts into our past. But there were some other "boys" that just about each one of us, my immediate family, who also left their marks on the inside walls of the our head.
The "State School" was what it called by most in that area. After you car climbed the tall hill on the Farm Market Road the campus sat just on the left, its open gates and green lawns with the fishing pond gave one the impression that life down that winding road surly was a place of comfort and a place were the State had made a place for who need a place for coping with life that was, "just a little bit different" then ours.
We called them "The Boys", because in most of their cases their mental capabilities, somewhere along their way, had stopped them from reaching adulthood. We called them "boys" because that in reality was what they were even though many of them were well into what we now call our "Senior Years".
At one time or another just about everyone in my family had taken on the challenge of working there. It was a place where you learned a lot about what life can be like for others and how it is so important to help take care of others who are not as fortunate as ourselves.
I first worked there in my last year of High School, going each afternoon to the Central Kitchen and helping to prepare the evening meals, then serving the meals to them in the dining rooms that were attached to several of the dorms that they called home. It was a abrupt awaking to me of just how lucky I was to have a "normal" life outside of those walls and fences.
Several years later, I returned to work there helping with the caretaking of a group of them who lived on a specific dorm. These were the "higher level boys". Most of these boys held down small jobs in one of the work programs on the campus that allowed them to keep themselves "busy". It also gave them a pittance of a salary which allowed them extra money that was above what their "state" monthly allowance provided.
No matter what though, each day came and went just about the same as the day before. Up early, dress for the day, breakfast then off to work. For the ones on the dorm that did not work we tried to keep them "busy". Playing games with them, a couple hours of trying to teach them "life skills". But mainly just making sure that their days went be un-eventful.
In the afternoons, the "working boys" would return for supper, and then about 4 hours of recreation time. Our job then was to supervise them and I found myself wanting to "entertain" them. I would take a small group of down to the Recreation Hall for evening dances on Fridays or movies on Saturday evenings. Some employees would bring their "clients" and go to sit along the bleachers to watch over their "boys" from a distance. I couldn't do that. I felt that it was part of my job to be with them and interact with them. On Sunday afternoons I would take a small group to the pond that lay just inside the front gate for a couple of hours of fishing.
Never did I have to worry about one of them "running away" even though there had been instances where I feel a few had gotten "lost" and wandered away from the school in the past. In most of those cases the surrounding community did their part and would report the sighting and in many cases keep "an eye on them" until someone came to get them and bring them "home".
I enjoyed working there and learned a lot from the experience. More then anything else I learned to be humble and a strong sense of understanding that everyone needs help every now and then. I guess that's why even now, if I see one who seems lost or un-certain of their situation I found myself wanting to say "Can I help you?..
I guess I do that because I remember the looks and smiles of those "boys" when they understood that they meant something to someone, and the hope that when and if I am ever in the same kind of situation, someone will come to my aid.
Isn't that part of life? Being here for each other? Knowing that you can make a difference maybe in just a small way.
Sometimes it takes so little to let others know that you really do care...
Johnny
The "State School" was what it called by most in that area. After you car climbed the tall hill on the Farm Market Road the campus sat just on the left, its open gates and green lawns with the fishing pond gave one the impression that life down that winding road surly was a place of comfort and a place were the State had made a place for who need a place for coping with life that was, "just a little bit different" then ours.
We called them "The Boys", because in most of their cases their mental capabilities, somewhere along their way, had stopped them from reaching adulthood. We called them "boys" because that in reality was what they were even though many of them were well into what we now call our "Senior Years".
At one time or another just about everyone in my family had taken on the challenge of working there. It was a place where you learned a lot about what life can be like for others and how it is so important to help take care of others who are not as fortunate as ourselves.
I first worked there in my last year of High School, going each afternoon to the Central Kitchen and helping to prepare the evening meals, then serving the meals to them in the dining rooms that were attached to several of the dorms that they called home. It was a abrupt awaking to me of just how lucky I was to have a "normal" life outside of those walls and fences.
Several years later, I returned to work there helping with the caretaking of a group of them who lived on a specific dorm. These were the "higher level boys". Most of these boys held down small jobs in one of the work programs on the campus that allowed them to keep themselves "busy". It also gave them a pittance of a salary which allowed them extra money that was above what their "state" monthly allowance provided.
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No matter what though, each day came and went just about the same as the day before. Up early, dress for the day, breakfast then off to work. For the ones on the dorm that did not work we tried to keep them "busy". Playing games with them, a couple hours of trying to teach them "life skills". But mainly just making sure that their days went be un-eventful.
In the afternoons, the "working boys" would return for supper, and then about 4 hours of recreation time. Our job then was to supervise them and I found myself wanting to "entertain" them. I would take a small group of down to the Recreation Hall for evening dances on Fridays or movies on Saturday evenings. Some employees would bring their "clients" and go to sit along the bleachers to watch over their "boys" from a distance. I couldn't do that. I felt that it was part of my job to be with them and interact with them. On Sunday afternoons I would take a small group to the pond that lay just inside the front gate for a couple of hours of fishing.
Never did I have to worry about one of them "running away" even though there had been instances where I feel a few had gotten "lost" and wandered away from the school in the past. In most of those cases the surrounding community did their part and would report the sighting and in many cases keep "an eye on them" until someone came to get them and bring them "home".
I enjoyed working there and learned a lot from the experience. More then anything else I learned to be humble and a strong sense of understanding that everyone needs help every now and then. I guess that's why even now, if I see one who seems lost or un-certain of their situation I found myself wanting to say "Can I help you?..
I guess I do that because I remember the looks and smiles of those "boys" when they understood that they meant something to someone, and the hope that when and if I am ever in the same kind of situation, someone will come to my aid.
Isn't that part of life? Being here for each other? Knowing that you can make a difference maybe in just a small way.
Sometimes it takes so little to let others know that you really do care...
Johnny
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