bring the noyz

Tuesday was Graduation Day at school. It was a tough day.

The Graduation ceremony is always at 1:00. The local media always shows up. They tend to be a little heavy with the hyperbole while covering the drama of kids with significant cognitive and physical disabilities graduating from school and heading off into adulthood and a much realer, meaner world, but they typically do a fairly good job of covering the story. It is always an event of highly charged and incredibly mixed emotions. You get to see grown men weep. It really is amazing to behold.

I've seen fourteen of them now, each one is unique and an incredible experience to witness and to participate in. I typically return home feeling like I ran an emotional marathon and promptly fall asleep on the couch after a few celebratory happy hour margaritas.

During the morning we held our annual Memorial Ceremony to commemorate and celebrate the lives of students we lost over the last year. It's always more than one. In my fourteen years I have yet to experience a year without a Memorial. It is one of the occupational hazards of my job. Kids with significant physical and cognitive disabilities have lots of problems. Cripes man, what an understatement. In most cases it is miraculous they lived as long as they did.

Sometimes Death comes at the end of a long slow decline and its arrival is greeted as almost a blessing, because their innocent soul has finally been released from the bounds of earthly suffering.

Sometimes Death comes quickly and unexpected, typically in the form of a seizure in the dark of night.

Either way, it always sucks.

This year there were two, Carlton and Laron. Both were my students. In both cases Death was an eventual release from progressively degenerating bodies. Guess who was asked by the Principal to organize and plan the ceremony.

It went well, both families were there, as was a pediatric doctor, a social worker, a small host of students, school staff and a downtown administrator or two.

I ended it by performing a Warren Zevon song with my Martin, "Keep Me in Your Heart".

When it was all said and done several people commented that they had no idea that I could sing. Neither did I, really. But by all accounts it sounded great.

Go figure.

I was just coming down off this weird gloomy euphoric high caused by performance anxiety mixed with grief flashbacks.

Then it was off to the Graduation. . .

This year's was exceptionally tough for me. One of my most favorite and most loved former students graduated. She's leaving school, half of the only world she has known for the past thirteen years. She's also leaving half of my world.

She's certainly not my first graduate. Like the Memorials, I usually manage one or two graduates a year. You teach, care, love, and fight for them all equally, with the dedication, intensity, and sometimes ferocity of a mamma bear protecting her cubs. But some are more precious than others. People are people, you connect and click better with some than others. It's not personal, it's personality. Rita has been most precious for years. This song was inspired by her.

In the end, with both grief and graduation, you let them go.

Graduation day is a day for saying your piece, finding your peace, then moving on.

Some years it's harder than others.

This is a hard year.

This is the piece I had to say:

I was not the first choice to speak for Margarita. Her teacher first asked a few others whose lives she has also touched deeply. But they politely declined, citing their inability to do this without crying. I am honored to stand before you today and speak on behalf of Margarita. I promise I will do my best to get through this without tears.

Margarita has been at Rosedale almost as long as I have. In a very real sense, we both have grown up here. She has spent almost her entire school career here. She knows this building as well as anyone. She enjoys running down its halls, looking back over her shoulder for her partner in her version of tag. She knows the exact location of every pleasant smelling container of spray or lotion in this building. If you take your eyes off her for a second, there is a good chance she will be gone in a flash, racing off to one of those spots for a quick fix of something yummy smelling.

While we have been acquainted since Margarita began attending Rosedale, our relationship really took off seven or eight years ago. Margarita was a student in Dedra’s class across the hall. We had two shifts then. Margarita and her classmates came an hour earlier than my older students. Almost every morning before my students arrived I would stop by Dedra’s room to get a cup of coffee. Margarita was curious about me; she was coy and almost flirtatious. Over time, we began to know and understand each other. I believe we each recognized a kindred spirit in the other. We would go for walks in the morning. Sometimes she would lead me by the hand, stopping to stand beside a wagon. I knew our relationship had reached a significant milestone the first time she allowed me to pick her up and set her inside the wagon so that I could pull her in it for our morning walk.

I remembered that story last night as I sat at home, staring at a blank screen and wondering what to say today. I remembered other amusing anecdotes and cute stories involving Rita and all the times she stole my heart with a look from her big brown eyes while trying to steal my coffee or sneak some of my lunch. I considered sharing several of them with you now. But then I realized that sharing more of those stories now would most likely lead to my breaking my tear-free promise.

So instead I thought I would try to summarize and describe Margarita. I thought of these two words: playful perseverance.

She is playful, and fun-loving. She takes on few challenges without a mischievous grin and an ornery gleam in her eye.

And as for perseverance. . .

When she was in my class a few years ago, Rita was the type of student that caused me to echo words I heard from some of my own teachers way back when (further establishing the kindred spirit connection), “If only you’d put as much effort into doing your work as you do into trying to get out of it. . . “

Work she eventually did.

Rita has had a very impressive school career, and come a long way from the little girl I first remember seeing bouncing around the classroom next door, rhythmically vocalizing while rocking and flicking the draw-string on the blinds. She has successfully mastered many things: self-help skills, sorting tasks, delivery jobs, and using her symbol based calendar system are just a few of her achievements. Her independence has grown significantly. As her independence has grown she has blossomed. In general, she is much more outgoing and interested in socializing with others than she was years ago. She is truly a testament to the belief that you are never too old to learn so long as you just keep trying.

She has progressed and persevered.

There is something in her personality that always reminds me of a stray kitten. She remains cautious and wary. While she craves your attention, she frequently acts as though she is never quite sure how far to trust you. And much like a kitten, Margarita is just about the most adorable thing in the world.

Before we send Margarita off into the world beyond these old brick walls where she learned so much, I would like to remind everyone that education is very much a two way street. I would like to take a moment to review and share some of the things she taught us.

Margarita taught us to slow down and enjoy some of life’s simple pleasures, such as the scent of a pleasant perfume.

Margarita taught us that sometimes there really is nothing more interesting than the texture of someone’s shirt.

Margarita reminds us that some can say more with their eyes than many people can with words.

Margarita is well known for her diverse tastes. Margarita taught me that everything, and I mean everything, from the entrée to desert is better with Ranch dressing. She taught us that when it comes to fine dining, you can never have too many condiments. If ketchup is good; then ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, barbecue sauce and Ranch dressing with some syrup or jam on top is better still.

Margarita teaches us to approach life playfully, and if you keep trying you will eventually persevere. Just because the teacher stopped you from stealing his coffee today doesn’t mean you should not try again tomorrow. Just bide your time, eventually you’ll catch him off guard. Then the coffee will be yours!

So Margarita, when this week is over and you have left school, I will think of you often, and hope to visit whenever I can. But I will not worry, because I know that no matter where your future takes you, you will succeed with playful perseverance.

May you and I both find our peace in this world.
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