Well look at that, Willy. Er, willya?

One of the things I love the most about the work I do is the immediacy.

One of my biggest challenges in the job is the immediacy.

There really isn't any such thing as a 'typical' day.
Every session of program is different.

Take Wednesday. (Please!)

I stand in the hallway outside our program space as the kids are dismissed.
They dismiss them by grade level. The lower floor of the school has the younger kids, the bigger kids are upstairs. Some of the 5th graders, including Colin, have volunteered to help with the dismissal process for Kindergarten.

The dismissal announcements come over the intercom at about three minute intervals.

The first run of kids (they're like salmon, swimming upstream) passes me as I stand in the doorway. They bump together, swirl and eddy, some of them end up going backwards and then circle back around. It's sort of hilarious.

Although they're told to, they can't stay in a line. They bunch up and take up the entire width of the space they're in.

The teacher, her aide and usually 3 or four 5th graders per K class are broadcasting verbal instructions on a loop. "Stay on my side of the hallway. This is the right side of the hallway. Stay on the right of the hallway. Follow me. Please stay to the right."

Then Stevie, who is almost always wandering aimlessly at the end of the fish school just walks right on past me.

"Stevie, this is where you go. There's Miss Susan, Stevie, this is where you're going. Stop here, Stevie."

"Hi Stevie, how ya doin'?"

He ignores me.
He walks into the room and immediately goes for the Bionicles.
"Stevie, put your backpack in the basket. Stevie, this is where your backpack goes, can you put it away, please?"

I'm not being a control freak, backpacks get in the way of other kids who are trying to play there, too. And they're not allowed on the playground at all per school rules. Safety issues. So it's easier to just have the kids take them off right away and put them in the baskets that have been provided for that use.

"Stevie, please put your backpack here."

Finally I go to him, touch him on the shoulder, take him by the hand and walk him over to the baskets.

"This is where your backpack goes, Stevie."

He always just blinks at me before he does what I've asked of him. His expression doesn't really change. He's not being willful, it just seems that what I'm saying isn't getting through to him. When it finally does, his face stays deadpan. It's difficult to tell if he's catching what I'm trying to say or not until he actually does what I ask.

The other kids don't play with him. They play next to him, they move over to make room for him when he wants to join them, but they have trouble relating to him.

Will and James were sort of mean to him on Wednesday, he tried to make his Bionicle talk to theirs and Will, who will never be a diplomat, told him, "Dude! We're not playing with you! Go away!" Very rude voice.

James said, "Yeah, go away!" He is always happy to follow Will and do whatever snotty thing he thinks is okay.

Stevie's little heart was shattered. He began to cry loudly. He laid down on the floor between a couple chairs and buried his face in his arms, sobbing.

I went to him from the snack table where I was laying out some crackers and some spoons for the yogurt, stopping on the way to tell Will and James, in a voice loud enough for Stevie to hear me,  "Guys, that wasn't very nice. I won't make you play with someone, but you don't have to be mean to them. I'm disappointed that you couldn't speak in a nicer voice to one of our group."

I sat on the chair nearest Stevie, put my hand on his back.
"I'm sorry your feelings were hurt, Stevie." I put a tissue in one of his hands, he ignored me. Kept sobbing loudly. I patted his little back ineffectually and waited a moment to see if he'd acknowledge me in any way. Nope.

So I leaned down where he could hear me, said, "I can see that you're upset, Buddy. When you're ready to talk, come see me, okay?"

I patted his head, poked another tissue into his little closed fist and finished putting snacks out for everyone. Announced hand washing. Stevie immediately stopped crying, peeked at the snack table to see what was being offered and ran to the sink to wash up.

I made a mental note to talk to Will and James when no one else is listening and the afternoon went on.

We finished eating and got ready for some running around outdoors. Hayden was our first aid guy, he grabbed the suitcase and stood by the door. Everyone else lined up, I opened the door to pouring rain.

So it became our first excursion to the gym instead.

I was standing in the gym doorway so I could see into the room while waiting for Alex to finish in the bathroom.

Suddenly Amelia screamed and started laughing. Ellie, who thinks Amelia is the best thing in the universe, was actually on the floor she was laughing so hard. Will and James were holding on to each other and laughing, too.

What was so funny?
Stevie.

Pants and underwear down around his ankles, legs hobbled together with his clothing, hopping in a little circle so everyone could see his junk.

::sigh::

Not the first time I've seen that in the last 14 years.
Probably won't be the last.

I called him over to me.
Most kids would have been embarrassed, then pulled up their pants, then walked over to me.

No on all three of those with Stevie.

He kept hopping. Everyone kept laughing. And for the first time, I saw animation in his face. He'd realized that he had everyone's attention. Pretty sure the idea of being inappropriate was nowhere near his little brain.

Alex came back from the bathroom, so I let the gym door close and crossed the distance between Stevie and the door and stopped him.

"Stevie, pull up your pants right now."

I waited while he complied.

"We do NOT need to see your private parts. Those aren't for anyone else to see. They're called private because they are YOURS. No one else's. I don't want to see you showing your body to anyone while you're here, okay?"

:::blinkblink:::

No answer.
"Do you understand me, Stevie?"

::blinkblink:::

I got an almost imperceptible nod.
Then he grabbed a jump rope and started trying to jump over it.
Hey, at least his pants were still up.