Tal

Tal is a student who has never been in my class. However, I’ve known him for over seven years now. He’s one of those kids who gives me high fives when we cross paths in the hall. Tal has very significant intellectual disabilities. He also has Downs Syndrome. It’s a funny thing with Downs Syndrome. Some folks with it have only mild intellectual impairments, while others truly struggle. Tal struggles. Tal is also significantly overweight. I’m not sure if packing on extra pounds is part of Downs Syndrome or if added weight comes from the medications he takes. You see, many people with Downs have poorly developed hearts and lungs. It’s common for many to be on a regimen of steroids to help their lungs function as well as they can. Needless to say, steroids can cause very significant weight gain.

I have no idea where Tal’s girth comes from, but he is a big boy. Even when he was in the elementary school section of Hartvigsen School, he was big. If he decided he wasn’t going to do something, he was quick to plop down, defying anyone in authority to just try and sling him over their shoulders to get him from point A to point B. When Tal decided not to budge, it became clear in a hurry who was in control of the situation.

One Friday I walked into the lunchroom only to see a group of long-time staff members cajoling Tal. He had planted himself confidently under one of the lunch tables. He wasn’t going anywhere. Tensions were rising because it was less than a half hour until it was time for him to get on the bus to go home. Those poor women were trying every threat they could think of to get him to move.

“Tal, if you don’t get out from under there right now, you won’t get any chocolate milk for a week.”

“You get yourself up from there this instant. You’re going to find yourself doing laps the whole time when you go swimming next.”

One of the ladies turned to me.

“Tom, can you see if you can get him out from under there?”

“Well,” I whined rather in protest, “he doesn’t really know me. I don’t think I can do much more than you guys are doing.”

I didn’t feel like I had the time. If I remember right, one of my own students had just pooped his pants. He is the only person I’ve ever known who could poop on demand. He did it frequently just before it was time to get on the bus. My guy seemed to have the compelling need to be in control, too.

A couple of my staff members were taking care of our little forest fire, so I didn’t have to get in the middle of that particular mess. I went back to the lunchroom to see if I could lend a hand after all. I got there just in time to see Phil, one of the staff, raise his hands in that sort of “Whoa, stop” gesture:

“Ladies, ladies. Go back to your classes. I’ll get Tal up and going here in a minute.”

“Phil, don’t you dare cave in to him. You are just too soft. Tal needs to learn who’s in charge.”

“I’ve got it, ladies. Don’t worry.”

I stepped back into my classroom for a couple of minutes, but I had to go back to the lunchroom to see how Phil was going to handle this.

There was Phil, sitting with Tal under the table carrying on a one sided conversation. Tal didn’t talk much. He just grunted once in a while and smiled a lot.

“What do you think, Tal? Is it going to be a great weekend?”

That garnered a big grin and a grunt.

“What’s say I walk you to the bus. Can I sit with you on the bus until the bus driver kicks me off?’

Another grunt and a big belly laugh.

Phil slides into a mock Chicago gangster accent, speculating how the driver will kick him off the bus.

“Hey, Phil. You’se needs to get offa my ride, or I’m gonna make ya wear some concrete over shoes.”

Another big laugh from Tal as he and Phil walk out of the lunch room, hand in hand. The last I see of Tal that day is him sitting with Phil on the bus laughing at Phil’s antics.

Let’s see now. Who was in charge? Well, Tal, of course. He was always in charge of himself and the situation. Phil just worked his magic to help Tal move in the direction he really wanted to go in the first place. I really think Tal wanted to go home as badly as everyone else that afternoon. He just needed to be given the chance to show it and to do it on his own.