Whatever He Says

By Belinda During the almost ten years of our lives in which we lived together with a large (by the standards of what would be thought acceptable today) group of people with developmental disabilities; their personalities, quirks, strengths, foibles and sheer uniqueness, affected my life forever. I remember each one with deep affection and respect, for each one, by virtue of the fact that they came to us having been institutionalized, had lived with emotional pain, degradation, humiliation, lack of privacy and freedom. Abe died in the nineties, some ten years after the ten years we lived together, but our lives had continued together until then, and he is one of my life teachers.  He was a Jew, a short, intense and wiry man, with a sallow skin and piercing brown eyes that were usually serious in expression. He was prone to conversations with himself and long walks during which he could be spotted rubbing the palms of his hands together in excitement over some private thought....

By Belinda It was just over a week since the last meeting of the Anger Management-Peace Like a River Group . The  stormy weather  upstairs, that led to the founding of the group seemed much more settled.  One of the group members asked yesterday morning, when were we going to meet again, and if the book  (recommended by our friend Dave)  had arrived yet. I said it hadn't, but I was sure it would be here soon and we'd meet then.  But as I moved something in the piles around my desk yesterday; as if it were meant to be; from somewhere they had been hiding unseen for several months, and so long that I had forgotten them, I found pages from a training, that happened to be about extreme behaviour.  The pages were an Anger Diary and Inventory--perfect tools to spark a discussion at more than one session.  So this morning as soon as I arrived at work, I went upstairs, knocked on the door, interrupting a fine breakfast of French toast; with an inv...

By Belinda This is a reworked post from the archives--to help me over a busy time, but also because it is timely! My memory has a special room where teachers of long ago live. I wonder if they ever imagined such immortality. They are frozen in time in my mind. I can see, hear and feel them vividly; their appearance and personality. Maybe it's that the mind, eyes and heart of a child are like sponges that absorb impressions and hold onto them more easily than they do in later years! Teachers all seemed old to my child's mind; even those whom I now realize must have been relatively young. But one who didn't seem old at all was a white haired supply teacher who filled the gap when I was in my last year of elementary school. I can see now that inside this teacher, lived the heart of a child, and we instinctively connected with her. We didn't see the outer shell of a teacher near retirement age, we just saw her soul, She read to us from a book I had never heard of be...

Proverbs 2:6 (New International Version) 6 For the LORD gives wisdom, and from his mouth come knowledge and understanding. Yesterday, on my post about teachers, there were some wonderful reflective comments and I loved them all. Two of them took the time to remember teachers too: Brave Raven with humour, and Susan with poignancy. I hope they don't mind, but I would like to share them for today's post. Brave Raven said... Aaah, teachers. I too have some unforgettable ones: Mrs. Foy and Mrs. Elliot who taught me to speak English; Mr. Blake who called me up after a poetry assignment and said, "You should do this for a living;" Mr. Finn, who told me no matter what I did, I'd be a success. Hmmmm. I hope I never run into these people. They would wonder what happened and probably blame themselves. HA HA. Then, there was a Grade Five. Horrific Grade Five. Her breasts were so pointy that we were convinced they were made of plastic. I'll never forget one boy E...