Out of My Mind- ch. 11

[0:00]Chapter 11. Fifth grade started a few weeks ago and a couple of cool things have happened. Well, I didn't get a gadget that makes Garfield like speech bubbles over my head, but I did get an electric wheelchair and our school began something called inclusion classes. I thought that was funny. I've never been included in anything, but these classes are supposed to give kids like me a chance to interact with what everybody else calls the normal students. What's normal? Duh. Comparing my new chair to my old one is like comparing a Mercedes to a skateboard. The wheels are almost like car tires, which makes the ride smooth and easy like riding on pillows. I can't go very fast, but I can propel myself down the hall with just a little lever on the handrail, or if I flip the switch to manual, I can still be pushed if necessary. When Freddy first saw it, he shouted, woohoo, like I'd just won the Indy 500. Me goes zoom zoom now. Wanna race? He spun his own chair in excited circles around me. I'm sure he could beat me even at the subatomic speeds our chairs are set to. My electric chair is a lot heavier than my manual chair and it's almost impossible for mom and dad to lift anywhere. When you decide to switch to a rocket ship for transportation, Dad joked at first, rubbing his back, you're going to need to hire Superman to get it in the car. I grinned, but I know he saw the thanks in my eyes. So we bought a set of portable wheelchair ramps that fold and fit in the back of our SUV. With those, he can roll the new chair into the back of our car and still have back muscles left over. For me, it's all about the freedom. Now I don't have to wait for somebody to move me across the room. I can just go there. Nice. So when they decided to start mainstreaming us into regular classes, the electric chair was really helpful. Our fifth grade teacher in room H5 reminds me of a television grandmother. Mrs. Shannon is pudgy, wears lavender body lotion every single day, and I think she must be from the south because she talks with a real strong draw. Somehow it makes everything she says seem more interesting. She told us on the first day, I'm going to bust a gut making sure y'all get all you can out of this school year. You hear? We're going to read and learn and grow. I believe every one of y'all got potential all stuffed inside, and together we're going to try to make some of that stuff shine. I liked her. She brought in stacks of new books to read to us, as well as games and music and videos. Unlike Mrs. Billups, Mrs. Shannon must have read all our records because she dusted off the headphones and even brought in more books on tape for me. Y'all ready for music class? She asked us one morning. Let's get this inclusion stuff going. I jerked with excitement. As the AIDS helped us down the hall to the music room, I wondered if I'd get to sit next to a regular kid. What if I did something stupid? What if Willie led or Carl farted? Maria was likely to blurt out something crazy. Would this be our only chance? What if we messed this up? I could barely contain myself. We were going to be in a regular classroom. The music teacher, Mrs. Lovelace, had been the first to volunteer to open her class to us. The music room was huge, almost twice as large as our classroom. My hands got sweaty. The kids in there were mostly fifth graders too. They'd probably be surprised to know that I knew all their names. I've watched them on the playground at lunch and at recess for years. My classmates sit under a tree and catch a breeze while they play kickball or tag. So, I know who they are and how they work. I doubted if they knew who any of us by name, though. Well, the whole thing was almost a disaster. Willie, probably upset and scared about being in a new room, started yelping at the top of his lungs. Jill began to cry. She held tightly to the hand grips of her walker and refused to move past the doorway. I wanted to disappear. All of the normal kids in the music class, I guess about 30 of them, turned to stare. Some of them laughed, others looked away, but one girl in the back row crossed her arms across her chest and scaled at her classmates who were acting up. Two girls, Molly and Claire. Everyone knew them because they were mean to almost everybody on the playground, mimicked Willie. They made sure they stayed just out of the teacher's line of sight, but I saw it, so did Willie. Hey Claire, Molly said, twisting her arm above her head and bending her body so it looked crooked. Look at me. I'm a retard. She laughed so hard, she snorted snot. Claire cracked up as well, then let spit dribble out of her mouth, blah, blah, blah, blah. She said, crossing her eyes and pretending to slip out of her chair. Mrs. Lovelace finally noticed them because she sternly said, stand up, please, Claire. I didn't do anything, Claire replied. You stand as well, Molly, Mrs. Lovelace added. We were just laughing, Molly said defensively, but she stood up next to Claire. Mrs. Lovelace took both girls' chair and slid them over to the wall. Why'd you do that? Claire cried out in protest. You have perfectly good bodies and legs that work. Use them, Mrs. Lovelace instructed. You can't make us stand the whole class, Claire moaned. The Board of Education requires that I teach you music. There is nothing in the rulebook that requires you to sit down while I do it. Now stand there and be quiet, or I'll send you to the office for showing disrespect to our guests. They stood in the middle of the third row of chairs where everyone else was seated comfortably. They stood. This teacher is awesome. After that, things went more smoothly. Jill, who had continued to cry, had been taken back to our room by one of the AIDS. The rest of us sat quietly in the back of the room. Mrs. Lovelace began class one more time. I think we need a moment to gather ourselves, children. She sat down at her piano and began to play Moon River, and then she switched to the theme song from one of those new vampire movies. Oh yeah, she knew what we liked. When I started seeing the colors, I knew she was good. Forest green, lime green, emerald. I glanced over at Gloria, instead of sitting all curled up like she usually did, her arms were outstretched like she was trying to catch the music and bring it to her. Her face was almost glowing. I began to sway with the music. Then Mrs. Lovelace completely changed tempo and played the opening notes to take me out to the ball game. Willie clapped his hands wildly. Finally, the teacher started to play boogie Woogie Bugle Boy. Dad would have loved that. Kids started to shimmy in their seats. Maria got up and started dancing. She clapped loudly, never quite on beat, but a rhythm that was all her own. Mrs. Lovelace paused at the end of the song. Music is powerful, my young friends, she said. It can connect us to memories. It can influence our mood and our responses to problems we might face. She cut her eyes at Claire and Molly, who still stood in the empty places where their chairs had been. I wanted to tell Mrs. Lovelace, I liked music too. I wanted to know if she'd ever heard the song Elvira. Or if she would teach us how to make our own music, I tried to raise my hand, but she didn't notice me. It must have looked like just another one of those random movements that kids like me seem to make. But I had a feeling that Mrs. Lovelace was somebody who'd take the time to figure me out. The teacher went on. Before I continue with the lesson, let's make the real inclusion experience. Perhaps our friends from room H5 would like to sit with the rest of us instead of being stuck in the back. Freddy heard that and took his chance. He put his chair in a gear and zoomed to the front of that big room and shouted, I'm Freddy. I like music. I go fast. The class laughed. I can tell the difference between people making fun of us and people being nice to us. Freddy could too, so he joined in the laughter. Mrs. Lovelace looked momentarily startled, then went over to Freddy, shook his hand and welcomed him to the class. She sat him right there in front, next to a boy named Rodney. Rodney gave Freddy a high five and the two of them grinned at each other. Okay, I had to admit, I was jealous. Mrs. Lovelace asked an aid to bring Gloria down from front close to the piano. A girl named Elizabeth glanced at Gloria nervously, but she didn't move away when Gloria was wheeled next to her. Elizabeth's best friend is a girl named Jessica. At recess, they sit together near the fence and share granola bars. I've always wondered what they whisper about. I also noticed that everything Elizabeth does, Jessica tries to outdo. Like if Elizabeth beats her running to the fence, Jessica insists they run again so she can win too. Or if Elizabeth gets a new book bag, Jessica will have a new one the next day. So when Elizabeth started talking to Gloria, who looked terrified, Jessica raised her hand and asked if one of the H5 kids could sit next to her. Maria might have trouble figuring out some stuff, but she's a really friendly person. I want to sit by the blue shirt girl. I want to sit by the blue shirt girl, she demanded. She stopped down to Jessica's seat and sat down next to her. Then she jumped back up and gave Jessica a hug, then gave a hug to the kids sitting closest to Jessica. One kid stiffened up when she touched him, but I was surprised that most of them let her hug them. Molly and Claire, since they were standing, had no choice. Oh, yak, Claire whispered. Cooties, Molly whispered back. Mrs. Lovelace raised her eyebrow, then cleared her throat. It seems you two like to stand. You'll continue to do so the rest of the week. Oh man, this sucks, I heard Claire say. Molly had sense enough to say nothing. Maria didn't notice. She even kissed Claire on the cheek. That was funny. Willie ended up next to a large, friendly boy named Connor. Ashley and Carl were absent that day, so that left me sitting in the back of the classroom by myself. The room got real quiet. I suddenly felt cold, like the air conditioning had been cranked up real high. I got goosebumps. The teacher looked around the room, expectation on her face. I guess hoping that somebody would volunteer to take me. At that moment, I would have given anything to be back in our bluebird room instead of sitting there with 30 kids staring at me. Finally, a girl got up out of her seat and walked over to my chair. She squatted down and looked me directly in the face, then she smiled. It was the girl with the long hair who had frowned at her friends for laughing. I'm Rose, she said, her voice soft. I smiled back and I tried really hard not to kick or grunt or make a noise that would scare her away. I held my breath and thought about calm, quiet things like ocean waves. It worked. I inhaled deeply and slowly, then pointed on my board to, thank you. Rose seemed to understand. I showed her I could power my own chair and I rolled to where she'd been sitting. We sat together for the rest of class and I didn't do a single embarrassing thing. It ended way too soon. But ever since, every Wednesday, our little class of outcast gets to join Mrs. Lovelace's music class. It's awesome. Jill, Ashley and Carl eventually became part of the group. Each one of us has been assigned a buddy to sit next to and interact with. Once they met her, all the girls rushed to be Ashley's buddy. I think it's like playing with a pretty little doll for them, but Ashley seemed to like the attention. Claire and Molly eventually got their chairs returned, but they haven't chosen to be buddies for anybody yet. It's fine with me. Elizabeth and Jessica have stuck with Gloria and Maria. Jill says contentedly next to a girl named Aster Chang. Rodney actually comes over at recess and talks to Freddy. Sometimes he pushes Freddy really fast in his chair. Freddy loves that. And I get to sit with Rose every single Wednesday. On Tuesday, I can hardly sleep because I'm so excited. I make my mother pick out my nicest clothes on Wednesday morning, cool outfits like the other kids wear. I screech at her until she gets it the just the right combination. I make sure she brushes my teeth so my breath won't stink. I think about Rose all the time. I worry that she'll change her mind and not like me. But Rose talks to me like I understand and she tries to figure out what I'm saying as well. One day I pointed to new and shoes and nice on my communication board. Then down to her feet to let her know that I had noticed she got new sneakers and that I liked them. At first, she seemed surprised I could do this, especially since it sometimes takes me a long time to make my thoughts make sense using my board. One day I pointed to music and bad and stinky, then I started laughing. Rose didn't get it at first, so I pointed to the words again, then pointed to Mrs. Lovelace, who was playing some kind of jazz music on the CD player. I'm like mom, not a big jazz fan. It confuses me because it doesn't have a tune. Rose finally figured it out and said, oh, you don't like jazz? Me neither. We both laughed so hard. Mrs. Lovelace had to put her finger to her lips to tell us to hush. Never in my life have I had a teacher tell me to be quiet because I was talking to somebody in class. It was the best feeling in the world. I felt like the rest of the kids.