Running for the Hills

For three decades I dwelled in a suburban town contentedly working for the town and rearing my Daughter. The suburban setting never appealed to me but it was ideal for a custodial parent and an independent child. She could safely wander the neighborhood, ride her bike "downtown" or take the local bus to the Mall. As she became a teen my concerns of her being out at night were not new urban panic but more in line with mid-century boys with cars.

Before I settled in the burbs I had lived and worked in Manhattan. Working with multiply-disabled in a residential /training facility taught me more than I taught the clients. After a classic Ivory Tower education and a degree in Philosophy, I needed to learn about the real essence of  humanity. My clients had none of the intellectual graces or social refinements which I'd been told were the hallmarks of character. Oh, they were characters! They were interesting unique people, full of individuality, often possessing great personal charm and in some cases really good company. One fellow would take the subway uptown to watch ballgames and play cards with my Husband. He won most of his hands, too.

My specializations in working with clients became designing behavior modification and language acquisition programs and assisting with recreational and occupation therapy. My clients were admittedly difficult personalities and forget rational discussions about moderate behavior. The behavior modification techniques I learned to work with my clients also worked very well with your more standard issue children. Normal bouncy children need to be on-task and goal-oriented too. Relatives would comment that my Daughter had no chance, no chance at all of breaking bad. [She did, I can assure you, but she was never really BAD.]  Furthermore, dealing with the more adversarial and unbalanced clients prepared me for government work. After many years of small-town politics I can only state that politicians have better social skills but are no more rational than the residents of Manhattan Development Centers.
 
Lastly, I learned patience. When you spend days training someone how to hold a button or restraining them from bashing themselves into a cinder block wall, live is put into perspective and you begin to experience each moment on it's own. A tenet of Judaic philosophy is that each day should be like a pearl, your life like a string of pearls. Acceptance of the passage of time is embodied here. The patience I learned from the intellectually stunted helped me pass 30 years in the suburbs. To pass my time I practiced occupational and recreational therapy on myself, teaching myself one handcraft after another. While my nerves were fraying, my hands were becoming adept. Recognizing that the bustle of the city was no longer the best place for me, I found a cottage in the mountains, just a train ride from my home town. Here I shall stay patiently refining my artisan skills, designing and making crafts.