Summer Camp
I've been on the dole for over six months now. Of course this is nothing new due to my rather hilarious work history that took a severe nose dive about ten years ago, but this is the world we live in now. When one's been kicked in the ribs multiple times, aside from what it does to your physical and mental health, one has to face a lot of humility and say that one must make certain adjustments. Suddenly it's tightening the belt and not trying to spend on things that you used to so frivolously before, realizing that it's not about the worst thing that could ever happen to you (and suddenly you realize maybe it was), and having a new change set into one's mind that you didn't think was going to happen. In the quest to make something happen for myself, I decided to look for a summer job.
Summer jobs are, like their name suggests, are seasonal employment opportunities, usually catering to those between the ages of sixteen and twenty one during their high school or college summer breaks. They are usually part time, pay minimum wage, and are either labor intensive or clerical depending on the setting. I'd had summer jobs past of course. They were during my lifeguarding days at the local public swimming pool and another private pool long since disappeared and babysitting (technically I suppose). The closest I had ever come to fast food was when I worked concessions and ushering at a movie theater, even though the food served at movie theaters was not the same type you would encounter at McDonalds. Two things remain as oddities from that job to this day: This was the summer of Jurassic Park, the first in the trilogy which was a good film while the other two were just chase movies. We, the ushering staff, had to go in an pick up the trash from the movie goers once the audience left. Movie theaters are one of the few public places left where people think nothing of littering, as they know that the litter will be picked up. While no unusual situation remains from the trash collection, the ending score of Jurassic Park was forever burned into my mind while we collected. The second oddity was that during this time, the summer of 93, movie theater concessions was beginning to diversify their food selections from the standard of popcorn, candy and soft drinks into the more upscale choices one finds today. Some of the choices offered at that time were understandable, such as nachos instead of popcorn, ice cream bars instead of candy, or flavored teas or bottled water instead of Pepsi (because we were a Pepsi theater). These remain today, but one thing I could not figure out how or why that was offered were pickles. There was a ten gallon plastic container of them, floating in dill brine, sitting there, which were fished out with tongs and given to customers wrapped in cellophane at $3 a pop. People bought them, and I have no idea to this day why. Because they were there, I guess. But I digress ...
So I went into this new prospect with a lot of fear, being that I have had my questionable history as I have a questionable character as it seems, as well as with the type of students I had before me. I was with an organization that assists adults and children who suffer from mental retardation and developmental disabilities. The summer program is for ages three through twenty two who will be cared for around other individuals who suffer from the same conditions. During the summer months, as with all kids, many tend to stray due to the lack of stimulation and structure that they get during the year and this provided them with just that. I admit, I was afraid coming in. At the interview they more or less said that they were desperate for help and were taking anyone who said yes, I said I am desperate for work and will therefore say yes. It was actually more enjoyable than I thought it would be. The ones who are obviously mentally retarded are actually passive types. They sit in their chairs, rock on occasion, and are pretty much content with the world around them. They have moods and personalities just like everyone else. At different points you can attempt to do things with them (teach basic shapes, color recognition, instruct on the basic schedule of events going on for the day, etc.), but many were not capable of even these elementary tasks. Mostly they just play with toys all day. The autistic ones are handfuls, as they tend to be the biters, hitters, screamers, etc. and are unable to communicate their wants/needs to others. I was happy to make a breakthrough with one of them, but aside from that not much can be done about them. The ones with physical handicaps were off in a separate room which I did not have much contact with and did not witness much in terms of their wants/needs, although I would imagine it was far more limited.
One thing that really bothered me about the situation was that those with developmental disabilities were put into the wayside. Some who suffered from ADD should not be in the same room as a mentally retarded person or vice versa. Those who had behavioral problems may grow out of certain things, some who have mental illnesses should seek the correct care and treatment, some have rather horrible home lives. But, like everything else, we ... Get by. Life is complicated.
And yet, this also gave me a lot of joy in helping others too. It was just fun time rather than what we would be doing during the regular year, but otherwise it was actually a good time. Many of them are/were handfuls, many were beyond help. But it was a job, and it was income, and it was a good time. That's as much as you can ask for anything anymore.
Summer jobs are, like their name suggests, are seasonal employment opportunities, usually catering to those between the ages of sixteen and twenty one during their high school or college summer breaks. They are usually part time, pay minimum wage, and are either labor intensive or clerical depending on the setting. I'd had summer jobs past of course. They were during my lifeguarding days at the local public swimming pool and another private pool long since disappeared and babysitting (technically I suppose). The closest I had ever come to fast food was when I worked concessions and ushering at a movie theater, even though the food served at movie theaters was not the same type you would encounter at McDonalds. Two things remain as oddities from that job to this day: This was the summer of Jurassic Park, the first in the trilogy which was a good film while the other two were just chase movies. We, the ushering staff, had to go in an pick up the trash from the movie goers once the audience left. Movie theaters are one of the few public places left where people think nothing of littering, as they know that the litter will be picked up. While no unusual situation remains from the trash collection, the ending score of Jurassic Park was forever burned into my mind while we collected. The second oddity was that during this time, the summer of 93, movie theater concessions was beginning to diversify their food selections from the standard of popcorn, candy and soft drinks into the more upscale choices one finds today. Some of the choices offered at that time were understandable, such as nachos instead of popcorn, ice cream bars instead of candy, or flavored teas or bottled water instead of Pepsi (because we were a Pepsi theater). These remain today, but one thing I could not figure out how or why that was offered were pickles. There was a ten gallon plastic container of them, floating in dill brine, sitting there, which were fished out with tongs and given to customers wrapped in cellophane at $3 a pop. People bought them, and I have no idea to this day why. Because they were there, I guess. But I digress ...
So I went into this new prospect with a lot of fear, being that I have had my questionable history as I have a questionable character as it seems, as well as with the type of students I had before me. I was with an organization that assists adults and children who suffer from mental retardation and developmental disabilities. The summer program is for ages three through twenty two who will be cared for around other individuals who suffer from the same conditions. During the summer months, as with all kids, many tend to stray due to the lack of stimulation and structure that they get during the year and this provided them with just that. I admit, I was afraid coming in. At the interview they more or less said that they were desperate for help and were taking anyone who said yes, I said I am desperate for work and will therefore say yes. It was actually more enjoyable than I thought it would be. The ones who are obviously mentally retarded are actually passive types. They sit in their chairs, rock on occasion, and are pretty much content with the world around them. They have moods and personalities just like everyone else. At different points you can attempt to do things with them (teach basic shapes, color recognition, instruct on the basic schedule of events going on for the day, etc.), but many were not capable of even these elementary tasks. Mostly they just play with toys all day. The autistic ones are handfuls, as they tend to be the biters, hitters, screamers, etc. and are unable to communicate their wants/needs to others. I was happy to make a breakthrough with one of them, but aside from that not much can be done about them. The ones with physical handicaps were off in a separate room which I did not have much contact with and did not witness much in terms of their wants/needs, although I would imagine it was far more limited.
One thing that really bothered me about the situation was that those with developmental disabilities were put into the wayside. Some who suffered from ADD should not be in the same room as a mentally retarded person or vice versa. Those who had behavioral problems may grow out of certain things, some who have mental illnesses should seek the correct care and treatment, some have rather horrible home lives. But, like everything else, we ... Get by. Life is complicated.
And yet, this also gave me a lot of joy in helping others too. It was just fun time rather than what we would be doing during the regular year, but otherwise it was actually a good time. Many of them are/were handfuls, many were beyond help. But it was a job, and it was income, and it was a good time. That's as much as you can ask for anything anymore.
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