Willard had had a rough life.
In addition to his given middle name (Fillmore), he had numerous life-obstacles
His sister and he had been removed from their home at a very early age for abuse and neglect. Several attempts to reunify the siblings with their mother had been unsuccessful. He had been in and out of numerous foster homes and had been separated from his sister. He had a marginal IQ, and multiple emotional problems.
He also had Tourette’s syndrome.
He came to KDS when he was 12. He was out of control. Willard’s Tourette’s manifested itself in a variety of ways. One was in making crude and sexually explicit comments. Another was in various ticks, head motions, vocal clicks and gestures. When he was very upset he would “snake” to and on the floor. He would arch his back and neck, stick out his tongue and make some howling noises. It was as if his entire body suddenly became double jointed. He was difficult to pick up and move.
In PE he would attempt to play basket ball, however, his shoes would fly-off (no matter how tight they were tied.) He could not make his eyes focus on the ball and he would often get thumped in the head.
He wore glasses, but he had a difficult time keeping them on his face. His head would jerk to the side and his glasses would fly across the room. He could read, but sometimes his head would not cooperate. It just wouldn’t look at the book.
We tried many medications to help him, but he would display negative side affects within the first week (Tardis Dyskinesia and a general tilting of his whole body to the right.)
On one fateful day I was in my office during PE time. I heard the door open, some scuffling, and some mostly incoherent (but partially profane) words.
The female aide who brought him to me was red faced. “Mr. Geil, we can’t take it anymore today with his…comments. We need a break.” I knew it must have been bad because those aides were tough and had heard it all. For Willard to get under their skin that badly, he must have been on his “A” game.
Willard was screaming and crying. I had a good relationship with Willard so I decided just to keep him in my office and attempt to talk to him rather than get him down to the Time-Out Room, which would be an ordeal.
He went to the student desk in the corner of my room and started screaming. He grabbed the sides and flung it back and forth. Usually I could take this for quite a while, but I really had some things to fill out and I needed to think.
I went to the desk and said (pretty gently), “Come on Willard, I know you’re upset. I hear you screaming and crying, but let’s bring it down a little and when you’re ready well talk we’ll talk. I’m not mad, I’m just asking you to start bringing it down.” At that he started “snaking” out of the desk and then “snaking” back up again.
I put my hands on the right and left sides of the desk. I never touched Willard, I just held on to his desk so it wouldn’t jump and slide around.
Willard started screaming over and over, “bloodymurderbloodymurderbloodymurderbloodymurderbloodymurderbloodymurderbloodymurderbloodymurderbloodymurderbloodymurderbloodymurderbloodymurderbloodymurderbloodymurderbloodymurder.”
This went on and on. I was stuck. But then it hit me:
He’s screaming “Bloody Murder”
He is literally SCREAMING BLOODY MURDER!
It was awesome. I was waiting for anyone to come by and hear him. I was looking for the janitor, the financial lady across the hall, anyone. “Hey listen! BLOODY MURDER. Get it? SCREAMING BLOODY MURDER!”
Alas, Willard finally calmed down.
We talked. We hugged. He did some write-offs, gave an apology, and went back to class.
That was kind of a fun day.
chris
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