“Who’s in My Brain?”

This question was posed to me by a student with an autism diagnosis. He had been nearly completely non-verbal for most of his young life, warehoused in public schools. He arrived in my classroom last August, demonstrating a strong willingness to learn and expressive personality.

There were the stereotypic motions and utterances of randomness. There were moments of false agreement and short answers. When presented with a math book, sparks flew. This young man worked on problem after problem. It was the gateway needed to opening a teacher/learner relationship.

We began working on reading. Again, he took to the task and learned. After two months, he was sounding out basic words, remembering Dolch words, and responding to comprehension questions. Responses became nearly instantaneous and very accurate.

One day about four months into our process, a reading comprehension question that required decoding and inference caused him to ask a very beautiful question. He asked, “who’s in my brain?” What caused him to ask that? What were the cognative processes that created this moment? It’s lead me to a lot of reflection of my own.

GodWas

I’ve just come back from the cosmic crossroads
with a message for us all
after waiting nearly forever
the maker came along
in a tie-dyed leisure jumpsuit
live music pumping all around
In his band - two Buddies,
Chuck and Ludwig shared a seat
Zevon played conductor
and Ella announced the tunes
at the end of the opus
he turned and spoke to me
saying “tell them I’m not coming. 
It really is a choice
when I left, it was all perfect
a balanced  spinning globe
and just because you fouled
playing evil in my name
don’t mean I’m gonna fix it.
In fact, that thought is fucking lame.”
Just then his boy yelled, “Dad, 
we gotta rock and roll!”
The father said, “excuse me, now
we”ll catch up later on.
The band is really cooking.
Took a long time to get together
and shit gets really good
When Mozart wears his leather.”