Looking through different eyes

Richard Robinson, 33, pushes up his glasses and sets down a colored pencil at Central Oregon Resources for Independent Living (CORIL) on the east side of town. 

“I’ve been here for five, six years,” Robinson said matter-of-factly.

There is usually work for the 62 clients here, but today is a slow day and Robinson and his friends watch a children’s show and color workbook pages as they talk with me. 

“I like arts and crafts, class and my politics. I went to see Barack Obama in person at your school. I’m enjoying myself.” Robinson smiled, folding his hands neatly. He worked on the now-President’s campaign and is very excited to see Obama’s economic plan.

The room is full of people who get work from CORIL, but this center stands out; the clients, including Robinson, are all mentally handicapped.

discovery

I discovered CORIL around this time last year in the midst of rehearsals for “The Boys Next Door,” a show focusing on the lives of mentally handicapped people. We came as a cast for character research and all nine of us fell in love. 

“I was in a movie called ‘The Postman’ and I was waving to Kevin Costner in the beginning of it,” Robinson said proudly when I mentioned that I was an actress, pushing up his glasses again.  He is absolutely infectious. 

I feel so lucky to have the opportunity to come here and spend a little bit of time with these awesome people. 

After the visit, we all worked hard to portray characters that were true to life and realistic. Rehearsals for the show became something a little more serious. 

We all realized that this was the only time some audience members would get to spend time with the mentally challenged, and I know I spent hours on my character, trying to make her heartfelt and innocent.

I vividly remember being backstage at intermission during one of the matinee shows, rushing around and finding costume pieces. 

Then I saw someone who was not involved in the show– a life skills teacher with one hand on the arm of a mentally handicapped boy. Something caught in my throat as I realized the implications of who was watching me. 

The life skills teacher smiled at the few of us who were backstage and I thought I saw a tear in her eye. 

I have no idea who she is or what school she works with, but I do remember her saying  that she and her students were enjoying the show, and thank you to us for the light we are shedding on how human these people are – and that is the important thing.

I can say that those who do not think and talk like us are like us just the same. They fall in love, they have problems with family members, rely on people, have incredible talent, passions and annoyances and deal with the challenges life hands them in their own ways. 

They are perhaps more alive then most of us will ever be.

In the show, there is a character who has the mental capacity of a five year old. In a monologue that had many of us backstage in tears every night, Lucien P. Smith speaks straight to the audience eloquently and intelligently in a dream. 

“I am retarded. I am damaged. I am sick inside from so many years of confusion… utter and profound confusion,” he said. 

“…But I will not wither because the cage is  too small. Societies are judged by the way they treat their most helpless of citizens. I am that citizen. And if you turn away from me, you extinguish your own light, deny your own warmth. I am Lucien Percival Smith: a simple man, but simply a man.” 

A magical thing would happen in the audience just then, something that every actor wants to have happen while they perform. 

The teenagers dragged to the show would look up from texting, audience members would stop whispering about the show to each other. For a second before a thunderous round of applause, you could hear a pin drop.   

Since the show, some of us have pushed these lessons we hope we taught others to the backs of our minds. 

Some of us, however, used the play as a stepping off point to make a difference in the community. 

Jake Thompson, a fellow cast member who attends Bend Senior High School, is actively involved with the life skills program at his school and I have become interested in a career as a social worker. 

another visit

I went back eagerly to CORIL to find that magic again. Social worker Martha works with the more severely disabled men and women that come here for educational enrichment, and I admire her deeply. 

Many of them cannot talk and they do not work, but their personalities shine. “Joey likes to hum,” she explained as Joey rocked back and forth slowly, flipped through a phone book and would not meet anyone’s eye. 

“He’s come a long way,” she said. “We take trips to Healing Reins and he walks around with some of the horses there.” 

I leaned forward, interested. “Joey, do you like horses?” 

He still said nothing, but he stopped rocking and humming for a minute to give me a huge, lopsided smile. 

“That’s cool!” I gave him a thumbs up and he turned his attention back to the phone book. 

A childlike gleam lights their eyes when they describe work or their friends and they vie for attention.

Martha, the social worker, introduced me to a nonverbal man named TJ. “He has the most wonderful smile. He encourages us to show up every day.” She said. 

Many of the clientele went to high school in Bend; Robinson graduated from Bend High in 1994.  

And special education programs have come a long way since the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) was passed in 1990. IDEA provides free, appropriate public education to children ages two to 21 with disabilities, regardless of handicap that affects mental performance. 

The Bend LaPine Schools are very involved with providing care to those with mental challenges, and CORIL is there to help people after graduation become productive citizens in the community. 

The center provides mentally challenged people with minimum wage work from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. daily. Work is integrated with numerous activities and opportunities such as skills training and counseling. 

On this particular day, several of the clients attended a class on basketball and we played a rousing game of hangman to review the game’s vocabulary.

The center has several partnerships in the community. Many clients are especially enthusiastic about swimming at Juniper Swim and Fitness Center twice a week. The Bend Park  and Recreation District takes them on hikes; Healing Reins, a therapeutic horse ranch, often hosts field trips; the Opportunity Foundation thrift store employs chiefly people with some kind of mental disability. 

reaching out

“It’s all about integrating these guys into society,” said work center manager Mike Smith. In addition to these activities, weekly pot lucks and picnics offer an opportunity to meet new people, and, as the company’s website says, “every day there is growth.” 

“I  meet a lot of friends,” said Robinson of the pot lucks. 

Sometimes, though, all of this is not enough. Sometimes, we need to step in and show a little bit of love. 

Maura, a young  woman with a bright smile as well as an affinity for showing anyone her tricks (army crawl and crab walking among them), confided in me while I interviewed her. “I felt kind of dumb in my science class, because I was the only one who needed a lot of help,” she said. 

I would like to think that, would I have been there, I would have helped her as much as I could and encouraged her to keep going. 

It is a very personal experience to be at CORIL; just talking to the people makes them feel important. 

After I was done talking to Cathy, which she took very seriously (at one point we were obliged to go outside so that she could talk without being distracted, at her wishes), she said, “Thank you, I’m very happy.”

I am not looking to change the world. It is the little things, like a smile or a kind word, that can make all the difference. 

Just remember that when you say something is retarded, you are saying that it is just like Richard Robinson or Maura or Lucien P. Smith. Should their way of life be used as an insult?

That day at CORIL opened my eyes to what is really out there. Tolerance is not just about race, gender or sexual orientation, although that is what gets the (still deserved) attention.