Chapter Three
AFTER SCHOOL ACTIVITIES
It was our doctor
that suggested that we enrol Charles in an out-of- school activity to help with his social
skills. So we decided to try our local Scouts and Beavers group who said they
were prepared to help. Even though I was worried about the other children
making fun of him I decided to give Beavers a try.
I stayed for a few
weeks in a back room while the leaders got to know him and to make sure he
settled in okay. When the time was right I was told I could go home for the
hour due to Charles coping well and him enjoying his freedom. The thing was it
became difficult for me to let go and leave him there while I went home. For
weeks I would leave the building and just sit in the car for the whole hour
making sure the leaders were keeping an eye on him. I questioned them about the
security of the building; would he be able to escape? I told them if they went
on a trip then someone must hold his hand at all times because if something
caught Charles’ eye, he’d be off - there would be no stopping him. I thought I
was getting paranoid and I had started to notice frowns from other,
unsympathetic mothers.
A few weeks after
Charles had settled in, the leader of the Beavers club asked me whether he
could take part in the East Birmingham Gang Show, an all singing and dancing
performance on stage. I was informed there would be lots of rehearsals and I
was reassured that he would be taken care of and he would probably be able to
gain great deal from it - providing, of course, Charles wanted to take part.
Again it put me in a spin and I was mortified and refused out right. I was so
angry they’d even suggested it. I raised all my concerns about the place being
absolutely packed with people and that there’d be too much noise for him to
cope with. I had visions of him running on stage like a whirlwind and careering
through the stage props. That’s only if, on the night of the performance, they
actually got him on stage! And if they did, what would happen if he just threw
a wobbly in front of all those people? I felt sick! I just said no and went
home. Charles was upset that he couldn’t do the show but I tried to explain
that it would be for the best.
Luckily for both
of us the leaders didn’t give up and sent one of their chiefs to have a word
with me and explained that they had a lot of experience with special needs children.
He explained exactly what would happen on the night and how long they would be
on stage and who would be with Charles throughout the evening. He finally
convinced me to give my son a chance to experience the joy of being with other
children, as a team, on stage. It was made clear that if for one minute Charles
changed his mind, or it looked remotely possible he couldn’t cope – or, as I’d
put, ‘it threw a wobbly’, then I was assured he wouldn’t have to do it.
The evening came
and off Charles trotted (well actually, they trotted, Charles raced!) with all
the other children to get ready for the performance. I sat in the coffee area
while all the other parents gathered and chatted excitedly before being called
through to the great hall. By now my throat was tightening, my heart was
pounding and beads of sweat trickled off my brow. I was half regretting what
I’d done. Surely this should be
fun, I thought. Isn’t this where moms are supposed to feel proud? Is this the
way the rest of our life together will be, me constantly being on tenterhooks
for him? Why was I feeling like this? Why was all this happening to us?
The curtains
opened and the tension in the hall was electrifying; everyone started
clapping. I felt
at that very moment like the walls were closing in on me, and I wanted to make
a run for it. I think I might have done if I could have got past all the
mountain of legs. It was too late. The music started and first on stage were
the Scouts singing, then someone dressed as Henry V111 reciting a monologue. It
felt like an entirety before the Beavers were introduced. Eventually, one by
one they came on, each dressed as Tigger from Winnie the Pooh. Each one
bouncing across the stage with homemade spring tails and their faces painted
orange and black, blasting out, ‘The Wonderful Thing about Tiggers’,
and there stood my Charles, full of enthusiasm, singing his little heart out,
his face beaming while straining his neck to see if he could see me in the crowd.
He held tightly onto one of the leaders’ hands and looked straight up into his
face for praise… and got it. The children continued to bounce around the stage
twice more before bouncing their way off again.
‘See, he was
fine,’ one of the leaders whispered in my ear.
Tears streamed
down my face. How proud was I! I was worn out from all the excitement but
clapped as loud as the next person, feeling as though a weight had been lifted.
For me, this evening had given me hope and faith and made me realise that with
the right kind of people anything’s possible!
Then on the 18th
of June 2006, at the age of eight years, Charles joined in with the BT Guinness
world record sleepover event for fun and fund raising, where the record attempt
for the largest number of people simultaneously brushing their teeth was
happening. It was his first time away from home and he really enjoyed it. It
was after this event that Charles became really interested in staying away from
home and wanted to do more, especially when camps were talked about. This is
when he got more involved with 287th Cubs and Scout groups achieving
silver and gold awards. Mind you it wasn’t all plain sailing.
Charles moved up to Cubs in 2008 at the age of
nine. One camp in particular didn’t start off too well.
My husband, Charles and I arrived at camp and
were taken to one side by one of the leaders. They said if Charles performed
and got too out of hand on this trip then we would have to come and pick him
up. I was a little surprised at this statement, as nothing had been mentioned before
about his behaviour, but apparently since the Easter break(six weeks ago!), Charles
has been getting over- excited and rough with other children.
I felt devastated. Why didn’t they discuss this
with me earlier so that I could have dealt with the situation then? Two months
ago, when I was asked whether Charles was coming to camp, I was made to feel
like an over-protective mother. One of the leaders husband had said,
‘Are you going to let Charles come on camp? We
have got 23 years’ experience, you know!
We promise we won’t let him run loose over Cannock chase!’
I didn’t find the comment funny, but I didn’t
want to hold Charles back either, so I let him go.
Then having been confronted that morning made
me extremely upset and I felt that my child was now a burden and liability to
them.
I walked away. I felt sick, hurt and my heart
felt heavy at the thought of someone not wanting my child.
Charles had rushed up to everyone so excited
when he arrived, including people he didn’t even know. He greeted them, shouted
and squealed with delight. Most of the parents just stared back at him, as
though he had two heads, unsure, certainly unwilling to answer him. My husband pulled
me away as my temper rose.
Why didn’t they just suggest that they would
try three days on camp with Charles and see how he coped, instead of waiting
until the morning of camp and knock all the enthusiasm out of it? As upset and
angry as I was, I knew I had to walk away because Charles would have thought he
had done something wrong and would be heartbroken if he knew I was upset. The
thing that amazed me the most was the fact that they knew, or were supposed to
know, that when Charles was anxious he would get louder and more excitable.
Then on the flip side, if he was happy and calm, he would skip everywhere,
backwards and forwards, humming to himself.
The car journey home was a silent one. My head
pounded. Once home I had some tablets and went to bed.
We waited patiently over the next few days for
the dreaded phone call, but nothing! It
turned out he had actually won an award for best-behaved camper.
I was so glad he had proven them all wrong, but
most importantly, he enjoyed himself and even though we had had this blip in
communication I was not going to let it deter me, as the experiences Charles
was having were phenomenal. Over the years he earned himself activity badges,
outward bound badges, personal badges, Chief Scouts Silver and Gold awards, all
of which helped him with team work, social, interactive and co-ordination
skills, and helping him develop his independence. There was a range of sewing,
model-making and cooking, as well as many outdoor games.
The outward bound badges consisted of putting
tents up and down. Well, I think he watched other people do that most of the
time, whilst he wandered off aimlessly- or so I was told, because if something
was taking too long he’d be off. He
enjoyed joining in with the making and lighting of the camp fires (that was a
little worrying), singing into the night and dressing up to get into the spirit
of things. He walked an eight-mile hike and tried his hand at canoeing,
abseiling and crate stacking; the list was endless. And it wasn’t just about
the excitement of going on the trips; they had to raise the funds to go. Before
any camp trip, children would have to give up as much of their free time on a
Saturday or Sunday in a supermarket to bag pack for the public to help raise cash
to go.
Watching Charles bag pack was an experience in
itself. He almost demanded the general public to let him pack their bags. Some
looked too worried to say no, and then whilst they stood there with their
mouths open, staring, Charles had packed the bag and was holding out the fund
bucket!
As he got older and joined Explorers, he took
part in his second Gang Show. This time he was a lot more involved and was very
excited by the theatrical performance. The hours the production team and cast
(all volunteers), put in is incredible, on stage and behind the scenes.
Charles practised for five hours every Sunday
for six months. Then when the time came he did seven performances over a week.
He sang, danced and had a small part playing Darth Vader from Star Wars.
It was a full house and on the first evening he
objected to having make-up put on, lost his pumps and changed his clothes for a
performance a scene too early. He was mortified at that; he dashed back stage
and changed quickly whilst throwing his arms in the air, shouting,
‘How could I have got it all so wrong? Six
months wasted!’
Always the drama Queen!
Bless him, he did calm down eventually and
things did return to normal - well, our normal, anyway.
He couldn’t wait to get on stage and get his
hands on the microphone, insisting on improvising and adding a few words of his
own, much to the annoyance of his co performers because it kept completely
throwing them off.
As each night went by the more Charles grew in
confidence. He regularly came off skipping and humming!
It was a fantastic achievement for Charles and
one I’m glad he continued with.
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