Music Through the Floor
Stories
Children of God
The ad said they needed someone to model "patterns of survival." At the interview, a woman with an E.T. poster on her door told me about the job. "You'd be working at their house," she said, "taking care of two clients with special needs."
I couldn't even take care of myself, but I needed a job. "Are they retarded?"
"Okay, yeah. We don't say that anymore." She coaxed herself out of a frown, in a way that suggested I was the only candidate. "There's a new name: developmentally disabled."
They gave me a new name, too: Community Living Instructor. This was in Portland, Oregon. I started working at a home for people who couldn't tie their shoes, helping two grown men get through the day.
Jason was worse off. At twenty-eight, he was afflicted with so many diseases that his med ... read full excerpt from Music Through the Floor ebook