We all wait in checkout lines; most of us quietly move forward until it is time to pay; maybe a few remarks to the cashier or the box boy or even to those immediately near; for the most part people keep to themselves. Not Kelton. If the line is long and slow, Kelton doesn’t hesitate to begin the inquisition. “Where did you graduate? What sports were you in? Do you know ‘so-and-so’? Did you know that my dad looks like Nathan Blueberg from Nooksack? Yaah, I collect key chains. I have 6,481. Do you collect anything? We have the worst football team. Did you know” . . .
I used to try to discourage him from talking or questioning strangers. Not any more. It is futile. Now, I go with the flow; try to enjoy the ride. It’s a challenge that requires a special set of skills that I have developed over the years, but mostly it’s falling into a hypnotic state and having a sort of “out-of-body” experience while remembering the details of using a debit card.
When there are multiple checkout lines, ours is often the most colorful. Once in a while, I can’t help sensing there is some “checkout-line envy” in the neighboring lines. I’ve come to appreciate “good” checkout banter, even if it is mostly by one enthusiastic young man. There is the benefit of being in line again with the same purchasers: “Don’t you collect key chains?”
“Yes, how did you know? Do I know you?”
“You told me last time we were here. We were in the same line.”
“Oh. I collect bobble heads, too.”
“Really?”
Then it begins again.
I’ll just tell one story, mostly in its entirety. We were in a crowded Costco. In line of course. There were many lines and they were all long. Why I picked the line I did; I don’t know. I often pick the slowest even when it appears the shortest; it’s an uncanny knack I have. The usual was occurring: “I collect key chains? What school did you graduate from? Do you know” . . . Before we got to the front of the line, just two or three ahead, I saw that the cashier had only one arm. Instead of a full arm on his right, from the elbow down was a black, leather arm with a pinching hook on the end. It was unusual to say the least. I knew what was going to happen, but there was no turning back. We were next.
“What happened to your arm?” were the next words I heard stinging my ears as I tried to use the debit machine faster than I ever had.
“It got blown off from some fireworks. They went off before I knew it.” Everyone was silent in line as the boy and man spoke to each other.
“That’s too bad, but your black arm looks really cool!”
The cashier smiled and his tone was different, softer, and his expression sincere and maybe with some relief. He said, “Thank you.”
“Bye,” Kelton said.
“Bye,” he said.
We hurriedly left. I could only think to say as we approached our car, “you should always be careful with fireworks, Kelt.”
“Of course, dad, I know that.”
I thought my dad was joking when he told me I was going to be Kelton's new aid at Whatcom Community College. I realized that he was being serious after attending orientation. As a recent Washington State University graduate, I was not exactly thrilled with the idea of spending my first year in the real world at community college.
It was a difficult process finding classes and programs that would work best for Kelt. After hours of research, tests, phone calls and meetings, my family realized that he would need an aid to be successful. We went back and forth between my mom and I, but finally decided it would seem more normal if I was the aid rather then his Mommy!
The first day of school Kelt introduced me as his personal secretary; last week he announced during math class that my breath smelled like grass; and in weight training he continues to tell everyone that I'm weak and can only do one pull-up. Being his personal secretary and sister can be unpredictable and nerve-racking, making it hard to decipher my role (sister or aid). Through this experience I have realized more then ever that I need to let him be himself. It’s important that people accept him for who he is.
If you were to ask Kelt about college, he would tell you that he's having fun and loves seeing people he knows. I'm happy that I'm helping my family and that Kelt gets to experience college. We've been going to Whatcom for four weeks and each day continues to be exciting. Wish us luck for the rest of the quarter!
"I was in 3rd grade when 9/11 happened. My Mom was sad that day. I was watching Ed, Edd n Eddy in the morning when I found out. That day was really important for me because that's when I learned that people could die." -Kelt
Today Kelton was tested in math and English at Whatcom Community College through the Adult Basic Education Program. The instructors told him that no one fails; the school just wanted to determine his academic level, but I knew that he had to have a minimum score to be accepted into the program. He ended up barely meeting the requirements and passed at the lowest level.
Before the test I felt negative about Kelton attending the community college because I didn't think it was the best way for us to use our time. My husband was being the positive one, which is a role reversal for us. I felt less anxious after Kelton passed the test, we went through orientation, registered for his two classes, and paid our $25 quarter fee. Once this process was over I realized that my concerns came from the fear that he wouldn't meet the course requirements and be disappointed that he couldn't take any academic courses at the college. Even though these classes aren't for credit, he doesn't know that and will feel like he's in college.
So our new adventure with Kelton begins and hopefully it's a positive one. There are always obstacles we have to overcome.
people in Kelt's life write guest posts. This entry is by our grandma.
I'm Kelton’s grandmother and would like to add a little story to his blog.
Kelton loves history – any history, whether it be famous people, wars, or just history in general. Could he be on Jeopardy? I think so. He's smart! To help himself with history he has developed a special way to learn the facts that interest him. He reads each paragraph in his books and rewrites them in a journal. Yes, he rewrites them! This takes many hours and lots of patience by his parents and siblings because he asks numerous questions about the words he doesn’t understand. Also, he's not satisfied with just any answer. It may take several inquiries before he gets the answer he thinks is suitable. He uses the computer dictionary, but is not satisfied with just any answer because he wants to understand what he's reading. I don’t know if there's a word that fully describes his passion for history, but to give you an idea, he has rewritten 16 journals of history facts.
Kelton would like to be a historian someday. Webster describes a historian as “a student or writer of history, one that produces a scholarly synthesis.” Of course I'm bias, but I think he's already a historian and will continue to write and improve. He's attending community college and I hope that his studies will include more history and, yes, he will get an A in the course!
We love you Kelton,
Grandma and Grandpa
Kelt's 7th grade wrestling photo with gloves.
Our drawings and Kelton's keychain collection fit well with the show’s concept. For him there’s a fine line between need and want and sometimes there’s no difference at all. Even though he WANTS more keychains, the desire to have as many as possible has become a driving force. For this reason he NEEDS his collection because it provides ease and escape, which is important in a hectic society that’s ruled by norms and expectations. He enjoys his keychains because it’s comforting to control something. Most people with autism have specific interests and prefer a lifestyle that is consistent and predictable.
Kelt mostly reads and watches movies on our camping trips. He loves fires and swimming, but spends most of his time writing in his history journals or watching movies, usually Goosebumps, The Fly, or an action film.
