The Beginning of the End

Today is the first day of final exams. Today is the last day I will see my first and second period classes. Today is the day I say goodbye to Mike--not this boy's real name, but it might have been if he had been born when I was. Mike has greeted me at my door at whatever time I've arrived since day one of the school year. There were less than a handful of days when he was absent. Mike, as he is eager to tell you, has Asperger's syndrome. Extremely high functioning in some areas, he is woefully blind in others. Mike gets the work in English class. He is learning to have something to say about literature and support it from the text, but it's not an easy task for him. He wants things nailed down. Concrete answers don't just seem like a good idea, you can sense his discomfort when they don't come.

We've had many interesting conversations this year. Well, that's overstatement, we've had many peculiar conversations that he may have found interesting. Recently, when the rain didn't seem it would ever stop, we had one like this:

M: So, exactly how long does a N'reaster last? (Proud of the knowledge he has, as always)
Me: Well, Mike, there are many factors contributing to storms...(some rot about high pressure and low pressure and the big cloud that covered the state). Maybe you should ask a science teacher.
M: (Weak smile) So, we don't really know, right?
Me: Yes, that's about it.

Mike has read the required number of books independently this year. Every book has been about Asperger's or autism. Every single one! I was impressed that he was able to find this number and variety on the topic. Perhaps he thinks one of those books will hold the key to understanding his own brain. If only we all could have the field of inquiry on the craziness that happens inside our heads whittled down to a few managable texts. I am sure at age 16 I would have wanted to get through them all, too.

Earlier in the year the sight of him huddled in his sweatshirt on my ramp would dig at me a little. I always have a short list of things that must be done between the time I get to my classroom and class begins. I've always treasured those few minutes of peace to assemble my day. I haven't had that this year. Instead, there was a steady, polite stream of questions, ranging from those with answers he should have known (Yes, there is a vocab quiz on Friday; it's on the board), to the truly esoteric. In the last month or so, I've come to love Mike and his uniqueness in a new way, probably just from knowing that this time would soon be passing. In just over eighty days he'll be sitting on some other teacher's ramp, waiting for that unsuspecting soul to arrive. A science teacher, I hope.