Support Workers, Get Off Your Cellphones!

I heard it numerous times from parents about how much it bugs them that the damn workers are always on their cellphones and neglecting their special-needs kids. I will confess it's also a sin that I have been guilty of. For support workers, the cellphone will always be their glittering apple leading them into temptation. For me, the scenario will play out like this...

I am at the field house at Variety Village with Johnny*, waiting for the equipment staff to return so we can get a basketball. Johnny is desperately tugging at me, desperately attempting to break my grip so he can bolt into the equipment room for the basketball. After what seems like an eternity, the staff returns and hands us a ball.

We are now on the court. Johnny shoots, misses, and then slams the ball in frustration as he flops to the floor. He will have no more, despite my pleading for him to continue. I then suggest we skip the sports and head to the pool for swimming. He nods in agreement.

We get to the pool area, and he won't enter the change room. He changed his mind. More begging from me, but he won't budge. He settles instead to watch the swimmers from the glass doors, but this is pitifully brief. He has now rushed the lifeguard quarters, and I must get him out of there.

We return to the field-house to try biking around the tracks on a Recumbent Tricycle. Forty-five minutes go by with us circling the tracks and me commanding him to stay in his lane. Despite my barkings, there are still a few close calls with him almost running over other walkers.

Thankfully, it is now lunchtime, and we can head to the front cafe for food. Food should occupy him!

We are now sitting at the table in the front, and Johnny starts on his lunch. Oh yes, he is settled – and then there is that shiny, glittering apple in my jacket pocket!

Perhaps the temptation is fueled by the support work job, which does not readily allow breaks or escapes. Seriously, in most jobs, after four hours of work, you are entitled to a 15-minute break for yourself. Or, is it two hours?! Oh God – it has been such a long time since I had a normal job!

Anyway, a 15-minute break for yourself and time away from your special-needs client is obviously not doable in the support work business. Often, a quick chat on the phone is the only feasible respite. Yes, support workers need respite too! As well, extended time with a non-verbal person can be really lonely and creates a real craving for normal conversations.

So, giving in to temptation, I snatch the apple (actually an Android!) from my jacket pocket and start yapping.

The 'release' instantly whisks my attention into an Alice-in-Wonderland daze. Yet, just as quickly, I am jolted back to reality, but not by an 'Alice! Wake up!' but by a, 'No! No! Elvis?! Johnny!'

Oh crap!! Johnny has pushed his way through the line, and he is now at the concession stand, destroying it as he snatches chips. Staff-Jane is yelling for me as she desperately attempts to hold him off. The quickest goodbye to my conversation partner, and I race for Johnny.

Staff-Jane howling, Johnny screeching, displays crashing. Oh my! I clutched on to Johnny and corralled him back to our table.

Things are calm again, but now I have to contend with all the disapproving looks. I am the most worthless flesh to ever try to pass as a person. There I am yapping on my phone while my mentally disabled client is destroying the place. Oh God! Not also another sit-down with Facility Manager-Evelynne about how I must do a better job watching my guys.

Back at our table, relieved but angry, I stare at Johnny as he munches away at his stolen chips. He now appears so calm and sweet. I get even madder.

As I stare at him, I am also reflecting that I couldn't have been in Wonderland all that long. How did he so quickly teleport himself into trouble? The puzzle adds to my growing resolve that autistic kids have supernatural powers. Supernatural crap disturbing powers.

The disapproving looks and sit-downs with Evelynne are bad enough, but serious reflection over the years has led me to settle on another prime reason to limit my cellphone use when I am with my guys. I have come to appreciate just how emotionally needy special-needs individuals are and how they crave our constant attention.

Many may think that the particularly difficult aspects of supporting special-needs individuals involve looking after their behavioural, physical or even personal care challenges. Indeed, those things are difficult, but I would say it's the emotional neediness that is the most challenging. In fact, I would argue it's the emotional neediness and their inability to self-regulate that give rise to the other challenges. Special-needs individuals constantly need us to help them self-regulate from all the stressors and temptations around them.

Comparing my clients to my own kids, I am sure my girls love me, but on just about every evening, I could walk into the living room and instantly combust in a ball of flame, and I doubt they would notice. If they are on their screens, they may merely whine to their mother about why it's suddenly so hot in the room and whether the AC is working. They don't need me as much.

So, support workers, if you are listening, let's resist the apple and put our clients ahead of everything else. Please get off your cellphones!

(*SWT welcomes support workers' stories, yet, as service providers, the confidentiality of our clients should be paramount.. Always use pseudonyms and avoid identifying remarks