Zoo Camp

I recently had the opportunity to accompany a severely autistic 7-year-old (although differing reports say he's 8) to Zoo Camp at the Oregon Zoo. The week was challenging, exhausting, and wonderful. Let me start by saying WHERE WAS ZOO CAMP WHEN I WAS A KID?!?! I would have LOVED it!! Oh, wait... I didn't live near a decent zoo from Grades 2-12. Anyhow, I was like a kid in a candy shop. But I digress...

The boy - let's call him Bobby - is highly intelligent with a memory like a porous oceanic creature. He's also very "Rainman"-esque with some physical tics and certain catchphrases he repeats mantra-style. My favorite of these is "I'm a tree... I'm a tree... I'm a tree..." Bobby can be very lucid and tuned in at some moments, and then he'll disappear into his own world for hours at a time. While his lack of eye contact and selective hearing can sometimes be legitimately blamed on his autism, he also has plenty of moments where he's just a plain ol' WILLFUL little boy. For example, when you call him and he looks you in the eye, giggles, and bolts for the hills. Or when he's kicking aside the other campers' backpacks in hopes of finding his hat on the classroom floor, and when you call him on it, he looks you in the eye and kicks 2 or 3 more as if they were errant soccer balls. Grrrr. Those moments didn't go over well with me, nor did it when this 60 pound child would go deadweight or start violently twisting in hopes of breaking my grip on his hand. Little did he know about my famed ninja "monkey grip" and just how tough that would be! Bwaa-ha-haaa! >:o\

Bobby responds well to concise, firm, military-style instructions, and I had my share of drill sergeant moments. Nonetheless, until you note his odd behavior and speech, Bobby is a beautiful little boy and at first glance looks "normal", and therefore I got my fair share of raised eyebrows from other adults as I would bark, "Bobby! Get on your feet now!" or "Bobby, you HAVE to wait your turn!" Sigh. If only they knew the challenge of 5 full days with a special needs kid. They might think I was a saint instead of a grouchy nag. Sigh.

In addition to Bobby, there were 35 other first graders in the class, and a total of 9 in my small group. So by the end of the week I was plum tuckered out and ready for a vacation from my vacation.

My two favorite moments of the week:

1. I always had one hand holding Bobby's hand, and the other was often grabbed by one of the little girls as we walked to and fro from the drop-off and pick-up zone to our classroom. I became accustomed to Bobby periodically letting go of my hand long enough to adjust his baseball cap or nametag, and I was always happy when he let go of my hand to wipe his nose rather than using my hand for the purpose. On one such morning walk, Bobby was holding my left hand, and little platinum blonde Kimberly was holding my right hand. I felt him let go momentarily and then grab my hand again, and thought nothing of it. The next time I looked down to ask him a question, I found that Bobby had apparently turned into a small Asian girl! Talk about a magic trick!! Okay, it was actually Cindy, and Bobby was placidly walking about 10 kids ahead of us in line. Still, that cracked me up!

2. One little girl was quite the "sensitive" child, prone to tears at any small bump or perceived injustice. On our small group's very first trek through the zoo, Bobby accidentally bumped into her at the underwater sea lion viewing area. She promptly burst into tears and tattled to me, a pattern which continued throughout the week. I couldn't seem to make her understand that a.) it was not intentional and b.) she was not actually injured in any way. On Friday afternoon as the group departed the classroom for the final trek into the zoo, I was caught in a line for the bathroom. The other leader advised me of the direction they were headed and we agreed that I would catch up. Not 5 minutes later, I caught up to the group, only to find that this same girl was HOLDING BOBBY'S HAND, contentedly being his "buddy." As we walked from exhibit to exhibit, she would kindly call to him, "Bobby! Come hold my hand!" and he seemed happy to please. At the end of the day, as we hiked through the zoo and around the parking lots to the pick-up point yonder, she automatically grabbed his hand and escorted him. When one of the other kids asked why she was holding his hand, she matter-of-factly replied "Because he's my friend."

So, there's the simple beauty of first graders. So helpless and wiggly and whiny and infuriating at times, and yet also able to extend grace and friendship in simple practical ways. Insert collective "awwww" and possible dabbing at the eyes with tissue.

In the end, while I was so exhausted every night that I feel asleep shortly after I got home (and consequently took the entire week to read the final Harry Potter book!), it was full of great moments, and it was a blessing to be able to help Bobby and his family by enabling him to go to Zoo Camp for the first time, when in the past he has had to stay home with mom and the baby while the his other siblings go.

This year we had a variety of classroom visitors including an armadillo, a spiny lizard, a hare, a hydroasaurus, and a Madagascar Hissing Cockroach. Next year, assuming that Bobby graduates to 2nd Grade Zoo Camp, we get to feed the otters. I can't wait! Where do I sign up?!?! :o)