Intercom shenanigans
51
The semester was down to the final weeks. The end was in sight but Harrison needed to complete major projects in Psychology and Multicultural Education, plus finish building the welding table for the Ski Area Operations shop. He also needed to study for a final exam in Psychology.
Meanwhile, he busied himself improvising “intercom systems” using landlines and the speaker on his iPhone. This obsession went back to high school when he helped with daily school announcements. At first he rigged this from the front desk in the residence hall which seemed harmless and drew chuckles from fellow students. However, when he took this gag to a couple of classrooms it became a problem. Of course he missed the social cues that once or twice was funny and three times, or more, was not. The initial positive feedback only fed the fixation.
Typically silly behaviors like this were best ignored until they went away. However, in a college learning environment this was not possible. There was an incident in Prof. Carson’s Multicultural Education class when Harrison was more disruptive than usual. When Prof. Carson asked him to stop he refused. And when she then asked him to leave the classroom he refused to do that too.
Prof. Carson was stymied over what to do about this and was understandably upset. She had to file a Care Report over it. I too was very disappointed and embarrassed to hear Harrison had done this. Prof. Carson was one of his strongest advocates. I was also puzzled by Harrison feeling like he could get away with behaviors like this at college when he would have never even thought of doing something like this in high school. Perhaps the increased independence along with a relative decrease in structure was at the root of all this.
I recalled my own involvement in an indoor fireworks war that went on for days in Arnett Hall at CU-Boulder, with bottle rockets erupting from beneath dorm room doors and entire packs of lit Black Cat firecrackers being tossed into occupied communal showers and toilet stalls. Somehow the R.A.’s didn’t hear any of this. Nobody got in trouble, or injured. There was an eventual truce as our supply of contraband micro-explosives ran out.
Seeing a need to get some additional support for Harrison, Prof. Carson initiated the process for CMC to add a paid work-study position to hire a student to support special-needs students. Perhaps someone familiar with Harrison would apply for the position. After the job was approved Ben emerged as the likely candidate. At first Ben was unsure. However, after some thought and discussion, he decided that as a teammate and classmate he basically was already helping Harrison anyway so he might as well get paid.
With the finish line for the semester now in sight, it seemed some supports were finally being put into place, though most would not go into effect until the fall semester. I felt like in addition to getting help for Harrison we were also paving a path for other autistic students who might follow him.
In addition, Prof. Carson created an interactive online space where faculty could share collective wisdom about how to best serve Harrison in the classroom. In this document professors could share ideas, strategies, or ask questions in an effort to make Harrison’s college experience more productive for him and his classmates. This document outlined Harrison’s strengths, including being helpful and kind, as well as his wish to succeed. It offered tips on on how to help him maintain focus and relate to the subject material. For example, it noted that he is an excellent reader and his attention could be maintained by having him read slides in a presentation.
It also brought up questions about how to keep Harrison focused, and from interrupting in the classroom. It discussed how to redirect Harrison without automatically triggering him to jump to the thought that he was in trouble. In fact this had become a major roadblock to helping Harrison. Any suggestion or attempt to guide him was often met with “Oh no!” Of course this reaction lingered from when he got sent home the previous August.
She suggested quietly reminding him to listen, using non-verbal body language and writing requests on a sticky note. These were quite thoughtful suggestions coming from someone who had been frustrated by Harrison’s actions in class.
One sunny afternoon I pulled up to the campus and saw Evan, who was out walking. I waved. Then he waved back to get my attention and walked over to my truck. He casually explained that there had been an issue with Harrison messing with the phones. I told him I was aware of this and would talk to Harrison about it. However, I knew this would not be as simple as merely telling Harrison to “knock it off.”
Notes from The Blur
My fascination with intercom systems took over and I started doing this in classrooms, which was disruptive. I wasn’t purposefully doing this for the sake of disturbing my professors or other students. The reason I did this in classrooms was that it brought me some feeling of comfort.
One time when I picked up the phone at the RA’s desk to make an announcement, Ana came down the stairs and said, “Busted!” I freaked out because I first thought she was frustrated with me. Then she told me she was only joking. There was another time when I videotaped myself explaining how I jury-rigged the phones. Then I expanded this to classrooms.
One day when I went to my Multicultural Education class, I noticed that the phone I had been using with had a note on it saying, “This phone is only for Brooke’s use or for an emergency.” Upon noticing this, I realized one of my professors had probably reported me for the intercom stunt.
One day when my dad was in Leadville we were driving back to the college from the coffee shop and my dad told me that Evan had stopped him and said to tell me to stop messing with the phones. I got mad and blurted out something I shouldn’t have said when we got back to the dorms. This quickly spun out of control with my fixating on having done something wrong. I was angry and could not get my brain out of this loop.
I was still mad when Andrew, one of my fellow students who had a job with CVS Pharmacy, offered to go on a walk with me to de-escalate the situation. Andrew was also on the autism spectrum. He promised me that if I didn’t touch the CMC phones for an entire week, he would let me do a closing announcement for the CVS Pharmacy in Atlanta, Georgia. I liked this idea. And so it worked out that I quit playing with the phones on campus. That next Friday, Andrew called and provided a script. He connected my phone to the store’s speaker system. I spoke into my phone and it broadcast the announcement over the store speakers. This brought me a sense of happiness and also helped me to get past the intercom obsession.
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