🎧 Wave Reads For You
It was getting close to the end of the school year for Mrs. Thomas and her Grade 6 class. Everyone was very excited! Each day seemed to drag on forever while the boys and girls chattered about their summer plans. Two whole months of freedom loomed large!
But the teacher sensed some uneasiness, even underneath all the enthusiasm. These kids were now old enough to be aware of what was going on in the world. And it seemed the bad news getting closer and closer to home. There was worry at the grocery store about the cost of food. There was worry about shortages in our hospitals. There was worry about poverty, about homelessness, about unemployment.
Mrs. Thomas decided it was time to talk about some of these troubling topics. But rather than focus on problems, she led her students to think about solutions. She introduced the idea of becoming influencers for good. “What can we all do in our own way to better the world we live in? To protect our country, our community, and our families?” Then she suggested that they write about their findings and experiences to share with the class as their first assignment in the Fall.
Fast forward to September. The kids rose to the challenge. These are their stories:
Loving the Golden Years
By Maria, age 10
My grandmother turned sixty-five last month. We had a big birthday party for her with all our friends. I helped bake a beautiful pink Barbie cake. Gran loves Barbie. She tells everybody that she and Barbie are exactly the same age, so they grew up together. She remembers the hours of fun she had making outfits for her dolls and imagining fun adventures.
But when it came time to sing feliz aniversário, she could not remember where she was. “Who’s the lucky birthday girl?”, she kept asking.
My Mom and Dad just smiled, and reassured her that she was the lucky one. She was surrounded by people who love her and people who could care for her properly. We all laughed and had a piece of cake while we opened our loot bags.
It was not like this six months ago. Before the government was finally able to find her a small room in this local nursing home, Mom and Dad never smiled. They were just too worried about Gran. After the fire destroyed her apartment, she agreed to move in with us. But we soon realized that someone had to keep an eye on her day and night. It was a full-time job.
Some mornings when she first climbed out of bed, she would tell us that she had just got back from the hair salon, or Wal-Mart, or the local bodega. We played along, knowing she had not done those things the day before and making innocent chit-chat. That was until the day she lit up a cigarette when drinking her morning coffee.
My mother panicked. “Where did you get that cigarette?”, she demanded. Gran responded calmly, “I already told you, dear, I went to the bodega last night.” Mom and Dad froze in place. They had just learned that Gran was getting up in the middle of the night and driving their car around the neighbourhood. She did not have a drivers’ licence.
Nor did she smoke.
Gran once confided in me that she did smoke occasionally back in the seventies, and she even tried pot. But that was before we all knew how dangerous smoking was for our health. She told me she would never smoke again and that I should never start.
So even I knew that something was off with Gran. Mom and Dad stopped talking about the cause of the fire in her apartment and stopped pestering her ex-landlord for insurance. They knew it was not safe for her or for me and my sisters. We needed to find a better solution The only person who did not realize it was Gran herself.
Gran and I have always been best friends. When she told me she was afraid to move to the nursing home, I promised her I would come to visit her every day after school. That I would help her decorate her room with all her favourite memories. Then during my summer vacation, I was there every day.
I began to notice there were lots of people just like my Gran whose minds were just not as sharp as they used to be. I loved listening to their stories. There were doctors and teachers, business managers and artists… all suffering from the same condition called Alzheimer’s disease or dementia.
I went to see the manager of the nursing home to find out if there was something more helpful I could be doing for the residents. I even had friends who would like to help too. The manager said that although I was quite mature for my age, I was still too young to become a formal volunteer. “Let’s see if we can come up with a new way for you and your friends to help out over the summer months.”
So that’s how the PEP Squad got its start. It stands for People Energizing People. My Mom came up with the name, and I think it’s perfect. And Gran loves it, too. When she was in High School, their social committee was called the Pep Club. She’s proud of me and so happy to share me with the new friends she is making.
In the nursing home, there is a position called the Activity Coordinator. There is a college certificate that teaches people how to plan events and keep residents busy. It covers everything from physical and mental health and wellness, to scheduling activities, and safety and security.
There’s also the aspect of making sure that people’s religious beliefs and traditions are respected. And making sure everyone is treated with respect and dignity. Sometimes, the coordinators will work within the community to raise awareness and to bring the neighbourhood into the home. All of these responsibilities fascinate me. It’s a course I would definitely want to check out once I finish high school.
In the meantime, whether we’re baking cookies, playing bingo or organizing loot bags for birthday parties, my friends and I are learning the importance of listening, patience, enthusiasm, and being kind. That’s something we can all do, not only during summer vacation but on every day throughout the year.
