English 280: The Journalistic Essay

By Cathy Krug

The campus is silent during the early morning. It’s 7:15 on a Saturday in September on a college campus, so the majority of the population is either at work or still in bed. A large group of students head toward the other side of campus, where the Kelly Gymnasium stands waiting. Their soft chattering and the crunching of leaves is all that can be heard. Ali DerMarderosian walks through the tunnel leading under the commuter rail. It’s covered in bright paper advertising off campus housing, among other ads. The ground has Greek symbols written in chalk, proclaiming the greatness of the sororities. She exits the tunnel on the west side of campus, where the gym looks up ahead. The activity around her picks up as cars pull into the parking lot, depositing more sleepy eyed college students. Ali smiles and waves as she catches up with other clinicians, ready for a busy day at the clinic. They walk into the gym and are greeted by several people in red shirts; the group leaders. It’s Ali’s first taste of the Children’s Physical Developmental Clinic, and she can’t wait to get started.

The Children’s Physical Developmental Clinic, or ‘CPDC,’ is a program that addresses the physical, motor, and social needs of children with disabilities (www.bridgew.edu/cpdc). It has been on the campus for thirty-four years and has served hundreds of children. The students who take part in it are volunteers; it’s not a requirement of the college. Even so, it draws at least one hundred students a semester, and the wait to join is long. As a current clinician, I have my own experiences that keep me involved. Only 50-60 children are admitted into the program each semester, so it’s understandable that only one hundred students would be invited as clinicians.

Ali was immediately drawn to the program when she was a freshman. As a senior, she has completed seven consecutive semesters. Checking her mail freshman year, she saw a flyer stuffed into the tiny box. It had a picture of a college student playing floor hockey with a young boy. The boy firmly held the stick with his right hand; his left hand was placed carefully on the top of the stick. He was smiling. The headline exclaimed that this was the Children’s Physical Developmental Clinic, and that they were looking for new clinicians. It caught Ali’s attention and she climbed the stairs to go up to her dorm room.

“I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do on campus,” Ali remembers. “I knew what my major was, but I didn’t know what I could do with it. It looked like fun and a great community service opportunity.”

Kristen Bissonnette, a second year senior at Bridgewater State College, feels the same way. “I have always enjoyed working with children who have disabilities, and I thought the clinic sounded like fun and a good opportunity,” she says with a smile. Kristen remembers that fateful day in her freshman year when she opened up her mail box to find a flyer about the clinic. At the time, she wasn’t really sure what to do at the college. Like Ali, she was drawn to the idea of helping out young children while meeting new people. On a big, new campus, an opportunity to get involved like this seemed like the perfect solution. She is now in her eighth, and final, semester, a fact that is very sad for her.

It’s very rare that a clinician would opt out of multiple semesters. In fact, most students who take part in it eventually move up into a leadership role as a group leader. After your second semester, a student is eligible to be a group leader, which gives you a behind the scenes look at clinic. The group leaders are in charge of five to eight clinicians and three or four children. It gives them a chance to be more creative with the program by setting up special games for the children while learning the clerical stuff as well. It can be stressful. If they don’t choose this path, though, they can continue on as clinicians.

“You just keep going back every semester…It draws you back, especially that last Saturday,” Ali says. At the end of the eight weeks, the clinic hosts a lunch with the parents and children. It’s an opportunity to talk to the parents about how their child progressed in the semester as well as when the parents express their appreciation for everything the clinician did. It’s mayhem in the gym as the kids run around, excited for the sandwiches and dessert platters laid out. They sit sporadically in the bleachers as well as out on the pool bleachers. Clinicians and their children exchange gifts and hugs as they make promises for the following semester.

“It’s hard to put it into words,” Ali laughs as she struggles to describe why she loves the clinic. “Making that connection with the child is the greatest feeling in the world.” During her second semester at the clinic, Ali worked with a difficult child. This child, referred to by her initials for confidentiality, has a range of disabilities: Down Syndrome and blindness are the most noticeable. One day, Ali was setting up the trampoline when JL came into the gym with her father. She held his hand tightly and giggled at everything going on around her. When Ali came over to say hi, JL let go of her father’s hand and latched onto Ali’s. Ali was taken aback by this gesture, but was eager to see what would happen. JL led her towards the trampoline, ready for the clinic to start. Ali couldn’t believe it.

“At times I would wonder, ‘Does she even remember me?’ The fact that she felt comfortable with me was a great accomplishment.” JL had been known to be stubborn, not cooperating with her past clinicians. It felt like a victory and Ali was happy about that day’s clinic.

Most of the children do remember their clinicians, and they eagerly await the next week’s clinic. Ali baby sits a child in the clinic, and she was amazed at how much he told her. “He would tell me his favorite activities, and what he hoped would happen at the next one,” she says. If you were to ask the parents, they would have similar responses. Clinicians are encouraged to call the families during the week to check in on the child, as a way of keeping communication open. A large portion of the parents often invite the clinicians to their house for dinner, as a way of thanking the student for their time in the program. This is when the clinician sees the child in their natural environment; it’s also shocking how the siblings are jealous of the “play time” their brother or sister gets to take part in every Saturday.

Jack R. is a parent of one of the children. He is also a former clinician. Recently, the clinic hosted a panel discussion with four parents, to share their experiences. It was recorded and posted on the CPDC website. Jack’s experience was like that of most clinicians. About thirty years ago he was a physical education major here at Bridgewater State College and had Dr. Huber as a teacher. There was talk of a new clinic starting up which caught his attention. He was paired up with a child named Eric, who had three sisters and a single parent mother. At the end of the year, his mother requested that Jack continue to work with him; she felt that he needed a positive male role model in his life. Jack did work with Eric during his remaining years at the college.

Years later, Jack married and had children of his own. One of his babysitters had a sister who had a degree of disability, and she was engaged to be married. Jack and his family were invited to the wedding and were surprised to see that she was marrying Eric. Jack now had a way of keeping in touch with his former child, and started to receive phone calls, wondering when they would go to a baseball game. Jack showed up at their apartment one afternoon, ready to go out to dinner with them. Eric pulled a picture out from his pocket; it was of the two men years earlier in front of the Kelly Gymnasium, leaning against a rail. Jack felt a bit choked up at this. “It really moved me…because you never know the influence that you may have on the kids that you’re working with.”

Now, Jack experiences the program from the other side. His daughter is enrolled in the clinic, and she loves it. One of the challenges he experiences every day is communicating with her. She is nonverbal, meaning she cannot speak; often times, he has to play Twenty Questions with her, and his only clues are her grunts and head motions. Whenever he brings up the clinic, he says that she gets excited about it. “She loves the college,” he says, and another parent remarks that their own son “Thinks he goes to [the college].” Taking a moment to reflect on everything that has happened, Jack says that he wouldn’t change anything that has happened. “It has opened up a whole new world…We’re still learning. We’re still growing,” he says with a chuckle, and another parent tells their story.

Shelia Campbell, the administrative director of CPDC, says that there is a long list of people waiting to get into the clinic.

For both clinicians and children, there is no guarantee that they will get in. “The wait list is not like taking a ticket at the deli counter— every semester we review the waitlist and look at the current children and students in the program and choose children based on the needs at that time,” she says, further explaining the wait list. Together with Doctor Huber, the director and founder of CPDC, they will pick the new clinicians and children, making sure they have a variety of abilities and disabilities. They don’t want to flood the clinic with the same disability, such as cerebral palsy or Down syndrome. Because of this, they ensure diversity in the clinic. It’s important for the college students to be exposed to this diversity; for many, it will be the first time they experience it before going out into the field.

After a few semesters in the clinic, Kristen decided she wanted to do this for the rest of her life. Sitting down with Doctor Huber, she had a conversation with him about it. They were in his office in the Tinsley Center and she asked if there was a major that centered on CPDC. It turned out there was. “Under the Phys Ed Major, the concentration of Motor Development Therapy/Adapted Phys Ed is offered. I was ecstatic when I found out about this, and I haven’t looked back since.” That was two years ago, and in that time Kristen has worked with several kids in CPDC as well as at the Massachusetts Hospital School.

Kristen is not hesitant when you ask why she keeps coming back to the clinic. While it can be tough, she has no regrets. “Working with a child is always challenging. But getting to their strengths and weaknesses, and building from there to help them achieve their goals is totally worth it. I think only having eight weeks to get to know them and work on goals is a difficult challenge!” she says with a smile.

Come January, a new batch of clinicians will gather in the Kelly gymnasium for their first clinic. Like Ali, Kristen, and other clinicians before them, they’ll nervously take part in a training session, learning everything about the clinic. At the end of the first official clinic, they’ll understandably be tired. After cleaning up the equipment and filling out paper work, most will congregate in one of the campus’s dining halls for a filling brunch. They’ll then head off to their homes or dorm rooms to continue with their day. A nap usually sneaks its way in this routine. Clinicians and children alike will anticipate the next week, talking about it and planning fun activities to make it the best day ever.