Guest guest Posted May 2, 2005 Report Share Posted May 2, 2005 " The possibility of a friendship " Great article ... I'm sending this to my son's teacher and the Sp Ed director in my ISD! They believe in inclusion, and this really is a great example. If you go to the website where the article is posted, you'll see photos, too. Direct link is at ... (begin url) http://www.concordmonitor.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article? AID=/20050501/REPOSITORY/505010304/1031 (end url) From the Concord Monitor. The possibility of a friendship By LISA WANGSNESS Monitor staff May 01. 2005 1:35PM DAN HABIB / Monitor staff Brad Niejadlik (right) dances with Austin Mullins at Concord High School's spring fling last month. Niejadlik, 19, has a wide circle of friends. Special education teachers say he is an example of what's possible as they try to promote social inclusion among students with disabilities. Brad Niejadlik's disability hasn't kept him from warm relationships at Concord High. A gregarious personality has helped. So have the efforts of his classmates. Brad Niejadlik springs from his chair next to the china cabinet and peers out the dining room window. Kate's car isn't there. Not yet. He doesn't have to set the table tonight. He won't be home to eat pork roast with his mother and father. Tonight, he's going bowling with friends from school. He's waited weeks for this. Twice in the past few days the other kids had to cancel at the last minute. A snowstorm, a sick grandfather - it couldn't be helped. He plops down on a recliner in the living room. Seconds later, he's back at the window. Niejadlik joined the extracurricular Epicurean Club at CHS at the urging of Madden (red shirt), a friend since elementary school at Beaver Meadow. " They're good friends, " he says, reassuring himself. " They'll come. They'll come. " Brad Niejadlik (pronounced Nee-AD-lik) is 19 years old. He is 6-foot- 1, athletic, handsome, with thick brown hair and a joyful sense of humor. He has perfect manners. He never forgets a face. And he has a developmental disability. When he speaks, his words run together like the notes of a jazz trombone. At school, he ambles through the hallways almost like any other kid, but he leans forward a bit too far. He is learning how to count change. When he does, he'll be allowed to run the cash register at the student store. He's a big fan of Sports Illustrated, but he has very limited reading and writing ability. Niejadlik looks out the window of his family home as he waits for friends to pick him up. " If he has a happy life – that's all anybody can expect for and hope for for their children, " his mother, Carrigg, said. One of the most remarkable things about Niejadlik is that he has made friends with kids without disabilities -or, to use the term special educators prefer, " typical " students. In Concord, a district long known for its practice of including students with disabilities in regular academic classes, special educators see social integration as their next challenge. Next year, with the help of a $32,000 grant from the Bubel/Aiken Foundation, the high school will offer a new class to typical students designed to teach them how to include students with disabilities in their academic and social lives. They see Niejadlik as an example of what is possible. When he walks down the hall, kids passing by him call out " Brad! " and slap him a high-five. Students in his classes volunteer to help him with assignments. Sometimes he goes bowling with one of the captains of the football team, or to a hockey game with a couple of smart, pretty girls who are also his prom dates. As a child, his relationships with typical kids could be terribly painful. They can be even now - and not just because of the occasional name-calling. He lives for the nights he goes out on the town with his friends, and when plans go awry - as they often do in the lives of busy teenagers - he is crushed. And though his friends adore him, he doesn't participate in so many of the usual rites of adolescence. He doesn't stay out late, or psychoanalyze romantic relationships, or go to raging parties. He has a full social life outside of school. He is extraordinarily close with his parents, Carrigg and Tom Niejadlik, and though he has no siblings, he has a large extended family within driving distance. His cousins think of him as a brother, and he basks in the adoration of his grandmothers. He also swims and plays basketball in Special Olympics. He talks on the phone for hours with fellow athletes, and every so often, he goes out to dinner and the movies with their families, or to dances for teenagers with disabilities. Carrigg and Niejadlik are their son's teachers, his interpreters and, not least, his social directors. But the one thing they can't do is negotiate his relationships with typical teens. No longer children who can be summoned for a play date with a phone call to their parents, Niejadlik's classmates are mostly running their own lives now. They drive around town by themselves, their busy schedules packed with academics, athletics, part-time jobs and dates. Just as his parents want their son to have friends with disabilities, they also believe it's critical for him to have friends who don't. " He wants to feel accepted, just like any other kid would want to feel accepted in the school community, " Carrigg said. " Someday he's going to have a job. And when he goes in the lunchroom, is he supposed to sit by himself, or is he supposed to learn how to be integrated into the group with other people he works with? Because that's the real world. " Though pursuing these friendships requires the family to " depend on the kindness of others to help him have a life, " Carrigg said, it's a risk that has paid off. Like the other night, when Niejadlik waited anxiously for Kate Supry to come take him bowling. Every minute or so, for a half-hour straight, Niejadlik jumped up from his chair to look out the window. Finally, finally - right on time - Supry's silver Ford Focus came zipping into the driveway. " Just hang back, Brad, she'll come to the door, " his father said. Or not. " You coming, Brad? " Surpry shouted from outside. He kissed his dad on the cheek and bolted out the door. Striking a balance In teaching their little boy to navigate the world outside their snug white Cape off Sewalls Falls Road, Niejadlik's parents tried to strike a balance, protecting him from unnecessary hurt without sheltering him too much. It took Niejadlik much longer than the other boys on his street to learn to ride a bike, so Carrigg would put his two-wheeler in the trunk and drive him somewhere where could practice without being embarrassed. But when he came in from playing upset about something, his parents would comfort him and then send him back outside. How else, they thought, would he learn to take care of himself? It could be tough, though. A boy who lived down the street once had a birthday party and invited everyone but Niejadlik, who miserably watched the balloons and the kids arriving from the front window. Another time, a playmate said, " My father says Brad's not on our team. " There were other, crueler episodes, too, things his family would rather not dredge up now. But Niejadlik's childhood was also full of delight. Beaver Meadow School was like a family to him, and he adored the teachers and aides, who included him in everything the other kids did. And with his sunny, outgoing disposition - " He's always happy, he's always in a good mood, " his father said - Niejadlik made lots of friends. s, who lived next door, would come over to wrestle, to bang on Niejadlik's drum set or go swimming in the backyard pool. " He was my best friend, " s recalled recently. " He was just like a regular kid. " There were also the Madden boys, sons of Concord Police Chief Jerry Madden, who lived around the corner. After school, , who was Niejadlik's " reading buddy " at school, and his younger brother would play street hockey next to Niejadlik's house. " We wouldn't let people mess with Brad because we knew how good of a kid he was, " Madden said in an interview the other day. " I think a lot of kids knew that. " Rundlett Middle School was a rough ride. Niejadlik found himself in a huge school, separated from many of his closest friends. " Sixth grade was terrible, " Carrigg said. " He was just a target. He would get spit on outside, waiting for the bus. " But he always had an ally, she said. One youngster would always come tell her what happened, even if it was too late to do anything about it. As his classmates matured, so did their sense of compassion, which teachers helped nurture. An aide at Rundlett would recruit students who made fun of kids with disabilities to be their helpers. And allies like s and Madden - this year's homecoming king and co-captain of the football and hockey teams - led the others by example. " If it was cool for them to be friends with him, then it was okay for other kids to be friends with him, " Tom Niejadlik said. Knight, now a senior at Concord High, remembers how kids would treat Niejadlik at Rundlett - and how, in high school, that began to change. " I always felt bad that people would make fun of him, " he said. " I didn't really do anything about it. was the first person to really step up. " This year, Knight sees Niejadlik at the Epicurean Club - thanks to Madden, who, at a teacher's suggestion, brings Niejadlik to meetings each Thursday. One afternoon in January, the three boys sat around a crowded table in one of the art rooms, planning the club's chili cook-off. " He's become like, a good kid, kind of a friend of ours, " Knight said. " He's really funny, he has really good jokes. People laugh with him, not at him. " Instantaneously friendly The other night, Boutwell's Bowling Center was packed with families and league players, all shouting above the rumbling balls and clattering candlepins. Niejadlik sat along a wall, kidding around with Supry and two other boys from school, Matt Unger and Mike Ferguson, as they waited for a lane to open. Supry hadn't worn socks - the fashion is to go without, even in the middle of winter - and she wrinkled her nose as she pulled on her bowling shoes. " Why didn't you bring my socks, Brad? " she said. Niejadlik threw up his hands in mock frustration. " I've been listening to her all day, " he said. " My toes are, like, right to the end. " A year ago, Niejadlik wouldn't have socialized outside of school with any of these kids. His friendships have taken flight this year thanks to a combination of factors - open, accepting classmates, a little nudging from some teachers, and perhaps most importantly, Niejadlik's innate gregariousness. " He has the uncanny ability to meet somebody and just instantaneously become really friendly with that person, " said Kate s, a special education teacher. " He remembers that person's name, what the person does and is genuinely interested in that person. " Back in September, Unger, a co-captain of the football team, told Niejadlik that he'd seen him bowling over the summer. Niejadlik challenged him to a match, and Unger said sure, he'd go sometime. The breezy banter continued until a teacher approached Unger. Niejadlik, the teacher said, was really excited about their bowling trip. " I hadn't realized, " Unger said. " So I called his dad to make sure it was cool. " Since then, Unger has taken Niejadlik to Boutwell's a few times, and once to see Meet the Fockers. His group has become Niejadlik's, too. At lunch, where many students with disabilities sit together at one table with their aides -effectively segregated from the other students - Niejadlik eats with the upperclassmen jocks in the back corner of the cafeteria. " He's friends with everybody, " Unger said. " There isn't anybody he doesn't like. " Meanwhile, Niejadlik also met Supry and Whitney Pillsbury in marketing class this fall. The girls are juniors at Merrimack Valley Regional High School, where Supry is on the soccer team, but they come to Concord High for marketing, which is part of the Regional Vocational Center. " The first time I really talked to him was when we had to stock together, " Supry said. (Marketing students run the student store, and they restock the juice and water coolers every morning.) " Of course, he wasn't doing anything. So I was like, 'Brad, you've got to help me out, come on.' And after that he started always talking to me. " Pillsbury and Supry became two of Niejadlik's best friends at school. In class, he usually pairs up with one of them to restock juice or bake cookies, or to work on academic assignments. It wasn't long before Supry and Pillsbury began taking Niejadlik out to dinner or to hockey games. And, earlier this year, after he dropped hints about the prom, they made it a date. The girls say they aren't going with him out of a sense of obligation, or as a kind of community service. They're going with him because they want have a good time. " It's not going to be awkward, it's not going to be uncomfortable, it's going to be fun night, " Supry said. Walking through the high school halls with Niejadlik, watching how many kids call out hello or trade inside jokes with him as they pass, it's not hard to see what she means. " My cousin's a senior at Concord High, " Pillsbury said. " And when I told him I'm going to the prom with Brad, he's like, 'The Brad?' I'm like, 'Wow, I'm going with a pretty popular kid here.' " Friendships with limits Yet Niejadlik will never be just like the other kids, and there are limits - real or imposed - to his friendships with them. The kids at school would never consider taking him to a party where kids were drinking. Not only do they think it would be irresponsible but they also sense that Niejadlik would hate it. Niejadlik is a stickler for the rules - he won't even listen to rap songs that have swear words in them - and adults have drilled into him the dangers of drinking and doing drugs. " It's kind of very dangerous, very stupid, " he said. " I don't want to do that stuff. " And then there is dating. He has a crush on Austin Mullins, a thoughtful senior with big brown eyes who was in his public speaking class first semester. He becomes unusually shy when she's around, she said. Every once in a while he works up the nerve to talk to her. " He'll say, 'Austin, you have a special place in my heart,' " Mullins said. She is flattered, and she is sweet to him, just as she would be to any other kid she liked as a friend. Unlike many high school boys, Niejadlik is so restrained, so respectful, that she doesn't have to worry about fending him off like she might with other boys. Still, Mullins wonders sometimes whether Niejadlik realizes she doesn't like him in that way - and whether that's okay with him. She doesn't want to hurt his feelings. " You can't talk to him about it, " she said. " I don't feel comfortable talking to him about his disability. " Madden wonders, too, when Niejadlik asks him about Mullins. " It's hard, " he said. " You want him to have the same opportunities and chances as everybody else, but he just can't sometimes. And you don't want that, especially with a kid like Brad. For now, that (his crush on Mullins) may hold him over, be sufficient enough. But sometimes when you hear about it, you're like, is he ever going to find someone? It would be awesome if he did. " Niejadlik's mother says her son seems to draw his own boundaries around his feelings for the girls at school. " When we talk about Whitney and Kate, and what do you think about them, he says, 'I think they're very pretty and so nice, but we're just friends,' " Carrigg said. " He just gets it - he understands the limits of the kids in school, the typical kids in school. " He often asks a young woman who also has a developmental disability to Special Olympics dances, she said. When his parents mentioned her name in front of a reporter, Niejadlik buried his head in his hands and begged them not to talk about her. " She's a friend, " Carrigg said. She smiled, gently teasing him. " I did see him with his arm around her once or twice. " " Mom! " 'As good as we can make it' Romance aside, though, Niejadlik isn't anyone's constant companion or confidante. Most nights, he hangs out with his parents until his 9 p.m. bedtime. Unger often stays out until 10 p.m., and on most weekends, he spends the night at a friend's house. He and Ferguson, his best friend, spend hours hanging out with throngs of other kids at Ferguson's house. Niejadlik has never been there. " Brad's my friend, but he'll never be like Fergie, " Unger said. " There are certain limitations about what he can do, that's just what you've got to accept. I try to make it as good as we can make it. " Niejadlik's friends - and even his family - often wonder what he is thinking. His parents spend a lot of time encouraging him to express his feelings. Sometimes it takes hours, or days, for him to articulate them. " He's a mystery to us, too, in a lot of ways, " his mother said. But Niejadlik is not reserved when it comes to expressing his concern and affection for other people. He often asks Supry or Pillsbury, " Why are you guys so wonderful? " And last fall, when his special education teacher Kate s returned to school after losing her father, he sensed how deeply she was grieving. " He came up to me one day in school and said, 'I just want you to know, I'm sorry. I'd like to give you a hug or something,' " she said. They hugged. Niejadlik said, " My mom and I pray for you at night. " " I started to cry, " she said. " He got a little nervous, he said, 'Oh Kate, I didn't mean to upset you.' I said, " Oh, no, no, no, Brad, it's just a nice thing to say.' " Later, he made a card for her. " Kate, " it said, " I know your dad is in heaven watching down on you. " s still keeps it on her nightstand. And though exchanging confidences often defines high school friendships, the kids say that part of what they value most about their relationship with Niejadlik is its simplicity. " He's a happy kid, " Unger said. " We talk about West Wing and TV and girls -that's the funnest part, talking about girls. Nothing inappropriate, just, 'Look at that chick over there.' " " Whenever we hang out, it's just fun, " Supry said. " It's never awkward. We're always talking about something. We're always laughing when we're with Brad. And he's always open, he's not afraid to say anything. " The girls are the ones who ask Niejadlik to go out after school, she said - not the other way around. It's something they look forward to, they said. " My friendship with Brad is just easy, it's not complicated, there are no hidden messages, no, 'What are you thinking?'all the time, " Pillsbury said. " It's just a carefree friendship. " For Pillsbury, there is a flip side to Niejadlik's inability to dissect relationships and emotions in the way other teenagers can. When she wakes up in a funk, she can't complain to Niejadlik about it during their first period class together. While venting can be a relief, she observed, sometimes it's better to just forget about your bad mood. " You're forced to just laugh it off and be like, 'What's up, Brad?' " she said. Niejadlik, she said, helps her " see life from a different point of view. " " I'm always looking way into the future, stressing out about work or school or friends or boys, " she said. " Where with Brad, it's just live life to the fullest, just live it day by day. " Back at school Next year, Niejadlik will be back at Concord High. Though he is a senior and he'll walk with his class in June - the kids he grew up with wanted him to graduate with them - as a student with a disability, he can stay in school until he turns 21. His parents would like him to have as much vocational experience as possible. Madden will be off to College in the fall; Unger is trying to decide between Plymouth State University and two schools in Massachusetts. Pillsbury and Supry will be around for another year, though, before they graduate. Niejadlik's parents have high expectations for their son. They would like him to have a job, to have a social life and to be involved in community service. (He already has internships at Concord Hospital, where he delivers packages, and at Hannaford, where he works in the produce department.) They don't know how independent he'll be, or whether he'll learn to drive - they take it day by day. " We're not going to put any limits on him, " said his father. " If he's happy in a little job after high school, and he does some volunteering, and he has friends here and people who care about him - if he has a happy life - that's all anybody can expect for and hope for for their children, " his mother said. All of his friends say they hope to keep in touch with Niejadlik after they leave town. They imagine taking him out when they're home visiting their parents, just like they do now. " I'll never be far away, " Madden said. " I think that if I come home for a weekend and I'm with Whitney, I can see myself being like, 'Let's call Brad and go get ice cream,' " Supry said. " I like him. He's cool. I want to hang out with him. " Asked what he thinks Niejadlik's life will be like when he is 40 or 50, Unger smiled. " Everyone will know him and like him, " he said. " He'll just be the friendly guy, you know. There will be people out there who make fun of him still, but hopefully people will get to know him. Once you know him, you like him. Unless you're a jerk. But I don't even care about those people. " " I think Brad's got so much to offer everybody, " Pillsbury said. " I think he'll continue giving forever. " (Monitor photographer Dan Habib contributed reporting to this story. For additional photos from this story, go to http://www.concordmonitor.com and click on the photography/galleries section.) ------ End of article By LISA WANGSNESS Monitor staff Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted May 4, 2005 Report Share Posted May 4, 2005 Hi, My name is Dee Couvillon and I just re-joined 2 days ago. I was wondering if anyone saved the message below and if so would you mind sending it to me so that I may print it? Gad, what a sentence. Anyway, I didn't realize that we could no longer save messages from the home site. Thank you, Dee C dcouvillon@... > " The possibility of a friendship " Great article ... I'm sending this > to my son's teacher and the Sp Ed director in my ISD! They believe in > inclusion, and this really is a great example. > > If you go to the website where the article is posted, you'll see > photos, too. Direct link is at ... > > (begin url) http://www.concordmonitor.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article? > AID=/20050501/REPOSITORY/505010304/1031 (end url) > > > From the Concord Monitor. > > The possibility of a friendship > > By LISA WANGSNESS > Monitor staff > > May 01. 2005 1:35PM > > DAN HABIB / Monitor staff > Brad Niejadlik (right) dances with Austin Mullins at Concord High > School's spring fling last month. Niejadlik, 19, has a wide > circle of friends. Special education teachers say he is an example of > what's possible as they try to promote social inclusion among > students with disabilities. > > Brad Niejadlik's disability hasn't kept him from warm relationships > at Concord High. A gregarious personality has helped. So have the > efforts of his classmates. > > Brad Niejadlik springs from his chair next to the china cabinet and > peers out the dining room window. Kate's car isn't there. Not yet. > > He doesn't have to set the table tonight. He won't be home to eat > pork roast with his mother and father. Tonight, he's going bowling > with friends from school. > > He's waited weeks for this. Twice in the past few days the other kids > had to cancel at the last minute. A snowstorm, a sick grandfather - > it couldn't be helped. > > He plops down on a recliner in the living room. Seconds later, he's > back at the window. > > Niejadlik joined the extracurricular Epicurean Club at CHS at the > urging of Madden (red shirt), a friend since elementary school > at Beaver Meadow. > > " They're good friends, " he says, reassuring himself. " They'll come. > They'll come. " > > Brad Niejadlik (pronounced Nee-AD-lik) is 19 years old. He is 6- foot- > 1, athletic, handsome, with thick brown hair and a joyful sense of > humor. He has perfect manners. He never forgets a face. > > And he has a developmental disability. When he speaks, his words run > together like the notes of a jazz trombone. At school, he ambles > through the hallways almost like any other kid, but he leans forward > a bit too far. He is learning how to count change. > > When he does, he'll be allowed to run the cash register at the > student store. He's a big fan of Sports Illustrated, but he has very > limited reading and writing ability. > > Niejadlik looks out the window of his family home as he waits for > friends to pick him up. " If he has a happy life – that's > all anybody can expect for and hope for for their children, " his > mother, Carrigg, said. > > One of the most remarkable things about Niejadlik is that he has made > friends with kids without disabilities -or, to use the term special > educators prefer, " typical " students. In Concord, a district long > known for its practice of including students with disabilities in > regular academic classes, special educators see social integration as > their next challenge. Next year, with the help of a $32,000 grant > from the Bubel/Aiken Foundation, the high school will offer a new > class to typical students designed to teach them how to include > students with disabilities in their academic and social lives. > > They see Niejadlik as an example of what is possible. > > When he walks down the hall, kids passing by him call out " Brad! " and > slap him a high-five. Students in his classes volunteer to help him > with assignments. Sometimes he goes bowling with one of the captains > of the football team, or to a hockey game with a couple of smart, > pretty girls who are also his prom dates. > > As a child, his relationships with typical kids could be terribly > painful. They can be even now - and not just because of the > occasional name-calling. He lives for the nights he goes out on the > town with his friends, and when plans go awry - as they often do in > the lives of busy teenagers - he is crushed. And though his friends > adore him, he doesn't participate in so many of the usual rites of > adolescence. He doesn't stay out late, or psychoanalyze romantic > relationships, or go to raging parties. > > He has a full social life outside of school. He is extraordinarily > close with his parents, Carrigg and Tom Niejadlik, and though > he has no siblings, he has a large extended family within driving > distance. His cousins think of him as a brother, and he basks in the > adoration of his grandmothers. > > He also swims and plays basketball in Special Olympics. He talks on > the phone for hours with fellow athletes, and every so often, he goes > out to dinner and the movies with their families, or to dances for > teenagers with disabilities. > > Carrigg and Niejadlik are their son's teachers, his interpreters and, > not least, his social directors. But the one thing they can't do is > negotiate his relationships with typical teens. No longer children > who can be summoned for a play date with a phone call to their > parents, Niejadlik's classmates are mostly running their own lives > now. They drive around town by themselves, their busy schedules > packed with academics, athletics, part-time jobs and dates. > > Just as his parents want their son to have friends with disabilities, > they also believe it's critical for him to have friends who don't. > > " He wants to feel accepted, just like any other kid would want to > feel accepted in the school community, " Carrigg said. " Someday he's > going to have a job. And when he goes in the lunchroom, is he > supposed to sit by himself, or is he supposed to learn how to be > integrated into the group with other people he works with? Because > that's the real world. " > > Though pursuing these friendships requires the family to " depend on > the kindness of others to help him have a life, " Carrigg said, it's a > risk that has paid off. > > Like the other night, when Niejadlik waited anxiously for Kate Supry > to come take him bowling. > > Every minute or so, for a half-hour straight, Niejadlik jumped up > from his chair to look out the window. Finally, finally - right on > time - Supry's silver Ford Focus came zipping into the driveway. > > " Just hang back, Brad, she'll come to the door, " his father said. > > Or not. > > " You coming, Brad? " Surpry shouted from outside. > > He kissed his dad on the cheek and bolted out the door. > > Striking a balance > > In teaching their little boy to navigate the world outside their snug > white Cape off Sewalls Falls Road, Niejadlik's parents tried to > strike a balance, protecting him from unnecessary hurt without > sheltering him too much. It took Niejadlik much longer than the other > boys on his street to learn to ride a bike, so Carrigg would put his > two-wheeler in the trunk and drive him somewhere where could practice > without being embarrassed. But when he came in from playing upset > about something, his parents would comfort him and then send him back > outside. How else, they thought, would he learn to take care of > himself? > > It could be tough, though. A boy who lived down the street once had a > birthday party and invited everyone but Niejadlik, who miserably > watched the balloons and the kids arriving from the front window. > Another time, a playmate said, " My father says Brad's not on our > team. " There were other, crueler episodes, too, things his family > would rather not dredge up now. > > But Niejadlik's childhood was also full of delight. Beaver Meadow > School was like a family to him, and he adored the teachers and > aides, who included him in everything the other kids did. And with > his sunny, outgoing disposition - " He's always happy, he's always in a > good mood, " his father said - Niejadlik made lots of friends. > > s, who lived next door, would come over to wrestle, to > bang on Niejadlik's drum set or go swimming in the backyard pool. > > " He was my best friend, " s recalled recently. " He was just like > a regular kid. " > > There were also the Madden boys, sons of Concord Police Chief Jerry > Madden, who lived around the corner. After school, , who was > Niejadlik's " reading buddy " at school, and his younger brother > would play street hockey next to Niejadlik's house. > > " We wouldn't let people mess with Brad because we knew how good of a > kid he was, " Madden said in an interview the other day. " I > think a lot of kids knew that. " > > Rundlett Middle School was a rough ride. Niejadlik found himself in a > huge school, separated from many of his closest friends. > > " Sixth grade was terrible, " Carrigg said. " He was just a target. He > would get spit on outside, waiting for the bus. " > > But he always had an ally, she said. One youngster would always come > tell her what happened, even if it was too late to do anything about > it. > > As his classmates matured, so did their sense of compassion, which > teachers helped nurture. An aide at Rundlett would recruit students > who made fun of kids with disabilities to be their helpers. And > allies like s and Madden - this year's homecoming > king and co-captain of the football and hockey teams - led the others > by example. > > " If it was cool for them to be friends with him, then it was okay for > other kids to be friends with him, " Tom Niejadlik said. > > Knight, now a senior at Concord High, remembers how kids > would treat Niejadlik at Rundlett - and how, in high school, that > began to change. > > " I always felt bad that people would make fun of him, " he said. > > " I didn't really do anything about it. was the first person to > really step up. " > > This year, Knight sees Niejadlik at the Epicurean Club - thanks to > Madden, who, at a teacher's suggestion, brings Niejadlik to meetings > each Thursday. > > One afternoon in January, the three boys sat around a crowded table > in one of the art rooms, planning the club's chili cook-off. > > " He's become like, a good kid, kind of a friend of ours, " Knight > said. " He's really funny, he has really good jokes. People laugh with > him, not at him. " > > Instantaneously friendly > > The other night, Boutwell's Bowling Center was packed with families > and league players, all shouting above the rumbling balls and > clattering candlepins. > > Niejadlik sat along a wall, kidding around with Supry and two other > boys from school, Matt Unger and Mike Ferguson, as they waited for a > lane to open. > > Supry hadn't worn socks - the fashion is to go without, even in the > middle of winter - and she wrinkled her nose as she pulled on her > bowling shoes. > > " Why didn't you bring my socks, Brad? " she said. > > Niejadlik threw up his hands in mock frustration. > > " I've been listening to her all day, " he said. > > " My toes are, like, right to the end. " > > A year ago, Niejadlik wouldn't have socialized outside of school with > any of these kids. His friendships have taken flight this year thanks > to a combination of factors - open, accepting classmates, a little > nudging from some teachers, and perhaps most importantly, Niejadlik's > innate gregariousness. > > " He has the uncanny ability to meet somebody and just instantaneously > become really friendly with that person, " said Kate s, a special > education teacher. " He remembers that person's name, what the person > does and is genuinely interested in that person. " > > Back in September, Unger, a co-captain of the football team, told > Niejadlik that he'd seen him bowling over the summer. Niejadlik > challenged him to a match, and Unger said sure, he'd go sometime. The > breezy banter continued until a teacher approached Unger. Niejadlik, > the teacher said, was really excited about their bowling trip. > > " I hadn't realized, " Unger said. " So I called his dad to make sure it > was cool. " > > Since then, Unger has taken Niejadlik to Boutwell's a few times, and > once to see Meet the Fockers. His group has become Niejadlik's, too. > At lunch, where many students with disabilities sit together at one > table with their aides -effectively segregated from the other > students - Niejadlik eats with the upperclassmen jocks in the back > corner of the cafeteria. > > " He's friends with everybody, " Unger said. " There isn't anybody he > doesn't like. " > > Meanwhile, Niejadlik also met Supry and Whitney Pillsbury in > marketing class this fall. The girls are juniors at Merrimack Valley > Regional High School, where Supry is on the soccer team, but they > come to Concord High for marketing, which is part of the Regional > Vocational Center. > > " The first time I really talked to him was when we had to stock > together, " Supry said. (Marketing students run the student store, and > they restock the juice and water coolers every morning.) " Of course, > he wasn't doing anything. So I was like, 'Brad, you've got to help me > out, come on.' And after that he started always talking to me. " > > Pillsbury and Supry became two of Niejadlik's best friends at school. > In class, he usually pairs up with one of them to restock juice or > bake cookies, or to work on academic assignments. > > It wasn't long before Supry and Pillsbury began taking Niejadlik out > to dinner or to hockey games. And, earlier this year, after he > dropped hints about the prom, they made it a date. > > The girls say they aren't going with him out of a sense of > obligation, or as a kind of community service. They're going with him > because they want have a good time. > > " It's not going to be awkward, it's not going to be uncomfortable, > it's going to be fun night, " Supry said. > > Walking through the high school halls with Niejadlik, watching how > many kids call out hello or trade inside jokes with him as they pass, > it's not hard to see what she means. > > " My cousin's a senior at Concord High, " Pillsbury said. " And when I > told him I'm going to the prom with Brad, he's like, 'The Brad?' I'm > like, 'Wow, I'm going with a pretty popular kid here.' " > > Friendships with limits > > Yet Niejadlik will never be just like the other kids, and there are > limits - real or imposed - to his friendships with them. > > The kids at school would never consider taking him to a party where > kids were drinking. Not only do they think it would be irresponsible > but they also sense that Niejadlik would hate it. > > Niejadlik is a stickler for the rules - he won't even listen to rap > songs that have swear words in them - and adults have drilled into > him the dangers of drinking and doing drugs. > > " It's kind of very dangerous, very stupid, " he said. " I don't want to > do that stuff. " > > And then there is dating. He has a crush on Austin Mullins, a > thoughtful senior with big brown eyes who was in his public speaking > class first semester. He becomes unusually shy when she's around, she > said. Every once in a while he works up the nerve to talk to her. > > " He'll say, 'Austin, you have a special place in my heart,' " Mullins > said. > > She is flattered, and she is sweet to him, just as she would be to > any other kid she liked as a friend. Unlike many high school boys, > Niejadlik is so restrained, so respectful, that she doesn't have to > worry about fending him off like she might with other boys. Still, > Mullins wonders sometimes whether Niejadlik realizes she doesn't like > him in that way - and whether that's okay with him. She doesn't want > to hurt his feelings. > > " You can't talk to him about it, " she said. " I don't feel comfortable > talking to him about his disability. " > > Madden wonders, too, when Niejadlik asks him about Mullins. > > " It's hard, " he said. " You want him to have the same opportunities > and chances as everybody else, but he just can't sometimes. And you > don't want that, especially with a kid like Brad. For now, that (his > crush on Mullins) may hold him over, be sufficient enough. But > sometimes when you hear about it, you're like, is he ever going to > find someone? It would be awesome if he did. " > > Niejadlik's mother says her son seems to draw his own boundaries > around his feelings for the girls at school. > > " When we talk about Whitney and Kate, and what do you think about > them, he says, 'I think they're very pretty and so nice, but we're > just friends,' " Carrigg said. " He just gets it - he understands the > limits of the kids in school, the typical kids in school. " > > He often asks a young woman who also has a developmental disability > to Special Olympics dances, she said. When his parents mentioned her > name in front of a reporter, Niejadlik buried his head in his hands > and begged them not to talk about her. > > " She's a friend, " Carrigg said. She smiled, gently teasing him. " I > did see him with his arm around her once or twice. " > > " Mom! " > > 'As good as we can make it' > > Romance aside, though, Niejadlik isn't anyone's constant companion or > confidante. > > Most nights, he hangs out with his parents until his 9 p.m. bedtime. > Unger often stays out until 10 p.m., and on most weekends, he spends > the night at a friend's house. He and Ferguson, his best friend, > spend hours hanging out with throngs of other kids at Ferguson's > house. Niejadlik has never been there. > > " Brad's my friend, but he'll never be like Fergie, " Unger > said. " There are certain limitations about what he can do, that's > just what you've got to accept. I try to make it as good as we can > make it. " > > Niejadlik's friends - and even his family - often wonder what he is > thinking. His parents spend a lot of time encouraging him to express > his feelings. Sometimes it takes hours, or days, for him to > articulate them. > > " He's a mystery to us, too, in a lot of ways, " his mother said. > > But Niejadlik is not reserved when it comes to expressing his concern > and affection for other people. He often asks Supry or > Pillsbury, " Why are you guys so wonderful? " And last fall, when his > special education teacher Kate s returned to school after > losing her father, he sensed how deeply she was grieving. > > " He came up to me one day in school and said, 'I just want you to > know, I'm sorry. I'd like to give you a hug or something,' " she said. > They hugged. Niejadlik said, " My mom and I pray for you at night. " > > " I started to cry, " she said. " He got a little nervous, he said, 'Oh > Kate, I didn't mean to upset you.' I said, " Oh, no, no, no, Brad, > it's just a nice thing to say.' " > > Later, he made a card for her. " Kate, " it said, " I know your dad is in > heaven watching down on you. " s still keeps it on her > nightstand. > > And though exchanging confidences often defines high school > friendships, the kids say that part of what they value most about > their relationship with Niejadlik is its simplicity. > > " He's a happy kid, " Unger said. " We talk about West Wing and TV and > girls -that's the funnest part, talking about girls. Nothing > inappropriate, just, 'Look at that chick over there.' " > > " Whenever we hang out, it's just fun, " Supry said. " It's never > awkward. We're always talking about something. We're always laughing > when we're with Brad. And he's always open, he's not afraid to say > anything. " > > The girls are the ones who ask Niejadlik to go out after school, she > said - not the other way around. It's something they look forward to, > they said. > > " My friendship with Brad is just easy, it's not complicated, there > are no hidden messages, no, 'What are you thinking?'all the time, " > Pillsbury said. " It's just a carefree friendship. " > > For Pillsbury, there is a flip side to Niejadlik's inability to > dissect relationships and emotions in the way other teenagers can. > When she wakes up in a funk, she can't complain to Niejadlik about it > during their first period class together. While venting can be a > relief, she observed, sometimes it's better to just forget about your > bad mood. > > " You're forced to just laugh it off and be like, 'What's up, Brad?' " > she said. > > Niejadlik, she said, helps her " see life from a different point of > view. " > > " I'm always looking way into the future, stressing out about work or > school or friends or boys, " she said. " Where with Brad, it's just > live life to the fullest, just live it day by day. " > > Back at school > > Next year, Niejadlik will be back at Concord High. Though he is a > senior and he'll walk with his class in June - the kids he grew up > with wanted him to graduate with them - as a student with a > disability, he can stay in school until he turns 21. His parents > would like him to have as much vocational experience as possible. > > Madden will be off to College in the fall; Unger is trying > to decide between Plymouth State University and two schools in > Massachusetts. Pillsbury and Supry will be around for another year, > though, before they graduate. > > Niejadlik's parents have high expectations for their son. They would > like him to have a job, to have a social life and to be involved in > community service. (He already has internships at Concord Hospital, > where he delivers packages, and at Hannaford, where he works in the > produce department.) They don't know how independent he'll be, or > whether he'll learn to drive - they take it day by day. > > " We're not going to put any limits on him, " said his father. > > " If he's happy in a little job after high school, and he does some > volunteering, and he has friends here and people who care about him - > if he has a happy life - that's all anybody can expect for and hope > for for their children, " his mother said. > > All of his friends say they hope to keep in touch with Niejadlik > after they leave town. They imagine taking him out when they're home > visiting their parents, just like they do now. > > " I'll never be far away, " Madden said. > > " I think that if I come home for a weekend and I'm with Whitney, I > can see myself being like, 'Let's call Brad and go get ice cream,' " > Supry said. " I like him. He's cool. I want to hang out with him. " > > Asked what he thinks Niejadlik's life will be like when he is 40 or > 50, Unger smiled. > > " Everyone will know him and like him, " he said. " He'll just be the > friendly guy, you know. There will be people out there who make fun > of him still, but hopefully people will get to know him. Once you > know him, you like him. Unless you're a jerk. But I don't even care > about those people. " > > " I think Brad's got so much to offer everybody, " Pillsbury said. " I > think he'll continue giving forever. " > > (Monitor photographer Dan Habib contributed reporting to this story. > For additional photos from this story, go to > http://www.concordmonitor.com and click on the photography/galleries > section.) > > ------ End of article > > By LISA WANGSNESS > Monitor staff Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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