The couch feels like I’m sitting on concrete but I grin and bear it. I can afford a little pain right now. After all, this interview is almost over and it’s going so well. It’s also my fifth interview in the span of seven weeks.
The person I’m interviewing right now is eight-year-old Denise Farrell (she has Down syndrome).
“So, what is your best quality? Like, what do you want people to think of when they meet you?”
“Silly goose. I’m a silly goose.”
“She loves saying that.” Denise’s father says, seated across from us in a kitchen chair.
I told him not to interrupt before we started filming, there’s been too much of that lately. If I needed him for the interview I would motion for him. I look at Meylin for help, who is sitting right next to him, but she just continues to film.
I then turn towards Denise for my final question. “Okay. If someone wanted to be your friend, what should they do?”
“They should…they should…do the chicken dance.”
“Is there another way or…”
“Chicken dance. Chicken dance.” Denise squeals.
“Come on, Autumn. It’ll be fun and you’ll have a new friend. Think of it like that.” Meylin suggests. I can tell, by the look on her face, that she really wants to see me make a spectacle of myself.
“Okay, uh, if that’s what you want.”
“Yay.” Denise shouts.
“Um, why don’t you take the lead and I’ll follow your movements.”
Denise waves her arms in the air and shakes them. She then jumps up and down on the couch while screaming her head off. I imitate her and yes I feel ridiculous, thank you for asking. I just know Meylin is enjoying every minute of this.
Finally, with that bit of business concluded, I stand up from the couch.
“I’m not sure if that was the chicken dance or not but thank you for inviting me into your home. I’m happy to have made a new friend.”
And that’s another interview concluded for my series. That wasn’t too bad (in spite of me trying to dance).
By the time I get home, my back aches as I toss my backpack onto my bed.
“You know, you can volunteer to carry the equipment sometimes.” I say and unable to hide my annoyance at Meylin.
“I’m the director. That’s the only thing I have to do.”
“Whatever.”
“Hey, this is your project, okay. You’re lucky I’m helping you in the first place.”
She does have a point. Maybe I just need to relax. Yeah, that’s unlikely to happen, especially since Spirit Scribe started filming again last week. I just don’t know how much time I can devote to this right now.
“Don’t even think about it. This is your thing. I’m not going solo on this.” Meylin protests as if reading my thoughts.
I don’t say anything as I sit down on the edge of my bed and wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead.
Look, it’s not all doom and gloom. The channel has grown exponentially since its inception. I even had to create a separate “Special Friends” Instagram, divorced from the one bearing my name. And don’t forget about the comments. I love reading them. These people really look up to me like I’m a superhero or something.
They post things like I really inspire them and how they’ve learned so much about people with disabilities. That I also give them a voice and raise awareness about conditions they face. Yeah, those are just a few examples of all the praise that I’ve earned.
Wait. I can’t forget about all the people that compare me to Mr. Rogers. You don’t believe me? Well, coincidentally enough, I have a witness standing right next to me.
“You remember those comments that compared me to Mr. Rogers?”
Meylin pretends to gag but, whether she likes it or not, that’s still confirmation.
I take out my phone and start checking the Special Friends email. My inbox is usually full of people claiming to have learning or developmental disabilities. Most of them are unfit to be interviewed for a variety of reasons but I always find that one gem.
“Can’t we do something fun now? You just got home from an interview and now you’re checking your email? Makes no sense.” Meylin complains.
“It’ll just take a second. I just want to clear my inbox.”
Hello. What’s this? A university email address. I don’t usually get a lot of requests from adults (mostly just kids).
“That’s interesting.”
“What is it?” Meylin asks.
“I just got an email from a graduate student. Says he’s studying at Monmouth University.”
“Where’s that?”
“It’s a college in New Jersey. My Mom was a guest speaker at a seminar there, a couple of years ago.”
“Open it up. I want to see what he says.”
“Okay, chill. I’m opening it now.”
Special Friends,
Hi, my name is Todd King and I’m a graduate student at Monmouth University. I’m interested in being interviewed by Special Friends because of the awareness this organization raises for those with disabilities. The story that Autumn shared about being bullied truly resonated with me. Like, Autumn, I also have learning disabilities and relish the opportunity to share my experiences on her platform. Further, the interviews thus far have been incredibly enlightening and educational. As a History major, the importance that these interviews have in changing the conversation about disabilities cannot be overstated.
Best,
Todd King s0617680@monmouth.edu
“I don’t know. Think I’m going to pass.” I confess.
“What? Why? Didn’t you just read the same email that I just did?”
“Yeah. It’s just that…”
“He’s not lying. Check his email address. It’s from the university so…”
“No. It’s not that, Meylin. Look…I’m used to interviewing kids, okay. That’s the main source of growth for Special Friends.”
“So what? Expand your growth then. He’s a graduate student. Think of everything he can contribute.”
“People like what they like.”
“You haven’t even given him a chance. How about that talk you gave when this all started, huh? About how you were trying to educate people. It doesn’t look that way to me.”
“No. Instead, you ask the same questions all the time. Asking about the best way to be a friend or however you phrase it. How’s that educating people, huh?” Meylin says.
“Okay, okay. Relax. It sounds like you have a stake in this guy or something. Jeez.”
“You really don’t get it, do you? Monmouth isn’t that far away. When people, with disabilities, see what Todd was able to accomplish (going to college and all that stuff). It could really inspire people, you know. More so than just interviewing a bunch of little kids who haven’t done anything with their lives yet.”
Meylin clearly sees something in him and, as usual, her criticisms about my work are spot on. The repetition of content is starting to become more noticeable. She isn’t even the first one to address the issue (my parents have even said something to me about it). I was just too far in my comfort zone when Meylin called me out on it. I really don’t think there’s a downside to occasionally doing something new. If it doesn’t work, I can always go back to interviewing kids exclusively.
“You know what? Never mind. Let’s try it.”
“That’s awesome. See, that’s why you need me around.” Meylin gushes in excitement.
“Autumn…”
“Yeah?”
“I was thinking when the interview is over, you know, I could ask Todd about going to college. Is that cool?”
“Um, sure, go for it. You realize my parents are college professors, right?”
“I know that. I just…Todd is closer to being a student than your parents.”
“Whatever. Listen, I’m going to email him back and tell my parents. They have to talk to him first since he’s an adult.”
“You want to come up with questions now?” Meylin asks.
“That’s a first. Didn’t you say that you wanted to do something fun?”
“V’a. So, I changed my mind. Who cares? You want to get this right or not?”
Meylin walks over to my nightstand and grabs the laptop. She then plops down on the bed right next to me.
“Um, shouldn’t I be typing the questions since it’s my laptop?”
Meylin shushes me as she types in my password to gain access. And, yes, we know each other’s passwords. It’s called trust and I don’t care how reckless you think it is. We’re best friends so deal.
“How about…ask him the process he went through in applying and being accepted into Monmouth. Like, did he think his learning disability played a factor?” Meylin suggests.
“That’s a good one. We’ll use it.”
Meylin types as I search my brain for another question. It’s actually difficult coming up with questions. I haven’t done it since the first interview.
“Okay. Let me think…got it. Let’s ask Todd if he used any accommodations in his classes.”
“Huh? I didn’t know they have IEPs in college too.” Meylin says.
“Not exactly. However, universities still have a disability office where students can apply to receive accommodations or extra help.”
“Wow. That’s cool. I didn’t know that.”
“I just thought of another one. Ask him how difficult he thought high school was, if it prepared him for college or, like, how the transition was like. And because of his disabilities was it more challenging?”
“Awesome. I like it.” I compliment Meylin as she continues to type.
“Wait a second. You have to take Math classes in college even if you’re not majoring in it, right?” Meylin asks.
“Yeah. It really depends on what major you’re pursuing. But, on the whole, and no matter what you’re majoring in, you have to take at least some Math classes.”
“On that note, ask him how challenging he found college Math and if he had to take any remedial classes to help (plus whether accommodations were helpful).” I add to my initial question.
“Remedial? What’s that?” Meylin asks.
“It’s just basic level classes and stuff like that. It’s meant to help slower students catch up.”
“Oh.”
“I got a good one. Listen to this. Ask him if he was comfortable talking about his disabilities with his classmates, and professors, or did he just keep it to himself.” Meylin says.
“This is really good stuff, Meylin.”
“Did you have any doubt? Hey, once I start coming up with questions, I don’t play games.”
“I think that’s good for right now. You can text me later if you come up with anything else.” I tell her.
“Got it. I already know the answer to this question, but do you want to go down to the courts with me? Kanisha and the other girls will probably be there. I know you’re not on the team but you can still practice with us.”
Wow. Nice cheap shot, Meylin. Honestly, I’m getting real tired of this guilt trip stuff she’s been laying on me. I tell her all the time that I’m busy but it’s like I’m wasting my energy. And to think we had a real productive work session too.
“Nah. I’m going to wait for my parents to get home and tell them about Todd.”
“Okay. I’ll text you later. See ya.”
Meylin then leaves the apartment while I get up off the couch. My back’s still killing me so maybe lying down on my bed will help (wouldn’t be able to play basketball now even if I wasn’t focused on Special Friends).
The soft mattress instantly provides some relief as I stretch out on my comfortable bed.
Notwithstanding Meylin coaxing me to play basketball, I’m really satisfied with the progress made today. For the first time, Meylin is actually excited about interviewing someone for my project. I’ll take that as a win any day of the week. Just have to wait for my parents to get home so they can approve him. I’m sure they will, though. Then everything will come together. You’ll see.
Related Articles:
Being Special, Chapter 1: https://baltimoreraven87.medium.com/being-special-chapter-1-b5e175dc0d00
Being Special, Chapter 2: https://baltimoreraven87.medium.com/being-special-chapter-2-4c622095b4e9
Being Special, Chapter 3: https://baltimoreraven87.medium.com/being-special-chapter-3-9515c777c14
Being Special, Chapter 4: https://baltimoreraven87.medium.com/being-special-chapter-4-d9f850a08edd
Being Special, Chapter 5: https://baltimoreraven87.medium.com/being-special-chapter-5-d7160ad484ca
Being Special, Chapter 6: https://baltimoreraven87.medium.com/being-special-chapter-6-f7045cc44661
Being Special, Chapter 7: https://baltimoreraven87.medium.com/being-special-chapter-7-fb4e7af04c7b
Being Special, Chapter 8: https://baltimoreraven87.medium.com/being-special-chapter-8-d490a7b0bcae
