When I initially (and impulsively) volunteered myself to write a little something for this edition of The Courier, I was, quite frankly, at a complete loss for what to say. I was feeling a little silly for being too enthusiastic, too bold, too much. My big, impassioned feelings, even the joyful ones, could once again get me into trouble, an experience and narrative with which, as an autistic woman, I am all too familiar. But when it was suggested I write about what it’s like to be an intern here at Cheerful Helpers, though, I instantly had so very much to say.
Because much like these brilliant, creative, hilarious, witty and passionate kids, I have also known what it’s like to have feelings too big for my body and not know what to do with them or how to explain them. I’ve known what it's like to not know how to safely get them out or, worse, to have people try and shove them back in, out of sight, out of their mind and back into my own. But the world can quickly become a confusing and lonely place when you can’t see the map through the cloud of your own feelings and even more so when the adults around you have never seen a map like yours. In turn, it has quickly become one of my life’s greatest joys to have the privilege of sitting with these children in the eye of the storm of their own big feelings, to say “I’m holding the map: I can read it and direct us until the storm passes and then I can hand it to you and teach you to read it yourself.”
Every day I come to Cheerful Helpers is, indeed, a cheerful day for me. And each day is also a helping one. Because in helping these children, these children have unknowingly helped me. In celebrating their storms and their rainbows alike, I have been further encouraged to see my storms, though now much smaller, not as dangerous and destructive, but as beautiful, common, necessary acts of nature, and with the rainbow, a reminder that different ways of experiencing these big feelings are indeed not less. They’re just different. Happy, sad, angry, excited, nervous. All of these feelings are important and necessary and there are many safe and respectful ways to express them that don’t deny us our own unique way of experiencing.
So what would I say if directly asked “What is it like to be an intern at Cheerful Helpers?” I guess the answer could really be boiled down to “It’s like feeling at home in the world and helping someone find a way to do the same.” And more than that, it is an absolute privilege and a joy. It is a joy to dance with these kids, to sit with them while they cry, to talk to them about birds and trees and invisible strings and goodbyes and yellow zones and red zones and blue zones and green ones too. It is a joy to weather their storms and “ooh and aah" at their rainbows and study their maps together to figure out what next adventure awaits them and how they will navigate the wild terrain. To be an intern at Cheerful Helpers is to have the privilege of experiencing it all boldly, compassionately, and cheerfully. But I guess I could really cut down the word count and just say, ”It’s awesome.”
