Tim’s story

In many ways, fifteen-year-old Tim Calwell-Browne is just like his classmates at Tarremah Steiner School, near Hobart, Tasmania. Like them, he participates in the challenging camps, completes woodwork, craft and English projects, takes part in the class play, and enjoys showing off his skills on the basketball court at lunchtime. And like them, being in Class 8 this year has meant undertaking an unusually large-scale project, known in Steiner schools as the “Independent Project”. Read more about Tim’s project by  clicking here.

Tim’s journey through life to this point has by no means been straightforward, so it fills us – his parents - with tremendous joy every day to see how wonderfully he engages with the people and activities around him, because it wasn’t always this way. Although Tim was diagnosed with Trisomy 21 – also known as Down syndrome – at birth, it wasn’t until he was nearly six that we were able to name, and thereby “come to terms with” a second condition that was seriously affecting his development and behaviour at that time – autism.

A label like autism may be a blessing or a curse, depending on your perspective at any given time. For us initially, it was a great relief – we no longer felt helpless and alone with our differently developing child. Through Internet “Lists” we were able to connect with many other parents who, like ourselves, were searching for anything that might help their child to learn and thrive again. We also sought advice from many experts, and experimented with various therapies, diets and supplements. Some helped, and were retained; others were eventually discarded. It was an emotionally fraught, hit-and-miss process, which I used to liken to “putting together a huge, unknown puzzle in the dark”, yet we felt we had no choice but to continue.

Over time we found that a special diet and certain supplements helped to stabilise Tim’s health, which had not been great for some years. We realised then how fundamental good health was to his learning and development – and he slowly began to move forward. Even then, because of the nature of autism, each new skill had to be broken down into tiny steps, and taught in a particular way. The key was to find something – a favourite food or toy - that Tim wanted so much that he would be prepared to engage with us and play our “games” for a minute or two just to have the desired object back again.

Finding the object that had the power to motivate Tim was actually easy. From the time he was two years old, when his brother Asher was born, Tim had been entertaining himself by repeatedly throwing anything he could get his hands on (particularly balls) into the bushes in the backyard. For a while - before we recognised this behaviour as a sign of autism - we thought it was cute the way he would thoughtfully watch the ball trickle down through the leaves, smiling to himself, and flapping his hands a little, then repeat the whole process, over and over…and over. It became clear that all we had to do, to build the bridge that would connect Tim to the world of people and learning again, was join him in his obsession with balls!

We consequently spent more time than you can imagine clowning around with balls, throwing, catching, kicking, or batting them – it didn’t matter. Whatever entertained Tim became the medium through which we were able to teach him everything, from simple instructions like “clap hands” or “touch your nose”, to reading sight words and practising speech. This made life at home very intense for many years, especially since our family by then included a third child, our daughter Miranda, who is now eight.

With the special intensive program and lots of assistance from his aides and teachers at school, from his brother Asher, and other helpers at home, Tim has made slow but steady progress in all areas. From the child who avoided challenges and was difficult to engage with, Tim has blossomed – and continues to blossom - into a truly delightful student and person, much loved by everyone who knows him, especially for his warmth and cheeky sense of humour!

Speech and auditory processing continue to be major challenges for Tim, but he is still learning. And since he has already far outstripped our expectations of what he might achieve, we no longer bother trying to guess at what his potential might be! These days we hardly ever use the word “autism” to describe how he is different either – somehow it just doesn’t seem relevant. Tim is just himself.

At the end of August this year each student in Class 8, including Tim, was required to give a presentation about their “Independent Project” to a group of their peers, parents and teachers. I wrote Tim’s short speech and for the week or two prior to the “big day” he practised it along with his classmates, learning to speak out more loudly, and doing his best to say each word clearly.

When Presentation day finally arrived, Tim was just as excited as everyone else. Each student’s display - consisting of their Project journal and whatever else they were able to show - was laid out in one room first thing in the morning, while another room was prepared for the speeches. At the appointed time, this room filled with students, parents, mentors, and teachers, and the air of expectancy was almost tangible! The Class 8 students sat in front of the crowd and each got up in turn to tell us about their project. When Tim’s turn came, the room fell extraordinarily quiet - it was as if the air itself stood at attention and listened respectfully along with every person in the room.

I wish I could tell you that the words fell in a crystal-clear stream from his lips and that the crowd went wild with applause – that would have been completely miraculous (but not much like real life)! Instead, nervousness played havoc with our meticulous preparations, like an Autumn wind with a pile of carefully raked leaves, and I would say that, among all the people in the room, only Tim’s aide and I were able to pick up more than a few words of the speech as he read it, with all the reassuring “self-chatter” that his nervousness added to the performance.…but that was no longer the point. The point was that Tim had done it – like all his classmates, independently and unaided - and the crowd went wild!

How well those two words, “pride” and “joy” go together for parents, particularly those who, like us, have watched and nurtured the progress of a particularly sensitive and beautiful child of this earth. Today, as I watch Tim doing all the things he does – showing off his fancy tricks at Special Olympics basketball, or listening to his I-pod, or absorbed in drawing, or smiling at us as he drums away on his new “birthday drum” – is it any wonder that I can do nothing but marvel at the fine young man he has become?

I hope you enjoy Tim’s cards – he has certainly enjoyed every part of the process that brings them to you! Thank you for reading his story.

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