A schoolgirl’s experience of institutional care
‘She was at a loss, close to tears. Her baby skills were not working here’
This is number 20 of fifty pieces of poetry and prose written by Peter Limbrick as a monument to adults and children who have lived and died or are living now in inhuman situations. They are all inspired by real experience.
Schoolgirl
A sea of cots, a noise of unhappy babies echoing in a bare
room. Shuki did not expect volunteering to be so hard when
she offered to help at the mental handicap hospital. She turned
up on Saturday morning and was sent to the baby ward where
the nurse, cleaning two babies’ bottoms at the same time,
asked her to go and meet some of the babies until she had
time to talk to her, ‘But please don’t try picking them up’.
The first baby she approached was propped in the corner of
his cot biting his hand. Shuki’s instinct was to try holding the
hand to stop the biting but he jerked it back. When she tried
again, he screamed with irritation, turned his back on her and
continued biting his hand. The second baby was rocking
rhythmically back and to, smelling as though needing changing,
oblivious of Shuki speaking to her. Shuki tried a couple of
nursery rhymes she could remember then looked in nearby
cots for a teddy or a ball to distract her with but found none.
A boy, standing at his cot rails, grabbed her jacket and held
tight, not looking at her, making strange noises. With no
nappy she saw him wetting himself. Shuki pulled away, a little
frightened by now. A small baby was lying sucking her thumb.
Was she asleep? She would have liked to pick her up, give her
a cuddle. She was at a loss, close to tears. Her baby skills were
not working here.
Shuki moved from cot to cot, child to child. Why were these
babies here? What did mental handicap mean? Would these
babies be cured? She was out of her depth with nothing to
offer and by now did not have the confidence to ask the nurse
for help. Struggling to keep self-control, she crossed to the
medical room to thank the nurse then made a dash to the
door through the maze of cots. She ran along the drive to the
hospital gates and sat at the bus stop in tears. She would not
come back here, ever.
She wouldn’t answer questions at home. She hid in her room.
Shuki cried again on Sunday evening when her mother insisted
they talk. They decided it was best seen as an episode Shuki
should put behind her, an experience she had not been
prepared for. When it was time to apply to universities, Shuki
looked for courses in paediatric nursing, infant education, child
development and child psychology. The questions she had
brought from the baby ward were not forgotten. They were
demanding answers.
The other 49 pieces can be seen here:
In Mind - a written monument to all people with intellectual disability. (Items 1 to 10)
In Mind - a written monument to all people with intellectual disability. (Items 11 to 20)
In Mind - a written monument to all people with intellectual disability. (Items 21 to 30)
In Mind - a written monument to all people with intellectual disability. (Items 31 to 40)
In Mind - a written monument to all people with intellectual disability. (Items 41 to 50)
