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From an early age Sue Stockton realised that her son, Jason was more observant than most children. As soon as Jason could sit up his eyes scanned and his head turned from side to side to soak up information from his immediate environment. Whatever was going on around him, as a baby, he always remained focussed and responded readily to any new sounds, sights or smells with an almost fixated eagerness. By the age of fourteen months Jason was walking and speaking. As soon as he learned basic questioning techniques he would bombard his parents and family with a series of questions about everything. Initially his family found it endearing and answered his questions as best they could but by the time Jason was ready for nursery education his mum was glad to pass the gauntlet to the waiting professionals. At the first open afternoon Mrs Stockton was called into the headteacher’s office and a full report was given of Jason’s behaviour and attitudes to learning. Ms Torte said that Jason was an extremely alert and bright young man who had a thirst for knowledge. However he would spend most of the day wandering around, looking out of the window and listening to adult conversations at the expense of his more formal learning. Sue Stockton agreed with Ms Torte’s description and asked what she could do to help Jason become more focussed. Ms Torte recommended trips to the zoo, places of historical interest and finally a visit to the Educational Psychologist. The final recommendation came as a surprise and Sue questioned Ms Torte’s reasoning for this rather extreme measure. Finally they came to a consensus and an appointment was made. Two months later Sue Stockton read the report, which read, ‘ above average intelligence… excellent verbal intelligence… above average letter recognition… excellent visual memory.’ The report recommended a further test after a year and ‘Jason should remain in mainstream education for the foreseeable future.’ Sue felt relieved and went to see what her son was doing in the living room. As usual Jason was listening to the radio, watching the TV and looking out of the front window at the passing cars and pedestrians. He was alert and soaking up the environmental information. "What are you doing, Jason?" she asked as she tidied the magazine rack. "Nothing much," Jason replied fixated by the traffic passing in the street. "Hungry?" "Kind of." "I’ll make tea then." Sue left the room to start tea and watched him through the kitchen hatchway, her usual past time. Jason was a handsome, slim boy with a mop of blonde hair and piercing brown eyes. He had the demeanour of an angel. Sue watched as he turned to the TV, then back to the window and then changed the radio station to the 24-hour news service. Sue went to the fridge and pulled out some fresh pasta and sauce she had saved for afternoon tea. When she returned to the hatch the TV and radio were switched off and Jason had left the room. She turned to see Jason sitting at the table systematically scanning the kitchen for change. "The kettle’s the wrong way round. The Italian Herbs are in the wrong place. Why have you washed the floor again mummy?" "Relax Jason. Chill out! Do you want a biscuit?" Sue filled a pan with water and added some salt ready for the pasta. "Mummy, why is there so much trouble in Iraq?" Sue took a deep breath before answering. She wanted to say why don’t you go and play with your friends, but he didn’t have any as his peers found him weird. He was an isolate child happy in his own company who found sleep difficult. "The country was run by a bad man and the American and British armies invaded to overthrow him." She waited for the next question as she watched Jason re-arrange the kettle and herbs methodically. "Why haven’t they found Saddam yet?" "Because people loyal to him have hidden him from the rest of the world, Jason." Jason then asked another fifteen questions and Sue offered fifteen rather inferior answers before serving the food up into two bowls. Sue Stockton watched as Jason shovelled the pasta into his mouth, chewed it once and swallowed without taste not pleasure. His eyes scanned from his bowl to her face, her bowl, the door, the window, the kettle, the fridge, the front door and back to his bowl in a systematic visual rhythm. "Mummy?" "What now?" "Why do you keep looking at me?" "Because I love you."
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28th September 2003. Ó 2003 Steven Longman-Marshall – all rights reserved. |
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