Within two weeks of his August 25th move into the Pastres home, Tylor was enrolled in Monmouth Elementary School as a transfer student. Within hours of the beginning of class on his first day, it is probable that he had begun to formulate his plans of disruption and chaos. I have known for a long time that while he may be slow, or behind, in developing physically and socially, there is nothing slow about his brain.
Quite to the contrary. I have often marveled at Tylor's powers of observation and ability to reason, in some ways far advanced for a child of his age. After all this time, and hearing so many reports from so many different people who have experienced his disruptive and appalling actions and words, and in light of what he has said to me during our many weekend visits, I am sure of several things.
The first is this: Tylor does indeed have a real problem getting along in a group. The larger the group, the more unable he is to cope. That is the biggest of all of his problems. I have made personal observation of him when he is alone, in a group of one or two, and also in other sized groups. The pattern is that as the group gets larger his ability to concentrate on any given task diminishes, eventually to nothing.
His way of dealing with that isn't good, his attention jumps from one thing to another at an incredible rate. Too fast, in fact, to be really observed, for example, by a classroom teacher whose attention is divided between all the students. Tylor is all too well aware of this, and therefore just the mere presence of a teacher in the room is not enough to deter his questing injection of himself into everyone's business around him.
To be sure, since he cannot concentrate on any appointed task before him in a group setting, and he is not blind to the fact that he cannot concentrate in the situation he is in, his mind wanders from thing to thing or person to person or anything else that he happens to overhear, see, smell, or feel.
You will please bear in mind that I am his father, and the person that he bonded to as a baby. Even after four years of separation, for the most part. I can still predict how he will act, or react to a given situation.
The fact that there is no one there to "convince" him to at least make a concerted effort to apply himself, coupled with the fact that the only authority in the room is occupied with the rest of the class, gives Tylor pretty much free rein to look where he will, say what he thinks, or do what he wants to, in the almost absolute certainty that he will not be caught for most of his acts of disruption. I doubt that he sees much of what he does as really being aimed at disruption of the entire classroom even if it is disruptive.
It would be easy to continue at extreme length on the subject of Tylor's behavioral problems, not to mention his emotional disturbances. (And that is what this book is mostly about.) But for now I think it is more important to continue looking into what has happened to Tylor, the effect those occurrences have had on him, and how those experiences have had more to do with his current condition than CSD is willing to admit. (Not that I can blame them, if I had ever been as wrong about something, yet insisted on my rightness, as they have...)
There is also the problem that he can be, and at times is, deliberately malicious. He is fully capable of malice aforethought. Without a doubt there have been things that he has done knowing full well what he was doing was absolutely wrong. Please show me why he shouldn't. He knows that the odds are that he will not be caught. He also knows that even if he is caught, nothing will happen that can make things any worse for him than they already are. He understands that the only two people who can legally administer any form of corporal punishment are his mother or father.
Don't ask me how he knows that. I didn't tell him, and I don't think his mother did either. That only leaves two other possibilities. Someone whom he has lived with, or those wonderful, thoughtful, kind, honest and dedicated people at CSD. Did I leave out sage and infallible? I am sorry.
Have you noticed that I'm not nearly so complimentary of the Juvenile Department, the District Attorney, the Judicial Department, the Sheriffs Office, the Citizens Review Board or the Schools? The reason is that all those people just do what they're told, like good dogs. CSD is where the real power lies. Besides, I want to live up to my own creed and give full credit where it's due, and the CSD, in it's unsurpassed wisdom, has masterminded the "Saving" of Tylor.)
In some ways I have to sympathize with the staff at Monmouth Central Elementary. They had no way of knowing what Tylor was like. I've no doubt that Nikki and Alan told the school what they could to prepare them for what was involved, but even the Pastre`s at that time were working from what CSD had told them. Only a few days into Tylor's residency with them they had no experience of their own to relate.
All in all the Monmouth School did very well to do what they did, for as long as they did it. I was there for the IEP planning meetings and from that little exposure to them, my impression was that they at least tried. In the end the school finally gave up and stepped into line with what CSD wanted them to do. They really had no choice in the matter, if one remembers they are there to educate all of the children who live inside the boundaries of their district.
Also bear in mind that the Monmouth School District is a relatively small district when compared to that of Corvallis. It therefore stands to reason that their resources, while not as limited as Alpine's, are not as extensive as those available in Corvallis. Considering the size and wealth of the Monmouth District, it is not a large leap to understand the burden a child with Tylor's needs would place on the resources of money and personnel available.
The above reasons alone, (money and personnel) are more than ample to make any administrator go looking under rocks for some sort of a solution to the problem. When you add the interference of CSD's manipulation of information and twisting of what they did decide to share, it is somewhat surprising that the Monmouth School took so long to capitulate.
In the end though, they had to do something other than stay on this families leaking ship. If they did, it was certain to lead them into an expensive and fruitless court battle with CSD. Up until the last moment they could, they worked on finding an appropriate answer to the needs of Tylor. In retrospect they did wage a valiant battle, but alas, they are skilled educators, not manipulators, and were no match for their practiced adversary.
It should be noted that Monmouth did in fact have a back up resource with which they and Tylor's family may have been able to gain a handle on the situation, and on Tylor's life. The sad part is that some of the funding for Poyama comes through a source controlled by CSD, and that was the final undoing of the plan.
We had all gone to Poyama and been briefed on the programs that were available through them. Tylor had been to Poyama apparently on more than one occasion, and from what I had heard them say, all was apparently in order for him to begin a program that was to last two or more years with them. We even had in our possession a letter from the Poyamaland Administrator advising us of his acceptance in their program. All that was left to do was to await the appointed day when Tylor would actually begin attendance there.
Such was not to pass.
Again, in the eleventh hour CSD was able to pull a rabbit out of their hat. It seems that there must have been some sort of threat to cut off funding to Poyama if they went ahead with their plan to accept Tylor into the Poyamaland Program. This was reflected in a second letter from the Poyamaland Administrator directly to CSD. As I have never personally read that letter, all I can do is relate the effect the contents had on Tylor, and his ultimate placement at Waverly Childrens Home on April 13, 1991. Tylor's Tenth Birthday was only five days away, on April 18th. Have a Happy Birthday, Tylor.