不一样的音符

来源: 悟空孙于 2022-10-26 16:18:23 [档案] [博客] [旧帖] [给我悄悄话] 本文已被阅读：次 (5667 bytes)

不一样的音符

“很好，那么这道题呢？” 我手里拿着另一张色彩鲜艳的卡片问道，语气有些疲倦。荷西一边掰着手指一边思索着。

“12、14、16、18！” 他骄傲地宣布。

我重重地叹了口气。“不，荷西，答案是24。看见没有？2、4、6……”我跟荷西解释着，他张大了嘴巴两眼直勾勾地盯着卡片。每堂课都这样一遍遍地重复着。荷西的自闭症使得他根本学不好数学，这好像是在教一个两岁的孩子学微积分一样。“他什么都做不好的。”我脑袋里一个细小的声音在责骂道。我连忙赶走那个声音，又举起另一块卡片说道：“我们来试试这个问题，准备好了吗？”

随着辅导课的进行，荷西变得越来越不耐烦，因为他老是答不对问题。我决定不时地给他一些简单的题目，好让他平静下来。荷西发起脾气来，就像一头愤怒的公牛一样难以制服，更别提他弄的那一片狼藉了。下课铃响了，走廊里传来嘈杂的脚步声。

“今天做得不错，荷西，”我打起精神说到。“课间玩得开心，我们明天见！”我看着他跑出教室，心里感到一丝的悲哀。由于来到一个新的学校，又身带残疾，荷西没有朋友，也可能永远不会交到朋友。

休息时我从走廊穿过，我听到储藏室里传来一阵天使般快乐的乐曲声。困惑中，更是出于好奇，我走过去轻轻地推开了那扇门。屋里，在一大堆发霉的纸板箱和破桌子中间，有一台老式的旧钢琴，坐在那儿弹奏的，正是荷西。

【注】这是我翻译的儿子8年级时写的作文。他的一位同学，也是我们的邻居患有自闭症，却弹得一手好钢琴，在他发作的时候，唯有音乐才能使他安静下来。这个孩子平时看上去温文尔雅，很有礼貌，但是发病时就换了一个人，满地打滚撒泼，调戏女生甚至放火破坏学校设施……。

从这个眼前的个例我感觉，自闭症的病因目前虽没有定论，但是一定与大脑神经发育有关，从家族遗传上也能看出一些蛛丝马迹。通过精神科医生治疗，结合药物孩子的病情得到控制，生活能自理，但是智力和认知水平与常人有一定的差异。自闭症孩子往往有某些天赋，荷西就能弹一手好钢琴，黑管也吹得十分专业，音乐是他心灵的港湾。

中文的“自闭症”有很大的误导，即使在西方，现在临床上已不用“autism”一词，而是ASD （autism spectrum disorder），因为，病儿不是单单的“自闭”或仅仅性格孤僻，有的孩子甚至很健谈，滔滔不绝，主动热情的与人搭讪，这个spectrum跨度很大，不能用一个“闭”字简单概括。

现在自闭儿童越来越多吗？恐怕因为现在诊断技术提高，而且诊断标准越来越细，很多过去被认为调皮捣蛋，好动的孩子在今天都会属于某种“自闭”或ADHD，不幸的是，这些孩子一旦过早的被贴上一个标签，“mental illness”的心理暗示加上学校，家长和老师的“特别关照”会给孩子带来很多负面影响，一般华人家长也不太愿意承认自己孩子有任何心理或精神疾患。一方面，有些症状在青春期可能消失，另一方面，如不及时干预又可能日益加重，如何把握这个度，何时干预，如何干预治疗，就需要家长，学校和专业医生密切配合。

A Different Tune

“Very good. Now, how about this one?” I asked in a tired tone, holding up another brightly-coloured flash card. Jose considered this while counting on his finers.

“12, 14, 16, 18!” he exclaimed proudly.

I sighed heavily. “No Jose, this answer is 24. See? 2,4,6…” As I explained to him, he gazed at the card with his open-mouthed stare. Just a repeat of what happened every lesson. With his autistic manner, he would never be good at math; it’s like trying to teach calculus to a 2-year old. He will never be good at anything, a small voice in the back of my head chided. Shaking it away, I took up another flash card.“Let’s try this one. Ready?”

As the lesson carried on, Jose became increasingly frustrated at his inability to answer the questions correctly. I opted to give him an easy question occasionally to keep his temper down. When he had a tantrum, he was as hard to constrain as a raging bull, not to mention the mess he would make. The recess bell rang, followed by the blatant sound of feet trampling the hallway.

“Good job today Jose,” I cheerfully said to him. “Have fun at recess, and I’ll see you tomorrow!” As I watched him run off, I felt a tinge of sadness. He had no friends, being at a new school, and with his disability, it was unlikely that he’d make any.

As I walked down the hall during the break, I heard a jovial tune come from the old storage room. Perplexed, and even more curious, I went up to the door, and slowly opened it. Inside, surrounded by a mass of musty old cardboard boxes and worn tables, was an ancient-looking piano. Seated at the piano, playing it, was Jose.　