A much-needed reminder

 

   “Give me a ‘Claremont!’” the teenaged guitar player exhorted from the performance space – not even a stage – as if he was in front of a stadium full of rock fans instead of 40 or so mostly older folk music fans seated in folding chairs crammed in the well-known, beloved but small music store in Claremont on a Saturday night last month. 

   “Claremont!” the audience shouted back, somewhat quizzically but good-naturedly. 

   “Give me a ‘Claremont Folk Music Center!’” the boy went on, raising his arm, a huge crowd before his eyes. 

   “Claremont Folk Music Center!” the motley crowd shouted in good-humored response.

   It was clear that the boy, playing as part of an ensemble of four, was unusually enthusiastic and had watched a lot of big rock concerts.  It was clear that he was excited, perhaps overly excited, to be there playing in this ensemble, playing guitar and singing with Joel Rafael, a well-known figure in the folk music world who composes, sings and plays guitar and harmonica and who co-wrote some of Woody Guthrie’s songs and has performed at festivals all over the world. 

   I noticed something about the boy before the ensemble appeared, while the opening group, a trio of Claremont women, played and before the show, when he came right up to me, no doubt drawn to a fellow person with a disability.  I said hi when he said hi, conscious that, shamefully, for most of my life, I would have recoiled from him, denying that there was such a connection between us (I’m not intellectually disabled – retarded – like you are, like people always think I am!) And when he sat in the front row while the trio played, he fidgeted, rocked back and forth in his chair, made random utterances – signs of a developmental disability, perhaps on the autism spectrum. 

   So, as I have to admit, I was surprised when he joined Joel Rafael’s group and moved when Joel affectionally introduced him as his grandson Ashton, playing along a daughter on violin and vocals and a friend on guitar.  Even more noticeable was the way Joel patiently dealt his grandson’s unusual outbursts, such as when he exhorted the audience, when he told his grandmother (“grammy”) in the audience to “shut up” (“Everyone else is allowed to talk, just not grandma,” Joel joked, smiling) and when he insisted on starting a song.

   When Ashton was playing guitar and singing background vocals, he proved to be quite capable. Nevertheless, his behavior could be considered a distraction, not to mention unprofessional. But it was most evident that Joel, a consummate artist, loves and cares for his grandson and is proud of what he can do despite his disability (he mentioned that Ashton is a high school sophomore) – enough to have him be a part of his show. 

   At one point, Joel said that “that there are three important virtues – simplicity, patience and compassion” and that the last one, compassion, explained Ashton’s presence. 

   It was a bracing, important reminder, all the more so in these rough, mean times and including for, yes, me, to treat each other with respect and kindness, loving kindness.