Memories of Richard’s early life
By Molly Leishman
Molly Leishman was a teacher at a special needs school in Cupar, Fife, who had a reputation for taking on children who were rejected as too difficult by other specialist schools. Here, she tells the story of working with Richard in her own words. Richard was six years old in 1958 when they first met.
The story of Richard and his phenomenal success is one of a mother’s devotion and a father’s dedication. It is the story of a unique and wonderful talent which has been nurtured throughout by loving care. Richard has had many successes and will continue to develop, but the initial emergence of his genius cannot be surpassed for its sheer wonder. It was one of the most memorable experiences of my life, and I consider myself indeed privileged to have witnessed it.
My involvement with Richard began one afternoon at the Occupational Centre when I was visited by a most charming young woman and an angelic looking little boy. Richard was blond, blue-eyed and frail looking. Mrs Wawro had come to me almost as a last resort looking for some help for Richard. Her story was a sad one, but although she had obviously met with many rebuffs from those in authority, she showed no bitterness, just a quiet determination to do all within her power to secure some sort of education for her sorely handicapped son.
I was so impressed by her concern and her attitude I felt compelled to take Richard on trial. He was a strange restless child with beautiful flickering blue eyes, and a look of suffering way beyond his age; my heart went out to them both and I prayed that somehow I would be able to help.
It was soon very evident that there would be no easy way to find some meaningful occupation for Richard. He was never still, unable to see properly or to speak, and always I felt he suffered. His high pitched screams and wild spinning spoke of pain and frustration.
The only thing Richard had in common with the other children was a love of music, but he differed from them in that he was selective in his choice. Some of our records made him react quite violently he disliked them so much. I really never found out why. Drumming was one of Richard’s pleasures, using desks and chairs as bongos.
I noticed that Richard became interested and attracted to moving or flickering light, and would watch entranced for quite long periods. This was something I felt I could use in my search for an occupation for this restless little lad. With this in mind, I made mobiles and toys with shiny coloured silver paper, even covering building bricks with it and hoped that this would be the breakthrough. It was! and Richard began to sit at his desk playing with all these shiny bits and bobs, smiling and making happy little noises as they caught the light. That was indeed a happy day.
I made use of this interest in light and reflections in other ways too. Water play works wonders with a disturbed child and calms many a tantrum. Richard would be too carried away even to splash his hands in the water. However, I put the light on and took his hands, moving them about in the water, breaking the light and as soon as he caught sight of the flickering reflection, he would calm down and begin to play in the water himself.
One day I thought Richard was quiet enough to try something new, so I pinned paper to his desk and taking a large red wax crayon, I scribbled a few lines. He was interested, but at first refused to hold the crayon. However, I held it in his hand for him and moved his hand across the paper, and eventually he got the idea and began to scribble some lines himself. He did this of course with his eyes close to the paper. It soon became Richard’s favourite occupation, and he began to use all the colours given to him with obvious enjoyment.
As yet there was no indication of what was to come, and Richard’s drawings were hung on the wall with the rest of the children’s. They were no better and no worse than the others. Some attempted men and animals but most just scribbled like Richard. At this stage it was no more than a wonderful therapy for him.
It is difficult to describe the emergence of his first picture: so unexpected it was. I went to see how his drawing was progressing and to give the usual praise and encouragement. What I saw was magic. It was impressionism and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was afraid to believe them and said nothing to anyone. It would not do to raise false hopes, but I had difficulty in suppressing my excitement. To look at his next drawing was agony, wondering if the first had been a fluke, but no! There was another picture. When I had several examples of Richard’s work, I took them for professional advice, without mentioning handicaps. To my great joy my hopes were confirmed - here was a talent beyond that of a normal child of his age.
I was so happy for Richard and for his parents. Now they had some hope, something to look forward to, although of course the hard times were not over.