Rochelle, Herbert’s sister is telling her experience of how she was affected growing up with her brother being disabled.
From time to time, usually around a full moon, Herbert used to have tantrums, and was restless all night. Sometimes they were mild and sometimes they were more serious. There was usually little warning and once he got going, you could tell by looking in his eyes that he was far away and nothing you could do could bring him back. You just had to ride out the wave with him. In addition, you had to understand why he had them. Where normal people can express themselves and be understood to a degree, he was continually misunderstood.
I always felt Herbert was an exceptionally intelligent person who could not express that, being totally hindered by his body. Moreover, I think he knew this. I believe he felt patronized by people a lot. That, in addition to his thinking English and German were one language because we spoke both at home, did not help people to understand a great deal! However, anyone who knew Herbert was well aware that he was not as disabled as his body made him seem.
In addition, there were no real avenues of sexual expression for him. He would put his fist through a window, for example, and then totally flip out over seeing his own blood. Mum and dad would have to hold him down with all their strength to prevent him from taking it further.
One time, when I was twelve years old, mum was getting ready to go for her usual Friday shopping trip. I could sense something brewing with Herbert. Literally, as her car drove away, he started throwing things. Mum was going to be gone for a good three hours, I ran outside to call her back, but it was too late.
Herbert was smashing things and seeing his blood, he flipped out even more… I was chasing him around the billiard table trying to get hold of him. I finally did and since he was over six foot and very strong, the only thing I could imagine doing was going for his ankles to pull him down. I yanked and yanked, he screamed and screamed. He was gripping the tablecloth and wiped everything on it off onto the floor with us, and smashed more things as I finally got him to the ground.
Once there all I could do was try to hold him down as he kept nearly getting up again. I did not know how much more strength I had in me as I imagined mum would not be back for hours. There was no way I could call anyone as he was too out of control to leave for a second. Therefore, I just kept yanking at his ankles until I could sit on top of him and hold him down. This went on for a good half hour. Then I started yelling over his yelling that I understood why he was so mad. I understood that he was frustrated: that no one understood him and treated him like an idiot.
And bit-by-bit he started not to resist me. I talked and talked, for about an hour, about all the things I thought were going on in his head as he calmed down and then went into this loud sobbing for about half an hour. I held him as he cried and cried with him. Then he was very still so I just held him some more. I rocked my big lanky brother for quite awhile and then he started feeling happy.
By the time Mum was home there was no evidence of what had happened! Herbert helped me clean the mess and we were playing yodelling music, him rocking as only he could, and me jumping about - I think it's called dancing! We were ready for the fresh doughnuts and working out our swindle on how to get the chocolates before dinner
It was years before Hebert had another tantrum.
As a mother I would also like to comment on her story. After Rochelle told me what happened, I was very shocked that she had to go through this all by herself. But, it is not good worrying about everything. The only solution brought by this incident was that no matter who looked after Herbert when I had to go out, I would ring them every hour or so, to see if all was well.
Puberty, our way (by Traude)
Like everyone, Herbert went through puberty although in his case some unusual habits began. Bearing in mind that he was mentally about eight-years old, the body’s sexual development must have been somewhat at odds with his ability to understand the changes. Realizing there may be some things I should be aware of in his case, I went to see a specialist. The advice was to put Herbert on medication, which was against our previous judgment, so we found our own ways of dealing with puberty changes.
One habit of Herbert’s was to rub his hands between his legs; this progressed to using a shoe. This understandably was bizarre, so we diplomatically and patiently spoke to Herbert. Explaining to him that hormonal development was normal, it made you feel different and the body changed. To feel excited at some things was also normal, but when finished he was to go and wash himself in the bathroom. To tell him it was wrong or in some way unnatural, because he was mentally disabled, would have been both incorrect and very frustrating for him. The child mind had to accommodate a growing adult body, so when discussing matters of sexuality it became necessary to be simple, honest and understanding.
Having been open and clear about what was happening and allowing his natural development to be expressed, we found no problems occurred. Herbert was made to feel comfortable with his body and the changing hormonal tendencies; this paved the way for a more balanced transition into adulthood. Medication was never used; good healthy diet and a happy, interesting environment seemed to work. Herbert did not even get pimples!
The rubbing habit did continue for some years, by the time he was about twenty-six-years old he only occasionally did it.
There were some funny moments with Herbert and his shoes. We would find shoes went missing all the time when he found some to be favourites. Other habits included taking shiny material and cutting the legs off pants! The pant legs of tracksuits were a favourite, and they were not always old pairs either! I had to sew elastic around both ends, and then he would wear them as leg warmers. Rochelle wore leg warmers when doing a dance video with Toni Barrtucio, so I figured he wanted to do the same.
When Herbert became aware of the female body being different to his, it presented some interesting challenges. His curiosities lead him to look at breasts, his female teachers’, and mine, for instance, on hearing that he would go, to touch their breasts to follow his curiosity; I felt a need to explain some things to him. I thought, by letting him touch mine and telling him that yes it is different to his own chest, that a male and female body have this as a difference, he would come to an understanding.
Letting him touch my breast, at first he was scared, gently and then squeezing I had to say, ‘Don’t squeeze it hurts, do it to yours and see how it feels’. Replying ‘Oh no, don’t touch,’ he looked down at his chest and seemed to get the point. After this time he seemed happy with the explanation and was never ever really concerned with it.
Other parts of the female
body did not interest Herbert, the genitals were explained to him for his
own body, and that females did not have the same. A book would have been used
to explain anything further! Keeping in mind that he was mentally still a
child we only wanted to explain as much as he would be willing to understand.