About the Interview
Every school day, I park my minivan at the corner of Greenview and Estes and wait for my son’s school day to begin. Almost every morning it starts this way: At precisely 8:45, the big white door of P.A.C.T.T. Learning Center swings open and principal Tim Edwards marches out, smiling, as he leads the school staff down the stairs and out to their students who are waiting in the other parked minivans, taxis and school buses. All of the twenty-eight students, who range in age from eleven to twenty-one, have autism, a neurological disorder that impairs their ability to communicate and to interact with others. Autism also causes varying degrees of odd repetitive movements, difficulty with changes in routine and over- or under-sensitivity to sensory stimuli. Some students have come from as far as two hours away. Many have traveled from P.A.C.T.T.’s Oak Park or Elmwood Park group homes. My son Stuart’s commute is the shortest at less than a mile. I like to think of P.A.C.T.T. as his neighborhood school.

When I spoke to principal Tim Edwards recently, I asked him to tell me how the school started, how it grew and how his role has evolved:

The Interview
Tim Edwards: P.A.C.T.T. Learning Center started at the closing of Loyola University’s Therapeutic Day School, which was on their Lake Shore Campus in Rogers Park. I started there as a teacher in 1989, right out of college. Three years later, Loyola decided to close their mental health facilities, including our school. During that time we were serving a mixed population, like a traditional therapeutic day school that tends to serve children with EBD (emotional-behavioral disorder), severe learning disabilities and autism.

We thought, when Loyola’s school closed, we would place our students in other therapeutic day schools and go on our way. Then we started finding appropriate placements for our kids with severe learning disabilities, but there weren’t places that had the capacity to take our kids with autism and do them justice. Some parents approached us and asked if we would consider going on independently—that’s why we started P.A.C.T.T. The first year, Loyola rented their facility to us at a minimal fee so we could get up and running with the six students and three teachers that stayed.

We really wanted the school to stay in Rogers Park because that’s where we’d been. During that school year we secured our home here on Greenview. The building had been many things. It had been a JCC at one point, but when we bought it, it was a preschool. Three or four of us would teach all day and then go and fix up the building in the evening. That was the dedication of the people that were left behind. It was fun and it was an adventure. So, we were in our new building for the ‘94/’95 school year.

I taught in the classroom for ten years before I became principal (in 2001.) As we grew, it became more important for (then principal) Laurie Bushman to be a true executive director. I’d finished my masters degree and her job was taking her away from campus more often, so I took on responsibility for overseeing some details and teaching. We didn’t have any office staff, yet. We just had Laurie and all the teachers and I literally had to carry the phone around with me in my classroom. It was challenging. If you’d asked me at twenty-four when I moved here, ‘By the time you’re forty, what do you think you’ll be doing?’ I would not have said ‘principal of a small therapeutic day school for kids with autism that now has two group homes and is trying to start adult services.’ Am I glad that I do that? Yes! Do I think I’ll leave? No! Do I wish I made more money? Yes! Do I wish my staff made more money? Yes! But the things that keep me here are the families and the stories and the growth that I see, and the neighborhood is a big part of that.

B.E. Pinkham:
PACTT is a private school but your funding doesn’t come from us parents. The services you provide are required by each child’s Individualized Education Plan (I.E.P.) just like all other special education students. Correct?

T.E. :
Yeah, we’re a weird entity called a non-public private school. When a school district is unable to provide an appropriate education for a student, they do what’s called an out-placement and then the school system pays to send a student to us. It’s almost like having your own business. When this started with just three of us—it was all about the kids and it’s always been all about the kids and the families. We were educators and here we were starting a group home—I had no idea!. Now we have a Board of Directors; we’ve picked up people who have that expertise and still have the compassion. It’s been a growing and learning experience all along the way.

B. E. P:
Your students go out into the community for a variety of learning opportunities. Where do the students and staff like to go?

Tim Edwards:
Some of the regular places are El Famous Burrito, the dollar store and Mr. G.’s on Morse. They go to Leona’s and the post office. I give the kids things to mail for me. Bob and Kristen’s classes go to Heartland Café often—sometimes once a week. They go to the McDonald’s on Pratt, but the independent places know us a little better. The people at the public library know us— especially the elementary classroom kids. The bigger kids go to the new Dominick’s. And the kids have always gone to the beach at Loyola Park in the summer. You name it, they’ve been there. We’re known in all the stores

One of the best things about this neighborhood, from the very beginning, has been that our neighbors were interested. At El Famous Burrito, one day Kate’s classroom was waiting for their order. A gentleman came up and said to her, “I live in the neighborhood. I always see you guys. I don’t have a lot of means but I‘ve always wanted to do something.” So he paid for their food. He talked to all the kids, not just the teachers. Then he said, “I just want you to know how much I appreciate what you do and I think your kids are great. Here’s twenty dollars so you can keep doing it.” Kate came back to school almost crying. Those things have happened on more than one occasion but that was recent. Just a year or two ago the church down Greenview from us sent a gift and a note saying, “We can’t do a lot but we always see your staff and how compassionate they are. We just wanted to say thanks for being part of the community.” So we don’t know who we’re affecting just by being around.

Sometimes when new parents come through the building, they say, “This place is so homey. I can feel the love and the compassion.” Part of that is due to the neighborhood. It goes beyond the building. It’s very eclectic and that’s been to our advantage. As a resident and person who works in this neighborhood that’s what I love about it. I feel I can be as quirky as I am and it’s okay. In a perfect world everyone would understand and want to help people with disabilities. Is that true everywhere? I don’t think so. Is that perfectly true in Rogers Park? Probably not. I may be biased, but I really think people are more accepting here.

B.E.P.:
What would you want people to know about autism, in terms of the kids’ behavior on the street? I mean my son Stuart tends to jump and run around a lot and make strange noises.

T.E.:
I think it echoes our philosophical stance. Try to remember that people are people first. It doesn’t matter what your label or your disability is, you still need to be accepted for who you are and what your strengths are and what your weaknesses are. Just as anyone can have good days and bad days, so can a person with disabilities. Remember that you’re not looking for “Oh this person has autism so they have these characteristics.” You’re looking at Stuart; he like trains and animals and…

B.E.P:
…and chasing pigeons…

T.E.:
…Yeah, and he happens to have autism which can make his interactions with the things he likes and the people he cares about somewhat different from yours or mine. But who’s to say that your actions and reactions as a typical person are the same as mine?

B.E.P.:
Recently I was down the block from my house for a neighborhood clean-up. I could hear Stuart whooping it up out in our backyard so I told my neighbors, “Oh that’s his happy scream!” I felt like they needed some explanation.

T.E.:
Yeah, people might hear noises that might be different. Sometimes we might be louder than people would like. They might even see a kid being aggressive on occasion but remember: that moment doesn’t define who that person is. It’s okay to have concerns if you don’t understand, but try to look at the interactions with the staff and I think you’ll see the positive caring that is there. If anyone has questions, they can call me. I want to help people understand more. I’m still learning and I’ve been at this for fifteen years. My perspective is a lot different from a parent and I don’t have the same perspective that a community person has. Things that I don’t think are an issue may be to other people. Look for the positive things they have to offer and help them overcome their challenges, just as, hopefully, you would do for anyone and would want for yourself. When I’m struggling with things in my life, I try to look at it from the standpoint that I have these issues but I’m able to talk about them, and I can try to work through them in a way that’s acceptable to society. The individuals I work with don’t always have those means. As hard as it is for us as individuals—multiply that by who-knows-how-much and try to be accepting. I would encourage people to get to know someone with autism because it’s a worthwhile experience. They’re different in the sense that they don’t relate the same way that you and I do. And yeah, it’s nice to have some book knowledge, but you don’t know what autism is until you know somebody—you just don’t and every one of them is different.