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| Sample of NADSP Code of Ethics Shirt designed by our good friend Mary Lawson of Nebraska...see www.dspwear.com |
T’was the night before National DSP Recognition
Week 2013,
when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The MARs were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that State Surveyors soon would be there;
The people supported were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of ethical DSPs danced in their heads;
And the House Manager in her 'kerchief, and I in my jeans,
Had just settled down to fix the Cuisinart food chopping machine.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The Executive Director had pulled the Fire Alarm,
And I knew I was not going to be able to eat my Eggplant Parm,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a bunch of other DSPs from behind the rear,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be DSP Nick.
More rapid than tweets his peers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, DSP, Dasher! now, DSP Dancer! now, DSP Prancer and DSP Vixen!
On, DSP Comet! on DSP Cupid! on, DSP Donder and DSP Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now take care and support the people in the Fire Alarm Drill"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When DSPs meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the Direct Support Professionals they flew,
With the knowledge of ethics and DSP competencies too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard in the garage.
The sound of DSPs documenting this barrage.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney DSP Nick came with a bound.
He was dressed according to the agency policy from his head to toe,
And something he thought that all DSPs should know;
A DSP Work sample was under his arm,
And he looked like a farmer tending his farm.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! He knew he was to be credentialed!
He knew he was loaded with DSP potential!
His happy little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The Code of Ethics he uttered his breath underneath,
And the Advocacy he had with the people he supported encircled his head like a wreath;
He had an ability for justice fairness and equity and self-determination,
That shook, when he He knew that soon throughout this great nation.
He would hear people thanking DSPs of all races,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The MARs were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that State Surveyors soon would be there;
The people supported were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of ethical DSPs danced in their heads;
And the House Manager in her 'kerchief, and I in my jeans,
Had just settled down to fix the Cuisinart food chopping machine.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The Executive Director had pulled the Fire Alarm,
And I knew I was not going to be able to eat my Eggplant Parm,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a bunch of other DSPs from behind the rear,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be DSP Nick.
More rapid than tweets his peers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, DSP, Dasher! now, DSP Dancer! now, DSP Prancer and DSP Vixen!
On, DSP Comet! on DSP Cupid! on, DSP Donder and DSP Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now take care and support the people in the Fire Alarm Drill"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When DSPs meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the Direct Support Professionals they flew,
With the knowledge of ethics and DSP competencies too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard in the garage.
The sound of DSPs documenting this barrage.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney DSP Nick came with a bound.
He was dressed according to the agency policy from his head to toe,
And something he thought that all DSPs should know;
A DSP Work sample was under his arm,
And he looked like a farmer tending his farm.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! He knew he was to be credentialed!
He knew he was loaded with DSP potential!
His happy little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The Code of Ethics he uttered his breath underneath,
And the Advocacy he had with the people he supported encircled his head like a wreath;
He had an ability for justice fairness and equity and self-determination,
That shook, when he He knew that soon throughout this great nation.
He would hear people thanking DSPs of all races,
And celebrate the good work of the dutiful graces;
DSPs were to be honored and given their due,
And people from all over would see their value too.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And reviewed his portfolio; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, to DSPs in that house he spoke;
He sprang to his agency van, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew out of town with a bistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy National Direct Support Professional Recognition Week 2013, and to all a good-night."
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