Walter’s attempt to warn the distracted staff about Jorge’s departure by declaring, “Thomas has left the station” (3), immediately establishes the narrative’s central tension between his complex inner world and the way others perceive him. The novel’s structure, which shifts perspective from Walter’s articulate first-person narration to a close third-person view of Tom and then to Ann’s first-person narration, reinforces this tension by revealing the gap between the clients’ inner lives and others’ assumptions about their intelligence. Walter describes his own mind as being “like sitting in front of a bank of monitors that are all showing different events, and all are playing at top volume” (7), a metaphor for his sensory experience that stands in stark contrast to his limited outward expression. For him, echolalia and scripting, expressed through a script from an “often-viewed video” (4), represent an ongoing attempt to communicate thoughts that can’t be expressed spontaneously, although the phrase fails to bridge the gap between his urgent thought and the staff’s perception of him as nonsensical. Ann’s initial perspective reflects these misconceptions, as she perceived the clients as a frightening group of “alien creatures.” By moving between these different perspectives, Brown prompts readers to recognize the discrepancy between the clients’ internal experiences and the assumptions made about their intelligence, thereby reinforcing the theme of Speech as a False Measure of Intelligence.

The shabby, one-story building of Upward Bound reflects the institutional neglect experienced by its clients. Walter’s description of the center as a “run-down bore” with its “old-school linoleum” and “cheesy decorations” conveys an environment of stagnation (24, 14). The daily schedule, filled with “one infantilizing activity after another” like making Chex Mix or playing Cootie (14), emphasizes the theme of Unfulfilled Potential Due to Systemic Neglect. Brown further develops this theme through Walter’s own circumstances. Despite earning an Associate of Arts degree, Walter spends his days completing activities such as macaroni crafts, highlighting the systemic “cliff” that many adults with disabilities encounter after their formal education ends. The program director, Dave, reinforces these institutional priorities. When he reprimanded Ann for allowing the clients to redecorate the rec room, he cited concerns over “insurance and liability” (71), prioritizing risk management over the clients’ evident joy and sense of purpose. His logic reveals that the institution focuses primarily on limiting risk while offering few opportunities for meaningful engagement, contributing to Walter’s description of Upward Bound as a “dead-end way station” (6).

The chapters explore various attempts at communication, showing how connection depends on another person’s willingness to recognize and interpret attempts to communicate. Walter’s primary mode of expression, the letter board, is presented as a symbol of communication and self-expression, although its effectiveness depends on a trained and empathetic partner. He notes that a “good soul + good training = good aide” (7), stressing that the letter board can’t function effectively without someone who understands how to support its use. At Upward Bound, without his mother, he’s “as mute as Jorge” (13). In a parallel effort, Tom develops his own communication system by blinking, demonstrating his determination to express himself independently despite significant barriers. Yet his attempts are repeatedly missed by caregivers and even by the well-meaning Ann, who’s too absorbed in her own one-way interactions to notice his replies. It’s the quiet and observant Carlos who finally recognizes Tom’s efforts, asking, “Hey, Tom, is something up with your eyes?” (44). This moment reinforces the theme of Empathy Beyond Spoken Communication by suggesting that meaningful communication depends on both a person’s efforts to express themselves and another person’s willingness to observe, interpret, and respond with patience.

The narrative contrasts Tom’s daily experiences at Upward Bound with his time in the pool, illustrating how different settings shape his opportunities for participation. While Tom relies on his wheelchair for mobility throughout the day, Ann’s decision to push him quickly through Target’s empty aisles creates a rare moment of excitement and spontaneity that breaks the routine of the program. The Upward Bound pool, a recurring motif, offers another kind of liberation, allowing Tom greater physical ease. In the water, Tom’s body is weightless, his “tight limbs relaxed and stretched out” (64). The pool also becomes a space where Ann encourages the clients to participate more actively in games and shared activities. The pool highlights brief moments when institutional routines are interrupted by experiences that recognize the clients’ individuality and capacity for active participation, reinforcing the theme of Unfulfilled Potential Due to Systemic Neglect.

Through the contrasting figures of Dave and Carlos, the narrative presents different approaches to caregiving, which are further shaped by the social context introduced in Mariana’s chapter. Dave represents an impersonal, top-down approach to managing the center. His response to Walter and Jorge’s elopement was to file an incident report, focusing on procedure despite Carlos’s explanation that Walter had been trying to help. He views clients primarily through the lens of institutional responsibility and risk. Carlos, by comparison, has adopted a style of caregiving grounded in quiet observation and respect. He correctly interprets Walter’s actions, defends him to Dave, and later sits with Tom in his sadness. His competence stems from his ability to “comprehend what Jorge needs without language” (21). Mariana’s concerns about recommending her brother for a position at Upward Bound add another dimension to the novel’s exploration of caregiving. Her fear that her troubled brother would be like a “wolf in the chicken coop” reflects her uncertainty about whether someone with his past can be trusted in a role that requires patience and responsibility (47). Her decision to recommend him anyway reflects both her hope that he can change and the difficult choices created by their circumstances, further developing the novel’s exploration of caregiving within institutional settings.