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NJCDD New Jersey Council on Developmental Disabilities

arrows  FAMILY SUPPORT

     

FAMILIES
Vol. 15, No.1
Spring 2006

Melissa Wheeler: Learning to Navigate Adult Life
by Maryann B. Hunsberger

Joan and Bill Wheeler wanted to make a difference in the world, so they adopted five children with disabilities. That’s in addition to their three biological children. They adopted four of the children in New Jersey and brought one home from Russia to live in the wooded town of Shamong in Burlington County. The Wheelers’ children are now ages 37, 36, 32, 23, 21, 19, 19 and 14.

Melissa, 21, will age out of the school system this summer. Melissa has spina bifida with hydrocephalus and uses a wheelchair. Daniel, 19, also has spina bifida and uses a wheelchair. Both are students at Seneca High School in the Lenape Regional High School District.

Melissa has been active in wheelchair sports since age 7. She and Dan are both in the marching band. “Marching Band has been wonderful with both Melissa and Dan. They love Marching Band. Melissa is also on the school swim team and has an aide for this. She officially leaves the district June 30,” said Joan Wheeler.

Transition to Adult Life

Melissa is working with Laura Fisher, a transition specialist with Cerebral Palsy of New Jersey (CPNJ), to help her prepare for life after school. Fisher and other staff from CPNJ help Melissa learn the tricks of doing laundry, cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping and managing time and money. Fisher arranges for Melissa to sample a variety of jobs and is currently trying to help her find a paying job.

Melissa does volunteer work as one way of job sampling. She sampled office jobs at two nonprofit organizations and at Camp Ockanickin in Medford. At the camp, she also worked in the swim center during the summer. In 2004, flooding caused several dams to burst and the camp’s lake emptied. With no lake, Melissa no longer had a summer job.

“She loved the job at the camp and did very well there,” said Fisher. “It was unbelievable that the lake completely drained and she lost the job.”

Melissa had hoped one of her nonprofit volunteer jobs would develop into a paying job, but neither had funding sources available. Fisher is trying to arrange to have Melissa do some career exploration at her school district. Her mother said that living in a rural area, finding transportation—especially accessible transportation—is difficult.

Fisher agrees. “Melissa has had challenges in the past, like anyone with a disability. Things are not accessible. I’ve had a hard time finding jobs for her because of that.

“Since Access Link does not come directly to her house and she cannot get to an Access Link base point, she must use public transportation. The public transportation doesn’t always come on time. One day, the bus was an hour-and-a-half late. It is frustrating for her. It limits her opportunities, as she only has a certain amount of time to do things.

“Melissa has a full-access service dog who goes everywhere with her. She takes very good care of the dog and keeps the dog clean at all times. The dog sometimes has trouble getting on and off public transportation, so I talk with the trainer and work with the dog. I give Melissa a lot of credit. She has a lot of stamina to deal with all these stresses and challenges.”

Although this is Melissa’s last year of school, she has completed all her credits. Therefore, she spends most of her day hours with CPNJ staff. Fisher has worked with Melissa for three years, but they now spend six hours a day, five days a week together.

On Saturdays, Melissa will do service dog presentations for Resources for Independent Living, explaining the use of service dogs to Girl Scouts as part of disability awareness. CPNJ set this opportunity up for Melissa.

"Working with Melissa and her family is good. It’s a lot of fun. Melissa is a great person who knows what she likes and doesn’t like. She has learned to do a lot more than she could in the beginning. She can do most of her activities of daily living skills independently. She is a good student. She enjoys working and learning.”

How Assistive Technology Helps

Melissa had an assistive technology evaluation with CPNJ during her sophomore year and they recommended computerized reading, because it’s hard for her to visually track and focus. They recommended the WYNN program, where someone scans written work into the computer and the computer reads the work aloud. “The school was resistant, but they did provide a laptop and the WYNN program,” said Fred Tchang, the Director of Assistive Technology Services at CPNJ.

CPNJ has worked with Melissa on other assistive technology. “Melissa was playing autoharp in the high school band, so we made her a custom lap tray to hold her autoharp in her power wheelchair.”

Since Melissa and Daniel both use wheelchairs, CPNJ has been working with the family on making accessibility improvements in the home. “This family has a lot of experience and they asked us to look at home accessibility,” said Tchang. “The kitchen and the front door were not accessible. We helped them plan the accessibility and submitted the request for funding to DDD. When a family asks for accessibility funding, we make sure the family knows all their options about how to make their home accessible.”

Since this is Melissa’s transition year, it’s time to pull in community supports. One of those supports is community college. “She takes a course at Burlington County College (BCC) even though she is still a student of the school district. They have a CALL (Career Adaptive Learning and Literacy Lab) computer lab that supports her use of assistive technology. They scan in text for her and WYNN reads the text to her,” said Tchang.

Joan Wheeler is thrilled with BCC and their CALL lab. “BCC has been wonderful. She uses her WYNN and the CALL lab provides all her accommodations, scanning in her workbooks and emailing them to Melissa. They are putting the books on CD for Melissa. It’s marvelous. It’s like being on another planet from high school.

“The high school never used her WYNN program with her, so Melissa is learning how to use it at the same time as taking a college class. She is doing well and getting good grades. We drive Melissa to her college classes because the district does not provide transportation to the college.”

After graduation, Melissa will talk with the state Division of Vocational Rehabilitation (DVR) about receiving adult services. “We are in the process of transitioning her to DVR services now,” said Tchang. “As an adult, she will need some additional assistance. The reading and writing level is different from high school. The high school had not been using the software with her, so she needed a refresher course in how to use it. We also want to look at how technology can support her memory and organizational skills. She will need to take on more responsibility for her own schedule, so her mother has been asking about electronic reminders and organizers.”

Life Hasn’t Always Been Easy

Melissa has had more than 30 surgeries. She has always attended public school with an aide. Until fourth grade, she attended self-contained classes but her mother said they didn’t expect much of her. In fourth grade, Melissa switched to inclusive classes with resource room support. “She did better in the regular class because they expected more.”

Joan Wheeler was a special education teacher who stopped working for twenty years while she raised her children. “I was hell-bent on changing the world and making things accessible. I was naïve, because I thought people would just love my kids and would make the proper accommodations. Since I had been a teacher, I knew we’d have to work hard. But, people couldn’t get past Melissa and Dan’s wheelchairs. They never saw them as just another kid, and that really bothered me. I have always had to struggle to get accommodations for my children.”

“When Melissa got to high school, it was a nightmare. In the fall of freshman year, she got a service dog, a golden retriever named Bob. Right from the start bringing the dog to school was a problem. The school never considered that the dog would have to ride the bus, and they told the bus garage to not allow the dog on the bus. I called the Department of Education, and they contacted the superintendent and told him the dog had to ride the bus.”

In Melissa’s sophomore year, Dan also got a service dog. According to Wheeler, school employees called PETA saying that the children did not take care of the dogs. PETA sent letters to the family. Wheeler said that both children stayed out of school for two-and-a-half years being home schooled as a result. “They never went back to Shawnee High School in Medford. They switched to Seneca High School in Tabernacle. It’s still sometimes hard to get the right accommodations, but the dogs have regularly gone to school with the children since then.”

The junior prom brought some challenges to Melissa. She arrived to discover that the prom was on the second floor of an older building with no elevator. “She had to go up a large step to get to an old stair lift. The tables at the prom were so close together, she couldn’t maneuver around and we had to move things. The bathroom had no accessible stall and she needed to change her catheter.”

Her mother filed a complaint investigation with the Department of Education, since her IEP (individualized education plan) says all extracurricular activities must be accessible. They prevailed and Wheeler said the district was required to promise not to do this again. And despite the hardships, Melissa had fun that evening.

Although the spokesperson for the Lenape Regional High School District made some comments about Joan Wheeler and the children’s dogs, they said after the fact that their comments were off the record.

The District’s official statement is that “The Lenape District does not discuss issues involving individual students and/or parents, and therefore will not comment on the specific complaints made by the parent that reporter Mary Ann (sic) Hunsberger interviewed for Families magazine. The Lenape Regional High School District is known for its outstanding programs and services for special needs students. The district complies with all federal and state laws and mandates and is confident that the needs of all students are being met.”

The Future

Joan Wheeler said Melissa in learning to become a better self-advocate, and hopes to become involved in her local Monday Morning group and DDD’s Real Life Choices in the future.

Her family plans to ask DVR or DDD for funding for an electronic organizer. “With the hydrocephalus, it’s like a traumatic brain injury. She forgets things a lot, so this will help her to remember and to succeed. She wants to be independent and be an adult, and she tries hard to remember things like feeding her dog, keeping track of her homework and knowing when her appointments are. This will help her even more.”

Tchang said that assistive technology and advocacy skills have played an important role in Melissa’s education. “For a young adult going through transition, assistive technology has a place in school and beyond. It takes advocacy skills and an established network of support to make assistive technology work. Not everyone has access to assistive technology, so this is something we need to work on.”

Twenty Years of Assistive Technology
by Maryann B. Hunsberger

In June 1986, Cerebral Palsy of New Jersey’s Rehabilitation Technology Services department opened to assist individuals with disabilities. Since people with developmental disabilities had a great need for support, they started by working with people being served by the Division of Developmental Disabilities (DDD).

The name of the department eventually changed to Assistive Technology Services (ATS) department, but the goal was the same—to ensure that people of all ages and disabilities in all settings-home, school, work—could know about and benefit from assistive technology.

The ATS department wasn’t interested in a medical way of assisting people with disabilities, but a community way of providing assistance. “It was pretty early on for a community support outlook,” said Fred Tchang, the Director of Assistive Technology Services at Cerebral Palsy of New Jersey (CPNJ). “We had one of the first mobile ATS units in the country. We had a van and a rehabilitation technologist who went out, let people know what assistive technology (AT) was and then served people. In the first year, we served over 200 people with one van, one person and a bunch of tools.”

The ATS department expanded to work with the Division of Vocational Rehabilitation Services (DVRS) in 1990, since technology can be used to help people work. “We worked with counselors around the state, helping them to understand how job accommodations can help people become eligible for jobs they thought they could never do.”

When the ADA passed in 1990, ATS received a federal grant to help people understand the law. The program, which began in 1991 and ran for ten years, has since moved to Cornell University.

That same year, they started the Technology Lending Center. “We realized that you can talk to people about technology, but they really need to experience it for themselves. People needed to ‘try it before they buy it.’ Sixteen years later, that saying is as true as it was then. The lending center started small with little money. We lent fairly simple things for activities of daily living, such as grabbers and button closers,” said Tchang.

The center has moved on to bigger things, such as augmentative and alternative communication (AAC) devices. AACs are now their biggest lending category because Medicaid requires that people have a trial period on an AAC device before purchasing one, but Medicaid doesn’t fund that lending period.

Without the Technology Lending Center, people would have to pay dearly to rent AAC units. The Assistive Technology Services department is the only statewide program lending AACs. Because of limited funding, they only lend the units to people for whom they do evaluations.

The lending center is open to anyone for assistive technology other than AACs. They lend keyboards, computer mouses, trackballs, electronic organizers, lap-top word processing devices such as the Alpha Smart, and laptop word processors with organizers, such as the Dana. “We get some funding from DDD to do evaluations, but we are looking for funding to lend these very expensive devices to anyone who needs a trial,” Tchang said.”

In 2001, the ATS department added speech therapists who are AAC specialists. “There is a great need for speech therapists who specialize in that area, especially for children with autism.”

The ATS department does a lot of work with students. Before 1995, most of that work was with children in segregated schools. In 1995, increasing numbers of students began moving from segregated settings to neighborhood schools. The ATS department moved with them. “We began supporting students in public schools to assure that students had the right tools, training and support rather than just being dumped in class.”

The ATS department also spends time accommodating employees, whether their own or others. They rearranged office furniture to accommodate a secretary with a mobility impairment. They have assisted people with back pain by introducing them to ergonomic chairs. They have recommended ergonomic keyboards and trackballs. They frequently change the position of chairs or lower keyboards by removing desk drawers and adding trays. They have recommended software to help employees with learning disabilities. 

The ATS department helps employers learn to accommodate employees. “I did a job accommodation for an employee with a disability at Quest Diagnostics. Afterward, they wanted us to do a presentation on job accommodations and employing people with disabilities. I hope this will help them find more job applicants with disabilities and not be afraid of providing accommodations.”

No two jobs are exactly alike at the Assistive Technology Services department. “A mom with mild mental retardation had trouble reading her mail and the notes that come home from school. We found simple things to help, such as a scanner to scan her mail, and voice software that would read the scanned mail to her. We lent her the software to see how she likes it and her son is helping her use the computer.

“Another mom with use of only one hand needed a way to safely pick up and change a baby. We made a special harness that makes it easier to pick up the baby. The crib had to be at a certain height to get the baby out and the double action safety devices required two hands, so we modified the crib. It still had safety features, but was now accessible to the mother.

“These are just a few examples of how AT can help. We want to reach our goal of providing AT to anyone, anywhere.”

SIDEBAR:

New Horizons for Assistive Technology

by Maryann B. Hunsberger

Cerebral Palsy of New Jersey’s Assistive Technology Services (ATS) department has plans for the future. They are attempting to convince schools to use assistive technology (AT) with all students, so the child with a disability won’t be the only one using it.

“It’s called Universal Design for Learning and it helps minimize children with disabilities standing out from the rest of the class. Also it can directly benefit students without disabilities. Accommodations for reading and writing can help many students, so you can make these tools available to the whole class. All students can use Alpha Smarts, computers and software that support reading and writing,” said Fred Tchang, the Director of Assistive Technology Services at Cerebral Palsy of New Jersey.

Tchang and the staff at ATS have been talking with the New Jersey Department of Education (DOE) about Universal Design for Learning, since the DOE wants to implement more AT in the classroom. Until now, the DOE has had no AT guidelines for districts beyond what IDEA says to do. Now, that is changing. The ATS department has contracted with the Department of Human Services’ Office of Education to help develop supports. A committee has been formed to set AT guidelines for local school districts.

“This is a positive step,” Tchang said. “When these guidelines are finalized, they will be sent to every school district. It could take a year. Schools understand the need for evaluations, because parents push for evaluations. The next part—making them follow through and provide things—is harder. Teachers and administrators need training and support to be comfortable using these tools in the classroom. It’s an ongoing struggle.”

Having strong self-advocacy skills is a large factor in whether transitioning students use assistive technology as adults, so the ATS department is focusing on this. “You’d think it would be need or physical disability that would determine this, but it’s self-advocacy skills. That’s why we are pushing for self-advocacy education. We try to do this when we provide evaluations. We meet with everyone who might be involved in using the technology, including parents, teachers, case managers and students, to press for self-advocacy training.”

Tchang said that since funding splits everything up in New Jersey according to disability and type of need (blind, developmental disability, educational, etc.), they are working to coordinate efforts with DDD, the Department of Labor and the Department of Human Services to tie it all together. “This is in a very preliminary stage.”

The Assistive Technology Services department is also working with the Kessler Foundation and the Division of Disability Services on a ramp-building project. They are starting with Middlesex and Union Counties. Volunteer labor from the Job Corps will build the ramps. “Home accessibility is a basic need, yet there is no standard funding. People seek funding here and there. Depending on your age or disability or the goals that you have, you may or may not get funding.”

Tchang said that the state Division of Developmental Disabilities (DDD) is trying to figure out how exactly AT fits into Real Life Choices—a major reform initiative to provide funding directly to individuals living with their families so they can purchase the specific supports they need. ATS could be a key player in this effort. “We want to help DDD learn which technologies are available and how individualized AT supports can be. Some people might need advice over the phone. Some people might need us to problem solve or they might need help finding community-based vendors.

“The Technology Lending Center can help people get the most out of the money DDD provides. Before spending thousands of dollars for equipment, people could try it out. The nice thing about Real Life Choices is that the need doesn’t have to be medical or vocational. It could just be about independence and community participation. So, we could recommend and lend something as simple as a bowling ramp.

“Whatever the need is, whatever the disability is, wherever your need is—home, school or work—we want to be sure that people know about and can benefit from assistive technology,” said Tchang.

Planning Jessica’s Future

by Maryann B. Hunsberger

Jessica Mauel’s graduation from Burlington County Special Services School District in June 2004 was a joyous but unsettled time for her and her mother Karen.

Jessica was on the school team, went to school dances, took food service classes and, for her last two years of school, worked in the Burlington County Human Services cafeteria. She’d found her niche in food and wanted to continue working in food service after graduation.

“She was so thrilled when she graduated,” said Karen. “But I was so scared. I knew she would lose the support she had for so long. I didn’t know what to do for her. I thought I had everything lined up and would get her into food services at McGuire Air Force Base through the Burlington County Occupational Training Center. However, there were no openings and I had no transportation even if there had been openings, since Access Link does not come where I live.”

A few months after graduation, the state Division of Developmental Disabilities (DDD) told Mauel about the transition options now known as Pathways to Adult Life. “It gave us the opportunity to plan her future almost like anybody else. We found she had more options than staying at home or going someplace inappropriate.”

Jessica, then 23, and Karen were supported by Karen’s best friends at an initial meeting with Mary Kneuer, support coordinator, and DDD representatives Kathy Bellan and Jeanette Marquez.

 “We talked about writing Jessica’s ELP [Essential Lifestyle Plan] based on what she liked and wanted to do, rather than just at what seemed to be available at first look,” said Karen. “It really helped us figure out what Jessica likes and doesn’t like to do” with respect to employment and adult life activities.

Since Jessica didn’t want to stay home or attend a day program, she and her mother chose to do the Real Life Choices option. Real Life Choices is a new state initiative geared to offer more individualized supports for people and families.

The team decided against one option often offered to new graduates—job sampling, where individuals experience brief exposures to a number of types of jobs. Since Jessica had training and experience in food service “she already knew she wanted to work in food services.”

“There are two ways to do Real Life Choices,” said Karen. “You can use an agency to provide support services or hire someone yourself. I attempted to use self-hire, but quickly felt like I’d need to reinvent the wheel, so I decided to use an agency. The staff was already experienced in exactly what Jessica needed. We chose Avenues to Independent Living. Joan Clark from Avenues is wonderful. They offer job coaching and personal support.”

Clark took Jessica to a McDonald’s and to a Wawa to observe how employees do their work. Her first choice was to work at the McDonald’s closest to her home, so Clark talked to the manager, helped Jessica set up and conduct the job interview, and helped her fill out an application. While still providing support, this gave Jessica the new experience of doing things like this without her mom.

Jessica landed the job based on her training, experience and positive attitude at the interview. She works three to four hours a day, two days a week. A job coach attends work with her.

“Jessica says she is ‘careering’ instead of working,” said Karen. “She plans to stay there until she is old enough to retire, which she says will be at about age forty. A big benefit is that she works only a few hours a week, which fits her needs. She requires a lot of rest and it takes a good deal of her energy to work. Real Life Choices lets us tailor her day. She needs a lot of structure and routine and this helps provide it.”

Jessica, who has a neurological disability, is enthusiastic.

“I love working with Real Life Choices. I love my job. I enjoy working at McDonald’s, where I do the salads. I’ve learned to make a lot of different kinds of salads. I make Caesar salads, bacon ranch salads, California Cobb salads, blank salads and side salads. Blank salads have lettuce and tomatoes in them, nothing else. I microwave pancakes, biscuits and burgers. I clean the tables by using a washrag and dipping it in soap. I throw away trash that people leave on the tables. I sweep the floor, too. I do a lot there. My favorite thing is making the salads. It’s easy to do. My job coach made me a salad chart to help me remember what goes in each salad. That helped a lot. That was the biggest thing she has had to work with me on.”

Including transportation and job coaching, Jessica gets 13 hours a week of support each week. One day a week, she goes out with a support person and chooses what she wants to do. “I do activities,” said Jessica. “Sometimes we go to lunch and dinner. I like anything except Chinese. I love Italian, hamburgers and fries, and I like to get Auntie Anne’s soft pretzels at the mall. I get sour cream and onion pretzels. They are salty, but they taste really good.

“We have gone to the Natural Science Museum and the Franklin Institute Science Museum. In the summer, we go to the amusement parks. I am a ride person. I love rides that spin around and go upside down. I’m a real roller coaster fan. I am lucky that I don’t get sick on them.

“We go to the mall, the library or other places. We sometimes go to the movies. I like funny movies best. I like romantic movies, too. I don’t like spooky movies or sad ones. I don’t like violent movies, since they give me nightmares.

“At the library, I take out books. I have a computer in my room, so I look up books on the Internet, and then I order them from the library. They call me when I have a book to pick up. I like to read Babysitter’s Club books and books about wild animals. I read Animal Hospital books. I get books about kids going into the hospital.”

Jessica’s early years give a clue as to why she reads about children in hospitals. Born 13 weeks early at under two pounds, she spent most of her first year at St. Christopher’s Hospital in Philadelphia. “She was tube fed, on a ventilator and had a tracheotomy tube,” said Karen. “Even after leaving the hospital, she was on oxygen for three years. All her problems stemmed from her premature birth. She had 15 hospital admissions up to age nine and still has residual lung problems.”

Since then, Karen, separated from her husband when Jessica was nine, has taken care of her at home as a single mom.

Today, Jessica is thriving and enjoying her life. Jessica and her mother incorporated functional living skills into her ELP. When her support person takes her out, they work on money skills at stores. Sometimes, her support person teaches her to do life skills at home, such as cooking.

“She hopes to eventually move into a supervised apartment with a friend, so she needs these skills to be independent,” said Karen. “At that time, her budget can go toward any staff support that she needs, whether someone to do grocery shopping or to pay the bills. I’m not sure exactly how it will happen, but it will in some form.”

“One of the main things I like about Real Life Choices is that it lets you balance what is important for Jessica to what is important to her. Before, I looked more at what was important for her, and wondered what spot I could fit her into at an existing program, not at what she wanted to do. Real Life Choices taught me to do that. Sometime in the near future, Jessica will be working independently. After that, we will discontinue the job coach, and I will drive her to work. A support person will pick her up after work and do additional activities with her. The blessing of Real Life Choices is that you use the money where you need it.”

Jessica does better one-on-one than in a group and her mother is thrilled that Real Life Choices considers this. “This is why she gets to spend time alone with her job coach and her support person, rather than going out as part of a group and being coached as part of a group.”

Mauel described a discrepancy in how other parents explained Real Life Choices to her and how it actually is. “Other parents told me that this is a hard thing to do because you have to do it all yourself. They said this even though they didn’t know anything about it. They said that DDD would drop Jessica at some program in the morning and bring her home eight hours later. But, that wasn’t true. What they said was wrong. Her ELP is tailored to her. I didn’t have to do all the work myself. I had support through the whole process. I have a wonderful support coordinator who answers my questions and helps at any time. I am part of a team. It was so easy.”

Lorraine D’Sylva Lee, Director of Transition for DDD, invited the Mauels to a conference in Atlantic City. Karen was scheduled to speak, but her daughter didn’t give her that chance. “Jessica sat in the front of the room, raised her hand and told them everything about the program, so I never even had to talk! She told them about her days, about her job and about her activities.”

The Mauels were also included in a press conference in Trenton where they both got to tell then Human Services Commissioner James Davy how well the program works form them.

When Jessica learns to work independently, she will also get a volunteer job and bring her job coach along. She wants to visit nursing homes or work at a pediatric rehab as her volunteer job. “She is comfortable with medicine, since she spent so much time in hospitals,” Karen said.

“Without this program, my daughter wouldn’t be doing what she is doing. It would have been discouraging to her to sit home or go into in an inappropriate program. That wasn’t what she wanted to do with her life. It was important to Jessica to work in the food service field. She feels good about herself, is proud of her accomplishments and looks forward to going to work.”

SIDEBAR:

Supporting Families

by Maryann B. Hunsberger

Mary Kneuer works as a support coordinator with Real Life Choices through an agency, Neighbours Inc. in Princeton. 

Kneuer doesn’t consider the people she works with as clients. She says she thinks of them as her family. “Sometimes, families just need us to listen, so we do a lot of listening. I’ve had many hours on the phone, and that’s fine. Families are very isolated. And they become family to me, too, not clients.”

The parent of two teenage boys with autism, Kneuer knows how necessary it is to understand who an individual is as a person. “That is our job, to capture who each individual is. We don’t want to know about the disability. We want to know about the person, the things they like and don’t like.”

To do this, they use a personal planning tool called an Essential Life Plan (ELP) built. “It’s a way to learn about the individual. We ask the parent to tell us something great about their child, not what disability they have. We do list medication issues at the back of the plan, but we focus first on what is important to and for them, then on what is necessary for their support, and then what is necessary for their safety.”

Once they reach an outcome, they then decide how to spend the available dollars and they identify services. “We figure in whatever a typical 21-year-old might want to do. Some individuals want to go to community college. Some want to take exercise classes. It’s wonderful to help with physical health and expand education. We’re hoping to see some graduations from county colleges. Some want supported employment, while some want transportation to and from work. Some want to go out with a companion.”

"One mother helped her daughter to find a job, but the daughter wanted a support person on the job to assist her in learning the job and then be more of a companion once she feels comfortable at her job,” said Kneuer. “Community Options provided a support person who also takes her to work.

“Her budget also includes vocal lessons as part of her budget, since she enjoys singing. Her ELP team is looking into learning activities through the county parks, since she expressed an interest in weekday recreation. "I like seeing people involved in the community. I would much rather see community activity and gainful employment with supports than day placements."

Kneuer links families with agencies and teaches them how to negotiate for their supports. “We help them get the best for their dollars. That is where negotiating with different agencies comes in. Many agencies are receptive to that.”

She also helps families manage the paperwork part of their budget.

“The parents are the experts and we listen and offer support. It’s all about what is important to and for the individual and supporting the family.”

Pathways to Adult Life

by Maryann B. Hunsberger

The Division of Developmental Disabilities’ (DDD) service system has typically placed more emphasis on adult residential care than on young adults who were aging out of the education system. This lack of transition-to-adult-life planning has often left families with few options.

In 2002, DDD began shifting service delivery away from group homes and toward providing supports and services geared to individual needs. This effort, called Real Life Choices, is being expanded county-by-county. And now the state is addressing the unmet needs of students transitioning into adult life.

Lorraine D’Sylva-Lee began working as Director of Transition in August 2004 through a DDD contract with the Family Support Center of New Jersey. D’Sylva-Lee is a parent of a child with developmental disabilities and a public member of the NJ Council on Developmental Disabilities.

That October, four months after the 2004 graduation, the division contacted all DDD-eligible students whose twenty-first birthday took place that year too offer them and their families a series of information and education sessions.

“That was the first year that money ($5 million) was specifically allocated toward transition,” said D’Sylva-Lee. “We served all 2004 graduates with something, whether that was providing them with information and connecting them to the Division of Vocational Rehabilitation Services (DVRS) or finding them traditional or nontraditional services.”

Real Life Choices is the nontraditional option, while day programs are the traditional option. The first time families ever had the option of Real Life Choices for transition was in 2004. Twenty-one individuals moved forward with Real Life Choices for transition that year.

Currently, two efforts are available under the name Real Life Choices. The first was the effort started in 2002 with individuals on DDD’s priority waiting list. It addresses more than just transition needs. Real Life Choices for those individuals transitioning from school to adult life, however, is a statewide option that looks specifically at the day activity portion of a person’s life.

After sending out invitation letters to students and their families, D’Sylva-Lee began doing statewide orientation regarding these changes. “Some of the families we worked with in 2004 were in desperate situations. Some were just looking for day programs. We expanded the day programs by 125 slots in 2004. This is the traditional option. The efforts that the division has going on around transition doesn’t just cover Real Life Choices. It also looks at expanding existing contracts where they are able to expand. It’s both traditional and nontraditional.”

D’Sylva-Lee said offering more options was a new concept to most families. It was the first time they heard about self-direction and utilizing individualized budgets for their children. Some brought their children with them to the sessions, while others chose not to.

After the initial orientation session, families attended statewide follow-up sessions presented by the Boggs Center where they learned to develop Essential Lifestyle Plans (ELPs), a planning tool that the division uses to help individuals and families develop descriptions of support needs. DDD connected these families with a support coordinator who helped them form the ELP. Families held planning discussions in small groups and individual sessions.

“You need a current snapshot of who the individual is before looking at what supports they need and how those should be provided. When the plan is developed, the coordinators continue to work with families, identifying supports and services, and deciding how they’ll be provided within the budget.”

From the 2004 sessions, the division discovered that more families participated in evening sessions, so they held all 2005 sessions in the evening. In 2005, the Division reached out six months before students aged out. “Each year, we reach out to them earlier and try to give them as much planning time as possible.”

DDD also broadened the topics presented in the information and education sessions. In 2005, they included a Benefits and Financial Planning Session. Representatives from the Social Security Administration talked about benefits and provided names of contacts. Community Health Law Project representatives talked about special needs trusts and helped families to understand the financial issues that affect adults with disabilities. Families received attorney referral lists. “The goal was to inform and educate people so they could make informed choices,” said D’Sylva-Lee.

DDD provided a Traditional Program Session with DDD day program coordinators in 2005, and partnered with DVRS to present Supported Employment sessions throughout the state. Real Life Choices and self-direction were also presented at those joint sessions.

The planning for the 2006 target group started in 2005. “DDD cannot do this in isolation. Partnerships and collaborations are needed. Families told us they wished they knew about this while their children were still being educated,” D’Sylva-Lee said.

Therefore, the Boggs Center formed an inter-agency group with DDD, DVRS, the Division of Disability Services (DDS), and the Department of Education. They began meeting monthly in February 2005, with families, teachers and provider agencies also attending. Out of these meetings came Pathways to Adult Life, the name for DDD’s transition efforts.

This year, the division is contacting students one to two years prior to their aging out of the education system. They are now working with both 2006 and 2007 graduates.

D’Sylva-Lee said families typically are unaware of the roles of the school districts and DVRS, as well as DDD’s new initiatives. In October and November 2005, DDD provided a broad overview of adult services and contact information to parents.

The Department of Education (DOE) has taken the lead in presenting this same information to school district personnel. DOE presented sessions explaining which steps toward transition should be happening at school and discussed how they could assist parents.

The DVRS sessions include information on when parents and schools should contact them for assistance, and DDS representatives explain their Workability program, which allows some workers with permanent disabilities to receive New Jersey Medicaid benefits even if their earnings are more than allowed under federal Medicaid guidelines.

More invitation-only sessions took place this spring.

Next year, Pathways to Adult Life hopes to be able to develop an even broader structure that includes providers and others with an interest in transition. They hope to be part of county-based information sessions. County sessions would not be limited to a specific graduating year.

“These students have such tremendous capabilities. So many families were not looking for a day program and wanted more. And there are still many families hanging on for day programs. We are presenting the options to people so they can consider all the information and decide which path to take,” D’Sylva-Lee said.

Mom Gets to Wear a Different Hat

by Maryann B. Hunsberger

Families who prefer the traditional option of Pathways to Adult Life—a new state effort to help students with disabilities transition to adulthood—often do so because their adult children have more severe disabilities. Through Pathways, they can explore all the options before making their choice. Once they do decide the state Division of Developmental Disabilities (DDD) helps find day activities.

Mindy Norlian of Cherry Hill chose the traditional option for her daughter, Rebecca (Becky), 22.  Becky has multiple disabilities, is nonverbal and displays autistic characteristics.

Becky’s diagnosis came from Children’s Hospital when she was one year old, after she missed several milestones. From ages 8 to 21 she attended Larc School in Bellmawr, where Norlian is an active volunteer.

During Becky’s formative years, Norlian developed a home-based invitation and calligraphy business so she could be home with Becky and her sister Allison (Alli) who is now 16 years old. She divorced along the way, making the income she earned from home-based work even more important. Yet, with Becky approaching 21, Norlian hoped she could get back to teaching.

As Becky neared graduation, Norlian attended six training sessions with Pathways and began to explore the possibilities offered through Real Life Choices. “Each training session was a little different. Six families came and some brought their children, so I brought Becky to the last couple sessions. They showed us films and talked about options,” said Norlian.

Before the sessions, Norlian wrote a paper called, “A Day in the Life of Becky,” which explained her likes and dislikes. “It talks about everyday things like her favorite songs, her favorite foods. I bring this whenever she goes for out-of-home respite.”

DDD’s transition sessions expanded on this. “The DDD workers let me make my own decisions and include Becky. It was helpful to put down on paper things I had never thought about. It put things in perspective and showed me that I needed a traditional program for Becky. I wanted her to be in a safe place on a regular basis where she could enjoy herself. I realized that Becky won’t be able to bag at Shop Rite or go to an occupational training center, so that’s why the traditional day program was right.

“Through these sessions, we made a whole book about Becky. It explains what she likes, what she does and who everyone in her life is. Anyone who cares for her will know about her in depth.”

Norlian visited several day programs before choosing one. “By going to see these places, I got to see everything available and learn which program was the most appropriate.”

DDD, Norlian and Becky agreed that Larc’s day program was best. Most of the other attendees are young adults like Becky. Consistency and routine are necessary for Becky, so Norlian felt she would be comfortable at Larc because it is familiar. “Taking her away from a regular routine upsets her. Even getting a new student on the bus can upset her, so I didn’t want to change her world too much. She still had to adjust to this program, although it’s on the same campus, but the adjustment was easier.”

Since Becky has been attending Larc’s day program, Norlian has resumed working outside the home. She works as an educational assistant with students with disabilities in the public school district. “Now that she has somewhere to go all day, it’s possible for me to do this. Her day program is a longer day than school was, so I can work a full day.”

At LARC, the young adults take part in various activities. They make crafts, bake cookies and other desserts, go on field trips to the mall, go out to lunch and to the movies. Since she has aged out of the school system, she no longer gets occupational, physical or speech therapy.

“Larc works to meet the goals in Becky’s IHP (Individualized Habilitation Plan). They have a mini apartment at Larc where they work on independent living skills, such as making beds, cleaning up and folding clothes. Some of these kids will eventually live in a group home, so they need to learn how to clean up. Some learn to use a washer and dryer. Becky learned how to pick up her plate and put it in the sink. I was surprised when she started to put her plate in the sink after dinner!”

Becky has made friends at the day program and enjoys being with them each day and at after-hours activities, such as at the prom they hold each May. “Becky loves it. The kids get all dressed up in tuxes and long dresses and wear corsages. Some even come in limos.”

It’s important to Norlian that her daughter experience typical, age-appropriate activities. For this reason, she had Bat Mitzvah and Sweet 16 parties for Becky. “She’s a disabled young Jewish woman who deserved this. She is no different from anyone else’s child and needs to have the same life experiences. Once a week, she attended classes through Jewish Family Services. She learned songs and made Jewish decorations. She couldn’t say the prayers at the Bat Mitzvah or read from the Torah, but she could sing some of the Hebrew songs and the rabbi blessed her. There wasn’t a dry eye in the whole place. The rabbi said this was the holiest Bat Mitzvah of all the ones he has done. Friends came back to the house afterward. I believe she understood everything that day. If I show her the tape of the day, she can say ‘Bat Mitzvah,’ even though she can’t say too many words.”

Becky likes many things that other young women her age enjoy, such as watching videos, listening to Beatles music, hanging out in her room and dancing. She enjoys going to restaurants and malls. She likes having her nails polished, having her hair brushed and wearing body spray. When her mother forgets the body spray, Becky hands it to her. She also enjoys looking through books. “I believe she can read, as she can point to flashcards and identify the correct word.”

Now that Becky is a young adult, her mother is thinking even more about her future. “Alli offered to take care of Becky when she grows up. Alli is great with Becky. She watches her, changes her diapers, and does whatever Becky needs. However, I don’t want her whole life to be taking care of her sister. I want her to have a life and have her own children. All I ask is that she check in on her and spend time with her if something happens to me.”

To get Becky used to being without her mother, Norlian takes her to a respite home, Tuckahoe House in Williamstown. They have a 24-hour staff, and Becky goes there when her mother travels. “Going there gives her an opportunity to know what it’s like to be away from me. The first time I took her, I realized that the real test would be how she would do if she went back a second time. When she went back, she ran in as though she was happy to be there. It made me feel much better, but it made me realize that I have to figure out where Becky will live when I get older. It’s nerve wracking to know I’ll have to place Becky into a residential program one day.

“I now know that I need to have some say in where Becky will live when I get older. Inside of her, I believe there is a young woman who wants to leave mom some day, even though she acts like a child on the outside. She still wants some independence from mom.”

Norlian can’t imagine what life would be like if Pathways hadn’t helped her to place Becky in the right day program. “Oh my God, it would be difficult. I couldn’t work outside the home and that would be difficult financially. It would be difficult emotionally to never be able to get out of the house. I don’t mind being home with my kids, but 24 hours of caring for someone every day would be hard. I have no problem caring for her, but we all need a break. We all need a chance to put a different hat on our heads.

“Becky is happy, safe and learning. I don’t worry at all. If she were home, she’d be bored and I’d be worrying about her not having anything to do. She wouldn’t get the social stimulation that she does at Larc, since she doesn’t have friends in the neighborhood. What young adult wants to hang out with their mom all the time anyway?”

Norlian feels it is sad that at 21, the school district no longer works with special needs adults. She wishes there were more programs for all young adults with disabilities. “Some parents have to quit their jobs when their children graduate. I’ve seen disabled kids in nursing homes because there is nowhere they can go. It all comes down to the state’s need for funding, and funding cuts always happen. I think DDD’s transition options are good. The meetings and sessions let parents know what is available for their child. I think it’s good that they have both the traditional and the Real Life Choices options, so parents can choose. This day program has been my savior.”

Creating Prosperous Futures:

The Success of Savings Program

by Fay Reiter

“Does anyone know what an ATM machine is?” Sherri LaRouche asked a group of young adults one evening at a class held at the Freehold Branch of the Provident Bank.  All twenty-three of the eager students listened attentively as she explained how to operate the machine.

This was the first session of Success of Saving: Project American Dream, a program sponsored by Allies, Inc., that helps people with disabilities and low income learn how to save money and build assets. LaRouche, assistant vice-president of the bank, is one of the instructors.

Allies, a non-profit provider of supports and services for people with disabilities, works with community-based financial organizations like Provident to set up accounts and explain bank services. The free program is designed to help participants develop a savings goal and create a monthly savings plan. 

Participants toured the branch and learned how to cash and deposit checks, how to use a drive through window, the uses of coin machines and safe deposit boxes, and how other banking services could work for them.

Participants are required to be employed at least twenty hours a week. They receive membership in the unique saving club where each dollar they contribute is matched by 2 dollars. At the end of the eight-month period, each participant receives the matched funds along with their savings account funds, which are applied toward their savings goal. Club participants can save up to $500 with a maximum match of up to $1,000.

“I love the Success of Savings Program because it teaches financial literacy and empowers people to work and save,” said Liz Aquino-Rossi, acting director of the program.

According to Dennis Rizzo, planner and contract manager for the New Jersey Council on Developmental Disabilities—which provided initial funding for the program and still supports it through a grant—Individual Development Accounts (IDA’s) were originally established for people on Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF). The IDA allowed TANF recipients to put a certain amount of earnings in special savings account without the treat of losing their public assistance benefits.

“We established the program with Allies on the basic premise that people who rely on the public support system have cycles of dependency that prohibit them from learning the personal financial skills that most of us take for granted,” said Rizzo. “Many didn’t know how to write a check or balance a checkbook. As a result, it is hard for them to even envision building a financial base. Like many people living on very low incomes their lives are geared from monthly check to monthly check.

“In this program, we are getting people with developmental disabilities that are working and giving them the opportunity to begin to save and learn about personal finance,” Rizzo said.

The Success of Savings program is a step toward the full Individual Development Account program, the next phase that would enable someone to save for education, a home or condominium. Allies has been approved for federal matching funds for a full IDA program. 

Jenny Romero, a 33-year-old resident of Maplewood, is a graduate of last year’s SOS program, held in collaboration with Sovereign Bank. “I joined the club because I wanted to save money,” Romero said. “I couldn’t put a lot of money in the bank because my Social Security entitlement limits me to saving up to $1,500. This program allows me to save additional money without penalty.”

Romero is thrilled that so far she has saved $375, which will be matched by $2 for every dollar she has saved. “The Success of Savings program was a really great experience for me. It taught me how to budget and save money. I am hoping to save enough money so that in the future, I can purchase a house. With the help of the savings club, my dream of home ownership is now possible.”

Romero, who has cerebral palsy, is a Research and Development Associate for Family Intervention Services, a non-profit organization that provides counseling for families in need. She has her own apartment and drives to work every day. 

Previously, she lived in a nursing home, but thanks to Allies she was able move out and live on her own. “Allies helped make me feel that I was capable of living a normal life. I always refer to Allies as my wings because they have given me so much freedom to fly and explore Thanks to them, I now have hope.”

Matthew Sasnow, a 20-year-old Freehold resident, is looking forward to participating in the Provident Bank series.  Sasnow works part-time as a greeter at Wal-Mart and would like to save up for a trip to Las Vegas. To that end, he has set a goal of saving $500 dollars. 

Sasnow ‘s mother, Sheila, is excited about him having the opportunity to learn how to save money and go to the bank on his own. She believes the program will help him become more independent and assist him in his transition to adult life.

 “I think it is great that we have already learned about depositing coins into a coin machine,” said Sasnow’s mom.  “I have a lot of coins that I am planning to take for deposit, and I am looking forward to the next session where Matthew will learn to fill out a deposit slip on his own.”

Maria Romano, vice-president and regional sales manager for Provident Bank, is excited about offering the program. “We are a community-based bank and we see this as a good opportunity to partner with Allies and reach out to the community.”

Allies is currently offering the Success of Savings program in Middlesex, Monmouth and Mercer Counties. For more information about the Success of Savings program go to www.alliesnj.org.

Fighting an Equal Opportunity Disease
By Jonathan Jaffe

It is a quiet Friday afternoon at The Arc of Monmouth County in Tinton Falls – the ideal atmosphere for Nancy Razza, a local clinical psychologist, to facilitate her small support group in the library overlooking the grassy courtyard.

Today, the gathering sits in six chairs in a loose circle. Razza and two doctoral students begin their weekly, hour-long session with three middle-aged men. The three have diverse backgrounds, but one thing in common: they all have mental disabilities and substance abuse problems.

"People with developmental disabilities never have an easy time integrating themselves in community services, where they can benefit from 12-step programs such as Alcoholics Anonymous," Razza says. "They don’t often have social skills and don’t have transportation. That is why we hold the support groups here."

On this particular Friday, one participant named George slumps forward in his chair, arms folded. He’s lamenting, worried about a 70-year-old friend who had worked with him at ShopRite. She’s now in the final stages of cancer.

He exchanges glances with Rob as they admit they "fell down a few times" during Rob’s Super Bowl party, comprising just the two of them.

Meanwhile, Jim admits to the group that he placed his hand on the shoulder of his job coach, inadvertently making her feel uncomfortable.

"I expressed my feelings and I realized I did things I didn’t mean to do," Jim says. "I’m a good person. That’s why I joined this group. I apologized and I know I was wrong. I asked her to forgive me."

"We were very proud of you for doing that Jim," Razza tells him.

Jim lets out a deep sigh of relief. He rubs his hands together as he smiles and says "Thank you."

"You’ve learned from your mistakes," Razza reassures him.

This program, similar to the components of Alcoholics Anonymous, is one of many such support groups across the state serving people with disabilities with alcohol or drug dependency.

These programs pull from an annual $350,000 pot, which former Gov. Christie Whitman created in 1996 to assist this specific population. This special funding was set-aside through the "Alcohol and Drug Abuse Program for the Deaf, Hard of Hearing and Disabled." The 10-year-old law provided for the first set-aside in the nation to spend $350,000 annually for substance abuse services for people with disabilities.

This ground-breaking legislation was the result of a grassroots advocacy effort of nearly 15 years, according to the National Association of Alcohol, Drugs and Disability (NAADD), which led the charge. It was considered a victory for advocates across the country who had been working to provide alcohol and drug prevention and treatment services to people with disabilities for more than two decades, NAADD officials say.

A total of $350,000 in state and federal funds have been earmarked in State Fiscal Year 2006 to help people with disabilities and those who are deaf or hard of hearing work through their substance problems. Funds are used for intensive inpatient and outpatient treatment, education, case management, mobile counseling, advocacy, prevention and other family services.

The legislation called for the establishment of a Program Advisory Committee to advise the Commissioner. This committee, the Commissioners Advisory Committee on the Deaf, Hard of Hearing and Disabled, advises state Division of Addiction Services (DAS) on the utilization of funding.

James W. Smith Jr., Acting Director of DAS, says New Jersey "appears to be a national model" in its approach to serving people with disabilities with addictions.

"Governors and commissioners, since the passing of the legislation, have taken this issue seriously," Smith says. "Other states say they can’t discriminate against the disabled. That is very different from being proactive, which is what we are doing here in New Jersey. Even though we’ve made progress in this area, there is still a lot of work to be done."

"Addiction is prevalent across a wide spectrum," he adds. "What we know from research is that patients integrating with other patients have the best chance for success."

The Other Fund

In addition, the state has earmarked $2.8 million to upgrade facilities across the state, making it possible for people with disabilities to physically access buildings that host addiction treatment programs, thus making it possible for licensed agencies to accommodate and treat people who are deaf, hard of hearing or have other disabilities.

As of the end of March, $2.1 million of the $2.8 million fund has been spent. Specifically, the money has been used to ensure facilities are barrier-free, address life safety issues and fully comply with the federal Americans with Disabilities Act, according to Ellen Lovejoy, a spokeswoman for the state Department of Human Services.

(Ed. Note—at press time for this issue the department had announced it was reevaluating these funding awards due to possible irregularities in the bid process. Families magazine decided to hold our story on these projects until our next issue so we could provide our readers with an accurate account of the status of these important upgrades.)

Lovejoy notes the $2.8 million expense is a one-time budget, while the department, under state law, must earmark at least $350,000 to fund addiction service programs each year, as part of a law signed Jan. 5, 1996.

"This state has taken this population very seriously," Smith adds. "I recently had a conversation with (state Department of Human Services) Commissioner (Kevin) Ryan about how serious and important it is to maintain this commitment. Addiction counseling is a specialized area of expertise.

"The hearing impaired, the visually impaired and the disabled are not able to get the services they need by a general counselor because of the specialty of their addiction," he says. "We are dealing with two things: the expertise needed to provide addiction treatment coupled with professionals who have the knowledge and background to service the disabled."

Services

The earmarked dollars went to four agencies throughout the state for the following services: mobile treatment and case management for the deaf and hard of hearing; interpreter services, including eight weekly 12- step meetings; detox interpreting, classes to educate students about working with people who are deaf and hard of hearing; and client life skill services.

Steve Shevlin, Executive Director of Signs of Sobriety (SOS), one of the contract recipients from the earmarked funds, says SOS services the entire state, noting it also receives funding from the United Way and Mercer County. He said no other organization in New Jersey exclusively provides addiction services to people who are deaf or hard of hearing.

"We provide educational services to organizations about the needs of deaf or hard of hearing individuals," he says. "We also provide interpreting programs and captioning services to clients who need detox and after care, such as 12-step programs. We also provide treatment and counseling on a one-on-one basis and in group sessions. "

NJ Leads Nation

Several other states have made efforts to open treatment doors to people with disabilities. As early as 1991, Massachusetts, California and other states began developing partnerships between their state substance abuse agencies and advisory bodies of disability experts, according to NAADD.

NAADD has worked to make this a nationwide issue. The group banded together in 1996 to form a broad-based coalition to educate constituents about the prevalence of substance abuse among people with disabilities and to lend support to advocate for local, state and national policies.

In the early 1990s, the federal government began taking steps to address the problem. The Substance Abuse Mental Health Services Administration’s Center for Substance Abuse Prevention began funding projects, convened disability forums and assembled a Disability Workgroup.

Since 1992, the U.S. Department of Education’s National Institute on Disability Rehabilitation and Research (NIDRR) has funded a Research and Training Center on Drug Abuse and Disability, housed at Wright State University in Dayton, Ohio.

The Knot that Never Goes Away
by Maryann B. Hunsberger

It’s difficult for parents of children with disabilities to find appropriate health care for their children. Between inadequate transportation, high medical costs and doctors who don’t take Medicaid, some children with disabilities can’t access the health care they need. When a child with a disability has more than one type of diagnosis, or when doctors aren’t sure of a correct diagnosis, it can be even harder.

Debra Flagg is familiar with this scenario. Throughout the years, her son, Adam Morris, 25, has been diagnosed with mental retardation, Asperger’s syndrome, autism, obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) and Tourette’s syndrome.

“The OCD and Tourette’s were the latest diagnoses. It is very frustrating to get all these different diagnoses, because nobody seems sure of exactly what he has.”

Flagg, who lives with Adam and her husband Arthur in Sicklerville, feels that without one specific diagnosis, it’s hard to treat an individual. “If we knew exactly what disability he has, we could help him progress. Without knowing his correct diagnosis, it leaves us wondering what we can do to help him be more functional.”

One key to finding a correct diagnosis, Flagg feels, would be to remove her son from all medication and evaluate him when his behavior is not changed by prescription drugs. “Off his medicine, the disability would be easier to diagnose. The doctors could find out which medicine would work best that way. He is on antipsychotic and antidepressant medicines that make him tired and controlled each time doctors evaluate him.”

Flagg knows that her son can’t stop his medication while at home, so she has tried to find care for him at a facility that admits patients with dual diagnoses, removes them from medication and evaluates them.

“There aren’t many facilities like that. That’s a big problem. At a typical mental hospital, a person with developmental disabilities is mixed in with people who are drug addicted or psychotic. My son is very trusting and less independent. They could take Adam’s money or hurt him.”

Flagg did find one facility that she feels would be good for Adam, Shipley House in Mount Laurel. Their specialty is reevaluating individuals after removing them from medication. However, the facility is near a main road and Adam’s psychiatrist, who is not affiliated with the hospital, fears that he might wander off and a car might strike him. The facility also has a long waiting list. Flagg has found no other facilities like Shipley House.

Adam went into crisis in July after his great-grandmother and two of his friends died. At that time, his mother took him to Kennedy Hospital’s Crisis Center. Kennedy was unable to deal with Adam, so they sent him to Trinitas Hospital. Trinitas kept Adam for eight days of group and individual counseling. “They didn’t remove his medication, reevaluate him or recommend a long-term plan other than counseling. They sent him home with his medications doubled. The only other choice was Ancora Hospital, where they would mix him in with criminally insane people. I don’t want him around violent people, because they could harm him.”

Adam previously saw a psychiatrist at the University of Medicine and Dentistry at New Jersey (UMDNJ), but he changed physicians. “UMDNJ’s hours are limited. If it’s past 5 PM, you can’t see anyone. That’s why I needed to find him another doctor. He needs more choices than that. I like the new doctor, Dr. Ted Kastner. I feel like I’m not limited now to whichever doctor takes Medicaid, also. We had to switch HMOs so that he could see Dr. Kastner. This meant he could no longer see the primary care physician who has cared for him since he was a young boy. The choices are just so limited in general when you have a child with developmental disabilities who has mental health symptoms.”

Even though the family has insurance for Adam, co-pays are high. “One of his medicines alone has a $120 co-pay, and he takes three. The real kick is that my husband works 60 hours a week to pay for these medicines because I stay home to care for Adam in case he goes into crisis, gets sick or his bus doesn’t come on time. I couldn’t work full time and not know what is going on with him. Until Adam’s life is squared away, I won’t have a life of my own.”

Adam attends a program at the Abilities Center of Southern New Jersey on Mondays and Fridays. The Abilities Center—which, according to its website “provides employment, job-training and educational services for people with disabilities and other disadvantages”—helped Adam to find part time work at Wawa, doing janitorial work, such as stocking shelves, emptying trash and cleaning coffee spills. “He likes his job, but he wants to work at Lowe’s or Home Depot so he can make locks. Every week when he is paid, we go to one of those stores to shop and look at the keys. He loves any stores that have home supplies. They are like playgrounds for him.”

Adam tried to find employment at Lowe’s. He registered with Jewish Family Services, who took him for an interview. “The interviewer had no understanding of people with disabilities and Adam wasn’t prepared enough with answers. When the interviewer asked why he wanted to work at Lowe’s, he said because he didn’t want to work at the Abilities Center. He didn’t get the job, of course! Just after that, Adam went into crisis and we put things on hold.”

Flagg said Adam’s career choices are as limited as his psychiatric care choices. “He’s just been pretty much put into whatever job is available, rather than having someone work with him to maximize his potential and find out what he really wants to do with his life.”

Adam and his mother both attended Partners in Policymaking in an attempt to maximize his possibilities. She described it as an eye-opening experience. “It made me see how I had limited my son’s potential. I saw that I was holding him back in ways, and I realized that others have such limited expectations of him.

“He’d be happier, less stressed out and less in crisis if someone evaluated his likes and dislikes and helped him find what he wants to do with his life. Right now, he really doesn’t know what he wants to do other than making keys, and so far, he hasn’t been able to get into that work. Adam can put anything together by looking at a picture. He’s bright, yet he’s putting out trash for a living.”

Adam’s case manager at DDD has referred him for placement, probably in a group home, and then into a shared apartment. “I’d love to see him getting married some day. He wants to marry and have children. He wanted to marry his last girlfriend, but it didn’t work out.”

Adam’s last relationship ended when he went into crisis last summer. “Her father was scared by his going into crisis. I can’t blame him.”

When Adam goes into crisis, he bites himself, punches himself in the face, says he will run in front of a car, tries to put his hand through the window glass, hits his stepfather, and has even taken swings at Flagg. When she tries to restrain him from putting his hand through the window, it escalates the situation.

Adam went into crisis again right before Christmas. Flagg called the police and informed them that the situation involved a psychiatric crisis in a person with a developmental disability. When the police came, Adam ran outside. “He got in the cop’s face and tried to push me in the house. The cop threw him on the ground and sprayed Mace in his eyes. I yelled at the police officer and asked why he would Mace someone with a disability. They said they had to do that to prevent him from harming me or running into the street. I think there is a lack of sensitivity training with public agencies. There is a discrepancy between the rights of people with disabilities and what society knows about their rights.

“The situation with the police broke my heart. I was so distraught. It not only scares him when something like this happens, but it puts friction in our relationship when I have to call the police. But, that is what our case manager tells us to do, because that is all we can do.”

Adam’s mother feels that adequate medical care for his disabilities would prevent most of his life’s problems. “If there were concrete treatment for Adam to learn to deal with his frustrations and emotions, it would be different. I think he could also be in a better job. He would probably still have his girlfriend and be planning for marriage. He would feel better about himself. He could be more stable and not get upset over every loud noise, someone looking at him the wrong way or violence on TV. Anything can set him off. The knot in my stomach never goes away. 

“It’s so frustrating. All you get when you look for answers are dead ends. The bureaucracy has changed in favor of people with disabilities, but not enough. I’m Adam’s advocate. I have to be. I won’t allow him to fall through the cracks anymore. If it takes until the day I die, Adam will have the life he deserves. The population of people with disabilities deserves more. And we can’t give up on them.”

News from the Councils

 

RFSPC #1

PO Box 13

Pompton Plains, NJ 07444

Sussex, Warren, Morris

No update available. Meets the third Tuesday of each month at Morristown Memorial Hospital, 100 Madison Ave., Level B, Conference Rm. #2, Morristown, NJ  07962 from 7:00 PM to 9:00 PM.

RFSPC #2

PO Box 4242

Clifton, NJ 07012

http://www.angeltowns.com/town/rfspc2/

Passaic, Bergen, Hudson

No update available. For more information as well as an application, contact Monique
Dujue-Wilson, Statewide Family Support Coordinator, at 609-341-3112, 
1-800 216-1199, Option #1, or e-mail at monique.wilson@njcdd.org.

 

RFSPC #3
PO Box 174
Bedminster, NJ 07921
Somerset, Union

At press time Council # 3 had two public forums scheduled—one on April 25 in Somerset County at the Midland School, Readington Road, North Branch; and the other on May 3 at Temple Emanu-El, East Broad Street, Westfield in Union County. Elizabeth Shea, Director of Government Affairs, The Arc of NJ, was scheduled to discuss family support.  At the same time, information will be collected from the attendees regarding the services that they are receiving and those that they need. 

Meets the fourth Tuesday of each month (except July and August) at the Scotch Plains Public Library, 1927 Bartle Ave, Scotch Plains, NJ  07076 from 7:30 PM to 9:00 PM. Anyone who is interested in auditing the meeting is welcome.

RFSPC #4
PO Box 376
Maplewood, NJ 07040-0376
(973) 419-0348
Essex

Council 4 is meeting the 1st Wed of each month at the Bloomfield Municipal Building in the Mayors Conference Room. We are always looking for new members and welcome all who are interested in attending.

RFSPC #5
PO Box 5142
Kendall Park, NJ 08824
Hunterdon, Mercer, Middlesex

Council #5 is seeking new members from Mercer, Middlesex and Hunterdon Counties.  We meet the second Saturday of every month from 10AM - Noon at St. Paul’s School, 62 South Main Street, Milltown, NJ 08850.  The Council looks forward to hearing from families and stakeholders, as well as prospective new members.  We can be reached through Monique Wilson, Statewide Coordinator of Family Support, at 609-292-3745 or by writing to the above address.  Our monthly meetings are open to the public.

RFSPC #6
PO Box 704
Lakewood, NJ 08701
(800) 216-1199 option #1
Monmouth, Ocean

Council 6 held Public and Providers Forum on March 30 at the Children’s Center of Monmouth County in Neptune, NJ. It was attended by 200 family members and people with disabilities. A speaker from DDD talked about Real Life Choices and families currently participating in RLC there spoke about their experiences.  In addition, we had Assemblyman Ron Dancer of the 30th district and two representatives from Senator Lautenberg’s office in attendance. The program introduced Real Life Choices and was very well received.

Council 6 meets the second Thursday of each month at the Lakewood Municipal Bldg, 3rd Street, Room C, Lakewood, NJ,  from 7:30 PM to 9:30 PM.

RFSPC #7
PO Box 641
Mount Laurel, NJ 08054
(800) 216-1199 option #1
Email: RFSPC7@comcast.net
Burlington, Camden

The Regional Family Support Planning Council #7 represents Burlington and Camden Counties. Our purpose is to monitor and evaluate existing services that are provided for people with developmental disabilities within the targeted area of South Jersey. Our meetings are held on the fourth Tuesday of each month at the Mount Laurel Public Library (location and day are subject to change). Please call or e-mail before attending.

Council #7 hosted an "Appreciation Night" at Carlucci's Restaurant in Mt. Laurel in February. Certificates were presented to council members for loyal service to the group, and everyone enjoyed the dinner and evening out.

  • Council #7 would like to welcome four new members:  Kim Coll, Yolanda DaSilva, Michael Marue and Joanne Stratton.  The present active membership is (11) members.

 

  • Debra Flagg, Adam Morris and Edna Holland attended a reception for gubernatorial candidate Jon Corzine that was held in Haddonfield, New Jersey on October 11, 2006.

 

  • Gail Furrer, Deborah Hill and Monique Wilson attended a program at the Githens Center where an overview of Family Support services was provided. The second program is scheduled for November 16, 2005 at the Githens Center.

 

  • Johnnieve Weston and Deborah Hill attended the Strategic Planning Committee meeting on October 8, 2005.

 

  • Kim Coll and Gail Furrer are currently serving on the Budget Committee with the Statewide Family Support Council.

 

  • Kim Coll graduated from Partners in Policy Making Program on November 13, 2005. The Partnerships in Policy Making Program is a leadership training initiative for parents and self-advocates,

 

  • Deborah Hill, Ronnie Coll, and Kim Coll attended Family Awareness Day in Atlantic City on November 5, 2005.

 

  • Nancy Foster and Gail Furrer attended the second series of overview of Family Support Services on November 2005 at the Githens Center.

 

  • Council #7 will hold its annual providers fair on May 10, 2006 at the Burlington County Special Services School, Woodlane Road, Mt. Holly, NJ 08061.

Council #7 will hold an Open Forum on May 22, 2006 from 6:00 – 9:00 p.m.  The Forum will be held at New Jersey Division of Developmental Disabilities Building, located at 2 Echelon Plaza, 221 Laurel Road, Suite 210, Voorhees, NJ, 08043.  The Open Form will be an opportunity to tell your council and DDD about your family’s needs.

Meets the fourth Tuesday of each month at the Mt. Laurel Library, 100 Walt Whitman Ave., Mt. Laurel, NJ  08054, from 7:00 PM to 9:00 PM.                                       

RFSPC #8
PO Box 11
Glassboro, NJ 08028
856-863-2664
Salem, Cumberland and Gloucester

Council 8 will hold Open Forums on May 17 and May 24, 2006. On May 17, the Open Forum will be held at The Arc of Cumberland, 160 W. Sherman Ave, Vineland, NJ from 7 PM to 9 PM. On May 24, the Open Forum will be held at The Arc of Salem, Woodstown Road, PO Box 5, Salem, NJ from 7 PM to 9 PM.

If you need special accommodations or interpreters, call Monique Wilson at 1-800-216-1199, Option 1.

If you have concerns and cannot attend, contact us by email at rfspc8@hotmail.com or by letter to RFSPC#8, PO Box 11, Glassboro, NJ 08028.

RFSPC #9
PO Box 84
Somers Point, NJ 08244
Atlantic, Cape May

Council #9 received information about additional money for Atlantic and Cape May Counties in the amount of $154,800. The recommendations of these allocated funds have been given to Mary Ann Fritsky, DDD. Approval of Council #9’s recommendations is still pending approval of the budget.

New services will be offered in Atlantic County and Cape May County for Saturday Drop-off. The location of the two new services will be the Northfield Community School with The Epilepsy Foundation as provider and The Recreation Center in Cape May County with The ARC of Cape May as provider.

Council #9 is planning a public forum the month of May in Cape May County. As of this date, a site has not been reserved that would accommodate people with and without disabilities. The public forum is an opportunity for families and caregivers to express their needs to keep their loved one at home.

RFSPC#9 Meetings are held the third (3rd) Thursday of the Month at The ARC of Atlantic County, 6550 Delilah Road, Suite 101, Egg Harbor Township, NJ 08234. Call Mary Ann Philippi, Chair at (609) 641-1877 for dates and directions.

Council #9 is actively seeking new members and extending an invitation to former members to join the council to benefit their families as well as other families in Atlantic and Cape May Counties. Some former members have selected a group home, supervised apartment and/or other services that meet their needs and choice.

Therefore, membership fluctuates from full membership to just a few. Full membership and attendance at Council #9 meetings has fallen off dramatically in the past six months. Recruiting members is ongoing and frustrating because after some individuals attend a few meetings they decide they don’t want to commit their time to the council.

Changes in the delivery system of services from DDD have been instrumental in helping families make choices suitable for their loved one. Real Life Choices has been a success for families who have decided to use it.

If you have any questions, please call Mary Ann Philippi, Chair at (609) 641-1877.

A Different Vision
by Fay Reiter

Trevor Saunders is a teenager. He loves being outdoors, and goes camping, hiking and canoeing with the Boy Scouts. His favorite subjects in school are science and math. In his spare time he enjoys reading books on military history, working on the computer and playing solitaire.

And, like most people, 16-year-old Trevor has individual aspects about his life that make it remarkably his own.

Trevor was born with Aniridia, a rare congenital eye condition characterized by the underdevelopment or even absence of the iris. Over time, the condition usually causes loss of vision. By the time Trevor was seven months old, he had lost all his vision in the left eye. He had limited sight in his right eye until he was thirteen and he did almost everything sighted people do. He even rode a bike. But gradually, he lost vision in that eye as well.

“Until the beginning of 8th grade, I could read print, and see light,” Trevor says matter-of-factly, as he sits sprawled out in his historic home in Hopewell, New Jersey. “I can still see light and can make out objects.”

Trevor views his blindness as a factor of his life, but not the sole, determining factor.

“It’s not that you can’t do things, but you have to do them in a more inconvenient way” he says. “I’ve had to change the way I do things. In order to read (graphs), I have to have someone transfer it to Braille, which is less convenient to read than text. You can skim text, but with Braille, the chart is more difficult to just glance at.”

Trevor faces a similar challenge reading textbooks. “It’s hard now that I can’t read textbooks, so in addition to reading Braille, I listen to CD’s of books.”

Trevor’s blindness seems like his least favorite topic, and his face takes on a bored look when you mention it. He’d much rather talk about his passion for math and science and his involvement with the Boy Scouts where he has already holds the second highest rank of “Life.” He is currently working toward achieving Eagle Scout status; however his main goal with the scouts is to have fun.

“Being outside is the main motivation for me. I really like the camping and hiking.”

Through scouting, Trevor also has opportunities to pursue other interests like indoor rock wall climbing. “I enjoy navigating the wall. It’s really challenging and is an activity where I can just feel my way along. I would like to pursue outdoor rock climbing at some point.”

As is evident by now, Trevor is fiercely independent. You might easily find him walking down a Hopewell street with an obvious determination. He prefers not to use a cane, and his slim frame moves with such energy that he appears as if he’s running to catch a bus, his mass of curly brown hair flopping in the wind.

He seems to approach most tasks with ease, and seems unflustered by life, not surprising for someone who endured ten surgeries in the first nine months of his life. “Inconveniences” are what he refers to as the obstacles in his path, taking them on in the same way he might approach solving a math problem.

Trevor’s parents are separated and he lives with his father, Dan Saunders, who works for the New Jersey Historic Preservation Office. Trevor spends weekends at his mother’s house just a few blocks away, where his brother Duncan, 12, lives most of the time.

Although success seems to come easily to Trevor—he’s an honor student, an excellent swimmer and accomplished outdoorsman—he’s quite modest and doesn’t’ appear to be on overdrive like many kids his age. And he often shows a great sense of humor, about himself as well as life in general. 

“There are a few things I can’t do” he quips. “Like be a fighter pilot.”

Dan has a quiet manner that seems to have rubbed off on Trevor. He seems very comfortable with Trevor’s independent nature, but provides support when he needs it. Dan serves as a Boy Scout leader in Trevor’s Troop. Together, they read, listen to the radio and sometimes ride a tandem bike.

“Trevor has always found a way to adapt, and is starting to see himself as a blind person,” says Dan.

Dan would like to see Trevor use a cane on a regular basis to get around. Trevor uses one when he attends school at Hopewell Valley Central High, but still prefers to go without one otherwise.

Dan feels that Trevor’s teachers have been invaluable to his development. “Lillian Rankel, Trevor’s chemistry teacher has been wonderful for him. She has been a catalyst in Trevor’s development and even arranged to have a blind Ph.D. student, Cary Supalo, speak at Trevor’s school this year.

“Trevor’s association with Cary has been great,” says Dan. “I think he really likes to spend time with other blind people who are doing interesting things.”

Dan is understandably proud of Trevor, like most parents. But does not label his son as somehow a super-achiever because he has a vision impairment.

“Trevor is like anyone else,” Dan says. “He is a smart person who loves math and science. His level of determination is astonishing and he has an intense focus with a stunning level of recall. He can hear things once and remember them. Trevor can also be very stubborn, which has served him as both an asset and a liability.

 “He (Trevor) is very focused. He loves to be read to and will also listen to the radio and to books on CD. He particularly enjoys Tom Clancy novels and a broad array of non-fiction, such as military history and science.”

Dan credits Ronnie Staffenberg, Trevor’s aide at school, with being particularly helpful with Trevor’s technical transition from reading large print to Braille.

“Ronnie worked for the Division for the Blind (the New Jersey Commission for the Blind and Visually Impaired) and knows how to get help. She translates a great deal of material at school from written worksheets to Braille for him,” Dan explained. With the help of Ronnie and an extra period of support, Trevor is able to attend all regular education classes and is in honors classes in math and chemistry.

Dr. Lillian Rankel is Trevor’s chemistry teacher at Hopewell Valley Central High School. “Prior to becoming a teacher, I worked in private industry and was used to networking. So when I found out that I was going to have Trevor as a student I contacted the American Chemical Society and they put me in touch with Cary Supalo, a Ph.D. student at the Pennsylvania State University,” Rankel explained.

“Cary was also previously sighted and lost his vision gradually. He introduced us to JAWS, a software program that reads text out loud on his computer. He also attached probes to the computer so that it can read out the weights, temperatures and pH (which tells you how acidic something is).”

According to Rankel, the use of the probes will enable Trevor to do more experiments on his own. Rankel is excited that Cary is in the process of developing a probe that will communicate the color of a substance and report if it has turned cloudy. Cary gave Trevor a big Braille periodic table that lists the elements and their atomic masses and numbers,” Rankel said.

Trevor has enjoyed his association with Cary. “He had ideas for ways to do things that I never thought of so I don’t have to reinvent the wheel,” said Trevor. “He also created a THREE-D version of a magnetic board used for figuring out structural formulas from molecules.”

Trevor works in Dr. Rankel's classroom a couple of days after school on glassware and other skills so that he can take Advanced Placement Chemistry.

“Yesterday, he made up a solution of sodium chloride,” said Rankel. “We put tape on a triple beam balance so that he can feel where the numbers are.  I have a lot of models. If I am teaching, I will describe a model and he will feel it. I will say the first bond is at 12 o’ clock, etc.”

According to Dr. Rankel, the other students are very matter of fact about Trevor’s blindness and he has worked with many of them as a lab partners. Trevor will raise his hand often and likes to answer questions. 

“Trevor is very careful and patient, qualities that will make him very successful in chemistry labs,” said Rankel. “I hadn’t previously taught science to a blind student and I have found it to be a very interesting. I like to problem solve and enjoy the challenge of figuring out how to help Trevor learn to do things that other students do with writing. I made magnetic elements using felt electrons that he could place around elements to show how bonding occurs in compounds and around elements.”

Last fall, Dr. Rankel took Trevor to Princeton University to hear a speech by Erik Weihenmayer, a blind rock climber who climbed Mt. Everest in 2001 He explained how he tapped on ice to find his way, the same technique Trevor uses on the glassware to see how high the solution is in the vile,” Rankel said.

I think the biggest challenge Trevor will face as a chemist is changing people’s attitudes about blindness,” Rankel said. “Not too many people have the opportunity to meet blind people who are doing things. In the suburbs, we are isolated from people who are blind since we don’t have public transportation.”

 Trevor is active in extra curricular science activities and has volunteered to make up solutions for some of Rankel’s classes. He also participates in the World Health Club, where he works with classmates to raise awareness of health needs throughout the world. He recently gave a talk on the importance of aspirin in the treatment of diseases in Africa.

He entered Chemagination, a school chemistry contest, with another student where they will be creating an artificial kidney system.

“I have learned from working with Trevor how to think differently so that I can make some things that are useful for him,” said Rankel. “This has taught me to ‘think outside the box’. I feel there is always a solution to something, you just have to figure it out.”

Rankel described one lab that involved cutting and measuring straws. “Trevor had a scissors and his Braille ruler and he did his experiment like everyone else.”

Rankel also appreciates Trevor’s sense of humor. “He laughs at my jokes in class,” she quipped.

Rich Armington is one of Trevor’s Boy Scout leaders and has known Trevor his entire life. “My goal for Trevor and all the boys is to give them the opportunity to explore new territories. There is a difference between simply going outdoors and going outdoors trained. I hope to teach them the necessary skills for outdoor activities like hiking and backpacking, such as how to order the events to stay safe. The thinking process they develop while making these decisions in scouting can be translated to their personal lives.

“While we might see things as being difficult, Trevor doesn’t see things this way. If, for example, we are hiking on rocky terrain, which is hard for all of us, Trevor will do it by feel. He will also ask us to describe the terrain. The other boys will give him pointers like ‘look out for that rock, or go left.’ He can also navigate by listening to the footing of the boys in front of him.”

“Trevor can feel the expansiveness of the outdoors,” said Armington. “He simply gets as far as he can.”

According to Armington, Trevor is willing to try anything within reason. “He is a good swimmer and does really well on the rock wall. We even had him shooting black powder rifles at camp. He also paddles his own canoe, puts up his own tent and cooks his own meals on backpacking trips. Occasionally he gets disoriented but he usually finds his way.”

Armington said he has noticed that by and large the other scouts don’t view Trevor as different. They are very comfortable around him and will play manhunt, a popular hide and seek game.

“I’ve learned that I shouldn’t second-guess what Trevor can do,” said Armington. “It is best to give him as much information and let him decide what he can handle. I’ve also learned not to pre-judge him. In situations where he needs to focus, we leave him on his own. Scouting presents greater challenges than exist in the real world. We offer choices and hope to empower the boys to make decisions.”

Trevor’s mother, Melissa, is a calm and reflective woman who is working toward her Ph.D. “Until 2003, Trevor could see out of one eye and did everything,” she said thoughtfully while sitting in the living room of her comfortable ranch style home.

“It always seemed to me that he had learned to put up with so much that the little things that aggravate the rest of us are so little to him. I am completely and utterly in awe of Trevor. He will challenge things with an amazing determination, but doesn’t get overly emotional in any way. He doesn’t open up and talk much about himself. He’s the ultimate minimalist when it comes to communication. He gets real delight in thinking about math or chemistry problems.”

Trevor has always attended public school. It seems he made the decision himself right about the time he was about to start Kindergarten.

“I considered sending him to private school,” Melissa reflected. “But at the time you could see Hopewell Elementary School, the local public school, from the house we lived in. One day, Trevor pointed at the school and declared emphatically, ‘I want to walk to school. I don’t want to drive to school every day.” Melissa had already researched schools in the area and was most impressed with the Hopewell schools, which have worked out well for Trevor.

Trevor and his mom often read together. “I will read the New York Times Science section to him," she said. “Trevor has a really broad range of interests. Sometimes he will cook with me or we watch the history channel. He also loves to wrestle with his twelve-year-old brother Duncan, who is an avid La Cross player. The brothers like to sled off the roof together, when weather permits.”

One major hurdle the family had to over come when Trevor was younger was the knowledge that people born with Aniridia are also more prone to getting Wilms Tumor (a kidney tumor), so Trevor had to endure regular ultra scans for many years. Fortunately, he never developed the condition and is no longer at risk for it.

Melissa credits her parents with being very supportive. “He used to go to my parents three afternoons a week. My father is completely devoted to Trevor. When Trevor was in the 4th grade, he was asked to draw a picture of his hero and he drew his grandfather.

“Once we got through the first year of his life, having endured ten surgeries, it became apparent how resilient Trevor is,” said Melissa. “Since then it has been fun. Trevor makes it really hard for you to remember that he is blind. He has so much to teach the rest of us about how to deal with things and move on with our lives. He is a real role model for me.”

Melissa is concerned about Trevor being ready to become more independent as he gets older. “The critical elements are him gaining confidence with the caning and learning Braille,” she said.

Melissa is excited about Trevor’s participation this summer at “Rocket On” at the Goddard Space Center where he will be working with Nassau Scientists. “When Trevor met Cary Supala, it was a seminal point for him, meeting someone who is blind who had achieved so much.”

Melissa also acknowledged the support and resources Trevor has received throughout his life from the state Commission for the Blind and Visually Impaired. “We recently attended mobilizing and educator classes. The Commission has always provided aides in his classroom at school, and in sixth grade they provided a computer.”

The local Lions Club, historically committed to helping people with eye problems, also donated the machine that Trevor uses at high school to scan material and print it out in Braille.

Living in the small town of Hopewell also has been a great comfort to Melissa. “Everyone here is incredibly supportive and nurturing. I have no fears about Trevor walking around. It has been great that people know him and will help him find his way home if necessary.” 

Although life without sight can be challenging, clearly there are benefits to having a different kind of vision. As Scoutmaster Rich Armington says—“Most people look at Mt. Everest and say ‘I can’t climb it. It’s too big.’ Trevor doesn’t worry about the size of the mountain, he just puts one food in front of the other.”

Herb Hinkle: 30 Years of Legal Advocacy
by Jonathan Jaffe

Ask attorney Herbert D. Hinkle to come up with a case that helped define his 30-year legal career and he recalls a profoundly retarded man who was kept isolated and naked in a cell at the former North Princeton Developmental Center.

It was the mid-1970s. Staff at the now-defunct Skillman facility insisted he was dangerous. The young man was given a mat on the floor on which to sleep. On at least one occasion, when staff members tried to dress him, the man tore to shreds the T-shirt he was wearing, Hinkle recalls.

“We later realized that this young man had behavioral problems, but was not dangerous. We learned this shirt had simply been put on inside-out and he was objecting to that in the only way he knew how,” says Hinkle, then a young attorney with New Jersey’s fledgling Public Advocates Office.

“There was no malice or neglect on the part of the facility or its staff. It was a just ignorance,” says Hinkle, 57, in a recent interview. “The people who dealt with this young man were clueless. We don’t encounter that kind of ignorance today.”

 Just three decades ago, there were far fewer programs for people with developmental disabilities people in New Jersey. “Instead,” Hinkle says, “there were institutions.”

“That kind of situation does not exist anymore in New Jersey,” says Hinkle, who called that incident “something of a turning point” in his early legal career, helping him to gain a better focus.

A graduate of Drexel University, Hinkle received a Master’s degree in taxation from Temple University and then graduated Rutgers University School of Law before being hired by the New Jersey Public Advocate’s Office. He later served as director of the New Jersey Division of Advocacy for the Developmentally Disabled for a decade.

Today, Hinkle is widely known as a leading legal eagle for people with disabilities in New Jersey

During his time in the public sector, Hinkle says he saw a need for drastic improvement in the way the state, private care facilities, hospitals and schools dealt with people with physical and developmental disabilities.

Over the past two decades in private practice, Hinkle has been involved in a number of New Jersey’s precedent-setting cases concerning the developmentally disabled persons and the elderly. Hinkle & Fingles, in Lawrenceville, Marlton and Florham Park, and in Yardley and Plymouth Meeting, Pa., is among only a few New Jersey firms that specialize in this particular area of law.

When he went into private practice in the 1980s, a number of New Jersey law firms did guardianships and estate planning for the elderly and for families of people with disabilities, but Hinkle says few law firms concentrated on disabilities issues and the plight of the elderly.

“Herb is the patriarch of law as it concerns people with developmental disabilities,” says attorney S. Paul Prior, who has been with the Hinkle & Fingles firm for four years. Prior came to the law firm from the New Jersey Office of Protection and Advocacy, a federally funded legal resource for people with disabilities and the successor to the public advocate’s disabilities unit.

“In this area of law, Herb is respected, knowledgeable, experienced, and even a little feared,” says Prior, with a chuckle. “He has a strong reputation for helping people with disabilities. And, in one way or another, Herb has been connected with most if not all of the precedent-setting cases this area (of law) in New Jersey for the past couple of decades.”

Among those cases was the 1995 New Jersey Supreme Court decision to reject claims by the state Division of Developmental Disabilities that budgetary constraints forced it to place a young man in a service that would likely cause him to regress.

The court ruled that “B.F”—a 21-year-old man with autism—could not be transferred from an out-of-state autism center until an appropriate, adult placement became available (B.F. vs. New Jersey Division of Developmental Disabilities, 139 N.J. 522, 1995). In this important decision, the court placed the responsibility of obtaining an appropriate placement on the state agency, instead of the family of the person with a disability.

“The state Division of Development Disabilities always argued that economic woes prevented it from providing continued service to people with disabilities once they turn 21,” Prior says.

“The court ruled economic constraints will not relieve the division of its responsibility to a person with disabilities,” Prior says. “The decision means the state cannot just abandon these people. Herb’s work on the ‘BF’ case has prevented hundreds, if not thousands of people with disabilities from languishing at home after they reach age 21. Instead, they continue to receive much-needed service so they don’t regress.”

Prior called the 1995 decision “perhaps the single most important case” Hinkle has handled in his career. “It was a high-water mark for Herb.”

And he knows the case all too well. “Had that case been decided before 1989, things would have been very different for my brother David and my family.” Prior’s older brother, David, has autism.

“That was absolutely part of the driving force behind why I went into law and had a particularly interest in this area,” he says. In 1989, when Prior graduated from high school, his brother turned 21 years old. Prior said his family discovered the state would no longer help pay for an adult residential care program for his brother.

“My parents hired this attorney named Herbert D. Hinkle to help.” Prior recalls. “That was my first exposure to this area of the law and it absolutely stayed with me.”

For Hinkle, his work is not just about the practice of law.

It’s about improving conditions for the people with developmental disabilities, the elderly and their families. What is needed today—50 years after the state Law Against Discrimination was adopted—are more places to live for New Jersey’s aging adults with disabilities, says Hinkle.

“People with disabilities are living longer,” Hinkle says. “We are going to need sufficient adult services for them, especially group homes and supervised living situations. As children with disabilities grow up and grow older, there is a need for places for them to live when their parents or guardians are gone. Waiting lists are growing longer each year.”

Particularly at risk are persons with milder developmental disabilities, not the most severe cases, he notes. “People think the more disabled their child is, the more money they need to put away for their child’s care, when the opposite is true,” says Hinkle.

“Money is often available for the severely disabled, but it is not necessarily available for people with milder disabilities.”

Similar sentiments are echoed by Paul A. Potito, executive director of the New Jersey Center for Outreach and Services for the Autism Community (COSAC), a non-profit advocacy agency for New Jersey's autism community.

“In less than two generations, we are seeing people with autism and people with other kinds of developmental disabilities living longer, more normal life spans,” Potito says. “As a result families, private agencies and government services were not prepared for it and hadn’t planned for it. We must figure out how to provide longer-term services and how to fund those services.”

To that end, Hinkle—who for a decade has served on COSAC’s board of directors—helped the agency establish Autism-New Jersey, a charitable foundation that is exploring new fund-raising mechanisms, including corporate and private donations and inheritance from people in their wills. The foundation’s first donations came from Hinkle’s law firm and from the New Jersey Kiwanis, Potito says.

“I saw other organizations being very successful with their private fund-raising efforts and I saw disabilities organizations being somewhat less successful in finding those generous, caring people who I’m sure are out there,” Hinkle says. “Most of the time, it seems to be for a lack of asking.”

While Hinkle pointed out that organizations such as COSAC, for example, host events like golf fund-raisers to generate money, "we needed to improve our ability to ask for continued financial support . . .to ask for support in a larger way."

Potito, who has known Hinkle for almost twenty years, described him as “a man who cares very deeply on a professional and, more importantly, on a personal level.”

“He holds workshops and gives lectures on his own time,” Potito says. “People come expecting to see this prominent attorney in a suit and tie. Instead, they find this unassuming man who pulls off his tie, sits on the top of a desk and answers their questions in a homespun way. He is casual and knowledgeable. He puts them at ease. It makes them comfortable and you can see their anxieties vanish.”

“Herb gives of his time generously,” Prior agrees. “He’s been lecturing, holding workshops and educating families of developmentally disabled people for twenty years, all free-of-charge on his own time, evenings and weekends.”

“Herb believes it’s important for us to spread the word about what families need to do to help their son, daughter, brother or sister,” Prior says. “If anything, it generates fewer clients for us because it helps prevent problems and helps families avoid land mines.”

Among those education efforts, Hinkle’s firm recently joined with Arc of New Jersey to launch an outreach program — one that includes printed material, workshops and a website — to support the siblings of developmentally disabled people.

As parents or guardians grow older or die, brothers and sisters often become guardians for their disabled siblings. Hinkle said he believes this program is the first of its kind to recognize a need among adult siblings who must assume surrogate decision-making responsibilities. It gives them a primer in the New Jersey state service system, state and federal benefits programs and shows them how to plan for their siblings’ futures.

The same passion that Hinkle has for law, he also brings to other significant interests in his life: Classical music, Shakespeare, the New York Yankees, his black Labrador Retriever named "Mike," and his collection of "shrunken heads."

The most treasured item in his law office, Hinkle says, is his old Sony radio on his desk that he keeps tuned to WWFM, a classical radio station in Mercer County.

“He absolutely loves classical music,” says Prior, recalling Hinkle’s enthusiasm about attending a six-month lecture series on Johannes Brahms at the Westminster Choir College in Princeton. “He was telling us about these upcoming lectures on Brahms. We’re all thinking ‘how boring would that be,’ but Herb came back and thought they were just great . . . just absolutely fascinating.”

It’s the same with Hinkle’s love of Shakespeare.

Staff in his law office said Hinkle has keen interest Shakespeare, from whom he often quotes. “You’re trying to get some work done in your office and Herb shows up at the door,” Prior says. “Herb couldn’t find the ‘on button’ on his computer if his life depended on it. So, he asks you to go online and find a particular passage or quote from Shakespeare. Twenty minutes later, I’m thinking: ‘Okay, so which client do I bill this time to?’ “

Asked about the old Sony radio in Hinkle’s office, Prior’s initial reaction was: "What! Herb didn’t mention the shrunken heads?"

The so-called "shrunken heads" are actually part of Hinkle’s collection of ceramic Royal Doulton character figurines. "Herb’s got (figurines of) Shakespeare and Othello, the Mad Hatter and other characters from Alice in Wonderland all over his office. He’s got more at home,” Prior says.

“To break the ice with clients, Herb used to tell them that as a young attorney he kept the scales of justice on his desk. Now he’s got the Mad Hatter because it’s more appropriate to what we actually do,” Prior says.

Half-Baked Bigotry and Mr. Magoo
by Kathi Wolfe

During my childhood, I spent most Saturday mornings glued to the TV watching cartoons. Though I loved Yogi Bear, Bugs Bunny and Fred Flintstone, I cringed whenever Mr. Magoo came on the screen. I knew that near-sighted Mr. Magoo (with his glasses, clumsiness and incompetence) reminded the other kids of me (with my thick Coke-bottle glasses, klutziness and lack of coordination).

As soon as I, a visually impaired child who did not use a cane, walked outside to play, many of the non-disabled kids would have a field day. Some would imitate the way my eyes “rolled.” (Because I’m visually impaired, my eyes sometimes appear to wander and maintaining eye contact can be hard for me.) Others would imitate how I bumped into obstacles or held things very close to my face so I could see them. Luckily, I had friends who wanted me on their team....Magoo or no Magoo.

Like most of us, with and without disabilities, I grew up. I learned how to use a white cane, gained self-respect, and seldom thought of my youthful experience with Mr. Magoo—until I read an essay “The Blind Line Cook” by Gabrielle Hamilton, a food writer and the chef-owner of Prune, a restaurant in the East Village in New York. The piece appears in “Don’t Try this at Home: Culinary Catastrophes from the World’s Greatest Chefs” (Bloomsbury). The column originally appeared (under the title “Eat, Memory: Line of Sight”) in the Sunday New York Times magazine. Hamilton, in the first person column, recounts her experience of interviewing a man, who was blind and applying to be a line-cook at her bistro.

I am a foodie who hates to cook, but loves to read about cooking. Making meatloaf seems like rocket science, but reading the Trader Joes catalog is fun. This would be true even if I were fully sighted. My friends, who are blind or visually impaired and fabulous cooks, send condolence letters to my stove! Kidding aside, I love to hear them talk about cooking and to eat the wonderful foods that they prepare.

I thought Hamilton’s piece would be a short, interesting read. I’d just celebrated Thanksgiving at my friend Penny’s. Penny, who is blind, had prepared a feast – turkey, sweet potatoes, coleslaw, oysters, rolls, stuffing and pies. I was eager to learn about what it would be like to be blind and a line-cook.

Hamilton began the column by saying that she’d placed an ad in the paper for a line-cook. A man called her to say he was applying for the job. He had a degree in political philosophy, had worked for six years in the restaurant business, and had been a lunch chef at a restaurant in the Jersey shore, Hamilton said. The job applicant said nothing about being blind or visually impaired. She invited him to come in for an interview.

As I read the above information in Hamilton’s first paragraph, nothing seemed unusual; no red flags went off in my head. I guessed (from the title) that the line-cook wannabe might be blind or low-vision, but wasn’t prepared for what came next.

By the second paragraph of Hamilton’s piece, I was back in Magooland. “The first thing I noticed about him when he arrived was that he was blind. His eyes wandered around in their sockets like tropical fish in the aquarium of a cheap hotel lobby,” Hamilton wrote.

Not since my days on the playground, had I encountered (in such chilling honesty) the contempt and ignorance that many in our society have for those of us with low vision. If Hamilton had directed such prejudice toward any other group different from her, would Bloomsbury or the Times have published her piece?

I’m lesbian, so I’m going to put forth this hypothetical. I’m not encouraging disrespect toward any group, but what if the man Hamilton had invited for an interview and been gay. If she had written that the first thing she noticed about him as his “gayness.”

“His hips swished like a whirling dervish and he was more flaming than a crepe Suzette,” what would the reaction have been?

Many people, besides me, castigate Hamilton for her ridiculing tone. (See the American Foundation for the Blind’s web site at www.afb.org.) Yet, as the cliché says “it takes two to tango” and there were two people involved in the interaction: Hamilton and the man who applied to be a line-cook.

From reading Hamilton’s piece, it appears as if the job applicant is low vision. Hamilton says that the man peers very closely at the menu of her restaurant (so that he can see it). The gentleman doesn’t use a white cane or guide dog.

“He wrote his new phone number on the top of his resume in large unwieldy script and even managed, more or less, to locate and cross out the old number,” Hamilton writes. The job candidate goes through “the trial” (an audition in which Hamilton watches him to see if he can perform the duties of a line-cook). Our aspiring cook puts salt, not on the meat, but on the counter. He drops French Fries and takes the whole afternoon, Hamilton says, to cut parsley.

In case you haven’t already figured this out, he doesn’t say anything to Hamilton, his prospective employer, about being blind or visually impaired. Nor, does this job applicant request any accommodation.

If I’m setting the dinner table at a home where I’ve never been, I’m going to ask, as someone who is low vision, to be oriented to the kitchen. Yet, the man applying to work at Prune doesn’t ask Hamilton to show her where things are. He doesn’t explain how, with accommodation, he could be a line-cook. For instance, many people with low vision use chopping boards that are black on one side and white on the other side. On the black side, we can cut onions (which are white). On the white side, we can chop green peppers.

Because Hamilton’s essay is a first-person piece (not a news story), we don’t hear the job applicant’s side of the story. But, it appears that he either didn’t know how to conduct himself on a job interview (how to deal with his disability as a job applicant) or that he was trying to “pass” (to pretend to be fully sighted).

As I read Hamilton’s essay, I couldn’t understand why I kept thinking of Mr. Magoo. Until I realized: whether we like it or not, we who are low vision will appear to be like Mr. Magoo (bumbling and incompetent) if we try to pass—if we aren’t up-front about our disability. That means ‘coming out” about our disability, and saying what kind of accommodation we need. Especially when looking for a job.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not letting Hamilton off the hook. She doesn’t ask him any questions. Hamilton seems afraid to ask the job applicant whether he has a disability, and if so, how that might impact his functioning as a line-cook. Like many non-disabled people, she exhibits contradictory feelings toward people with disabilities. She wonders what the “politically correct” term is “nowadays” for blind people.

At first, Hamilton convinces herself that the job candidate, though blind, must “compensate” for his visually disability. She takes “a mental inventory of famous accomplished blind people.” But, Hamilton is disappointed to find, when the job applicant fails the audition for being a line-cook, that he is “just plain blind.”

Even though the Americans with Disabilities Act was passed in 1990, roughly 70 percent of Americans with disabilities are un-employed or under-employed. This isn’t the fault of the ADA. The ADA is a civil rights law, not a job creation bill, and the reasons why so many of us with disabilities have difficulty finding work are complex. Nevertheless, Hamilton’s essay points to two essential truths.

We who have disabilities will never join the workforce in significant numbers until we are forthright about who we are in the job application process. That means, though it is difficult, that we must ‘come out” about who we are; we must disclose our disabilities to our prospective employers and be clear about the accommodation we need.

To be sure, there is a risk to “coming out.” When you “come out,” you open yourself up to the possibility of prejudice, to the stigma that our society places around disability. But, isn’t it better to be oneself forthrightly and with pride, than to be perceived as Mr. Magoo? If you stop expending energy passing and ask for accommodation, you’ll be on a level playing field in the workplace. With that, you’re more likely to be viewed as competent, rather than as a circus freak or a “fish in a tropical aquarium in a cheap hotel.”

Prospective employers (and people without disabilities) must work to overcome their fear of not being politically correct, their shyness at asking questions. There is risk involved in asking people with disabilities about their impairments. In a job interview, a prospective employer needs (for legal reasons) to keep the questioning geared to how a job applicant’s disability impacts his or her functioning in the job. Some people don’t like being asked questions and you may hear different answers to the same question from different people. Still, without questions, we’ll never have the conversation that we need to have in this country about people with disabilities in the workplace.

“I wish I could invite Hamilton for dinner,” my friend Penny said, “I’d cook her a great meal!”

I’m inviting myself to that dinner party and I’d like the “blind line-cook” to join us. Then we could all talk. 

“Murderball”: Reel crips don’t hug
by Kathi Wolfe

(Caution: The movie reviewed here is not suitable for children. It is rated R for extreme profanity and sexual content. By necessity the review captures some of that edge and crudity. However, we feel it is an important film with some very important messages. And a (bleep) good documentary as well. Ed.)   

Like it or not, life is like high school. We give lip service to the brilliance of science whizzes and the sensitivity of class poets, but, in our hearts, we know: jocks rule. Most of us, whether nerds or class clowns, are not among the rulers. This is especially true for those of us with disabilities because we often aren’t thought to be cool enough to enter Jockland.

Except in “Murderball”, the critically acclaimed documentary about (male) wheelchair rugby players.

In this flick, crips are world-class jocks and they rule the universe. Even Martians have heard about this searing doc which chronicles the rivalry between the United States and Canada quad rugby teams from the 2002 World Championship in Sweden to the 2004 Paralympics in Athens. Henry Alex, the flick’s co-director and Mark Zupan, the star of team USA, have appeared on TV shows ranging from The Tonight Show with Jay Leno to Live with Regis and Kelly to The Charlie Rose Show.

Film at eleven! Unless you’ve been living in a cave, you know something’s wrong with this picture. Fifteen years after the Americans with Disabilities Act, crips still mainly are on screen in disease-of-the-week flicks. Where, played by non-disabled actors, we bumble helplessly through our sad, saintly, sexless lives--until we die. Unless we’re “super-heroes” (Daredevil), monstrous villains (The Hunchback of Notre Dame) or “dumb’ people with mental retardation (Something About Mary). Suddenly, among tear-jerkers, heart-warming local news stories (the blind skiing squirrel) and telethons (with their pathetic “special” kids), there’s Zupan in a Niki ad on a Times Square billboard.

I’d bet my Washington D.C. Nationals Baseball Cap, that no one dislikes sports more than me (except for baseball...which is poetry and peanuts, not stats and strikes to me). Murderball (invented in Canada in the 1970's), has, for this non-jock, the gentility of a demolition derby. “We take these wheelchairs and make them into a gladiator...a Mad Max wheelchair that can withstand knocking the living daylights out of each other,” one of the Team USA players says.

Quad rugby was called Murderball until players realized that corporations wouldn’t sponsor a sport using that name. It’s too bad the name was changed. Because these crips aren’t just playing to win: they’re playing to vanquish...to rule...to, you get the sense, kill, if they could.

Take Joe Soares. When Soares was kicked off the US team, he became coach of the Canadian team. His former teammates, furious at this defection, vowed to kick his butt. But, their fury surpassed that of most teammates scorned. “I wouldn’t (bleep) on him if he was on fire,” Zupan says of Soares.

Women, or “girls” as the crip jocks say, are part of the game. More like sports toys. Society thinks crips don’t have or can’t get sex. That’s not the case, the quad rugby players, tell us (and show us) in “Murderball”.

WE HAVE SEX ALL THE TIME! WHAT ELSE ARE GIRLS FOR?, “Murderball” practically screams. Cultural stereotypes depict crips as sweet, innocent Tiny Tims. This isn’t the case for the rugby quads. They are crude, hot dudes, who aren’t adverse to playing the crip card when it helps them score with women.

“Everyone’s like, what’s your approach? How do you work these women?” says one of the rugby players, “And, (bleep) it, I’m like, the more pitiful I am, the more the woman like me,” says one of the “Murderball” crips.

These crips want you to know they’re tough, competitive guys who don’t hug. They’re annoyed when people confuse the Paralympics with the Special Olympics. (Special Olympics are the international games for people with intellectual disabilities. The Paralympics is a world class competition for athletes with disabilities. It is part of the World Olympics.)

“We’re not going for a hug,” one of the crip athletes says of the Special Olympics, “we’re going for a (bleep)ing gold medal.”

He and his colleagues want you to know: they are not like the Special Olympians. So much for crip solidarity… for people with different disabilities playing well with others.

The “Murderball” guys see themselves as top dog crips... as heads of the crip hierarchy.

I’m not into crude dudes or crip hierarchies any more than I’m into sports. Yet, I found “Murderball” to be utterly compelling. Put simply: the flick rocks. Shot from the angle of someone sitting in a wheelchair, the 86-minute film, races by, holding your attention with its sports footage and its stories of the players’ lives and relationships (with friends, family members and girlfriends), without resorting to stereotypes or sentimentality.

Just as dramatic as the competition between the US and Canadian rugby team, is the film’s interweaving of narratives about the quad rugby players.

There is the story of how Zupan became a quad at age 18. He was drinking one night with his best buddy Chris Igoe and passed out in Igoe’s truck. Igoe didn’t know that Zupan was asleep in the truck, began driving (while drunk) and crashed into a tree. Zupan’s neck was broken. Falling into a canal, he held on to a tree branch. People rescued him 13 hours later.

“Murderball” shows how these guys, who have a hard time dealing with the emotional ramifications of the accident, come to terms with it—at a high school reunion of all places.

Zupan, one of his teammates says, was grumpy way before he was injured. “Just to see Mark with his goatees and tattoos is intimidating,” he says.

Joe Soares got polio when he was a child. Soares is a tough guy’s tough guy and he has little respect for his non-athletic son Robert until he (Soares) has a heart attack. One of the most moving narratives of “Murderball” is the story of how Soares changes as a father. It’s hard not to choke up when Soares applauds Robert when he plays the violin at his school. 

Another of the film’s dramatic threads is the story of Keith, who has just incurred a spinal cord injury and is going through rehabilitation. Crips will recognize their own rehab stories in these scenes. People without disabilities will learn something about rehab, as they watch Keith and others at the rehabilitation facility go through physical therapy, become depressed, and relearn everything from getting dressed to how to have sex. Even after he’s been through rehab, been introduced to wheelchair rugby and returned home, Keith still hits the wall of despair.

“It sucks,” Keith says, looking around his home, which his family has made accessible for him. What was once normal will never be the same, he thinks. Though many of us adapt and move on from there, most of us have hit that wall.

These stories humanize “Murderball”. They draw us to the quad rugby players by showing them to be human beings made of despair, joy, love (OK grumpiness), rather than merely what the New York Times called “Gladiators on Wheels.”

Given the vulnerability of many of us with disabilities (particularly in the aftermath of Katrina), it’s comforting to know that there are crips out there knocking the living daylights out of each other in their Mad Max chairs.

What a Difference Indeed: David and Linda Marina
by Jonathan Jaffe

Linda Marina admits it. She misses New Jersey. But she also knows that what prompted her and her son David to leave is still keeping them out.

While she misses the “in-your-face” assertiveness and the “can-do resilience” of its people, she doesn’t miss the pollution, the congestion and the cost of living. And she and her son David also embrace the open accessibility of their new home. The self-described “Jersey gypsy”—who lived in six New Jersey towns since David was born—finds herself at 50 years of age living about as far from the Garden State as she could get: Eugene, Oregon.

The journey, Linda says, has been about learning, change and growth.

Early in the journey an autism expert told Linda that David showed enormous potential to live independently.

“He told me I had to take charge because the educators were not going to be there at the finish line,” says Linda.

He also said that David’s IEP (Individualized Education Plan) had to be meaningful, with measurable goals. And it was important to stay ahead of David so that as he grew out of one phase there was somewhere to go. “I guess our gypsy genes helped us both keep moving,” Linda says.

When she reflects on that journey from town to town, Linda realizes she has a new perspective of New Jersey. She says her home state could vastly improve the quality of life for everyone there by better serving the needs of people with developmental disabilities.

“Some changes won’t be easy,” she acknowledges. “But even a few would be an improvement.”

Linda’s journey began when David was born.

A Georgetown University graduate, Linda worked for seven years as an accountant with AT&T and later with Banker’s Trust Co. She stopped working in 1984, a year after David was born, to care for her son.

“My son was developing, but I knew something wasn’t right,” she recalls. David was diagnosed at age 3 with what physicians called “Pervasive Developmental Disorder-Not Otherwise Specified,”—high functioning autism. 

“David didn’t have the same language or social skills as other children his age,” she says. “He didn’t interact the same way and his language processing wasn’t what it should have been. He could talk, but not really communicate.”

Since then, Linda has devoted herself to her son’s education.

She first brought David to a learning disabilities screening offered by their hometown of Westfield.

“The child study team wanted to classify David but the family wasn’t ready to deal with the whole idea,” says Linda.

David was first enrolled in a Scotch Plains pre-school, but it soon became apparent he wasn’t displaying the same behavior as other children and wasn’t interacting with them.

From there David went to a pre-school for children with disabilities in Westfield followed five-months later by a recommendation that he be sent out-of-district.

In 1987, David began attending the Douglass Developmental Disability Center in New Brunswick, a day school for autistic children affiliated with Rutgers University. With behavior modification, David began to learn social skills, to interact with others, and to improve his speech.

“Early intervention at Douglass’ Small Wonders Program made the difference in my son’s life and in mine,” says Linda. “David received the one-on-one teaching that he needed at the time and then, during his second year, appropriate peer models. And I received the teaching, support and guidance that I needed as a parent.”

She carried over what was done at school at home.

“It was a true partnership. At Douglass I saw firsthand the results of a meaningful IEP and solid parent-teacher relationship. I carried this experience with me throughout David’s schools years.”

After two years at Douglass, David moved on to the High Road School in East Brunswick where he attended classes with children with multiple disabilities. Meanwhile, his family moved from Westfield to West Windsor.

Linda says she insisted that educators at the High Road School focus their efforts on David’s social and language skills. She even wrote her own ten-page individual education plan (IEP) for David.

“I told them I didn’t care if David ever did calculus, but David had to be able to interact within our society,” she says. “My guiding principle was that I wanted David as independent as possible.”

The IEP she drafted for David reflected those goals, focusing his education on social and life skills, self-esteem, relationship building, hygiene, manners and speech.

During David’s three years at High Road, his parents separated. Linda and her son moved to Lawrence Township. A year after her divorce, she and David moved again to Point Pleasant. David switched schools and attended the Monmouth University School for Children in Long Branch.

His previous schools had emphasized behavior modification, but the School for Children relied less on it as an educational tool. “He was getting his academics, but again there was a lot of emphasis placed on social and life skills,” Linda says.

“David needed to be continuously challenged. I couldn’t just leave the driving up to the school district’s child-study team,” she says. “After David left Douglass, I was dealing with educators who didn’t always understand the needs of high functioning individuals with autism..”

Linda received assistance from the New Jersey Center for Outreach and Services for the Autism Community (COSAC), a non-profit advocacy agency for New Jersey's autism community.

“COSAC was invaluable,” she says. “They taught me about advocacy. They helped me find the right schools for David. When I ran into some issues with child study teams, COSAC was there with advice and guidance. It’s very frustrating to deal with the system. They were probably my best resource.”

Just before David’s bar mitzvah, he moved from the Monmouth School for Children to junior high in the Brick Township public schools. For several months, he was enrolled in the district’s program for educable-mentally retarded students (known as the EMR Program) before he was placed in a more general class.

About the time David was ready for high school, he and his mother moved to Shrewsbury and David went to Red Bank Regional High School in Little Silver.

“There were new challenges there for him and he succeeded,” says Linda. In addition to class David was in school theater production. Before graduation, Linda says, David landed his first job, working as a part-time stock clerk at Harmon's Discount Beauty Supply in Shrewsbury.

Later, he worked the register at the Red Bank Foodtown. “David didn’t grasp the concept of money or know how to count money until he was in his teens, so it was a big step for him to be working the register and making change,” she says. “He did great and so I wanted to give him more opportunities.”

After David graduated and following the events of Sept. 11, 2001, his mother says she and her son wanted to “try something different . . . new surroundings, a completely new environment.” So, she investigated new places to live and new opportunities for her and her son. The result of her search was a move to Oregon.

A city of 142,000 people, Eugene is perhaps most famous as the setting for National Lampoon’s feature film Animal House and as “Track Capital of the World.” It was in Eugene, jogging was first introduced to America by University of Oregon track coach Bill Bowerman. Bowerman later invented the waffle running shoe and, with university alumni Phil Knight, founded shoe giant Nike Inc.

In Eugene, David, who is now 22, has found a niche at Lane Community College where he is studying writing and computer science and has taken classes in art, music and floral design.

In 2002, David studied to take a college aptitude test. Upon passing it, he was admitted to a one-semester class at Lane that prepared him for the college’s entrance exam.

“I receive a lot of help from my college. More help than I may have gotten elsewhere,” David says. “I’m not sure that the tutoring help and the kind of support available at Lane are available at very many other community colleges. But they should be.”

Among the assistance David receives is free tutoring, extra academic help and counseling provided by the college through the federally-funded TriO Learning Center. The TriO program offers educational assistance to lower-income individuals, as well as those with disabilities.

Lane Community College also offered David several unpaid internships. Through the college, he worked at a research corporation this past summer transcribing interviews about global warming. The Oregon Division of Vocational Rehabilitation is funding the internship and paying for a job coach to assist him.

“I could eventually get a certificate from Lane in medical transcription,” David says, proudly. “Right now, I’m keeping an open mind about my options.” He also had previous internships working at a florist and at a community garden.

“The internships are helping me decide what I might want to do for a living,” David says. “I enjoyed working in the gardens and I like medical transcription. But I always keep an open mind about trying something else.”

Outside of the classroom, David has performed comedy skits at a college dinner theater with college classmates from his improvisational acting class.

An accomplished singer, he has taken voice lessons since age 15 and sang in theater productions at Red Bank Regional High School. Since moving to Oregon, he has given several solo recitals at an Episcopal church and several senior citizen apartment complexes. With the help of his voice coach, David also cut two compact discs. Now, he and his mother are both learning to play the piano.

“Our journey hasn’t always been easy. But, I’m watching my son be more and more independent,” Linda says. “After all the moves and changes, we found a place where we can both live full and independent lives. That’s made all the difference.”