Michelle
12-10-2006, 11:14 PM
Hawthorne school for autistic children to expand (http://www.thejournalnews.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20061208/NEWS02/612080374/1024/NEWS08)
By PETER O'DOWD
FOR THE JOURNAL NEWS
Some students at Hawthorne Country Day School, which serves children with varying degrees of autism, have the opportunity to stay in Westchester County when they become adults. Eighteen men and women, all of whom struggle on different levels with language and relationships, live under the care of Hawthorne staff in three homes within miles of the school's 10-acre campus.
They are fortunate.
Two decades ago, the national Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reported that autism was diagnosed in approximately 1 in 10,000 children. Now the CDC estimates that 1 in 166 children are afflicted by the disorder, which impairs a person's ability to communicate and relate to others.
Some autistic children are held hostage by repetitive behaviors. Instead of playing with toy cars like a healthy child would, a boy with autism might obsessively arrange the objects in a row. People with severe autism appear shut off from the outside world.
It has been called the fastest-growing developmental disability in the United States. Between 1994 and 2003, the number of children classified as autistic in U.S. public schools increased sixfold, the government reports.
Adult facilities in the New York area won't have enough resources to meet demand, experts say.
"That is an area that's really being looked at because there are very few facilities for the young adult," said Dr. Cecilia McCarton, who runs a private school for autistic children in Manhattan. "There aren't that many, and there aren't that many of quality. Even though we have been crying that there is an epidemic out there, it's only recently that the media and the federal government have been verifying what we've been saying."
The real problem that has to be faced soon, McCarton said, centers on a population of young adults who leave the public school system between 18 and 21.
"You're talking about day programs for individuals, so they can learn vocational skills. You're also talking about residences for these young adults," McCarton said. "Just like we are facing this epidemic now in schools, and we are bursting at the seams, these children are going to get older, and pretty soon the over-21 population is going to start bursting at the seams, and there are no facilities for these people."
Eileen Bisordi, executive director of the Hawthorne Foundation, has worked most of her life to provide the services McCarton is talking about, and she agrees more has to be done. At the urging of its board, the school will begin to further develop its adult residential program, she says. But Bisordi's staff has been so busy dealing with the surging demand to place school-age children, she says, that plans for adult care have taken a back seat for half a decade.
Last year, the families of 280 would-be students sought seats at Hawthorne. No more than 10 were accepted. Today, children board buses to make the trek to this picturesque Westchester campus every morning from 36 school districts throughout the Hudson Valley and New York City. The rising demand has prompted plans to double enrollment at the school's Manhattan campus. And already a quarter into this school year, 100 children are waiting to get into classrooms without a single opening.
"What happens when those kids get to be 21? Where are all these homes coming from? Do you know how hard it is to get a home in a community?" Bisordi said.
Hawthorne is planning a major expansion. Its campus renovations and construction will create facilities needed for school programs. Bisordi also envisions purchasing more homes in neighboring communities, reducing the number of adults in each house to three or fewer. The purchases would help increase school revenue and the small numbers in each house would allow her to establish group homes in the area without permission from the city, she says.
Hawthorne group homes cater to different levels of the disorder. At the split-level house in Ossining, where those who function highly live with an assistant, common spaces and bedrooms are immaculately kept. Plates of bagels and fruit bowls line the kitchen table. The back porch opens onto an expansive lawn.
All six residents work at various jobs, earning wages and participating in their community. Tom Casey, 52, works in recycling in Mount Kisco. In addition to working, David Suss, also 52, dreams of writing a book. He keeps a journal, recording daydreams about life's next step, his job and his past of being misunderstood. By most accounts, the Hawthorne homes feel more like home than anything else.
"They look out for each other," said Nancy Lucadamo, the house manager in Ossining. "They're friends. They're family."
For Bisordi, this integration is the key to preparing the future generation of autistic children moving into adulthood. As the cases of autism increase, educators stress the importance of early intervention, and speech and occupational therapies. As they get older, helping children with simple life skills such as money management and vocational training makes the change smoother.
For those who won't become independent adults, group living becomes an attractive option. But Bisordi and parents say that letting their disabled child out of their home after so many years of attention and care can be the hardest part of the transition.
Jackie Ceonzo, a member of Hawthorne's board and the parent of an autistic boy who's nearing adolescence, said letting go means giving her son the closest thing to a normal life as possible. She compares the significance of the move to sending a typical child off to college. Ceonzo said the realization comes slowly.
"By the time your kid is 2, you know something is up," she said. "From 2 to 4, you're in a coma. And from 4 to 7 you're trying to fix them. At 7 and 8 you're starting to figure out that it isn't happening. Then all of a sudden, they get big, and then ... this world doesn't frighten me as much as it once did."
The couple's life revolves around caring for their 11-year-old son, Joey. They've tapped into their home's equity to support a recreational center they run for autistic children in Manhattan, Ceonzo said. Still, when childhood comes to an end, Ceonzo wants Joey to live amid the quiet neighborhoods near Hawthorne. "I want him out to be independent," she said. "To have a life."
By PETER O'DOWD
FOR THE JOURNAL NEWS
Some students at Hawthorne Country Day School, which serves children with varying degrees of autism, have the opportunity to stay in Westchester County when they become adults. Eighteen men and women, all of whom struggle on different levels with language and relationships, live under the care of Hawthorne staff in three homes within miles of the school's 10-acre campus.
They are fortunate.
Two decades ago, the national Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reported that autism was diagnosed in approximately 1 in 10,000 children. Now the CDC estimates that 1 in 166 children are afflicted by the disorder, which impairs a person's ability to communicate and relate to others.
Some autistic children are held hostage by repetitive behaviors. Instead of playing with toy cars like a healthy child would, a boy with autism might obsessively arrange the objects in a row. People with severe autism appear shut off from the outside world.
It has been called the fastest-growing developmental disability in the United States. Between 1994 and 2003, the number of children classified as autistic in U.S. public schools increased sixfold, the government reports.
Adult facilities in the New York area won't have enough resources to meet demand, experts say.
"That is an area that's really being looked at because there are very few facilities for the young adult," said Dr. Cecilia McCarton, who runs a private school for autistic children in Manhattan. "There aren't that many, and there aren't that many of quality. Even though we have been crying that there is an epidemic out there, it's only recently that the media and the federal government have been verifying what we've been saying."
The real problem that has to be faced soon, McCarton said, centers on a population of young adults who leave the public school system between 18 and 21.
"You're talking about day programs for individuals, so they can learn vocational skills. You're also talking about residences for these young adults," McCarton said. "Just like we are facing this epidemic now in schools, and we are bursting at the seams, these children are going to get older, and pretty soon the over-21 population is going to start bursting at the seams, and there are no facilities for these people."
Eileen Bisordi, executive director of the Hawthorne Foundation, has worked most of her life to provide the services McCarton is talking about, and she agrees more has to be done. At the urging of its board, the school will begin to further develop its adult residential program, she says. But Bisordi's staff has been so busy dealing with the surging demand to place school-age children, she says, that plans for adult care have taken a back seat for half a decade.
Last year, the families of 280 would-be students sought seats at Hawthorne. No more than 10 were accepted. Today, children board buses to make the trek to this picturesque Westchester campus every morning from 36 school districts throughout the Hudson Valley and New York City. The rising demand has prompted plans to double enrollment at the school's Manhattan campus. And already a quarter into this school year, 100 children are waiting to get into classrooms without a single opening.
"What happens when those kids get to be 21? Where are all these homes coming from? Do you know how hard it is to get a home in a community?" Bisordi said.
Hawthorne is planning a major expansion. Its campus renovations and construction will create facilities needed for school programs. Bisordi also envisions purchasing more homes in neighboring communities, reducing the number of adults in each house to three or fewer. The purchases would help increase school revenue and the small numbers in each house would allow her to establish group homes in the area without permission from the city, she says.
Hawthorne group homes cater to different levels of the disorder. At the split-level house in Ossining, where those who function highly live with an assistant, common spaces and bedrooms are immaculately kept. Plates of bagels and fruit bowls line the kitchen table. The back porch opens onto an expansive lawn.
All six residents work at various jobs, earning wages and participating in their community. Tom Casey, 52, works in recycling in Mount Kisco. In addition to working, David Suss, also 52, dreams of writing a book. He keeps a journal, recording daydreams about life's next step, his job and his past of being misunderstood. By most accounts, the Hawthorne homes feel more like home than anything else.
"They look out for each other," said Nancy Lucadamo, the house manager in Ossining. "They're friends. They're family."
For Bisordi, this integration is the key to preparing the future generation of autistic children moving into adulthood. As the cases of autism increase, educators stress the importance of early intervention, and speech and occupational therapies. As they get older, helping children with simple life skills such as money management and vocational training makes the change smoother.
For those who won't become independent adults, group living becomes an attractive option. But Bisordi and parents say that letting their disabled child out of their home after so many years of attention and care can be the hardest part of the transition.
Jackie Ceonzo, a member of Hawthorne's board and the parent of an autistic boy who's nearing adolescence, said letting go means giving her son the closest thing to a normal life as possible. She compares the significance of the move to sending a typical child off to college. Ceonzo said the realization comes slowly.
"By the time your kid is 2, you know something is up," she said. "From 2 to 4, you're in a coma. And from 4 to 7 you're trying to fix them. At 7 and 8 you're starting to figure out that it isn't happening. Then all of a sudden, they get big, and then ... this world doesn't frighten me as much as it once did."
The couple's life revolves around caring for their 11-year-old son, Joey. They've tapped into their home's equity to support a recreational center they run for autistic children in Manhattan, Ceonzo said. Still, when childhood comes to an end, Ceonzo wants Joey to live amid the quiet neighborhoods near Hawthorne. "I want him out to be independent," she said. "To have a life."