Another Barrier Broken
For intellectually disabled kids, college has finally become an option.
WEB EXCLUSIVE
By Peg Tyre, Newsweek
Updated: 6:02 p.m. ET April 13, 2006

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April 13, 2006 - In many ways, Katie Apostolides, an education major at Becker College in Worcester, Mass., is a typical undergraduate. As a freshman, she found it hard to leave her family behind in Pennsylvania and get used to dorm life. Like other new students, she worried that she'd never find close friends. One class "medical terminology" was unexpectedly difficult, and she had to withdraw in order to preserve her grade-point average. Her second year, she says, "has been going better." She's used to dorm life now. She's made friends. The workload is still challenging, but these days, she says, "I take the initiative to go up to teacher and ask for help."

Apostolides's troubles may seem ordinary, but she is far from an average college sophomore. She has Down syndrome -a chromosomal abnormality characterized by mild to moderate mental retardation. Profiting from a 30-year movement to keep disabled kids in mainstream school settings, Apostolides, 22, earned a degree from a public high school in Pennsylvania and now, supported by her parents and her own unflagging enthusiasm, is working on a college degree. She's not the only mentally disabled person attending college these days. In 2001, there were 15 postsecondary programs for intellectually disabled students. In 2006, the number has swelled to 115. Next fall, two colleges in New Jersey - a community college and a four-year university - are launching pilot programs to offer a version of the college experience to such students.

Thirty years ago, mentally challenged kids were relegated to institutions, training programs and group homes. Regarded as unteachable, they were trained to do basic menial tasks instead getting instruction in reading and math. That began to change in the 1970s when activist parents backed by new federal laws began pressing local school districts to "mainstream" intellectually disabled children and provide more community-based resources for them. At the same time, education specialists determined that many cognitively impaired children could learn more - provided they received early, intensive intervention. School districts began devising programs that mixed kids with disabilities into regular schools and sometimes, regular classrooms. "There was a massive shift in this country to supply more inclusion programs for intellectually disabled kids," says Debra Hart, coordinator for education and transition for the Institute for Community Inclusion at the University of Massachusetts.

Mainstreaming intellectually disabled kids paid off. Today, says Madeleine Will, vice president of public policy for National Down Syndrome Society, kids with intellectual impairments are "functioning better in the world of school, in the home and in the workplace." Parents who have spent the last 20 years creating educational opportunities for their disabled children say college is the next frontier. Steve Riggio, the CEO of Barnes & Noble, who is underwriting the two new programs in New Jersey, says he hopes his own intellectually disabled daughter, Melissa, now a high-school junior, will benefit. Without well-constructed postsecondary programs, he says, after graduation, "she is facing a life without the opportunities that typical kids receive."

The goal of many of the programs is to help the children develop the skills they need to live more independently - and that means getting and keeping a job. About 70 percent of intellectually disabled people are unemployed. Lindsey Foley, 20, an intellectually disabled woman from Worcester, Mass., hopes that auditing a computer course at Quinsigamond Community College near her home will help her keep her job at the local YMCA. "I need to learn about computers to get better," she says. Because she can't read or write independently, Foley attends class with a tutor. She uses special software that "reads" textbooks and the Internet. When it is time to take a test, she goes to the learning center where a 'scribe' reads the test questions aloud and records her answers. So far, her mother, Robin, points out, Lindsey has not failed a test. "Ha!" Lindsey adds with pride. Next year, she says, she hopes to take classes in English and sign language.

Not every college program offers the same level of inclusion and classroom support. Some colleges run life-skills courses on campus but keep intellectually disabled kids away from their mainstream curriculum. Others offer a hybrid, allowing the students to audit regular classes and supplement their course load with skill-building seminars such as cooking and human relationships. Other colleges allow them to matriculate. When Mercer Community College in New Jersey opens its new program this fall, intellectually disabled students will take some regular classes - working toward a vocational certificate - but they'll also get a special program of motivational speakers and seminars in classroom etiquette and time management. What if intellectually disabled students can't cut it? "There are plenty of students without special needs who have to take a class repeatedly before they master the material," says Mercer administrator Sue Onaitis, who is coordinating the program for intellectually disabled students. "We believe that it's OK for all of our students to try and fail. There's a kind of dignity there."

These programs aren't cheap. Tuition for intellectually disabled kids is usually the same or more than the tuition for regular learners. In some states, local school districts will help defray the costs. If they don't, parents have to dig deep since intellectually disabled students usually can't obtain financial aid. Parents may be getting some help soon. Last month, an amendment to the Higher Education Bill was introduced in the House that would provide federal work-study funds for intellectually disabled students who attend college.

John Russo says he'd welcome all the help his son could get. John, 18, has a cognitive disorder that has kept him out of public schools. Though he reads at the fourth-grade level, he's like other teenagers in many ways - he plays in a band, has shown a flair for design and is dreaming of the day when he can get a driver's license. Russo believes that postsecondary education will help his son make the crucial leap to the working world. Given the right opportunity, he says, his son had the patience and determination to succeed. "It's not like he's never had an obstacle thrown at him," he says. Overcoming obstacles, he says, is the story of his life.

© 2006 MSNBC.com

Opening Doors to Higher Education
TCNJ to Develop Programs for Intellectually Disabled

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Members of the School of Education at The College of New Jersey recently announced the receipt of nearly $50,000 in grant funding from the National Down Syndrome Society, which will allow the creation, in conjunction with Mercer County Community College, of a postsecondary education experience for students with Down syndrome and other intellectual disabilities.

The College's team of grant investigators consists of professors Rick Blumberg, Rebecca Daley, and Jerry Petroff, with support from William Behre, dean of the School of Education.

The National Down Syndrome Society's (NDSS) Transition and Postsecondary Education Model Program for People with Intellectual Disabilities is generously funded by Steve and Laura Riggio of Bernardsville, whose daughter Melissa is 17 years old and has Down syndrome. Mr. Riggio is CEO of Barnes & Noble, Inc.

"With the documented success of inclusion in elementary and secondary education, it is now time to advance into the frontier of postsecondary education," said Mr. Riggio, who also serves on the NDSS Board of Directors. "Both of the institutions selected to receive grants embrace our belief that people with intellectual disabilities deserve the opportunity to enrich their lives through higher education."

Multiple research studies have shown that postsecondary education has a positive impact on employment and wages, social networks and self-determination skills in adults with intellectual disabilities. The program in New Jersey will develop best practices that can be replicated on college campuses across the country. NDSS is also working to make the program affordable by exploring available funding sources and advocating for federal financial aid to be available for these students.

"With the documented success of inclusion in elementary and secondary education, it is now time to advance into the frontier of postsecondary education..."
"We are very pleased to be part of this partnership with Mercer County Community College in developing a model program for helping enhance the academic and social skills of individuals with Down syndrome and other intellectual disabilities," said R. Barbara Gitenstein, president of The College of New Jersey.

Both TCNJ and Mercer County Community College will be developing programs during the 2005-2006 school year. If the institutions meet all requirements during the planning year, additional funds will be available for the first and second operational years. The first class of students is expected to begin the program in fall 2006.

The grant is largely in its planning phase now, including the development of criteria for student selection, but grant investigators anticipate that the program will support 12-15 students. Preliminary program ideas include a student mentorship component, and the possibility of auditing courses. Although the College will not grant degrees, student learning will be evaluated and a certificate of completion or other form of recognition will be awarded to those who complete the program.

Beyond Compliance: An Information Package on the Inclusion of People with Disabilities in Postsecondary Education

The Consortium for Students With Intellectual Disabilities

Campus Life and the Development of Postsecondary Deaf and Hard of Hearing Students
PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICES

Meeting America's Needs

A fairy-tale evening
Parents and friends of special-education students at Maize High help create memories of a lifetime for 10 teenagersBY KAREN SHIDELER, The Wichita Eagle

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Justin, Josh, Chris, Carter and Laren:

Five handsome young men, in tuxes and shiny black shoes.

Kara, Stephanie, Suzy, Anissa and Lindsay:

Five beautiful young women, in shimmering dresses.

Ten teens, ready for prom. Ready to make memories that last a lifetime.

And 10 sets of proud parents watching.

Most of them had never expected to see their children, all in special-education classes, be part of prom night.

Last Saturday night, the 10 -- all juniors and seniors at Maize High School -- were.

They went as a group, with the same trappings that hundreds of other Wichita-area students are embracing this prom season: special cars, formal clothes, an elegant dinner, flowers, dancing and pictures. Lots of pictures.

This is how it happened:

Adults who had agreed to be chaperones for the evening -- who wants their parents at the prom? --went to the students' homes to pick them up because these students don't drive.

Two Chrysler 300s -- one white, one midnight blue -- delivered them to Laren Kilgore's home in northwest Wichita, where a red Dodge Charger (with a Hemi engine) waited as the third magic coach.

At a restaurant, the teens might not get the time or attention they need. So they had been invited to a dinner hosted by Laren's parents, Joanna and Leonal Kilgore.

First came pictures. Lots of pictures.

Parents helping with dinner took pictures. The teens took pictures of each other. Pat Leon, mother of a younger special-education student, took the "official" pictures. Friendship Club members took pictures.

"There were so many of the parents who said they just didn't think their kids would have this experience," said Val Wall, who teaches special education at Maize High and is the adviser for Friendship Club.

The club, a popular school organization, was a big part of this night. Friendship Club pairs each special-education student with two or three "buddies" who help with homework, self-esteem and social skills, usually at school functions. The buddies do such a good job that everyone at Maize seems to know the special-education students.

Pictures taken, the 10 teens were ushered into the Kilgores' dining room. White candles flickered atop a burgundy runner and white and gold tablecloth. Gold napkins were tied in burgundy and gold.

"You can just take that off," Leonal Kilgore said, helping the students undo the napkin rings.

"Here comes the salad," announced Justin Noland, a senior.

Josh Bartlett, also a senior, advised, "Use the smaller fork. Outside in."

"Get out of here, Pat," Laren said as Leon tried to take another picture.

In the kitchen, parents cut chicken and steak into pieces, and added twice-baked potatoes and vegetables to plates.

"We operate like a restaurant," Leon said. "We just don't have the quiet part down."

The din did in Kara Tully, a junior. She came down with a case of jitters that forced her from the table.

"She was nervous at 11:30, getting her makeup done," her mother, Scarlett Tully, said. Kara had seemed to settle down in the afternoon, but the jitters came back as she dressed, and now they were overwhelming. She stood in the entryway as the others finished eating.

Nothing was spilled. As with any group, dressing up seems to bring out the best behavior.

The doorbell rang.

The rest of the parents arrived, to pin white rose boutonnieres on their sons, to put white rose wrist corsages on their daughters. Everyone moved to the front yard for...

More pictures.

"This is so humidity," Laren said, meaning "humiliating," as parents asked this person, then that one, to stand next to the cars, by the tree, with the others.

And then it was time for the parents to let go.

"It's so easy to be overprotective" of a special-needs child, said Randy Ward, Stephanie's dad.

The teens got in the cars, off to the Cotillion.

The parents got there first. They joined all the other parents already there, ready to snap -- you guessed it -- more pictures, as sons and daughters arrived to walk the red carpet to the entrance.

"Wooooo," a student hollered as Josh walked in, wearing his sunglasses despite the darkness.

With their chaperones, the 10 found a table. And sat for maybe a minute.

A girl hugged Chris Gibson as he joined Kara, Justin, Anissa Alonzo and Lindsay Meyer on the dance floor to "slide to the left, slide to the right, reverse, reverse" to the "Cha Cha Slide."

Laren, who had declared he didn't dance, got asked twice. No, he repeated. "I don't dance."

Krysten Day walked up: "Laren, come dance with me." She grabbed his hand and didn't take no for an answer. And she didn't let him get away when the song ended.

When midnight came, the fairy tale didn't end.

The teens got back in the red, white and blue cars for the trip to Maize High. The after-prom party went until 4 a.m.
Reach Karen Shideler at (316) 268-6674 or kshideler@wichitaeagle.com.