Young Offenders Are Able to Help : County Wards Working With Disabled Children See What Real Misfortune Is, Learn Joy of Giving

Sixteen-year-old Israel was in some pretty tough situations back when he was a gang member, but they didn’t compare to the daunting task before him now.

He was trying to get a little girl, who was strapped to a walker designed to keep her perpetually prone body erect, to take small steps around a school’s playground. At first, the disabled child paid him no mind, her head slumping on the walker’s tray, her body sagging heavily.

But Israel pressed the little girl on, one hand tugging her and the other lifting her chin as he coaxed softly: “Come on, Lizzie, you can do it. Do it for me, just move your feet, just a little.”

Guided by Israel’s gentle urging, Lizzie dragged her limp feet only two steps before she dropped her head again. But that was enough to bring a brilliant smile to the teen-ager’s scar-marked face. “Did you see that?” he asked. “I’ve never helped somebody in my whole life. Here, I’m helping little kids who need me.”

Israel, who was convicted of grand theft auto, is one of five Joplin Youth Center wards who are participating in an innovative program called Project MOVE--Mobility Opportunities Via Education--at the South County Special Center at Philip J. Reilly Elementary School.

MOVE is run by the county Department of Education and helps severely handicapped children develop their physical mobility through the use of specially designed equipment operated by physical therapists.

The youth center wards, who were sent to Joplin for convictions of crimes such as grand theft and aggravated assault, had to pass a vigorous screening to qualify for participation. Each Joplin boy is trained by the therapists before he joins the program.

Twice a week for three months a semester, five Joplin youths come on campus to work one on one with Reilly’s 11 most severely disabled children, whose ages range from 3 to 5. There, they spend the whole school day with the children, playing with them, feeding them and teaching them how to use their hands and how to walk.

More valuable than the 15 high school credit hours they earn through their participation, these boys learn perhaps for the first time in their mostly troubled lives what it means to be hopelessly disadvantaged and truly helpless.

“I thought I had problems when I was first sent to Juvenile Hall,” said Alex, a 14-year-old who was convicted of attacking another boy with a knife two years ago. “But coming here, meeting these kids, makes me think about how lucky I am for being almost perfect--you know, having a gift of voice and sight and movement.”

Unlike most of his peers who participate in MOVE, Alex is an honor student and a first-time offender. He vows to not re-enter the revolving door of criminality and incarceration and said he wants to eventually become a doctor and work with disabled children.

“I think--I hope--I accomplish something here, at least a little bit,” Alex said, as he finger-fed a butter biscuit to little Kara, who has cerebral palsy and is visually impaired. Spittle and unswallowed cookie goo bubbled out of her mouth, and the boy gently wiped them from her chin and bib with a damp towel.

He added: “I think I’ve done something good whenever I see them smile or hear them laugh.”

The boys’ participation helps the special education program at Reilly by giving the school five more able bodies to help with the arduous task of working with disabled children. But more than that, it helps the Joplin youths because their work gives them self-esteem and the gratifying feeling of being needed, they said.

“These kids taught me a lot of stuff my gang home boys didn’t,” said Israel, as he straightened little Lizzie’s curled-up hands that were resting on the walker’s tray.

“They taught me about how to like myself for caring about other people,” he added as he smoothed back Lizzie’s ponytail, unknowingly showing off his moniker “Chino” which was tattooed on his left wrist. “It makes me happy to know that I’m helping somebody who needs me to be there.”

Officials at the school and county Education Department praised the boys’ efforts and said most parents of the disabled children also appreciate their work, despite their criminal background.

“These kids come in pressed, spit, polished and shined and ready to work,” said Dennis Roberson, administrator in charge of the county’s special schools. “I can’t say that we haven’t had concerns, but I can say that they have never materialized and that these boys perform outstanding work for our kids.”

Fifteen-year-old Robert, who was convicted of grand theft auto, said he applied for Project MOVE so he could get away from the bleak environment at the Joplin center.

“I never thought I could be like this--feeling happy when I work with the kids,” Robert said, as he carefully pushed Augie’s walker around the playground. “They smile at you, and sometimes they laugh when you play with them. No one can ever guess how I feel when that happens.”

Most of the boys who participate in Project MOVE said the program has given them incentives to want to finish school and eventually go into some form of physical training work with children.

“I’m not glad I got sent to Joplin center, but if I never got into trouble, I would never meet these kids. I would never have goals for my life,” said Israel as he carried Lizzie across the playground and into a classroom. “Now, I stop to think about all the stuff I’ve done (with the children) and things I can do. I got something to look forward to.”