Glimpses of Hope : Disabled Grads’ Parents Get a Look at Valley Adult Programs

Miguel and Gloria Macias’ daughter Kelly is about to graduate from high school. For most parents, that conjures up happy emotions, from pride and relief that their children made it this far to worry over the job or college in their future.

But the Macias family has watched 21-year-old Kelly, who has Down’s syndrome, board a Los Angeles Unified School District bus headed for special education schools most of her life. For them and other parents in their situation, their happiness is clouded by a big question: How will their children’s unique needs be met once they leave the shelter of the district’s special schools?

“We feel so helpless sometimes,” said Gloria Macias, contemplating her daughter’s impending graduation with eyes that reflect years of worry.

“We don’t know what lies ahead in the future for our child.”

Along with 13 other parents of mentally and physically disabled students preparing to graduate from Reseda’s Diane S. Leichman and Joaquin Miller high schools on June 29, Miguel and Gloria Macias made efforts recently to investigate that future.

Riding all day in a bouncing yellow bus similar to the ones that picked up their children for so many years, the group toured Valley facilities for disabled adults, a luxury made available by the LAUSD just this year.

During the excursion, the parents visited programs based in Woodland Hills, Sunland, Van Nuys and Tarzana, all working to enable disabled adults to lead active lives.

Each time the parents’ group reached a new site, they appeared surprised to discover the level of sophistication offered by the housing facilities, job-training workshops and classes in everyday skills.

“All this is new to us,” said Luis Gonzalez, watching disabled workers assemble plastic toys at the Joanne & H. E. Baher Center in Woodland Hills. “This place is nice. But our son, Daniel, is autistic. He requires much more attention than these people can provide.”

“Our problem is more complex,” his wife, Olga, agreed.

Still, Gloria Macias said, “At least now we know what our options are. We had no idea where to turn before today. This tour should have happened two years ago. We’d have a better picture of what is out there.”

Like most parents of the more than 62,500 special education students enrolled in LAUSD schools, Macias and the others relied primarily on a state and federally funded regional center for advice on out-of-school care during most of their children’s lives.

*

Swamped by the number of cases reaching their desks annually, however, regional center counselors had little time to fully inform these families of options available after high school, said George Stevens, associate director of the North Los Angeles County Regional Center.

“We have 7400 [cases] of all ages in north L. A. County,” said Stevens, whose center serves families in the San Fernando, Antelope and Santa Clarita valleys. “Unless we hear directly from parents, we aren’t going to know who they are.”

As a result, parents and guardians unfamiliar with the process for enrolling their soon-to-be graduates in facilities for disabled adults feared that their children would reach adulthood confined to the family home.

This still would have been the case for Leichman and Miller high school families had it not been for Marilyn Gruen, a school district counselor appointed to work with students at both schools last year.

Gruen, who has a 21-year-old daughter with multiple physical and mental disabilities, was appalled to find out that most parents had no idea what to do with their children once they left high school. Some parents, she said, had grown apathetic.

“I talked to parents who were surprised that we were now asking them to be involved in helping their children make the transition into adulthood,” she said. “This is a particularly sensitive time for these people and not enough efforts are being made to help them.

“Some feel they are the only ones capable of taking care of their children,” she added. “They don’t know where else to turn.”

To show them other options, Gruen put together the tour. In addition to the Baher Center, the excursion included trips to the Tierra Del Sol Foundation in Sunland, The Adult Skills Center (TASC) in Van Nuys and a Tarzana independent living program operated by a West Los Angeles organization called Life Management.

Programs featured at each facility include field trips, personal hygiene lessons, money management classes and vocational training.

The parents questioned the operators.

“If this place is wheelchair accessible, why are there steps here?” Miguel Macias asked Laurie Wooten, the Tierra Del Sol program director.

“Some of our hallways are not wheelchair accessible,” Wooten responded. “But we have other entrances to the same rooms.”

Staring pensively ahead, the parents seldom cracked a smile during the tour. Only when confronted by young adults such as their own children did their expressions brighten.

“You want to see what I drew?” asked Judy, a student in an arts and crafts class at Tierra Del Sol.

“Oh, I love mountains,” Miguel Macias said. “That’s pretty.”

“Thank you,” Judy beamed.

The parents often appeared inspired by the progress of people such as their own children.

Most encouraging was a visit to the home of Judy Binder, 34, who is in Life Management’s independent living program.

Binder, who has epilepsy, has been living alone for two years, aided only by weekly visits from a Life Management counselor who helps her with money management and diet planning.

“I’ve taken a few college classes and am looking for a job right now,” Binder told the group, who crowded into her one-bedroom condominium. “I wasn’t at that point when I first came into the program. What I like best is having a place of my own. It feels really great.”

*

Moved by their tour, the parents lamented that they weren’t informed about such programs earlier.

“I’m concerned about waiting lists,” said Christina Destajo, who helps care for three soon-to-be graduates of Miller High. “I’ve heard some places have lists two years long. I don’t want to wait.”

But, with the uncertainties of the economy, Paul Elkins wondered if information was enough.

Although his daughter Amy is not scheduled to graduate from Miller High until 1997, Elkins went on the tour to gauge the future.

“It’s great to see that these programs exist,” he said. “But, I’m fearful that some of them won’t even be around in two years. Every one of them indicated a need for resources.

“It worries me, because we can’t just keep our children home,” Elkins added. “How many years do we have left to live?”