O P I N I O N
THE SOAPBOX
Stand up. Speak up. It’s your turn.
This is in response to the recent Ink Link article “It Was Horrifying: Chester Family’s Scare Highlights Gap in NH’s Group Home System.” The article detailed a significantly developmentally-disabled man recently and unfortunately wandering from his Chester home and unexpectedly entering the home of a neighbor.
Everybody, every family, has the right to feel safe in both their own home and at all places in their community. The incident was understandably scary for the compromised family. “Corey’s” home should have been secure for everyone’s safety. Corey’s Community Options staff made preventable mistakes, though criticism is easy and obtaining acknowledgement for the positive actions of caretakers is difficult. No one ever congratulates a weatherperson for a great forecast.
At the end of a long human services career I am working with a high-functioning autistic co-worker at an area store. As with most folks on the Asperger’s/autism spectrum, or citizens struggling with severe mental health injuries, people such as my co-worker “Michael” have impressive windows of intelligence. Michael called me recently asking if we should display books written by Gore Vidal. I’m guessing most Americans have no idea who Gore Vidal is. Michael reads three books a week with William Styron’s Sophie’s Choice and E.L. Doctorow’s Ragtime recent reads. He has aspirations to be a writer and “a phenomenon,” something I tell him he already is. He also has a desire to build a time machine so that he can go back in time, in part to prevent himself from being born autistic. He’s written an impressive pages-long modern-day version of Hamlet set in the White House.
Michael has deficits. He perseverates and often walks away when I am talking with him. I was away for four days recently and he told me he was “stressed out” while I was gone at least a dozen times the day I returned. He has his own apartment but has challenges with getting to bed at a reasonable hour and a fondness for all species of chips.
I approach full retirement after a long career in human services that began in 1975 during my senior year at UConn. I volunteered one night a week at the now-closed Mansfield Training School, a short bus ride with two dozen other students from campus. I spent time with Daniel, a “trainable” developmentally-disabled man in the limited parlance of the time, distinguishing him from an “educable.” Daniel liked to go bowling or play with toy fire trucks. Fifty years later the smell of the institution is still with me. The place was filled with an air that had been breathed too long, with tile floors that had been scrubbed and mopped and scrubbed again. Disinfected against a century full of the reek of vomit and other bodily functions. No carpets. I never sat in a chair or on the floor.
Like New Hampshire’s now-closed Laconia State School, Mansfield had the perfect brick construction for what Laconia became, a medium-security prison. Institutions such as Laconia and Mansfield followed a medical model for decades, especially during the time of America’s eugenics movement, an inspiration to the Nazis. Permanently excluded American citizens were judged sick, a danger to society and were presided over by doctors and nurses. Canine teeth were extracted. Forced sterilizations happened. Lobotomies were not unusual. Think of Rosemary Kennedy, awake during her assembly-line lobotomy.
Gordon DuBois, who spent 40 years working with and advocating for New Hampshire and Maine intellectually-challenged people, gave a two-hour presentation to Moore Center staff on the history of Laconia State School while I was employed at the local agency. The presentation was deeply upsetting and upon conclusion there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. There were no takers for his longer presentation. Lost in Laconia, written by DuBois, appears the best of Youtube historical videos on the site. The institutional option, despite the apologized-for wish of the Chester homeowner in the Ink Link article, is thankfully gone forever. To New Hampshire’s credit, we were the first state to close any and all institutions for intellectually-challenged people. That happened with Laconia’s 1991 closure, though a class action lawsuit on behalf of residents preceded it and forced the state’s hand.
Roger MacNamara, a former superintendent of Mansfield who lobbied for its closing, wrote in 1994 for the journal Mental Retardation: “These buildings were a perfect design for ease of house-keeping, mass care, and lost humanity.”
In recent years I’ve discovered a great uncle Anthony I never knew existed. A family shame and secret never mentioned. He lived at Mansfield for 14 years before dying in 1939 at age 36. His mental capacities were compromised by a bout of scarlet fever as a toddler. He had seizures. His transgression, according to my great aunt Emma, was regularly knocking on neighbors’ doors asking for magazines he wanted to cut pictures out of. Emma, who visited Anthony at Mansfield as a child, described him: “He was of a very gentle nature. Very, very handsome when I saw him.”
As was typically the case, at least in Connecticut, all records of Anthony’s life at Mansfield were destroyed 10 years after his death. His death certificate, which I obtained through the town, listed “Mental Deficiency” as a contributing factor to his death from testicular cancer. Was he in pain?
“Don’t expect much,” one Connecticut official who has graciously steered snoops like me through similar paper chases, explained: “We’re dealing with people who used to be considered nonentities.”
Corey’s staff are assuredly underpaid and overworked. They have to be professionally trained for numerous scenarios of his physically acting out. Staff turnover in such low-paying work is rampant with training resembling a calliope. On again, off again, on again. Here’s the new person. There goes the highly-qualified woman who started four months ago at $12.50 per hour. Societal priorities are obvious.
In 1973, Laconia warehoused 1,100 souls. People there suffered indignity even in death. The cemetery consisted of wooden crosses pegged into bases on the lawn. When the lawn was mowed the numerous crosses were piled up. On completion, the markers were randomly put back in the holders. Efficient. Anonymous. Inhumane.
Folks with compromised mental faculties are much more likely to be victims of violence rather than perpetrators of it. In the best of all possible worlds, folks like Corey would be fully accepted into their communities. Perhaps that’s a stretch for Chester and Corey, maybe too far of a stretch. Danger is obviously felt. However, the Chester homeowner also expressed concern for Corey and his staff’s safety. Perhaps safety for everyone is a starting point.
According to New Hampshire’s Department of Health and Human Services, the state has 114 beds for developmentally-disabled people in 33 homes. This includes placements with families in already existing homes.
According to Community Option’s website, the national nonprofit agency, the state of New York and the New York Yankees baseball team have partnered to provide 130 paid internships for adults with significant disabilities to work at Yankee Stadium. Imagine.
John Angelo is a freelance writer and contributor to Ink Link News.
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