Welcoming Nicolas
by Geralyn Anderson Arango
We hadn’t really thought about putting Nicolas in daycare until he was a little older, maybe 3 or so. Our daughter, Courtney, began preschool/daycare at the Ridley “Y” Children’s Corner at age 3 and was in her second year, but Nicolas wasn’t even 2 yet. He didn’t have any contemporaries in the neighborhood. He had just come off a year of horrendous health, beginning with respiratory distress that sent him to the hospital gasping for breath, seizures, and reflux that kept him in constant discomfort.
Nic’s main avenue for socializing at that point was his extended family, older children who came by to play with his sister, and the early intervention therapists who came to our house regularly to work with the low tone and developmental delays of his Down syndrome. In a way, we were so busy with Nicolas’ physical and medical needs that we hadn’t given much thought to his social needs as a toddler.
The idea came to me in the midst of a casual conversation with the Children’s Corner director, Debbie Mignona. I asked Debbie if the center made accommodations for children with special needs. As it turned out, there were a few children there receiving early intervention for speech and occupational therapy, though none like Nicolas. He was not walking or even creeping yet. He was nonverbal. He needed to take seizure and reflux medications at lunchtime and had to stay upright for an hour after eating. But there was an opening in the young toddler class, and Debbie told me to bring him in.
In the meantime, I checked out two other nearby daycare centers, just to compare what they had to offer. They, too, said Nicolas could come, but there was a hesitation in their tone that made me stick with the Children’s Center.
Nicolas entered the class of eight children. There were two teachers in the morning, and two in the afternoon. The teachers were noticeably nervous in those first months, and I could understand why. The first instinct was to overprotect, an instinct we are all gradually un-learning. Debbie told them not to hesitate to ask her questions, or to ask me or my husband. “And don’t treat him like a china doll. He’s just like any other child,” Debbie told them. But this was their first experience having a child with Down syndrome in their class, who needs to take medication for a serious illness. “I was afraid it wasn’t enough for him, that we wouldn’t have enough time for individual care with him,” says Cathy Reddy, the head teacher in his class.
For my part, I had to learn to leave my child in the hands of others who might not understand his way of communicating, who might be apprehensive because he is in some ways different from the other children in the class. I had to be willing to give it time, and to be ready for the emergency phone calls at work (which never came). Nicolas learned a new way of separating from us. Where there had only been long hospital stays before, now there were days with his fellow “Ducklings.” There were tears at first, and he didn’t interact much with the other children in the beginning. But through time, more physical confidence, and the caring staff’s help, he began to adjust.
As a former teacher currently working with issues of inclusion, I know that creating an inclusive setting takes more than just having a child to include. Cathy emphasized that “another set of hands” would be a big help, a need many teachers express. The Center director herself pitched in at feeding time, but it occurred to me a few months into things that it might help to have some of the 0-3 home-based therapies take place at the Children’s Corner.
The early intervention therapists now alternate weeks at our home and at daycare. The teachers opened their classroom to Nicolas’ early intervention team, and support the work he does in speech, occupational, and physical therapies. “He gets individual time and care,” says Cathy. “And he gets to play with the group. They [the therapists] let the other children join in. I can watch and learn from them.” An educator also visits with activities and suggestions. Nicolas and his physical therapist practice walking in the halls, and one of the motivators is to make it to the end of the hall so he can visit his sister in kindergarten. The coloring and painting he does in class are activities all children enjoy, not just children with IFSPs. Who knew he would be meeting occupational therapy goals in daycare?
At the end of the last school year, Nicolas stayed with the younger toddlers because it seemed to be the more appropriate placement physically. He will transition soon, at 3, from IFSP to IEP (Individual Education Plan), and will move to the toddler class in months to come. There he will interact with new teachers and overcome new hurdles. Nicolas is signing and talking a bit and is close to walking, so there are still accommodations to be made. In a room full of walkers and talkers, the accommodations will be challenging for the teachers, the new therapists, and for Nicolas. I asked Cathy what she would tell his new teachers. “Advice?” she said, thinking a moment. “Be patient. Don’t be afraid. A lot of the teachers were afraid. We don’t have the training. Any kind of training would be helpful.” As his mother, if I had to do it again, I’d try to make myself even more available to assist and answer questions, and I’d put more emphasis on the preparation that goes into making accommodations before the child ever gets into the class. I hope to connect with his new teachers before he changes classes, just to let them know we’re all in this together. Communication and flexibility are key. “We certainly don’t regret what has been a unique experience for us.” says Debbie. “When I’m with other (child care) directors and they say, ‘We wouldn’t take a child with Down syndrome,’ I say, ‘Why not? We did, and I’d take another.’”
Nicolas has started school fully included with supports, and our family wants that to be the track he stays on throughout his education.
