By Paula Day

Three women, Mary Ann Crofton, Mary Ann Mitcham and Marie Sams, gave birth to Down syndrome sons within 12 months of one another nine years ago.

Today Michael Crofton, Jonathan Mitcham and Joseph Sams are attending public schools and finding their places in society, albeit at a slower pace.

This achievement was not without a struggle. Early intervention is vital for children with developmental disabilities which are defined as physical and mental disabilities that occur before age 22 and result in substantial functional limitations. In the early 1980s there were limited services for these children. The closest preschools for the developmentally delayed were in north Atlanta, a distance too far to travel for families in the south metro area who also had other children. And so the determined trio from Fayette and Henry counties founded The Early Years, a school for special children.

A yellow frame home with a picket fence, tucked away among the trees in a Fayetteville neighborhood, houses The Early Years. Only playground equipment in the backyard gives a clue to its special identity. Inside 10 three-and four-year-olds and five primary school age children, all with various developmental disabilities receive instruction for three hours each weekday morning. Another group comes for the afternoon session.

Each child’s curriculum is individualized and their time highly structured. During the first hour, under the supervision of a teacher or trained aide, two or three work cooperatively on their own projects focusing on cognitive goals. The second hour the children concentrate on developing their fine motor skills – stringing beads, screwing on jar lids, stacking blocks. Each day they also practice self-help skills: dressing, turning water faucets off and on, brushing teeth, drying hands, tying shoes, buttoning and unbuttoning, zipping and unzipping. All need speech therapy and a therapist employed by the county comes two-and-a-half days each week to work with them. Gently but firmly, the staff watch, guide, direct their charges. In conjunction with the spoken word, they use a specialized sign language developed in England for Down syndrome children. This added visual message helps reinforce their patient instruction.

A generation ago it would have been medically acceptable to advise institutionalizing the children who attend The Early Years. But growth in public awareness, and laws mandating access to a free, appropriate public education in the least restrictive environment for the disabled, including developmentally delayed youngsters, now give added reason to plan for a future for them.

In 1986, an amendment to the landmark 1975 Education of the Handicapped Act mandated that by the 1991-92 school year states receiving federal monies for education must have in place preschool programs for disabled three-and four-year-olds. The same amendment requires that early intervention services from birth to three years be available by July, 1994.

These opportunities were not available in 1981 and Mary Ann and Tom Crofton felt very isolated. At the time the couple, who are members of Holy Trinity parish in Peachtree City, didn’t know anyone in a similar situation.

“We had no idea what to expect.” Mrs. Crofton recalls. “You can’t project what to expect at age six, age 15. You can’t say you’ll be looking for a college when he’s 18. You don’t know if he’ll be reading when he’s 18, or even if he’ll be able to talk.”

As new parents of a special child, the Croftons needed support and information. Mary Ann met Marie Sams and Mary Ann Mitcham when she attended an early intervention program in nearby Clayton County. The program brought parents together once every two weeks and involved them in stimulating their infants’ development up until their second birthdays.

As far as information was concerned, Mrs. Crofton was advised not to read anything published over 10 years earlier. Today she would tell a new parent of a special child not to read anything published more than five years ago because advances in the field are so rapid. However, she admits at the time she read everything she could find.

The three women understood the importance of early intervention for their sons. “One of the things we know,” explains Wendy Sanders who coordinates the state’s Early Intervention Program, “is that over one half of a person’s development occurs before he or she reaches age five, so by providing early intervention as soon as possible we can assist a child in reaching his or her maximum potential and at the same time minimize any potential disabilities.”

Mary Ann Mitcham believes Jonathan would “probably be doing absolutely nothing” if it had not been for early intervention and his attending The Early Years. She admits somewhat wryly, “If I’d known he would learn to write his name, I would have given him a shorter one.” The Mitchams named their son Jonathan because any form of John means “gift from God.”

Research shows that the community as a whole also benefits from early intervention. A Tennessee study found that for every dollar spent on early treatment, seven dollars in savings were realized in 26 months. A study of Colorado’s statewide early intervention services reported a cost savings off our dollars for every one dollar spent in a three-year period.

The three women didn’t want to start Early Years, Mary Ann Crofton admits. But Fayette County, where she and Marie Sams live, had only a small population of children with disabilities and hadn’t appropriated funds for their preschool needs.

After meeting a Florida woman who had successfully begun a school for special children, Mrs. Sams broached to her two friends the idea of starting their own school. Their decision “was a leap of faith,” says Mary Ann Mitcham, “and we took it one step at a time.”

The women found people with needed skills, such as a lawyer who advised them to incorporate, and an unemployed special education teacher. Marie Sam’s mother-in-law owned the yellow house with the picket fence, a perfect non-institutional environment. Her father-in-law, Dr. Ferrol Sams, Jr. talked to people in the neighborhood and found residents agreeable to having a school for the handicapped nearby. Dr. Sams, a published author, continues to support the school by donating honorariums from speaking engagements to The Early Years.

“Things happened to make it happen,” Mrs. Mitcham maintains. A woman of faith who is a member of the Church of Jesus Christ, she says “a lot of prayers went into that school. We prayed for what we needed – prayed for strength to do it.”

Marie Sams, who is active in her United Methodist church, calls the school “a mission from God,” which helped her and others let go of the habit of stereotyping handicapped children by seeing them as individuals with their own special talents, seeing each “as an individual child of God.”

A major obstacle in starting The Early Years was finding an appropriate curriculum. A determined search ended when Marie Sams learned of an outreach program developed by the University of Washington in Seattle. The school became a satellite in the university’s program and opened in 1984. Joseph, Michael and Jonathan and three other children were the first class, meeting three mornings a week. Marie Sams was the first director. The two other women split their duties which included fund raising, bookkeeping and general administrative tasks. Eventually Mary Ann Crofton, who has a master’s degree in education and had taught, took over as director.

The second year the program expanded to five mornings with 10 children. In the middle of the year the school began afternoon sessions with seven pupils. By the third year enrollment was at its maximum of 20 preschool children. At the present time, in addition to the three- and four-year-olds, there are 10 primary school-aged children who split their day, spending the other half mainstreamed in a public school setting. This past year the preschoolers came from eight counties. Their diagnoses included Down syndrome, cerebral palsy and seizure disorders. All are developmentally delayed and have some physical limitations.

The privately-funded school is supported by an array of individuals and groups within the community. This experience of community generosity may have taught the women to be sanguine about finances. A one-year grant from United Way helped get the program started. The following year the school received 75 percent of its funding from a challenge grant through the Georgia Council on Developmental Disabilities. Early Years was selected for the grant, according to Carol Weber, administrator of the program, because it met very specific, stringent requirements.

Offered for a limited five years, the Challenge Grant funds decreased gradually from 75 to 25 percent of the needed revenues. The difference each year came from private contributions. The goal was to involve community members in early intervention programs they would continue to maintain and support. Ms. Weber commended the women for an “excellent job of generating interest and support for their program.” Current support comes from civic groups, churches, corporations and individuals. An Early Years Guild sponsors fund-raising events.

People in a community like to support something locally, according to Mary Ann Crofton. “They say they like to drive by and see what their money is helping to do.” The school offers scholarships, and tuition is based on a family’s ability to pay.

What may not seem clear at first to contributors is the possible far-reaching impact of their monetary gifts. Personality development is hard to measure. Marie Sams says the professional teachers encouraged Joseph to do “a lot of thing I assumed he could not learn, things I thought he was not ready for. He learned things that in no way I could have taught him.”

Mary Ann Crofton reports that Michael is doing well mainstreamed in a regular second-grade class where he “works very hard” on his reading and math skills. He spends part of his schoolday in a special education class for the mildly mentally handicapped.

“He’s a joy,” Mrs. Crofton says. “He thinks the world is his oyster. He likes everybody and assumes everybody likes him. He’s very open to everyone.” A recent milestone for Michael was making his First Holy Communion.

“He can be very stubborn,” the nine-year-old’s mother added. “He might try to manipulate, but with a smile. It’s as if he’s saying, ‘I don’t think this is going to work, but we’ll try it.’”

“Our feeling right now is there’s nothing wrong with Michael. He’s different, but that’s not bad, that’s the way he is. He has so many positives.” Positives enhanced by experiences in a school three mothers helped start.