It is Back to School Week at CII, and it is great to see the early childhood services programs moving ahead at âfull speedâ.
As you know, the CII ECS division offers parents a number of early childhood program options. They include part day/part year center based services, full day/full year center based services, full year home based services (children up to 3 years of age), and full day/full year services in family child care homes under contract to CII. Our overall goal is to ensure that all children in our care and their parents, regardless of program option, are ready for a successful school experience by the time the children enter kindergarten.
So what are we looking like this year? ECS projects will serve nearly 2,500 children up to 5 years of age in the current year. Approximately 500 of these children are in our home based program, including First 5LA funded Select Home Visitation in SPAâs 6 and 8, almost 200 are receiving services in contracted family child care homes, and the rest are placed in one of CIIâs 30 early education centers. We are excited this year to have added two new preschool buildings: Â Our Compton Blvd. facility will serve 30 children: 6 infants and 24 toddler age children; our Western Avenue facility will serve 8 toddlers and 20 Head Start age children. Both centers recently began operations.
Summer months are important to ECS program operations, and this year was no exception. A number of key events took place: Â recruitment and enrollment of new children and families, hiring of new staff â over 40 new staff were hired in the last four months, restocking classroom supplies, refurbishing playgrounds and classrooms, and finally, comprehensive training for classroom and non-classroom staff. Thank you all for your contributions to all of these efforts. They are not only very much appreciated, they are essential to our success.
This year ECS, in line with âOne CIIâ strategic initiative, is already working on two key program efforts that will involve collaboration with CIIâs Early Childhood Behavioral Health Services and Project Fatherhood. Â Our goal for the current program year is to assess, refer and serve 100 children/families through our mental health services and to initiate a series of program activities with Project Fatherhood staff that will engage fathers currently enrolled in ECS. Â We look forward to two very successful collaborations that will benefit the children and families that we serve.
Stay tuned! We are always working on something!!
– Manny Castellanos, Jr., Ed.D., LCSW, Senior Vice President Programs
Reggie, now 5, was exposed to methamphetamines in utero and, after he was born, his biological mother wasnât able to care for him. When he was 4-weeks-old, I was his doctor in the foster-care clinic at Harbor-UCLA Medical Center. He was adopted by one of my pediatric colleagues, Amy Huang, and her husband, Daniel. Because Reggie is a minor, his and his parentsâ names have been changed.
âHe was the best baby, no withdrawals, no terrible twos,â Amy Huang said. âWe thought he had escaped the meth-effects.â
But, unfortunately, that wasnât the case.
In January, when Reggie returned to preschool after winter vacation, he started having extreme behaviors. He became defiant and aggressive. He was biting, hitting strangers and at times getting on all fours and acting like an animal. His parents were frustrated and worried that the problems were related to his drug exposure.
The effects of methamphetamines on infants in the womb run a wide spectrum, from mild learning problems to significant impairment of brain function. These infants may be born premature, have low birth weight or suffer withdrawals causing jitteriness, irritability and poor feeding. In addition, meth-addicted mothers often have poor health and may use other substances such as marijuana, tobacco, alcohol and cocaine. All of these can have negative effects on the infantâs development, as well as the motherâs ability to parent.
Researchers have shown that children who were meth-exposed in utero have difficulties with their brainâs executive function, which is the central command for organizing thoughts, planning and learning. These children also have an increased risk of disruptive behaviors and attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), as well as depression, anxiety and other mental illnesses, when compared to non-exposed peers. Some of these problems donât become obvious until the cognitive and behavioral demands of a classroom.
By spring, Reggieâs behavior was spiraling out of control and his preschool teachers couldnât cope with him. The Huangs took him out of that school but didnât know where to turn.
I recommended Childrenâs Institute Inc, as did some other friends with an adopted child who had also been exposed to drugs. I was familiar with the Instituteâs therapeutic preschool called Day Treatment Intensive, DTI. Over the past 12 years, I have referred many children with behavioral difficulties due to drug exposure, abuse, neglect and other psychological traumas.
DTI âlooks like a regular preschool,â said Nicole Fauscette, a licensed family therapist and supervisor of the program, but it offers real-time, individual therapy. First, DTI focuses on mental health, in a supportive and developmentally appropriate preschool setting. The school adds in academics as the children are ready.
The Childrenâs Institute building on Harbor-UCLAâs campus is surrounded by playgrounds. The inside is decorated in lively colors, and itâs neatly cluttered with toys and children. It looks like Crayola designed a home inviting visitors to come play.
Children ages 2½ to 5 are eligible. Many have been expelled from regular preschool. DTI has space for 12 children and classrooms have, on average, one staff member for every two kids. Referrals come from child protective services, pediatricians, Head Start, internal mental health programs and community mental health agencies.
DTI is one of less than a dozen such specialized programs in Los Angeles County, which is home to nearly 330,000 children younger than five. About 20 percent of those kids live in poverty and most have experienced adversity. The need far exceeds the slots available.
âTherapeutic preschool uses the neuro-sequential model,â said Jesus Parra, the regional director for clinical services for Childrenâs Institute. This approach provides a framework for helping a child, keeping in mind his or her trauma history, developmental stage and current ability to function.
âWe help the kids get to a place where they can regulate their behaviors, increase their attention (and) their tolerance of frustration, and better navigate peer and adult relationships,â said Fauscette. The goal is to help the children achieve emotional stability, so theyâll be ready for a traditional learning environment.
The staff and volunteers at DTI are chosen in part because of their temperament and ability to regulate their own emotions. These qualities are as valued as their education, though most have backgrounds in child development, psychology or mental health.
âAn adult in control of their emotions helps children who are not in control of theirs,â said Parra, who leads some of the staff trainings.
The program aims, Parra said, for âthe parents to fall in love with their child again.â
Reggie started at DTI in early May. The teachers observed that when he behaves like a dinosaur or other animal, it is because he is feeling anxious and frightened. In this way, they reason, he is attempting to defend himself against the danger he perceives. So, instead of punishing him for disobeying, Reggieâs teachers approach him calmly and help him address his anxiety.
In the last few months, Reggie has made progress learning to use wordsâand not aggressionâto express his emotions.
The Huangs have already noticed a change. The teachers âwere able to describe to us how Reggie interprets his world,â Daniel Huang said. âItâs helpingâhim and me.â
Pediatrician ChrisAnna Mink writes the bimonthly Doctorâs Notes column on Cal Health Report’s childrenâs health.
Itâs National Mental Health Awareness month, and I keep thinking about Antoine because I may have broken his heart.
Years ago I volunteered at a residential treatment center for foster children, in a cottage that housed ten young boys. They were âseriously emotionally disturbed,â the threshold classification for placement in that center. Most had survived multiple foster homes, sometimes punctuated by stays in psych hospitals, only to become âunplaceableâ and almost certainly unadoptable.
During my weekly visits, some boys avoided me while others checked out the PokĂŠmon cards or Legos I brought, only to wander off within minutes, endlessly distracted. But Antoine, 11, always sat by me, rapt and loyal. He built plastic cities, or painted his arms in Wonder bread polka dots, or listened to Harry Potter by the hour. Clever, powerful and entirely winning, Antoine had a monk-like focus, even when all hell broke loose in the cottage. He particularly loved an oversized book on the Titanic; we imagined life on every deck, the sound of the ocean, the smells of the boiler room (but never the ending). Antoine and I hung out in a corner of the common room every Tuesday, week after week. In that chaotic place, it was one thing we both could count on.
And then one day he wasnât there: he had to spend the day in court. Before this third birthday heâd been taken from the custody of his grandmother because she extinguished cigarettes on his body and sexually abused him, but I didnât know anything about his current status.
Meanwhile, emboldened by Antoineâs absence, 9-year old Shawn grabbed the Titanic book, sat with me for a while and soon lost interest.
The following week Antoine was back, but he refused to speak to me. I asked him why, I joked, I begged, and then gave up. The next week, same thing: wouldnât look at me, wouldnât answer, wouldnât touch anything I left behind for the boys to use. I asked his counselor what was going on, but he was calming a crying boy, inconsolable after losing a basketball game. I finally got Antoineâs attention long enough to apologize for sharing the Titanic book with another kid, but he never, ever spoke to me again. By April, he was gone, transferred to another group home.
What became of that extraordinary child, so keen, so persistent? His stubborn silence told me he was nothing like the other boys, that he was proud, vigilant, in control. Perhaps by sharing my time and his book with the other boy I had betrayed him, like so many others with whom heâd felt just a little bit safe. Who knows how many adults broke him, even after his physical scars healed.
How do children communicate their pain? And are we listening?
One out of five children has a diagnosable mental disorder, and itâs estimated that 80 percent of foster children have significant mental health issues. Quiet kids like Antoine may not advertise their trauma history with antisocial behavior, but former foster youth in general are five times more likely to suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) than the general population, and even exceed the rate for American war veterans.
The effects of trauma, especially complex and repeated trauma experienced by so many young people in foster care, are varied: dissociation, depression, anger and anxiety. Children may lack self-regulation and appear to overreact or underreact. Chronic stress affects cognition and executive functioning, and is a predictor for long-term physical health, as well as substance abuse and other suffering.
In celebration of National Mental Health Awareness month, letâs listen to children, without judgment, and remember how many are exposed to violence, in their homes and in their streets and schools. They are longing to trust, no matter what they say or do.
The National Child Traumatic Stress Network has excellent information and resources. To commemorate national Mental Health Awareness Month, letâs mend hearts, not break them.