By Sue Anne Pressley Montes
Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, March 8, 2008
For the first time in his life, Milton Askew, 59, has a room of his own.
It has been a long journey for Askew, a grocery store worker who has mental disabilities. He has moved from Forest Haven, the former Laurel institution where he whiled away hours doing nothing, to a series of restrictive foster and group homes, to this sunny Northwest apartment, where he loves playing host.
"I want to show you around. This right here is my room," Askew said proudly, as he gave guests a tour on a recent morning.
"And this is my TV. And this is my movie projector," he said, patting a DVD player.
In the past year, it has become easier for Askew and dozens of other D.C. residents with mental disabilities to begin living independently. Because of a push by Mayor Adrian M. Fenty (D) and the retooled D.C. Department on Disability Services, more than 80 people have moved into supervised apartments and small homes since July 1.
Officials hope, with time, to move many more. About 550 residents still live in group homes and other institutional settings, officials said, and many of them, including the profoundly disabled, are eligible for the change.
For those who already have made the leap, it is a new world -- without exit signs over the front doors, without strict meal schedules and shared rooms, without an authority figure to make the decisions. After decades of institutional life, they are learning how to be part of a community, how to be the kings and queens of their own homes.
"I vacuum every day, yes, I do," said Melvin Wilson, 58, another newcomer to apartment living who also spent many years at Forest Haven.
Although many of the residents have an attendant when they are not working, it is up to them to decorate and clean their home and gradually become self-reliant.
Fenty's plan, with its emphasis on jobs and more personal home settings, attempts to right a long, sad history of wrongs.
For years, the District's most vulnerable citizens were housed at Forest Haven, the institution that became notorious for its filthy conditions and flagrant neglect. When the city closed the facility in 1991, many of the 1,100 residents were settled into privately operated group homes. Those facilities led to a new set of troubles, however, with many documented cases in the 1990s of abuse, neglect, molestation and theft.
A decade ago, as other jurisdictions began to move toward independent living, the District remained stalled. "The reality is, in many ways, D.C. has lagged in the area of disabilities," said Judith E. Heumann, a longtime activist who became the department's new director in June.
At Fenty's urging, the District is moving at full speed on a project that many advocates view as a civil rights issue for the disabled.
"I think one of the biggest problems that disabled people address is how they see themselves and how others see them -- see us," said Heumann, who had polio as a child and uses a wheelchair. "And when you live in a community in a more integrated setting like other people, you begin to be seen less as the oddity and more like a member of the community."
Last fall, the department redesigned the federal Medicaid waivers that allow the District to offer alternative services to people who otherwise would require institutional care, making it simpler to put together a package of support services. Most of the costs are paid with Social Security benefits, wages and Medicaid.
In the first months, caretakers said the residents blossomed in their new homes. Behavioral problems have decreased, the caretakers said, and the residents take pride in the most mundane aspects of daily life -- possessing a mailbox key, opening a bank account, making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
It also took a measure of courage for some residents to make the move. Askew, a polite, shy man who gets nervous with change, had to be persuaded.
"We set up a meeting and I was talking about offering Mr. Askew a home," said Mary Bolling, a supervisor service coordinator with the Department on Disability Services. Askew grew emotional at the thought of leaving his old life.
"He cried on me," Bolling said. "I had to tell him we're really trying, because of the past experiences, to get everybody to be able to dream a little bit."
Hoping to get Askew interested, she took him to a couple of homes where the department had already placed people. But he was unimpressed with the shiny hardwood floors and colorful decorations he saw. "I don't need all this," he told Bolling.
In October, Askew reluctantly agreed to give independent living a try and moved to a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment that he shares with another man who has disabilities.
"I didn't know how to do it, but after I got here and got used to it, then I started liking it," he said.
Askew, who is mildly retarded, had moved into Forest Haven when he was a teenager, after his mother died. He later lived in foster homes, where he did not receive much attention, and a group home that he shared with seven other disabled residents.
Two years ago, through a job-development program, he got his first job at Whole Foods on P St. NW as a basket-stacker and greeter. After a recent raise, he earns $10.90 an hour and has been honored as an employee of the week.
Askew said he is proud that he has a good job and a nice apartment. His home, in a bustling neighborhood, features stainless-steel kitchen appliances and leather chairs by a window. He points out his king-sized bed -- "I always wanted a big bed" -- and shows off a birthday card he received that plays the song "Who Let the Dogs Out?"
Sometimes, Askew said, he misses his old friends at the group home. He still gets teary-eyed thinking about them, but he perked up after Bolling suggested that he invite them over. "You'll have to have a little get-together," she said.
For Melvin Wilson, there was no looking back. For years, he had been telling caretakers to get him out of the group home. Today, he is a picture of satisfaction as he sits in his immaculate apartment in Northwest.
"I thank God I moved away," he said on a recent morning, dressed in a suit and tie.
Wilson's complaint with the group home was that someone was always disturbing his belongings. There was no privacy and he was tired of it, he said.
Wilson, who has moderate cognitive and adaptive disabilities, had entered Forest Haven at age 11. He still becomes upset when he recalls how his arms would be bound and he would have to stand against the wall for long periods for behavior infractions.
"My back was killing me real bad, man," he said. "They were killing me." One time, after he was unbound, he said: "I threw a chair across the room."
That was the past, though. Now, he said, "I've got a good life, I sure do."
Wilson, a product of decades of institutional living, had a few adjustments to make in his new home.
"He had to learn to clean up," said Chidi Oriaku, a case manager service coordinator with the Department on Disability Services. "He had been at a group home and they had staff to do that. I said, 'Melvin, who lives here?' And he says, 'I do.' And I said, 'Well, Melvin's going to keep his environment clean, then.' "
Wilson, who works at a Safeway supermarket in Silver Spring, took her words to heart. He bought cleaning products and diligently does his chores each morning. Today, his bedroom, decorated in his favorite color, burgundy, is spotless. His closet, with its neat rows of shoes and precisely folded jeans, drew cries of admiration from his guests one recent morning.
"You're the man," Phillippa Mezile, an official with the department, said during a recent visit.
"I sure am," Wilson replied.
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