self help: Self-help housing key to better life for special needs mother

Published: August 31, 2006 By LAURENT L.N. BONCZIJK Of the News-Register CARLTON - Eying home ownership for the first time at age 32, Bi-Mart clerk Cathy Martin has special needs. That's because her autistic 10-year-old son, Joseph, has special needs. Totally nonverbal, one of the ways he expresses his pent-up feelings is fleeing with reckless abandon. He might bolt at any moment, and has no appreciation for concepts like the importance placed by others on their personal privacy or the dangers posed by swift-moving traffic on local streets. He is also prone to breaking glass anywhere he can find it. He wouldn't hesitate to run headlong into a set of sliding glass doors, given the opportunity. In one respect, the nonprofit Yamhill Community Development Corp. is an unlikely place to turn. That's because the self-help housing agency keeps its costs down by building every house to the same specs and buying in bulk. But in another respect, it's the perfect place to turn. That's because the program is designed for people exactly like her - people facing such tough life circumstances they've never been able to achieve the American dream of home ownership. The program's client families understand how much it means to have a place you can call your own. So they are willing to make accommodations. Because Joseph runs, Martin needs double-deadbolt locks on the exterior doors of her new Carlton home. Because he breaks glass, she needs tempered panes throughout. The other 10 homes in the first phase of the 43-lot Rolling Hills subdivision will feature sliding glass doors off the kitchen. But Martin needs a solid door instead. Not only did the other home owners graciously agree to accommodate her, but the McMinnville Lumbermen's eased the way by donating the expensive tempered glass she needs. And she couldn't be more grateful. Martin is a divorced mother of two. She also has a 13-year-old daughter, Katrina, who is living with her father in neighboring Yamhill. This summer, Joseph is staying with his grandmother. A school district employee, she had the time to devote. That's a godsend, as Martin has a 55-hour commitment to keep each week - 40 hours earning a living at Bi-Mart and 15 hours making the sweat-equity investment required of all Community Development Corp. clients. In fact, it would be even greater were it not for Martin's dad. Clients must commit to 35 hours a week working on their houses, but up to 20 can come from friends, relatives or community volunteers, and he has been helping her meet that requirement. When her mom returns to work, Joseph will be returning to school. It won't be easy, but Martin will be able to manage once he's back under professional school-day supervision. Babysitting and day care aren't really options, given Joseph's propensity for running away and breaking glass. She just can't bring herself to entrust his care to others, no matter how well-meaning. "Joseph's needs also limit what I can do professionally," Martin said. She said she had to turn down a promotion because she couldn't work the shift it required. But she said, "I miss him. Not being able to have my son with me (this summer) is the hardest part. "The program, and everything that I am doing, is for Joe. I want to have a safe place for him to live." If something ever happened to her, Martin fears Joseph could end up in an institution. She sees the house as a hedge against that, figuring it would bring enough on the market to help finance his care in a community setting. Martin said she has warned her partners in the program to be on the lookout, should Joseph ever escape. "He has no concept of personal space or privacy," she said, so he could end up in someone's kitchen. She said she's warned future homeowners in the Rolling Hills development that if they find a wordless little boy rummaging around in their fridge, he belongs to her. Martin said most people have no appreciation for the special challenges she faces with Joseph. He once needed some dental work, she said, and that requires the services of an anesthesiologist. He has to be completely under. It took three months to get an appointment with the right parties in place, and Joseph suffered in the meantime, she said. "This was a time when we were having a lot of window breakage," she said. But Martin said, "I try to focus on the little boy in there, not the autism - a little boy who loves Mickey Mouse and Disney stuff." He loves listening to music by the Australian rock band AC/DC. He also loves riding horses. But he hates the sound of a bell. It frightens him. Joseph has some unnerving habits, such as eating Kleenex and sticking rocks into bodily orifices. The latter sometimes requires trips to the doctor's office. "Employers don't really like it when you have to leave in the middle of the day to take your kid to the doctor to get a rock out of his ear," Martin noted. He will eat almost anything, whether he should or not. But he does have preferences, both positive and negative. And he is able to express them after a fashion. He likes orange juice. Sometimes he will take it out of the fridge and bring it to her so that she can pour him a glass, Martin said. He's not so fond of eggs. And he might let you know by throwing them every which way. Relatives have sometimes been forced to lock him out of the fridge and pantry, she said. While Joseph cannot speak, he can communicate. At school, his instructors are teaching him to use pictures to indicate his needs and desires. At home, his mother often resorts to a form of 20 questions, simply making guesses until she gets it right. Martin sees the new family home now taking shape in Carlton as the key to a brighter, more secure future for her and her son. And that's something she shares with most of her fellow self-help housing clients. "We are trying, we are really trying," she said. "We are single moms and dads trying to have a decent place to live and raise our children."