Persevering with a Special Needs Child: Part Two
Kurt Douglas Sass, Poetry Editor
the first half of this article, Kurt Sass wrote about raising his mentally ill, autistic, and developmentally disabled son, and described his son's ever-increasing aggressiveness and even violence. He and his wife eventually decided they would have to find Little Kurt a placement in a group home, but despite looking for several years, every group home they applied to turned their son down. In this article, Kurt tells us the very painful story of how he finally got his son the help he needed.
Little Kurt was having a horrible time at home one night, knocking over the TV set and a wall unit. When he started to bang his head on purpose against the wall, we knew we had to take him in. While at the Emergency Room, one of the ER docs motioned me over to him. "Have you thought about placing Kurt in a group home?" he asked. "Of course," I told him, then proceeded to tell him our two-year saga of trying to place Kurt without any success.
The doctor then brought me to a small room and closed the door behind us. "I want to tell you something, Mr. Sass, but you can never tell anyone that I told you this. Most group homes will never take a child like Kurt. They only want kids that don't really need to be in group homes because they are easier to take care of and require less staff.
"There is one thing we can do, Mr. Sass, but you have to promise not to tell anyone you heard this from me." He had my full attention. "The only way a group home will accept Kurt would be if Child Welfare felt that he could not under any circumstances remain at your home. What I can do is refer him overnight to the Bronx Children's Psychiatric Hospital for evaluation and to put on my report that it is for the child's safety.
"What you need to do, Mr. Sass, is to come to the hospital tomorrow and convince Child Welfare that you hate him and that if he is returned home you will harm him. You'll have to be very convincing because if they don't believe you, they will send him right back to your house. One other thing, come alone. If both parents come, it is more likely that the child will not be considered in danger. To be honest with you, this is the only way to get him into a group home."
I discussed this with my wife and, through tears, we decided to go ahead with it since it was our only option.
I went to the Bronx Children's Psychiatric Hospital alone and was led to a room in which there were four people: Little Kurt, a hospital staff person and two people I believed to be from the Department of Child Welfare. As soon as I spotted them, I yelled at Kurt and called him every name in the book. I had never cursed at Kurt before and felt like the lowest scum on Earth in doing so. I called him a "fucking retard" and told him I wished he was never born. I picked up a chair and threw it past Kurt, close enough for the others in the room to think he was the target. I will never forget the look of fear on Kurt's face for as long as I live.
What I did worked. They refused to let me take Kurt home, and two days later, placed him in a group home only five minutes from our house, a place we were told many times in the past had no openings.
Was it worth it? Yes. Kurt flourished in the highly structured, group home environment.