THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, March 1, 1996 TAG: 9603010461
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: By DENISE WATSON, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 153 lines
Cerebral palsy keeps J.R. Evans' lips open when he'd like them shut, shut when he'd like them open. But Evans had something important to say and he was determined to say it.
``I'm . . . not . . . going to let them . . . close . . . the school,'' he said. His arms, moving about his wheelchair, also struggle for control.
``I thought . . . I found . . . Heaven . . . when I came here. I had . .
Evans, 20, had just learned that his Virginia School for the Deaf and the Blind at Hampton was not going to close and merge with its sister facility in Staunton but he was still worried. So was 18-year-old Carshena Gary:
``I'm graduating, but the school needs to be here for other students,'' she said.
Both Evans and Gary have lived at the Hampton school for several years and have seen the reprieves come and go. The most recent was a one-vote margin in the state Senate this month that barely killed a bill to consolidate, but Evans knows the victories are temporary.
Some say the 90-year-old school is volatile because of shrinking enrollment and increasing costs. Others say race is a factor influencing the effort to close the Hampton campus.
Since 1979, various state agencies have conducted 26 studies to examine the two schools that offer residential services to the deaf and blind and, at Hampton, multi-handicapped students age 2 to 22. Since the mid-70s, the schools' combined enrollment has dropped nearly 48 percent as special-needs students are mainstreamed into public schools and medical advancements have reduced illnesses that once caused deafness and blindness.
September 1995 enrollment figures show that Staunton has 171 students, Hampton 114.
Budget cuts have trimmed personnel and stymied program development with both schools costing the state $12 million a year to operate. Merging the schools into one campus - Staunton - is the best alternative, says the Virginia Department of Education. Many states have just one such school.
Other supporters of the merger - the Staunton campus officials, local advocates for the hearing-impaired - believe pooling resources and students will provide more services instead of splitting the state's budget between the two schools.
``The education here isn't like it was in Florida schools. It isn't as good,'' said Maggie Williams, whose family moved to Virginia Beach in 1992. She recently removed her deaf son from Hampton and hopes to enroll him in Staunton.
``I believe consolidation will help from the standpoint of the budget cuts, making the education better.''
But the Hampton supporters have serious concerns. Some teachers feel the move is unnecessary since Hampton is already equipped to handle the multi-disabled and Staunton is not - and might not accommodate some of Hampton's students - if the schools consolidate. Some teachers say the issue has racial overtones.
``This school first opened in 1906 as the Colored School for the Deaf and the Blind. Blacks weren't allowed to go to that school,'' said Patricia Saunders Nixon, voice and music instructor at Hampton.
``People still call the Staunton school the `white school' and Hampton, `the black one.' It smells of things that happened in the '50s and the '60s. It's easier to close the black school, make us move.''
Many of Hampton's 131 staff members fear losing jobs. Military families, who often request assignments in this area because of the Hampton school, don't want to ship their kids four hours away. Student teachers from local colleges would lose the school as a training lab.
The interim prinicipal for the Hampton campus feels torn.
``I understand it is a matter of the state being strapped for money,'' Edward Bland said.
``I think there's a stronger parent organization at Staunton that's tied into the state legislature. I could argue both sides of the coin on why we should close and go over there or stay here.''
But underneath the talk of consolidation and cost-effectiveness are the students, many of whom live in campus dorms, go to Patrick Henry Mall for karaoke on Wednesdays, and travel home on the weekends to be with family. Many can't comprehend the legal talk but can sign or tap out on a computer that they like being with folks who communicate like them. They like going to the Sweetheart dance with people who move like them. They like playing on a basketball team, which they couldn't do before.
``This has been an experience,'' said SedricColeman, 20, of Suffolk. Coleman enrolled last year after an adverse reaction to medication left his speech and eyesight impaired.
``I've lived most of my life without a disability and people might've considered me mean; I might not have been too nice to people with multi-disabilities before. But I've grown closer to the multiply handicapped now. This is a special place.''
It was Carshena Gary's first chance to live visually impaired but not feel necessarily disabled. Gary lost most of her eyesight when she developed a brain tumor at age 3. She received special classes and help at her elementary and middle school classes in Capron but it wasn't enough for her to ``fit in.''
She transferred to the Hampton school when she was 11 and learned how to play kickball, following a ball by the jangle of a bell in its center. For the first time, she had friends to play braille Monopoly, Scrabble and cards. She learned to ride a bike. Gary is only an hour away from home and had family members who lived nearby in Hampton and Yorktown.
The 18-year-old now spends half of her day at Hampton High, where she studies advanced government, English, and second-year Spanish. This June, she'll receive diplomas from both schools. She'd love to attend nearby Hampton University in the future.
``It's neat going to Hampton High, once the teachers become adjusted to having a vision-impaired student in the class. And people remember to keep their books out of the walkway,'' Gary said, with a laugh.
``But I like it here. I would like to go to college and become a day-care attendant and work with the vision-impaired; support parents with vision-impaired children. I'd like to give back what people have given me.''
Antione Whitaker wears a hearing aid but still feels more comfortable using sign language.
The 14-year-old's fingers move quickly when asked about his two years at the school.
``I really like this school but we don't have enough students,'' he signs. He says some of the words softly as he moves his fingers, ``My teachers say we will have to move.''
Claudine Payne, the library media specialist at the school, is sitting nearby and begins to move her fingers.
``Hey, you haven't heard yet? They aren't closing the school.''
Antione smiles and his fingers flash.
Payne signs,``Are you happy?''
Antione raises his fist, moving it as if he's knocking on a door.
``That means yes,'' Payne interprets.
A Hampton resident, Antione goes home every day, where he plays with friends and tags along with his cousins and watches them play football. But he can't play sports out there.
He can at school. Right now he's on the basketball team and he's hoping the school will develop a wrestling squad.
``I'm real good in basketball,'' Whitaker motions. ``And I'm learning how to bodybuild.
Evans, 20, is at Hampton after years in a Danville public school.
``I . . . didn't like it . . . there,'' Evans said. ``I had . . . mean .
Evans is visually impaired and cerebral palsy restricts most of his movement, confining him to a wheelchair. Someone has to feed him the red Jello he likes after lunch. But teachers and students have learned over the past six years that nothing contains the real J.R.
He uses his elbow to work a handsized button that operates the computers at school. Evans used it recently and typed out a letter that he sent to his local legislators about keeping his school open.
``I'm . . . not stupid,'' Evans said.
``There's nothing . . . wrong with my . . . mind.'' ILLUSTRATION: D. KEVIN ELLIOTT color photos, The Virginian-Pilot
Antione Whitaker, 14, enjoys sports at the Virginia School for the
Deaf and Blind, something he can't participate in off-campus.
Even on a sunny day, Orlandez Lewis bundles up against a brisk walk
across the 90-year-old Hampton school's campus.
KEYWORDS: VIRGINIA STATE SCHOOL FOR THE DEAF AND BLIND by CNB