FEEBLE-MINDEDNESS.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 20448, 30 June 1928, Page 9

FEEBLE-MINDEDNESS.

By B. E. Batjghan, B.A.

i HELP INSTEAD OF HINDRANCE. Written for the Otago Daily Times.

The hopeless thing about feeblemindedness is that it seems to bo incurable, but the hopeful thing about it is that it is trainable. This seems never to have been suspected until the beginning of last century, when a French physician, Itard by name, made an attempt to humanise “ the savage of Aveyron,” a youth who, like Mowgli, had grown up among wild animals, but, unlike Mowgli, I was extremely weak in the wits. Itard’s I spirited experiment was a failure, so far j as its immediate object was concerned, > but, like many failures, it proved the basis of eventual success, for one of his pupils, Seguin, became deeply interested in his notes of the case and the experiments he had made, and bit by bit developed the latter into what are still some of the best lines known for training the feeble-minded. Reed in England, Saegart in Prussia, and Guggenbuhl in Switzerland, too, all began to study the subject independently of one another j about the same time—it was evidently in the air.” Eventually Seguin went to America, where, so lately as 1923, his widow was still carrying on the school he there started, and perhaps that is why America has so largely led the way in this particular reform. All but three or four of the States now have their own i institutions for the care of the feeble--1 minded, and these have proved beyond | the least not only that their ; patients, so segregated and trained, can be made manually most useful and earn in part at least their own living, but that they are far happier when so cared for and far less harmful to the community, and—what to some of us seems even more interesting—that the attempt to care properly for them and develop the best that is in them, has resulted in the discovery of certain teaching methods of the greatest value to the normal child. The feeble-minded, properly handled, can be of r,eal use to the community; the “ bruised reeds,” in skilled hands, can be quite admirably woven into the general texture of society, and repay treatment by holding whole basketfuls of blessing. If we in New Zealand prefer to break and let them rot, we have only ourselves to blame for the offence that they become, for there is a better way, and it has been found. Not until a good deal later than America does England seem to have found it, but found it she also has. Kindness, patience, manual training, and the recognition that, whatever the age of their bodies, these Peter Pans never can really 1 grow up, and therefore can never be ex- ! pected to be fully responsible, arc the I milestones of this' road to success with I them; and a New Zealand visitor to the Manor at Epsom, Surrey, where there are a thousand inmates of both sexes, committed permanently to its care, could write, last year: “ They are taught every kind of trade, according to their capabilities—carpentry, weaving, needlework, ■ bootmaking, basketry, leather work, mili linery, tinmaking, brush and matmaking, | farming, gardening—and, if they can do | nothing else, they chop and carry wood. I Some of the work produced is the best of ■ its kind, proving the undeniable fact that these ‘ children/ with the constant supervision of institution life, can do excellent work, which, on their own initiative and ■under ordinary social conditions, they would be incapable of. Under such conditions of careful supervision and constant occupation, the life of these people is amazingly contented and happy. They work, but they play, they sing and they dance, they have their own troops o' Girl Guidos and Boy Scouts. . . They may be allowed out for periods to do certain work, or to visit their people, but their names are never removed from the books of the institution, and when out they report at intervals. ... A great deal of this success is due to the admirable spirit of the superintendents. The doctor who escorted me round could greet each of the thousand inmates by name. He knew what work each was doing, and his interest and pride in individual achievement would have warmed far more sophisticated hearts than their simple ones.” There really seems something about these “ innocents ” which, when they are being housed and trained under proper conditions, brings out the sweetest qualities in those who look after them. Before me lies a little heap of reports of homes and schools for the feeble-minded, and almost all of them radiate cheerfulness and hopefulness and a real affection for such inmates, and a certain playfulness and kindly humour which, to one accustomed chiefly to finding our feeble-minded in prison, where, naturally, they are about as far from success as they can possibly be, and are often the butt of others, is a most delicious draught of human comfort. “ Dirt,” as we know, “ is only matter in the wrong place.” Our New Zealand feeble-minded are only nuisances because they are in the wrong place at present. Why not weed them out—out of prisons, out of families that can’t deal with them, out of conditions and company that lead them into crime—and transplant them into some place like “Epsom”? Or like Rome, of Vinelands, or Wrentham, Waverley, Letchworth, or some other of the American" institutions. We have not the money which some benefactors lavish on some of these, with the ready American indulgence towards all children; but we have enough, surely, to start such a real economy in simple but sufficient lines. •• There is no field of political economy that can be worked to better advantage for the diminution of crime, pauperism, and insanity,” especially as humane segregation of* this kind prevents reproduction. Moreover, we are perpetually haying to i pay for these defectives as it is, and | often very dearly, in law courts, prisons, I mental hospitals, in charitable aid, and | the like. There must be no sweat- | ing, of course, but the best way to keep I the feebleminded happy is to keep them ! busy, and, once the idea of training them | manually,” instead of only “ verbally” —through' the hand instead of the head—is accepted and worked on, it is clear that much useful work can be taught, I which will be benefit financially as well I as educationally. Both Waverley and 1 Letchworth send out some of their in- ] mates on probation to service, in ! specially selected places, and still under ■ supervision. “ We have more demands i for them than we can supply,” said the ; head social service worker at the latter place, to another New Zealand medical man. “ People know they are well- | trained, and they nearly always do | well. . . . It is my job to see that j they are well placed, and that the people ! treat them fairly.” Probationers out | at work in this way from Waverley | earned in one year over £14,000. The j output of work from Darenth Training I Colony, Kent, England, for one year was valued at £72,000. That looks as though our feebleminded, properly cared for and trained, need not be the worse than dead loss they are at present, even financially, doesn’t it? At Rome, New York State, there is a specially interesting experiment in grading, housing, and employing such inmates. To begin with, there is the i parent institution, where all are trained j first. Then, in additioon, there is a ; system of “ colonies,” which are private | farms or houses, scattered here and I there, that serve as “ halfway houses ” i towards a return to community life for ■ those whom seem likely candidates. 1 “ To these colonies, groups of defectives ; varying in number from 20 to 40, arc drafted. ... A raoijp or less prolonged observation period precedes this colony trial. The boys work the farm

under the direction of the man in charge, or are allowed to work for surrounding farmers. In most cases the boys return to the colonies to sleep. The progress of each is carefully watched, and, if necessary, he may be returned to the parent institution ” (which some prove to prefer). “ The girls are placed in domestic or industrial colonies. If in the former they are placed in private families as domestic servants, returning to the colony at night. Their wages go in part for the upkeep of the homo and the self-support of the girls; the rest is placed to the girls’ credit in the bank. . . . Failures are comparatively infrequent.” Does not this suggest that, with proper legislative and social safeguards, some country mothers over-bur-dened with children might get trained helpers from among the ranks of some such colony? Remember, such girls would not be idiots, but only childish; they would have proper guardianship, and the law would protect them. As it is, they often do work in other folks’ homes, but, here in New Zealand, at present, without any proper understanding of their special needs, any proper guardianship, any due protection by law, and so they often come to grief, and we, through them, to loss. “ Well, but all these arc what you can really call ‘ innocents.’ What of the defective who is also delinquent?” may be asked. “Do you mean to mix the two kinds ? ” It has been tried, not too successfully always. While we must remember that, given special homes, supervision, and training early enough enough, many delinquent traits would never develop in these handicapped citizens, yet, from the account of the institution known as Stoneyetts, near Glasgow, and those at Eampton and Warwick, in England, special provision does seem, in a few cases, to be needed for these. But they are comparatively very few. As a rule the crimes of the defective spring rather from the neglect of his special needs by the community than from any great villainy in himself. “It is surprising,” writes the superintendent at Stoneyetts, “that we, with our native foresight, have not realised sooner that it is from the adult defective that all the dangers of mental deficiency to the community arise. . . We are lagging behind our ancient rivals in England. There, many colonies, some capable of accommodating over 2000 inmates, have come into being even since the war, and it behoves Scotland to buckle to.” Since Scotland has at least some such institutions, and New Zealand has, for the adult defective,, simply nothing at all, and no legislation about him, either, does it not behove us also to buckle to? “ How do you keep these inmates from running away? ” is another question that naturally crops up in the mind of one seeking information about such homes and colonies. None of those whose reports I have seem ever to have had much difficulty of this kind. The inmates are far happier, mostly, than they were before admission, and, when visits home are perm! tied, visitors admitted, and parole granted fairly freely when conduct is good, it is clear that in no way are such homes regarded as prisons. Indeed, sometimes it is the other way round—they are much preferred to the patient’s own home. “ My daughter was in your institution for 12 years,” writes a parent to the superintendent of the Pennsylvania Training School. “ She broods longingly over her life (there). She craves friends. . . . We are asking you to take her back.” “My boy is well, but not hapnv.” writes another. “He is grieving himself sick to go back. ... I will appreciate your kindness in taking hiip back if you can.” Is it surprising? . Outside such homes, these hapless “ boys and girls,” in bodies too mature for them, are at a perennial disadvantage. They have no real contemporaries, no “ mates ” of their own kind, no possibility of ever leading, no chance of developing to their fullest extent the really sweet natures they may have. If poor, they may be drudges, butts, or cat’s paws. Even when most tenderly cared for “ they may still be called paupers, though living in the midst of wealth ” —which, of course, is not wealth to them. But, put them in a community especially fitted to their capacities and needs, and they can expand, like dried seaweed in water; they can enjoy themselves; they can have friends and fun among their equals; best of all, they can develop humanly, and that is the note I want to close on. “As they grow up,” says the fatherly and humorous .director of Vineland, Edward Ransome Johnstone, “ these girls and boys become the ‘ solid citizens ’ of this little world of theirs. Florence tells how, years ago, Sadie taught her to walk and talk, and she in turn has taught others. John remembers and laughs about his troublesome days, and with love and patience leads Victor to kindness. Maud, mindful of her homesick days, comforts and pets Ellen. Harry has now a dozen boys helping him on the lawns. Under Frankie’s guidance the school gardens blossom, bloom, and yield, as ho teaches 30 others the secrets of agriculture. Eddie has gone through all the steps of driving the goat, the donkey and a team of Ixorscs and is now earning his own living. . . . We can get very good results from our boys and girls, but,” here is the point, “it is because we know their mental condition.” It is because they not only make it their business to know it, but to act on the knowledge. When will New Zealand do the same, and, maybe, add contributions of her own to the world’s knowledge of how to turn its feebleminded to real human account?