Learning the hard way

A woman with a child's mind takes a big step toward dream job in schools.

By Doug Hoagland / The Fresno Bee

05/18/07 05:08:42

Lydia Jen, a 22-year-old woman with the intellect of a child, often felt stuck in special-education classes growing up. But last Saturday, she was recognized at a Fresno City College ceremony for completing a program that might allow her to be called teacher.

Not a teacher in charge, but a teachers' aide in a special-education class. Jen earned a certificate for a special-ed aide's job from City College.

Whether any school can hire her is now the question. Should she get a job, Jen would be a trailblazer for someone with her level of disability, which was caused by genetic birth defects.

She did not earn a degree from City College, which holds commencement tonight. But college gave her hope -- and, perhaps, options.

Lydia Catherine Jen of Fresno has known the ache of loneliness on the school playground and disappointment from not getting a high school diploma. Her mother said Jen has the mental capacity of a 10- to 14-year-old. But sometimes she is remarkably mature.

"Maybe God wanted me to be like this," Jen said days before the ceremony. "Maybe he wanted to give me a chance to learn the hard way. Maybe to teach my own kids someday. Maybe to help students who are much lower than me."

Jen, one of 1,600 disabled students at City College, is what her counselor calls a developmentally delayed learner.

"It is the politically correct word for mentally retarded," said counselor Ed Lund.

Jen reads and writes, but abstract thinking is beyond her grasp, making math difficult for her. Composing an essay also is hard, as is memorization.

Jen's birth defect caused her to be born with holes in her heart.

She was 10 months old when she had her first heart surgery. Another followed when she was a toddler. She was a little girl when doctors operated to remove pieces of bone that gave her a protruding forehead.

The birth defect also left her with muddled speech. Years of therapy helped, and today she speaks more clearly, though there is a nasal quality to her voice.

Her father, Fernando Jen, said his daughter spoke little when she was younger. Now, he jokes, no one can get her to stop talking.

He and his wife, Nancy, met in Taiwan, where he was born and she served as a missionary. He came to Fresno to earn a master's degree at Fresno State, and they married.

Today, he teaches Chinese at Fresno's McLane High School and also at Fresno State. She is the chaplain at San Joaquin Gardens retirement complex in northeast Fresno. The Jens have two other children, a 21-year-old daughter and a 15-year-old son.

Lydia Jen went to Fresno schools. "I always got stuck in special ed," she said. "Other kids would stare at you, thinking you were retarded, just looking at you weird."

She longed to be in a regular classroom, and in fifth grade she joined one for a science unit on volcanoes.

"The teacher thought I was smart," Jen said, "but actually I was lost." Jen remembers talking to the students in that class.

" 'I'm Lydia. Would it be possible to join your group?' Some kids didn't want me. That's OK. I went to the next group and asked the same question."

She didn't like middle school. The work seemed repetitive, and she didn't make many friends. Fresno's Hoover High School wasn't much better.

She didn't take algebra -- a state graduation requirement -- so she didn't get a diploma. Instead, she was awarded a certificate of completion, which remains a sore point for her.

Nancy Jen blames herself for not being more pushy with school officials.

Doug Jones, Hoover's former principal and now assistant superintendent for special education and health services at Fresno Unified, said he doesn't know why Lydia Jen didn't take the math course, but the algebra requirement should have been discussed with her parents. He said some special-education students take and pass algebra.

Academics weren't her only challenge.

Finding friends has been a problem, too. Children like her gentleness, and older adults admire her sincerity. But she collects dolls and Disney movies, giving her little in common with many peers. A favorite pair of jeans are decorated with Tinker Bell and some of her favorite literary characters are the heroines in "The Secret Garden" and "A Little Princess."

"They like to make friends, and they're not shy," Jen said.

She talks to her mother about one day living in her own apartment, but the thought of being alone at night frightens her. So does the idea of getting behind the wheel of a car.

Nancy Jen urges her daughter to learn to drive when she complains about riding the city bus, but Lydia Jen said it would require too much memorization.

Her parents push independence as much as they can.

"I don't want her to sit at home and do nothing," Nancy Jen said. "I want her to have the satisfaction of being a productive citizen."

At City College during the last three years, Jen has taken classes for both disabled students and mainstream students -- earning a 3.0 grade-point average.

Jen took three courses to earn the aide certificate. For one of the classes, she spent 13 1/2 hours a week this semester at Hoover working with moderately to severely disabled students. She helped one boy with Down syndrome master a calculator, and she assisted a deaf girl with limited vision to get ready for a Special Olympics competition. Jen became a role model for at least one special-education student at Hoover.

"I looked at her and said, 'Maybe I can do that,' " said 18-year-old Ola Yarbrough.

Hoover special-education teacher Michele Carmichael, who helped supervise Jen, praises her attitude and work ethic. "Lydia is a bit of sunshine," she said. "Her heart is so big and true and honest."

Carmichael called Jen "very employable," but getting a job won't be easy.

Fresno, Clovis and Central unified school districts require all aides to have a high school diploma or a GED. Jen has neither.

The state doesn't keep track of how many special-education students become teachers' aides, nor do the Fresno, Clovis and Central districts. But Fresno Unified officials say former special-education students have been hired in the past.

Janice Emerzian, who oversees disabled student services at City College, estimates that 8% to 10% of teachers' aides in California have some kind of physical or learning disability, but few as severe as Jen's.

Four of the eight students who completed the college's aide-training program this semester are disabled, and two of those four are working in schools, Emerzian said.

City College counselor Lund said Jen's success in the program is an accomplishment -- and important for someone who's often been frustrated by school.

But there was a price to pay. City College courses this year cost $20 per unit; last year, they were $26 per unit. The aide-training courses totaled 10 units. Jen pays course fees and buys textbooks with earnings from a job in the dining center at San Joaquin Gardens, her mother said.

Her parents insist on this as a way of teaching self-reliance. Jen is learning the lesson: unsolicited, she gave her mother $100 on Mother's Day to help with gas. "Mom, you want me to be more responsible," she said.

Now she wants a job. Emerzian hopes something can be worked out so Jen can begin work as a substitute aide.

Nancy Jen tries to remain hopeful. But she sat down and cried when she learned a few weeks ago that another obstacle -- the lack of a high school diploma -- now lies before her daughter.

At the recognition ceremony, however, the frustrations of the past and the uncertainty of the future faded away for those few moments when Jen glided down a red carpet on the stage of the Tower Theatre.

She stopped first before City College President Ned Doffoney, who towered over the 5-foot-2 Jen. She took his outstretched hand and bowed slightly, doing the same as she shook hands with several other college officials along the red carpet.

As other students took their moment in the spotlight, Jen returned to her seat near the front of the theater. She sat upright, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. She cradled her face with her hands, her mouth forming a wide smile and her eyes glistening with an unmistakable emotion.

Joy.

The reporter can be reached at dhoagland@fresnobee.com or (559)441-6354.