Common Ground Named “Best Managed Nonprofit”

(from Crain's)

After being named a finalist in 2010 and receiving an honorable mention in 2004, Common Ground has been named Crain’s Best-Managed Nonprofit for 2014.

The 43-year old agency, which helps people going through emotional and/or mental health crises, is featured in the Dec. 1 edition of Crain’s Detroit Business.

CEO Tony Rothschild said he was thrilled that Common Ground has been recognized as a standout among its peers. He said he believes one of the reasons Common Ground won the honor is because of the innovative approaches it takes in providing services to the community.

“We’re not afraid to take risks,” he said as an example. “Sometimes you have to spend some money to develop an idea and not just wait for funding. If it’s a good idea, funding will come.”

The agency has big plans for the future—all focused on helping people move from crisis to hope. It has adopted a peer recovery coach model, where those who have had and recovered from mental illness help those currently in treatment. The model involves partnering with other organizations on a number of new and innovative projects. It also includes moving its crisis services to a state-of-the-art facility and plans for much more. 

Common Ground is a nonprofit agency dedicated to helping youths, adults and families in crisis.  The agency’s 24-hour Resource and Crisis Helpline (800-231-1127), youth and family services, emergency psychiatric services and other programs throughout Oakland and Genesee counties are a lifeline for runaway and homeless youth, families in crisis, victims of crime, people with mental illness and others in critical situations. The agency operates a budget of more than $12 million annually.
Jerry Wolffe is the writer-in-residence, advocate-at-large at the Macomb-Oakland Regional Center. He can be reached at (586) 263-8950.

MORC Players wow audience

By JERRY WOLFFE

Some 16 people with disabilities sang, danced and did improvisations in a performance that thrilled and brought happy tears to the eyes of some of their parents and an audience of about 100 at the Auburn Hills office of the Macomb-Oakland Regional Center.

It was an evening of joy and discovery of new talents.

The performance was the first time the “MORC Players” took the stage under sponsorship of The Futures Foundation, a nonprofit that raises funds to help those with disabilities, and guidance by Lou Fazzini, founder and executive director of All the World’s a Stage, Susan Scheuer, volunteer and board member and Mary Ellen Renne, another volunteer.

Parent Donna Raphael said the show Tuesday night (Dec. 2) meant “so much to our family and daughter whose one request was to be in an acting troupe. We were thrilled by her performance.” Daughter Lindsay said, “I loved singing and made new friends.”

The actors and actresses began practicing for the show about 12 weeks ago, said Teri Donaldson, the executive director of The Futures Foundation. She was in the front of the room with the performers encouraging them by repeatedly saying: “You can do it” as they sang or danced on the ‘stage.’

“We try to teach people to step out of their comfort zone and not give up,” said Fazzini. “This program was about giving everyone a voice.”

Actor Yuri Goga, 28, of Waterford said, “I learned to mime for the first time. I liked having my voice to be on stage.”

He was referring to when Scheuer began the show by standing in front of the troupe and moved her body and the MORC Players mimicked her motions. At one point with arms outstretched to her sides, she reached straight up to the ceiling and then over her head, creating a circle like the world or a new dawn and everyone did the same in a heart-warming moment that symbolically showed the spirit of those with disabilities can’t be limited.

Fazzini said theater is a universal art form and “can be for any level” of ability. “It’s just about doing things. We taught the actors and actresses how to use their voices, bodies and motion to express themselves.”

MORC vocational specialist Kristie Persyn of Macomb Township said the performance “made the actors and actresses feel special and boosted their self-esteem.”

“I think it gives our people the chance to shine in a different way,” said Support Coordinator Supervisor Sue Gipperich. “It shows they are individuals and can get up there and strut their talents and show they are as good as anyone else.”

At one point, everyone sang along with a recording of the late Karen Carpenter’s “Sing, Sing a Song.” Not one performer worried his or her “singing wasn’t good enough for everybody else to hear” as they moved, each in his or her own way, to the song’s rhythm.

Alicia Young of Waterford said it was “so much fun and we worked so hard.” Her friend and fellow actress, Nadeen Spivey of Rochester Hills, said: “I made new friends, too, and liked best interacting with the others.”

Kelly Knighton of Clarkston summed up the experience for the actors and actresses who had fun and ventured where they had not gone before.

“I had stage fright, but I hung in there and got back up and did my thing. I loved the performance.”

And perhaps that is the key to life and finding happiness: Getting back up and doing your thing with all your heart.
Jerry Wolffe is the writer-in-residence, advocate-at-large at the Macomb-Oakland Regional Center. He can be reached at (586) 63-8950.

Memories of special Thanksgiving parade for special children

By JERRY WOLFFE

When I was a child attending an orthopedic in downtown Detroit, my dear mother would wake me and my younger sisters, Rene and Nancy, before dawn and get us dressed up to go watch the then Hudson’s Thanksgiving Day parade.

For myself and the 180 or so other kids with disabilities at Leland School for Crippled Children, it was a really special and unforgettable day.

We’d dress up warm in snowsuits and wait anxiously for the yellow bus that said “Leland” on the side to turn down our street on Detroit’s northeast side.

We’d climb on the bus with the other children with disabilities and their parents and the bus would take us down to Woodward near the former J.L. Hudson’s building. The building had the world’s largest flag on its side. It was several stories high and looked especially immense to a young child who was all excited about seeing Santa.

We’d stay in the bus once we got to the end of the parade route and we had a spectacularly close view of the floats.

They would start coming our way as we heard bands playing Christmas music. The floats were gigantic. They were colorful. The people on them were dressed in fancy outfits, clowns, elves and the floats would come one after the other for what seemed like forever. We didn’t mind because we all knew that sooner or later Santa Claus would come.

The clowns would carry giant balloons or cartoon characters. I would always wait for my late Uncle Tom Opatich who worked as Hudson’s. But at Thanksgiving he would turn into a clown and volunteer to be part of the parade. He would get all of the other clowns to come on our bus and give us big hugs because we were the special children with disabilities who were receiving loving treatment from great souls on a wonderful day.

My sisters always thought it was cool that their big brother went to an orthopedic school because they got to go with him and our mother, Carol who died this past June at 98, to the Thanksgiving Day parade for a special treat.

When we started hearing “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” we’d really get excited because Santa would jump off of his red sleigh and leave all the reindeer, including Rudolph, Dancer, and Prancer behind, and hop up the three steps of our bus and go down the aisle and ask:

“Have every one of you children been good boys and girls this year?” And we’d scream back in unison: “We sure have Santa.”

And then Santa would ask what we wanted for Christmas. Most of the time I wanted a bow and arrow or chess set. My sisters told Santa they wanted dolls or clothes and mother would say she didn’t need anything as long as her children were happy.

And after a few minutes, Santa would climb off the bus and go back and hop on his sleigh and welcome the tens of thousands who came to downtown Detroit in the 1950s to watch the Thanksgiving Day parade.

Our bus would wait a while until traffic of maybe a million people would clear out and then the bus would make its way back to drop each of us off at our homes.

There never was one tear about not being able to walk or talk or having to wear braces because we, the students, had a disability. We were special and we knew it. We had just received the hearts of many generous clowns and a special hug from Santa that upon looking back now at age 68, lasted a lifetime.

Jerry Wolffe is the Writer-in-Residence and Advocate-at-Large at the Macomb-Oakland Regional Center. He can be reached at 586-263-8950.

By JERRY WOLFFE

Special to Digital First Media

Memories of special Thanksgiving parade for special children

When I was a child attending an orthopedic in downtown Detroit, my dear mother would wake me and my younger sisters, Rene and Nancy, before dawn and get us dressed up to go watch the then Hudson’s Thanksgiving Day parade.

For myself and the 180 or so other kids with disabilities at Leland School for Crippled Children, it was a really special and unforgettable day.

We’d dress up warm in snowsuits and wait anxiously for the yellow bus that said “Leland” on the side to turn down our street on Detroit’s northeast side.

We’d climb on the bus with the other children with disabilities and their parents and the bus would take us down to Woodward near the former J.L. Hudson’s building. The building had the world’s largest flag on its side. It was several stories high and looked especially immense to a young child who was all excited about seeing Santa.

We’d stay in the bus once we got to the end of the parade route and we had a spectacularly close view of the floats.

They would start coming our way as we heard bands playing Christmas music. The floats were gigantic. They were colorful. The people on them were dressed in fancy outfits, clowns, elves and the floats would come one after the other for what seemed like forever. We didn’t mind because we all knew that sooner or later Santa Claus would come.

The clowns would carry giant balloons or cartoon characters. I would always wait for my late Uncle Tom Opatich who worked as Hudson’s. But at Thanksgiving he would turn into a clown and volunteer to be part of the parade. He would get all of the other clowns to come on our bus and give us big hugs because we were the special children with disabilities who were receiving loving treatment from great souls on a wonderful day.

My sisters always thought it was cool that their big brother went to an orthopedic school because they got to go with him and our mother, Carol who died this past June at 98, to the Thanksgiving Day parade for a special treat.

When we started hearing “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” we’d really get excited because Santa would jump off of his red sleigh and leave all the reindeer, including Rudolph, Dancer, and Prancer behind, and hop up the three steps of our bus and go down the aisle and ask:

“Have every one of you children been good boys and girls this year?” And we’d scream back in unison: “We sure have Santa.”

And then Santa would ask what we wanted for Christmas. Most of the time I wanted a bow and arrow or chess set. My sisters told Santa they wanted dolls or clothes and mother would say she didn’t need anything as long as her children were happy.

And after a few minutes, Santa would climb off the bus and go back and hop on his sleigh and welcome the tens of thousands who came to downtown Detroit in the 1950s to watch the Thanksgiving Day parade.

Our bus would wait a while until traffic of maybe a million people would clear out and then the bus would make its way back to drop each of us off at our homes.

There never was one tear about not being able to walk or talk or having to wear braces because we, the students, had a disability. We were special and we knew it. We had just received the hearts of many generous clowns and a special hug from Santa that upon looking back now at age 68, lasted a lifetime.

Jerry Wolffe is the Writer-in-Residence and Advocate-at-Large at the Macomb-Oakland Regional Center. He can be reached at 586-263-8950.

SCAMP to stay open despite cuts

By JERRY WOLFFE

Special to The Oakland Press

Children and young adults with disabilities will continue to enjoy summer camp, known as SCAMP, despite funding cutbacks for the program by state lawmakers.

“We do not intend to ever close down Clarkston SCAMP despite any potential cutbacks in state funding,” said Tina Collins, executive director of North Oakland SCAMP Funding Corp.

“We have about 200 youths and young adults with disabilities who attend our summer sessions,” she said Thursday in response to 2014-15 funding cuts to nonprofits that support the camps.

SCAMP, which starts the last week of June and goes to the end of July, costs $1,200 per student. “However, no child is ever turned away for financial reasons to attend the summer camp,” Collins said.

Sessions are held three times a week for five weeks. Activities include arts and crafts, swimming, boating, fishing, hiking, games, field trips, music and picnics, she said. “The curriculum concentrates on developing a positive self-image, improving social interaction and developing and improving motor skills.

“We also have several onsite visits from entertainment groups that are part of our normal activities,” Collins said.

“Our campers come from the general Clarkston area as well as Avondale, Brandon Township, Holly, Huron Valley, Lake Orion, Oxford, Pontiac, Rochester, Waterford and Grand Blanc in southern Genesee County, she said.

SCAMP, a nonprofit started in 1976, has the mission to provide funding for a summer camp program offering fun and social and recreational opportunities for youth adults and children who are disabled.

SCAMP works in conjunction with the Clarkston School District which “lets us use one of its elementary schools for our activities.”

Collins also said we have a lot of support in the community from businesses, residents, chambers of commerce, the Knights of Columbus and other entities in the region.

Jerry Wolffe is the writer-in-residence, advocate-at-large at the Macomb-Oakland Regional Center. He can be reached at (586) 263-8950.