Sitting around a table in the dining room at The Hampton in
Tumwater, Washington, preschoolers, their teachers, and Alzheimer’s
residents paint with watercolor. Rano, a student, says, “Excuse
me,” to get some attention. “Paint me a purple horse,” Rano says to
resident Sally D. Sally’s painting looks very much like Rano’s.
There are several brush stokes of different colors of paint – no
recognizable forms. Kara Lawrence, the preschool assistant, paints
a purple horse for Rano.
Kristina Christenson, Preschool Supervisor, who has worked with
elderly residents of care facilities and preschool students, says,
“When they watercolor, they are of the same mind.”
Christene Fujiwara, Administrator of The Hampton Alzheimer’s Special
Care Center for the past five years, works to make the facility more
home-like. Like many other administrators, she brings in pets. But
as far as she knows, she is unique in operating a preschool in a
stand-alone Alzheimer’s unit. “We’re ahead of our time,” Fujiwara
says.
“The preschool doesn’t have to be a money maker,” she says. “It’s
here to give more life to the residents.” Conversely, there are
many benefits for the preschoolers. Children, who are not always
able to be around their grandparents or great grandparents, can
participate in The Hampton intergenerational activities. The
building has security in place to prevent residents and students
from exiting the facility without an escort. A nurse is always on
duty. Lots of eyes are on residents, students and staff. When
Fujiwara meets with family members of both prospective students and
residents she stresses these benefits.
The mother of preschooler Brandon drives up to the outside of The
Hampton at 7:45 am. She enters four digits on a keypad to
electronically unlock the door of the facility. After Brandon’s mom
signs him in and says her goodbyes, he follows his teacher out of
the preschool room. “Hello Sally,” Brandon says to a resident. He
holds on to her walker as they walk together to the dining room to
get something to eat.
One joint activity between the residents and students is music and
games. Residents make a circle around the students. Songs play from
a boom box and the children move within the circle singing and
making motions to nursery rhymes like “Itsy Bitsy Spider,” “Farmer
in the Dell,” and “Hokey Pokey.” The preschool teacher tells the
students to be careful when they swing out too close to the
encircling residents.
Arlene R., a resident, follows the “Hokey Pokey” rhyme instruction
of “you put your left hand in” and sings along. “They’re jumping up
and down and they’re tickled pink,” says Ruby C., another resident.
Margaret T., a resident in her 80s who looks 60, says, “I don’t do
much with the children. I like to watch them. I don’t even know
how old I am.”
Both young and old need to expend energy. The Hampton has an indoor
and outdoor circular walking route. Alzheimer’s sufferers find
comfort in performing repetitive actions like walking. Students
benefit too. Lawrence holds a student’s hand and quickly walks with
him. “He likes to throw his fits so we take a walk,” she says.
Preschool staff presents options to a student to redirect them to
another choice when they exhibit undesirable behavior rather than
just saying, “No.” They see caregivers doing this with the
Alzheimer’s residents too.
During a two-hour spa activity Dotty Davis-Walsh, Life Enrichment
Director, has residents soak their hands in a see-through plastic
container of warm, soapy water. Rocks and shells lie on the bottom
to encourage exploration and longer soaking. Parents of a
preschooler use a similar method of placing bath toys in a bathtub
to encourage children to extend their soaking time.
The spa activity is disturbed when Bill W., a resident, enters the
room. “Get these people out of here,” he says. He thinks that the
table that they are sitting around is his. Davis-Walsh asks a
caregiver to direct him out and tell him that she needs five minutes
to clear the table.
Davis-Walsh uses redirection to interrupt unwanted behavior.
Sometimes she emulates what a parent might do–offer food to entice a
change of behavior. She keeps three dozen donut holes – chocolate
and glazed – on hand. “If you promise coffee and donuts you better
deliver,” she says.
For the noon meal, the preschoolers eat first at the child-sized
table. They are served the same food that the residents are. While
they are eating, residents get seated and a nurse dispenses
medication to them prior to their meal.
Caregivers offer to help residents that are unable to cut their
food. Several residents wear towel-sized bibs. “This is called a
shirt-saver and I’ve got it on,” says Arlene, pointing at her bib.
When residents get up to leave
their table, those that use walkers search for theirs. Arlene
attempts to take another person’s walker. Diana Warren, a
caregiver, intervenes. “This is Juanita’s. Yours is green; hers is
blue.” Warren playfully refers to the walkers as automobiles.
Arlene’s is new and fancy and she calls it a “Cadillac.” To a
resident nearby she refers to his as a “Ford truck.”
In the early afternoon, the
preschoolers sleep on mats on the floor of their room. The room has
windows on three sides so during naptime, shades are pulled down to
darken it. The rest of the time, the shades are up and people can
observe the children through the windows. Residents notice when the
children are gone. During the week the Preschool had off for the
Christmas holiday, residents kept asking caregivers where the
children were.
Afternoon activities include
playing with Play-Doh. One resident sits at the table with the
students but doesn’t appear to notice them. She is in the late
stages of Alzheimer’s and has limited physical movement. “We don’t
give Play-Doh to residents, especially if it’s cut with a cookie
cutter. They might eat it,” Lawrence says. “A child under two and
one-half might do that too.” Rano, rolling out and cutting her
dough, says, “I’m making lunch – strawberry vanilla,” and laughs. A
resident wanders in looking out of sorts. “Are we being noisy?”
Lawrence says. “It’s a fun noise though.”
Preschoolers deliver mail to the
residents late in the afternoon. Morgan happily hands the envelope
to a resident but doesn’t want to stick around while Lawrence helps
them open the mail and read it.
Lawrence hands Jason an envelope
to give to Sally. “She’s a pistol. That’s why they get along so
well. They don’t see her as an old lady,” she says. “You’re my
favorite kids in the world,” Sally says. Jason hands the envelope
to Sally. “Can I give you a kiss,” she says. “No,” Jason says. The
caregiver suggests that Sally blow him a kiss.
Diane Guthrie is the daughter of
Hampton resident Arlene R. She is a freelance writer and
videographer who lives in Carnation, Washington, 25 miles east of
Seattle. She specializes in recording oral histories and writing
articles about non-profit organizations and artists.
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