The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

8- PORT PERRY STAR - Tuesday, Sept. 27, 1994 By Jeff Mitchell Port Perry Star Ween JUNE'S young son raised his hand against her for the first time, she knew they had reached a new stage in their ongoing struggle. She had been dealing for weeks with ever-escalating negative behavior as her son, Nathan, took out his numerous frustrations on his family. | "At one point, he raised his fist to me," she says of the confrontation last Christmas. "He thought better of it, I guess, but you could see he wanted to hit me." Nathan, just 12, is now living in a group home where he is receiving counselling for the anger that tears him apart sometimes. His brother Timmy, 11, lives at home with Mom. Their birth mother, from whose care they were taken when they were little boys, drank when she was pregnant; the boys have been diagnosed as displaying the symptoms a dressed, slowly. Timmy, the extrovert, grew more clinging and excitable; his older brother was quiet and awkward, an easy target for bullies and manipulative older kids. "They were very delayed in every area of normal development,"June says. She and Bill were anticipating a challenge when they adopted two kids from a troubled home. But she thinks the Children's Aid Society should have told them more about the mother's drinking, and the possibility the boys would display some of the trademark symptoms of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (FAS). "When we adopted the boys the CAS, I don't think, were very responsible. Although they told us some history, they didn't educate us to Fetal Alcohol Syndrome or Fetal Alcohol Affects." Nathan and Timmy display Fetal Alcohol Affects (FAAs), said June: "FAAs are of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. Ir WAS SEVEN years ago that June and her husband Bill -- their names have been changed -- unable to have children, decided to E much more subtle, but it's pretty devastating in a child's development," she said. "They didn't really make sure we knew what we Were getting in for... "There was nothing, really, adopt. They discovered Nathan, five at the time, and his little brother, a year younger, and made the commitment to take them into their lives. They knew the boys had been taken from their mother's care, and had lived in several foster homes before coming to them. But they were unprepared for the effects her drinking would have on her children. "They had problems already," June recalls. "They were shy and insecure. They didn't have very good social or coping skills." Timmy was unable to form words. He verbalized plenty, when he wanted to; but he was incapable of pronouncing the vowels and consonants. His inability to communicate often led to frustration, which resulted in raging tantrums. Nathan tended to be quieter, moody and taciturn. He turned inward when he felt stress, and there were often flare-ups from Timmy that would reverberate through the entire household. June, FRUSTRATED would raise her voice as Timmy carried on. Bill, who was raised in an "extremely abusive" family setting, would get uptight and tell June she reminded him of his mother... not a compliment. Still, they settled in to make a home for themselves, raising up their kids at a housing co-operative in Scarborough. After a couple of years, they moved the the country, choosing Scugog Township. As the boys grew, their problems became more pronounced. They were often sick, usually with ear infections and the like. They caught on to daily routines, like getting out of bed and to prepare us for a lifetime of difficulties." (14 It REALLY IS like sitting on a ticking time bomb," says Marian Cook, a Blackstock resident who represents Motherisk, a drug and alcohol counselling centre for expectant mothers administered by Sick Children's Hospital in Toronto. "As soon as they hit puberty, they are going to explode." "The children often become violent because they can't control their rage." Mrs. Cook is sufficiently concerned by the impact of FAS to have begun a charity, under the auspices of Motherisk, to raise funds for research, diagnosis and treatment. Without help, many children with FAS and FAA are on a one-way trip nowhere, she says. Many land in trouble, in jail or pregnant in their teens. The syndrome manifests itself in many ways, although there are a number of common characteristics among acute cases, says Mrs. Cook. Often in the past, behavior or health problems have been chalked up to other causes, or dismissed. "Now I realize I saw dozens of these children and didn't know it," she says. Mrs. Cook's dream is to start the charity and raise enough funds for Sick Kids to hire a program facilitator. Eventually, centres should be established to deal with FAS children, and to give their often weary parents respite. Marian Cook is starting her effort here at home in Scugog, where she'll begin by approaching local business and industry for corporate donations. "I want them to become involved as founding sponsors," she said. "I want Port Perry to feel they own this." "We need a place where children can receive treatment, evaluation and a program unique for them," she says. "Because in fact, every FAS child is different. They have to be treated as unique individuals." "These are innocent victims." Tux TRAGEDY of FAS is that it is incurable, expensive, common, and 100 per cent preventable. If a woman does not drink or take drugs during the term of her pregnancy, her child will be born free of FAS or FAA. But the world-wide incidence of FAS has been estimated at one child in 500 births, or 1.9 in every thousand. The only intensive demographic research in Canada has been carried out in isolated communities in Yukon and British Columbia, where rates were shown to be much higher than average. It knows no social or cultural bounds; any fetus is sus ceptible. And it is expensive: Statistics in literature provided by the YWCA indicate that each child disease," said Mrs. Cook. Lire WENT ON for June and her family until Bill, "unable to cope any longer, made the decision to leave. He and June sat down with the kids to explain things; Timmy reacted badly. Nathan withdrew completely, sitting silently and staring off as though in a daze. He would keep a lid on the boiling emotions he felt for a long time; but eventually -- inevitably -- they would emerge. Nathan had trouble at school from the outset. He fared well at the things that came easily, but would become frustrated and upset when he was forced to apply himself to something he found difficult. June, as any parent would, pushed the boy to try harder. But he simply didn't want to. During the last school year, after Nathan transferred from the small school he'd attended since Grade 1 to a larger school, the problems intensified. Nathan would go out of his way to avoid homework, lying to his mother and saying he born with FAS will require at least $1 million worth of medical assessments and treatment, and other special needs. Birth defects are common, and younger 1 hadn't any. At school, when he was offered time with a tutor for | one-on-one {| studies, he | would lie too, saying he couldn't attend sessions because of doctor's appointments or {some other | excuse. As his children show signs of delayed development. They are prone to poor coordination, lower than average 1Q, hyperactivity and attention problems. As they age the kids can become unpredictable and impulsive, often not considering in advance the consequences of their actions. Their moods can range from depressed to aggressive to suicidal. They can be withdrawn and shy, and subject to manipulation by their peers. An enormous victory in the battle against FAS would be, simply, a concerted and effective education campaign. "We can eventually get rid of it, because it's an entirely preventable academic performance hit the skids, he began acting out more, playing the fool to gain approval from his classmates. His teachers, who had launched several initiatives to get him to perform, admitted to June they simply didn't know what to do next for the boy. "He had just stopped trying," says June. At Christmas time last year, it appeared there was no way Nathan would pass Grade 7. And the accumulated anger he felt -- at his father leaving, at bombing out in school, at failing socially -- surfaced violently. CONTINUED NEXT PAGE