Parents Make People...

by Debra Gwartney, Photography by Jack Liu

ot long ago, walking the aisles of my neighborhood grocery store, I noticed a young woman ahead of me becoming increasingly frustrated with her child. The girl, maybe two years old, with brown curly hair and a smear of chocolate or peanut butter across her face, squirmed in the front seat of the grocery cart, surrounded by her coat, a few soft toys, and a carton of milk. She wriggled to get free and wailed while holding her sticky hands out to her mother. The mother’s own hands tightened around the cart handle. "Stop that. Don’t," she said. The child continued to cry. "You know what?" I heard the mother say as she grabbed the girl’s shoulders and straightened her in the seat. "I don’t like you when you act like this."

Crecer participant Rosa Mendoza and her son Isaac

It’s never easy to witness altercations between exhausted parents and willful children, but on this day I found it particularly hard because I’d just come from a gathering of mothers and babies held once a week at a Springfield community center. Many of those mothers struggle with limited incomes, inadequate housing, fruitless job searches— yet during the hours of their Crecer parent-education meeting, sponsored by Eugene’s Birth To Three organization, I’d noticed a palpable sense of relief and communion. Sitting in a circle of chairs, the mothers, led by parent educator Thelma Barone, shared frustrations over managing toddlers and households and a strange culture, as these families were mostly new to the United States. They encouraged and teased each other, laughed abundantly, and reached out to touch and hold each other’s children wandering through the grown-up sea of legs.

The Crecer group (it roughly translates to "growing up") for Spanish-speaking mothers is one of many opportunities for parents offered by Birth To Three, which provides support and education services to 7,000 Lane County families each year. The aim of the organization is to help men and women become more constructive, enlightened parents. Birth To Three educators emphasize that most parents know better than anyone else what’s best for their own children but sometimes need help to identify and follow their best instincts. Groups give adults the chance to talk openly about the challenges and loneliness of being mothers and fathers and to celebrate the rewards of those roles.

"Birth To Three works well because it was formed straight out of the needs of parents," says Executive Director Minalee Saks. "In the beginning, we talked to many parents and found out what they needed and then developed programs based not on theory so much, but out of practical, hands-on experience."

And that’s been to the good of thousands of children. Though Birth To Three focuses on parents, it has become a recognized center of child abuse prevention. The U.S. Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention rates the organization among the top twenty-five programs in the nation for preventing child abuse. As Saks points out, the primary beneficiary of healthy parenting is the child. "We are promoting the well-being of children with every class," she says.

Decades of child development research strongly indicates that parental bonding and nurturing during the early years of life are crucial for a sense of safety and confidence, says UO Psychology Professor Mary Rothbart. Children caught in cycles of their parents’ tension and punishment are more likely to engage in violence or self-loathing later, particularly in adolescence. "It’s very important that children be loved and protected and responded to," Rothbart says. "It makes so much more sense to avoid problems by starting early and letting those first relationships thrive."

aks herself swam hard to keep her head above water after the birth of her first child. She was new to Eugene, away from extended family, and yearning for companionship with other young moms. One day in 1977 she received a serendipitous invitation to join an infant temperament study at the UO headed by Professor Rothbart. Lonely for company and eager for the twenty-five dollar payment, Saks allowed researchers Andi Fischhoff, pregnant at that time, and Sue Kelly, the mother of four children, into her home for a nine-month period to study interactions between her and her infant. The three women opened up with each other to discuss what nobody else was saying: Motherhood can be isolating and draining, as infants, then toddlers, demand 100 percent attention, leaving little energy for anyone or anything else. "We talked a lot about how our culture is one in which people don’t live near family so much anymore, nor do we tend to know our neighbors well," Saks says. "There’s no one to turn to for help or support or to ask questions about parenting."

UO Psychology Professor Mary Rothbart.

When that research project ended, the three moms explored the possibilities for a parent support organization. They spent a year meeting with public health nurses, asking parents about specific needs and desires, and reading books about structuring groups. "What was confirmed for us during that time is that a lot of couples get support during pregnancy and delivery," Saks says. "They get support again when their children enter preschool and they become part of a parent community. But there’s nothing in the middle. Just a black hole between hospital and school."

Filling that hole became the goal of the Saks-Fischhoff-Kelly initiative, which they aptly named Birth To Three.

In the early years, groups met in family homes, where moms—and increasingly dads—spread out around living rooms while toddlers wandered through for kisses and snacks and infants slept or nursed. A parent educator suggested topics for discussion and kept the adults on track, leading the weekly group for several months. Once this formal structure ended, many groups continued to meet, so close had the bonds become. In fact, the first bunch of Birth To Three parents and kids who began meeting in 1978 still gets together fairly regularly for potlucks, picnics, and reunions. And at least one of those original Birth To Three babies is now a Birth To Three parent.

"It’s been the most amazing community builder," Saks says. "There aren’t a lot of ways for parents to truly be there for each other. But in these groups, when a family has a crisis, the others are there. They’ve become like family."

As a young dad in 1983, UO Psychology Professor Tom Dishion found out about Birth To Three from Sacred Heart Hospital. Dishion and his wife began taking their infant son to a support group in their neighborhood. Even though Dishion was training at the time as a clinical child psychologist, the group added a needed dimension to his own experience as a parent. "As a first-time parent, I found it extremely valuable," Dishion says now. "Especially the connection I found with other fathers. We talked about the stresses of parenthood, we talked about sleep deprivation, we talked about whatever we needed to talk about."

After the ten-month official session was finished, Dishion’s group stayed together. "We’d become very close," he says. In subsequent years, the families clung to each other through difficult times, including the deaths of several parents and one child. "When you are involved in such events, you come to realize how precious your own family life is," he says. "It gets you out of your skin a little bit so you can become more deeply connected with others."

hat connection is vital for new parents, says Rothbart, whose research concentrates on infant development. Birth To Three’s first board member, Rothbart continues to be active in the organization. Currently she’s heading an intensive academic review process that will allow the organization to more widely sell its parent education curriculum. (Dishion and several other UO professors are also on the review committee.) Birth To Three’s Make Parenting a Pleasure (MPAP) curriculum is already being used at 400 sites in the United States and in countries as far away as Romania.

Crecer mother Nancy Aviles

Rothbart says that from the beginning, when she heard about the idea from "those three energetic mothers," she considered Birth To Three a strong resource for the community. "And what they offer ties in in important ways to what we’re finding in our research about child development."

That research, she says, has changed thinking about the skills and preparation required to help babies become social and learning children. "We used to think that the chief duty of the parent was to keep everything clean for the infant," she explains. "But the information now leans toward the importance of reading to your child, talking to your child, interacting with your child. Birth To Three gives parents a chance to see how others are doing these things.

"It’s especially critical, Rothbart adds, that parents discover in support groups that there isn’t just one kind of infant or toddler. "How active they are, how positive in disposition, how easily they get distressed—each child is different. A wonderful by-product of Birth To Three is that not only do parents get a shared view of child raising, but they also get to see the wide variability of other infants in the room."

Over the years, Rothbart has watched Birth To Three become a "powerful social system." She believes that the organization works both because a heterogeneous group of parents learn from each other—a much more acceptable kind of learning than what might come from an "authority"—and because the facilitators are parents, there to share rather than dispense orders. "This isn’t someone lecturing someone else," she says. "It’s a person whose goals for raising her child are the same as yours."

Dishion, whose research involves adolescents, confirms that the benefits of creating a network early in a child’s life extend to the teenage years. He credits Birth To Three for cutting through the societal tendency to stay isolated, which many parents fall into. "Growing a healthy person requires a stable set of relationships," he says. "Teenagers need that network of support."

early twenty-five years after the first moms and dads and babies began supporting each other, Birth To Three has become a major provider of parent education and support. The organization has an annual budget of more than $1 million, which comes primarily from government grants and private fundraising. Every day is filled with support groups, classes, and discussions.

At the heart of Birth To Three are basic classes covering the early years of a child’s life—Incredible Infants, Wonderful Ones, Terrific Twos—led by a parent educator and open to the entire community, for a small fee based on family income. More recently developed workshops— Crecer and Make Parenting a Pleasure among them—help families facing more than a normal load of stress and are free to participants. In addition to classes and workshops, the "Warmline" phone service offers answers to parenting questions and a bimonthly newsletter provides advice and lists resources for parents.

On a recent sunny morning, a Wonderful Ones group is going full gear in Birth To Three’s building on Centennial Loop in Eugene. Moms settle in, chatting with each other while their toddling babies wander between the discussion room and the playroom, which is filled with about every toy that could delight a child and staffed with experienced caregivers. The door between the two rooms remains open, explains parent educator Paula Levinrad, so children can come in for a "mommy hit," snuggling in her lap for a few minutes of security before returning to play. "We want the children to learn security while they’re here," she says.

This day’s topic involves "upsets," and the formal meeting begins with the nine moms each telling about a time when her child took her "to the edge." After that, Levinrad reminds the mothers that adults have many ways to deal with such frustrations, but that "it’s awfully hard to be one year old and not be understood." As if to illustrate the point, a little guy in the middle of the room begins to sob for no apparent reason and collapses into his mother’s chest when she reaches out to console him.

The discussion progresses to helping a child achieve independence. "We’re so busy making them feel loved that we forget to help them feel competent," Levinrad says, advising mothers to "let them try on their own—stand back a little." A muttering around the room indicates that it’s often hard for moms of one-year-olds to take this first step of letting go. "As infants, you gave them what they needed immediately so they learned to trust," Levinrad encourages. "Now give them a chance to try."

As the morning goes on, Levinrad moves the conversation around to the kinds of messages mothers give their children, sometimes unconsciously. "Body language speaks louder than words," she warns. "Working on yourself, keeping yourself happy and satisfied, is the best thing you can do to help your baby."

Parent educator Thelma Barone with Isaac Navarro.

A recent evening class of the Make Parenting a Pleasure program, held at a Springfield elementary school, has a harder edge to it than the Wonderful Ones session. Several parents sitting in tiny chairs in the school’s library— with their children safely tucked away in the childcare room down the hall— resist the idea of examining their parenting styles, insisting that reactions like spanking and shouting are "the way it’s always been done in my family." The parent educator, Claire Demo, doesn’t flinch under the resistance, but offers positive examples to help the four moms and one dad— who all appear beyond exhausted— find new methods of interacting with their children. In fact, the arguing, Demo says later, is part of the process for many parents. "Maybe they’re not quite ready to understand why it’s best not to shout at a child, but they’re coming to the meetings to get a break and to be with other parents, and that’s a great start."

The most productive moment of the evening comes when one mother describes a breakthrough with her children, who refused to go to bed at night. She used advice received in an earlier MPAP class, including keeping her voice calm and free of judgment, when she talked to her kids about bedtime. She also pointed out "natural consequences," reminding her girls that if they weren’t rested they’d be grouchy, and then she wouldn’t be able to take them to the library the next day to check out books. She offers such a positive approach to the problem that the other parents in the room lean in—and really listen.

"Sometimes I hear things that make my jaw drop," Demo says. "And before I can respond, another parent steps in and offers a different point of view and I’m reminded that advice is sometimes easier to take from another mom or dad and that I’m there to facilitate."

After this evening meeting adjourns, the men and women who’ve been caring for the children down the hall join with Demo and UO intern Robin Hill. The group sits around a library table to discuss how each child is faring and which families might need a midweek check-in. Demo carefully writes notes and confirms that she’ll be in touch with the parents who might need an extra dose of support.

"It’s a wonderful feeling to help these families through struggles," Hill says. The mother of two boys, Hill is nearly finished with her bachelor’s degree and has been an intern in four different Birth To Three programs. "I’ve enjoyed the group process," she says. "And especially the nonthreatening atmosphere."

It’s this atmosphere of support and fellowship that keeps Birth To Three such a comfortable place, even after tremendous growth over the past decade. Of the 2,000 or so parents enrolled every year in a Birth To Three class, most everyone feels welcomed and respected. I see that at the Crecer group in Springfield, where I sit with my back against the wall and listen for nearly two hours to a language I don’t speak. Though I fail to comprehend a single sentence, I understand everything that happens this sunny afternoon. Mothers who are struggling to live in a new place and a new culture have come together to offer essential sustenance to each other, and in this brief time together the women are open and happy. They laugh and hug each other often. Thelma Barone, their parent educator, offers encouragement and support. And it’s clear that their children—building with blocks and painting pictures toddling in from the other room, and climbing on their mothers—are thriving.

Debra Gwartney is a Eugene writer and an instructor in the UO’s Creative Writing Program. Her last feature for Oregon Quarterly was "Homes for the Soul" (Autumn 2000).

For more information about Birth To Three, call (541) 484-5316 or visit its website at www.birthto3.org.