Toy cars give kids with disabilities freedom to move

Ellie Stafford stared up questioningly at the adults, all grinning expectantly in a circle around her.

A Willamette Education Service District clinician tapped the large, red button before her, sending the purple, ride-on toy car revving into jerky motion.

Ellie pondered the red button attached on the steering wheel, and gave it a tap, her face focused, her tongue sticking out. The next second, she was off, riding in circles around the carpeted WESD conference room. Her father and staffers chased after her, recording the moment on their cameras and attempting to help Ellie, 2, steer the car away from obstacles. She pushed their assistance away, determined to stay in control.

Ellie's face lit up, and onlookers clapped. The car came to an abrupt stop. Ellie had removed her hands from the activation switch to join the applause.

Ellie has Down syndrome, and she can't yet walk or crawl. She scoots on her bottom to get around, but this modified car will give her the ability to keep up with her 6- and 8-year-old brothers, their father, Jesse Stafford said.

Oregon State University on Wednesday trained a group of WESD clinicians to modify toy cars using plastic pipes, plastic foam swim noodles, kick boards, fabric fasteners and an activation switch to allow children with mobility challenges to socialize and play with more independence.

At the end of the day, 10 children receiving services from WESD arrived to test drive the cars and take them home. Once the kids outgrow the cars, they will be returned to WESD for the next children.

The program, called Go Baby Go, was first founded at the University of Delaware, where OSU assistant professor Sam Logan was a researcher. When Logan was hired at OSU, he established the program at the College of Public Health and Human Services. Since September, he has given nine trainings in Oregon and nationwide.

The children who benefit from Go Baby Go have widely ranging diagnoses, including Down syndrome, spina bifida and cerebral palsy.

The gap that Go Baby Go fills is the lack of commercial, powered wheelchairs available for children younger than 3 years old, Logan said. The wheelchairs that accommodate the youngest children cost $30,000, Logan said, and insurance policies don't always cover the cost.

For example, children with Down syndrome learn to walk by around age 2, Logan said, so insurance typically won't cover a wheelchair for them. But in the meantime, they lose out on all the developmental benefits that come with actively exploring their world.

The total cost of Go Baby Go cars is $200.

The kick boards provide neck and head support, while the pipe and swim noodle pieces secure the kids in their seats. The foot pedals are rerouted so that the cars can be activated through the large round button on the steering wheel.

From there, the cars are further modified to meet children's individual needs.

Libbi Cotter, 2, for example, is always connected to an oxygen tank. Her car now has been modified to haul the tank behind her, secured with fabric fasteners.

Libbi, who was adopted from China a year ago, has a congenital heart defect, said her father, Mark. She has only begun crawling two or three months ago, he said.

"She's obviously really delayed," Cotter said. "Any milestone is huge. Crawling was huge. Seeing her being able to move around and control where she goes is awesome. I think she's going to love it."

Logan said the program positively impacts the children on many levels. Research at the University of Delaware has shown that children with access to the modified cars experienced improved cognitive, language and social development, he said.

Whereas these children might otherwise be carried or pushed in strollers, independent exploration teaches them cause-and-effect and to engage with their environment. Plus, the newfound mobility allows children to interact and play with their peers.

"They're problem-solving," Logan said. "They're learning the consequences of their movement."

On Wednesday, the 10 children warmed up to their cars at varying speeds. Some quickly connected the dots between the bright red button and their ability to move. Others stared up at the grownups, as if wondering what the big deal was. At least one child was not in the mood for the test drive, as he writhed and whined. Steering was a skill that would come later for most.

Logan said his mission is to give kids with disabilities the same opportunity to be trouble-makers as their peers. Independent movement — and sometimes getting into trouble — provides invaluable learning opportunities, he said.

"There's no reason kids with disabilities shouldn't have a right to be mobile," he said.

syoo@StatesmanJournal.com, (503) 399-6673 or follow at Twitter.com/syoo.