Columbus Monthly / March 2012 / A dot of hope

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A dot of hope

A program drive by a pediatrician is trying to improve infant mortality rates in Weinland Park—one meal at a time.

It’s a rough neighborhood, Weinland Park.  There’s an unapologetic weariness about it that speaks to 40 years of decline. Homes sag with neglect. Some teeter between inhabited and abandoned, and it takes a hard second look to know for sure. Many have surrendered: graying plywood nailed to the window frame, broomsedge and crabgrass overtaking the yard.

Located just east of the Ohio State University campus, Weinland Park claims the highest density of poverty in all of Franklin County. Other worries plague this urban neighborhood: crime, unemployment, drugs, domestic violence, broken families. And for pregnant moms, high infant mortality and low birth weight.

But mixed in, like dots of hope, are signs of better things to come: freshly painted homes with trimmed hedges and a stab at a flower garden. It’s part of the Weinland Park Collaborative’s multimillion-dollar neighborhood improvement initiative. One of the dozen or so major partners in the effort is the OSU International Poverty Solutions Collaborative (IPSC), which also is funding a program for the area’s pregnant moms called Moms2B.

It was in 2009 that the project began taking shape, after citywide concern over several alarming statistics. Ohio’s infant mortality rate was the 13th highest in the country. And in Columbus, the rate was higher than that of New York City. Almost twice as high. Almost unthinkable.

A survey of Weinland Park revealed not only a high rate of infant deaths, particularly for African-American babies, but also a large number of preterm births. Spacing between babies was often minimal. Only half of the moms were breastfeeding.

Enter Patricia Temple Gabbe, a pediatrician and OSU professor who had served on the Ohio Infant Mortality Task Force. She began planning a pilot program to improve Weinland Park’s birth outcomes. The 10-week effort would focus on nutrition and healthy cooking and, in addition, offer an array of clinical support to pregnant moms.

“Prenatal nutrition is so important, and many of these moms didn’t even cook,” Gabbe explains. “Their diets were lacking, particularly in vitamin D, since northern climes like ours get less sun.”

By August 2010, with an IPSC grant of $42,800, Moms2B was up and running. Kroger donated $5,000 worth of gift cards for food needed for the cooking lessons and to use as small incentives to encourage attendance.

“We had two moms at that very first session,” Gabbe recalls. “And I wondered: Will anyone else come? Will those two come back? It’s taken me a year and a half to relax.” The program has blossomed in its second year, with 35 moms actively participating. Moms2B graduates are returning with their new babies in tow, and dads have begun hanging out. A chef has been hired after Gabbe found herself doing the cooking one month. “That’s just not what I’m trained to do,” she says with a laugh.

Moms2B recently has expanded to a second location, the Neighborhood House, on the city’s east side. More news: IPSC increased its grant to $48,400, and Kroger doubled its contribution to $10,000. The JPMorgan Chase Foundation gave $34,000 for two part-time staffers. And three other donations of $5,000 apiece came from Temple Israel, the Harding-Evans Foundation and Charles Lockwood, dean of the OSU College of Medicine, and his wife.

 

On a recent rain-soaked Wednesday morning, it’s quiet in the neighborhood. Just up from the Mid America Beer Barn, still locked and barred tight, and past a muddy vacant lot, the banks of fluorescent lights are being switched on in the basement of the Grace Missionary Baptist Church. Tables are unfolded and set up banquet style, covered with disposable plastic tablecloths, and folding chairs shuffled into place. In just a few minutes, the room will be buzzing with moms, toddlers, a dad or two and scores of Moms2B colleagues.

Twinkle French Schottke, an infant mental health specialist at Nationwide Children’s Hospital and the program’s director, greets with a hug one of the first arrivals, Chyna Mayben, 25 and a mom of three. Schottke gently takes the baby carrier from her, cooing and smiling at 2-month-old Jeffrey, and unbuckling and lifting him into her arms. There’s an ease between Schottke and the young mom, as with longtime friends or family.

A trusting bond also has formed between the moms and Gabbe—as well as with Sharon Soliday, a city of Columbus nurse in the Caring for 2 program; Anne Marie Kessler, an OSU College of Medicine student; volunteer Eloise DiPietra, and many others. This place has become a safe haven, as Bonieta Smith, mother of three children, all born prematurely, realized. Her youngest, Shyrah, now 1, stayed in the hospital for four months after delivery. “She was jaundiced, had feeding tubes,” says Smith. “But this class kept me positive. I’ve also had issues with domestic violence, housing issues. They helped keep my spirits up. And I’m on medication for diabetes—these healthier foods will be better.”

Getting settled for the day’s two-hour session is time-consuming—some people have been dropped off at the meeting by Bill Brickford, the program’s driver—and there’s a flurry of depositing coats and diaper bags, scribbling nametags, checking attendance sheets and taking toddlers to the childcare provided across the street. But the moms relax into the morning, fully engaged with the role-playing at opening circle. Mayben reclines on a mat, pretending to be a baby, and Schottke, as mom, attempts to feed her. A great deal of coughing and gagging ensues, and the audience laughs, but the point is driven home: Babies can choke on food or drink when they’re lying down. It’s much more effective than a lecture.

The exercise makes for a lively opening to Natalie Ridgway’s discussion on the foods babies eat at various stages, how to handle a picky eater and what constitutes a portion size. Allowing toddlers to feed themselves is messy business, admits the OSU Medical Center dietitian, who has a 9-month-old son, but she notes it’s an important learning process for the child. The moms are given baby bibs and spoons to take home, and a fridge magnet with a chart for introducing new foods.

Attention turns to lunch. In keeping with the healthy theme, every food offering is a riot of color—flatbread pizzas with homemade turkey sausage and mountains of veggies, green salad, homemade French bread bruschetta, fortified orange juice, fruit with mystery dip. “It’s a mix of yogurt, peanut butter and vanilla,” confides Ed Hoon, a retired OSU Medical Center chef who’s an easy presence while manning the church’s kitchen.

“This group’s favorite is soul food, comfort food,” Hoon continues. “It’s a challenge to make a healthy version. But we did chicken enchiladas with black beans and rice—some had never had that before. And whole-grain pasta stir-fry with chicken. They loved it.” Beyond the basics of cooking, the moms learn what to look for on labels—sodium content, trans-fats—and how to budget.

Natasha Holt, who has three kids under the age of 5, is time-crunched between her job at Staples and caring for her young family. “Healthy foods are important—this has made a big impression on me,” says the 24-year-old.

While everyone’s eating, lawyer and community advocate Tanikka Price chats with the group on setting and keeping goals. “You have to break it down into measurable things,” she cautions. “Like, securing child care before you get a job.” 

Then Price turns it on herself. “My goal is to lose 30 more pounds. I lost 26 pounds last year and started a blog that made me accountable. Did you know that if you’re overweight and lose just 10 percent, you cut the risk of diabetes and high blood pressure in half?”

Price resonates with the group. “I’ve been there,” the mother of six says in private. “I can recognize those signs of sexual trauma, the masking, the hiding. I let them know it’s OK to be you.”

One Weinland Park mom was so impressed with the group that she transitioned from attendee to leader. Amber Broadus recently completed a three-week training course to become an AmeriCorps worker with Moms2B. As a 27-year-old single mom with three kids—10, 6, and 7 months—and with both of her parents deceased, Broadus found much-needed support. “I saw Dr. Pat changing lives. The results have been remarkable.”

Volunteers see that, too, jumping in when there’s a need. “Back in December . . . I dropped off two SUVs’ worth of donated diapers and wipes,” DiPietra says. About the same time, Tina Bush, a photographer in Dublin, shot free family portraits of the Moms2B participants.

“Everyone we come in contact with wants to get involved.” DiPietra says, “It’s synergistic—I think it’s going viral!”

Rhonda Koulermos is a freelance writer.