From the outside, the attractive, three-story brick home on a quiet street in Bourg-la-Reine, a middle-class suburb south of Paris, looks pretty ordinary. But inside, extraordinary things are happening: in the salon, a girl pounds intently on an old upright piano; in the kitchen, a gangly 17-year-old jiggles to reggae while slicing tomatoes; in the basement, three boys are carving wood. What’s so special about these seemingly routine activities? They are performed by kids who are profoundly autistic.
Alternance, as this house

is known, is a home away from home for 15 severely autistic teenagers and their families. Before it opened in 1993, “there were no solutions for autistic teenagers,” says director Catherine Allier, a special-education teacher for autistic children. “The only thing we could suggest to parents was to send their children to big institutions. It was a terrible choice. Mothers felt like they were abandoning their children.”

To provide an alternative, Allier and some of her colleagues, joined by parents, launched this group home, which offers kids two weeks of daytime activities followed by a week of residency. The idea is to save them from what Allier describes as the “ghetto of autism,” where they gradually become excluded from all social activity: “Our role is to help them acquire a certain measure of autonomy, to prepare their transition to adult living.” In the beginning, she recalls, “people thought I was crazy.” But her results have convinced them otherwise.

Alternance follows no particular method, except perhaps to treat each child as a person rather than a patient. “We try to get them to open up,” Allier says, “by treating them as normally as possible. We try to use common sense. They understand when they are here that we treat them as normal teenagers, not as poor little autistic kids.”

That means Alternance residents are expected to help with the household chores and are given training in skills like woodworking and cooking, as well as basic reading and writing. And the kids have busy social lives, including regular outings to local gyms, restaurants and cinemas. Last year, a group of kids and teachers formed their own musical ensemble and traveled to Moscow for a gig at a city jazz school. “Our idea is to keep it small and home-like,” says Allier. “We didn’t want to have an institutional feel.” Alternance is run by a staff of 25, including psychologists, special-education instructors, speech and physical therapists, house mothers and a nurse. The home’s 31 million budget is paid for by French social security.

Alternance is devoted to difficult cases, with most residents suffering from serious behavioral disorders and learning disabilities. Some can be violent. One 18-year-old, for example, was the terror of his family at home, beating his mother and sister and running away in the middle of the night. Since he has been at Alternance he has calmed down considerably and is less prone to lashing out — so much so that he’s allowed to slice tomatoes for lunch. Encouraging stories like this one, coupled with an acute shortage of facilities in France, means demand for places is high.

For those fortunate enough to find a slot, Alternance helps return family life to a semblance of normality. An autistic child can monopolize a household by his or her need for constant care and attention, thus putting unbearable strain on parents and siblings. “We have parents who call and threaten to commit suicide with their children” because of the pressure, Allier says. “But the problem is, for the most dire cases there are often the fewest solutions. It’s absolutely abnormal that such children remain at home all the time.”

A stay at Alternance allows everyone to breathe easier: parents can relax a little and re-establish or improve their relationships with each other and their other children. To help address urgent needs, two more Alternance centers have been set up, one in Paris and another for adults in Antony, a Parisian suburb, while a fourth is being planned. Thousands of French families facing an uncertain future and a dearth of options can only hope that more will follow.

	FOOD & DRINK Chefs Who Shine Nothing in the food world beats a Michelin star. TIME talks to the five European chefs receiving top honors PROFILE Model Example Waris Dirie wants to alert the world to the plight of millions of young women BUSINESS No Picnic Teddy bear rivals feud over new "make-your-own" models ARTS Urban Legends Young British artists are opting for cityscapes with a hint of darkness