WINTER PARK, Fla. — Special Olympics Florida put on a day of field games and fun in March for students of the Conductive Education Center of Orlando, providing an opportunity to shine that many take for granted.

What You Need To Know

  •  CECO provides full-day learning for students with neurological disorders

  •  The nonprofit utilizes conductive education, a method with roots in Hungary

  •  Many of its students have cerebral palsy, are in wheelchairs and are nonverbal

  • "Conductors" lead therapies, integrating activities to bolster physical, cognitive and social skills

  • Third-year Special Olympics Florida partnered with the school for a field day of fun and games for students

That opportunity was not lost on the students of CECO, a nonprofit that runs a full-day program resembling a school day for students with neurological disorders.

The games culminated with a medal ceremony, as families flanked the asphalt at Downey Park in East Orange County, clapping for students and program leaders.

“Some people think that these kids don’t enjoy their therapies, and they do,” said Michelle Mongkolsmai, as she watched her son Jak receive a medal. “It allows them to do things.”

Mongkolsmai said that after the 9-year-old’s diagnosis with cerebral palsy, her family sought the best treatments and therapies.

Years after learning about the conductive education at CECO, Mongkolsmai moved her family from Illinois to Central Florida in order to get Jak into the program of the nonprofit, which is located in Winter Park on Semoran Boulevard.

He has made major progress since then. Working with the tablet through which he communicates, Mongkolsmai said Jak glances at icons that denote emotions and responses, and the tablet verbally announces selections.

“This is our third year now here. We would do it again, 100 times over,” Mongkolsmai said.

CECO touts itself as a one-of-a-kind nonprofit, the only center in the country to run a full-day program.

Many of the 49 students at the conductive education center, like Jak, are in wheelchairs and have cerebral palsy. Some are nonverbal.

The nonprofit’s approach is holistic, utilizing conductive education — the method’s roots stretching back decades in Hungary — to integrate physical, cognitive and social skills.

CECO teachers, called “conductors,” lead the classes, intermingling therapies with singing and art. Program assistants — many of whom study health science or education at the nearby University of Central Florida — provide one-on-one interactions with students.

The educational nonprofit was founded in 2001 by Vicky and Joe Raymond, after their son, Joseph, was diagnosed with cerebral palsy.

When he was 5, someone brought out a conductor to Minnesota, where the couple then lived.

So, Vicky, an elementary school teacher, and her husband, who worked in business operations, went through an exhaustive process in order to bring conductive education to Central Florida years later.

Most students at the nonprofit, which also has a program for those over the age of 22, do not pay tuition because it’s often covered by scholarships and fundraising efforts, CECO program leaders explained.

CECO has a waiting list as it looks to expand and needs more classroom space for more programs, but there is a much larger problem. Most people in the United States are not familiar with conductive education, nor are there widespread training programs for conductors in the states.

For the past three years, conductor Taryn Ioime has worked with Jak, seeing his progress close up.

“Back then, he was a little more quiet, more observant… not anymore, that’s right!” she said, as the student vocalized across the table. “Now, he’s such a chatterbox. He’s finally coming into his own and able to express his feelings, not only to us, but to his parents.”

Right now, Ioime explained, Jak is working on his sitting skills. As Ioime leads calls, gingerly singing, “I hold on, I hold on,” a program assistant joins in. She sits behind the student, who is out of his wheelchair, as she gently guides his hands to a wooden bar before him.

“Whether it’s just seeing them stretch their legs out for the first time, or take first steps or rolling over, it’s not just joy I get, but how happy they are,” Ioime said. “It’s not just him going to therapy for one hour. We’re here for an entire school day working on those things constantly, so it’s way more time to achieve those goals.”

Knowing that her son is making improvements in a caring environment puts Jak’s mother, Michelle, at ease.

“A lot of us were told that our children weren’t going to be happy, accomplish things when they were small, so being able to see him thrive and happy…” she trailed off. “This is community.”