From Out of Nowhere

 

In early April of 2025, I'm standing, as usual, at the end of the long fence outside of the High School, waiting for Sam to get done with work. Shortly after arriving, I'm approached by a woman whom I had met once before when I had walked Sam to and from a "Personal Development Day" at his job. 

The woman's name is Becca and for the last three or so years, Becca has been the Director of Food Services for the school system.

The Director of Food Services oversees the various school cafeterias throughout town and while her office is somewhere other than the High School, she makes the rounds. I'm told by people who shall remain nameless, she's a micro-manager.

Apparently Becca didn't remember our previous meeting since she proceeded to introduce herself, make a few very perfunctory comments about seeing me walking with Sam and how admirable it was that I spend so much time with Sam, and then, with a kind of a nervous energy in her voice, Becca started talking about Sam. 

"I want to get support in place so that Sam can be successful..." she said, which sounded great. But then she added, "...but in the end, I need someone in that position that can do the job." 

This didn't sound good.

It took me a second to process what I was hearing. 

Sam has held this job for at least five years and while there have been some occasional "bumps in the road," there was never anything major. Where was this coming from? Why was this an issue now?     

But Becca wasn't done. She continued, "How was it he was hired, anyway? I was looking in his job file and there's nothing in there."

Well, I know enough to know that no one pulls someone's job file because they want to give them a pat on the back.

I asked her what she was looking for and she said something to the effect that there was no record of his work history and there was no documentation of any kind of a disability. In fact, it sounded as if hearing that Sam had a disability came as a complete shock. 

This was ridiculous. There is no excuse for being surprised about this. It's not the kind of thing you could keep quiet about - even if, for some insane reason you wanted to. Anyone that has met Sam  would understand he has a disability - even if they didn't know exactly what it was. This was absolutely crazy.

I told her that, while I couldn't account for what they do and don't keep for records, there is no question that Sam has disabilities. I explained how Sam found this position by working with an outfit called Viability and how Viability only serves to place and support folks like Sam. I explained how his at-the-time job coach explained Sam's disabilities to the at-the-time Director of Food Services.

I gave her a history of the interview process, Sam's initial support, and the ongoing support with his current job coach. I offered to put her in direct contact with this job coach.

I talked about his other support services - all of which were (and are) coordinated (sort of) through the state's Department of Developmental Services.

I talked about his many diagnosed disabilities and described their impacts, not only with regards to his work but in all aspects of his life. 

I talked about how difficult is for people like Sam who have disabilities that a person can't see, and how, because there is a lack of physical evidence, the someone like Sam is sometimes not believed - and often - very often - not understood. 

I talked abut the challenges and prejudices faced by people like Sam.

Throughout all of this, I asked several times what it was that she was looking for in the way of documentation. Each time, the subject was changed. I never got an answer.

As the conversation wound down, I gave Becca my contact information. I offered that, if she would like, I could put her in direct contact with Sam's job coach. 

She thanked me. And then she left.

I felt as if a bomb had just blown up.

One of my main goals in life - maybe the main goal in life, has been to advocate for Sam; to try and teach and foster and support Sam as best as I can; to try and create and maintain a safe, stable and, hopefully, a loving environment for him. 

His job is an integral component in this. Work has been important for Sam. It's not the paycheck and it's certainly not the social aspect (more on that another time). He takes pride in his job; in the fact that he's working. It helps boost his feelings of self-worth. In a life that has had more than it's share of challenges and changes, his job has been one of the few areas offering stability and, maybe more importantly, predictability.

And up until this day, it seemed to be the one area in his life that I didn't need to worry about... and now it seemed to be in jeopardy. 

 Now what do I do?