https://www.houstonchronicle.com/news/health/article/500-000-teens-with-autism-will-become-adults-in-13338984.php
This is the thorny, dreaded question for both autistic people and parents of autistic people. While the term "boomerang generation" has been applied to millennials as a whole, it's particularly apt when speaking of people with special needs. "Boomerang" because we go out and try to manage adult life, but end up back at home with our parents.
There simply aren't enough jobs, and they don't pay enough to live on. When you add in special needs and disabilities, the opportunities shrink even further. How, then, are we supposed to take care of ourselves? What happens to us when our parents are gone?
This question comes up a lot in the parent support meetings I attend every month, and it's one that has no simple answer. The usual solution is to shoehorn the autistic person into manual labor (which pays abysmally, by the way), and hope we can keep the job. Some people are happy doing that, and more power to them. Personally, I was extremely unhappy doing manual labor, which deteriorated my emotional and mental stability until I finally quit.
The promise of higher education is that you pay your dues (tuition, which now usually ends in life-crippling debt), and then you get a job in your field afterwards to support yourself, and perhaps a family. That was the route I tried to take. Managing college can be extremely challenging for autistic people, between the loss of parental supports, the increased social challenges, and the increased workload. Assuming you could manage the rising difficulty of juggling all of that, and your self-care and social skills were up to the task, it's supposed to be worth it.
The problem is that college no longer necessarily leads to a good job. But it definitely leads to massive expenditures of money, and usually, debt. So I, like many others, ended up with a college education, but no job to show for it. I attempted to hold jobs related to my minor in college, but between the depression and the complete lack of understanding of my specific difficulties, I wasn't able to keep the jobs for very long.
Discouraged, I began looking for under-employment positions rather than lose my apartment. Few of those were tolerable, and eventually, I stopped looking. At present, I do consulting work, usually as an autistic advocate. But the pay is not at all dependable, unfortunately, and my spouse's income pays for most of our expenses.
My story is fairly common, though much less heartbreaking than most. So what's to be done?
Fortunately, autism is becoming better understood, and organizations are beginning to prioritize hiring people with disabilities. Various local organizations offer "find employment" services, and those are often a good place to start. Additionally, though, there are larger, nationwide or worldwide organizations that can help. Here's a few:
https://specialisterneusa.com/
https://autismallianceofmichigan.org/employment/
http://www.easterseals.com/our-programs/employment-training/
http://www.autismsource.org/
The ideal success story is that the autistic person finds a good job that they love and which pays for their expenses (rent, food, some leisure, and support services). This is what I tried for, and failed to manage.
In reality, success usually looks more like this: an autistic person finds a part time job they like or at least can manage. They (or their parents) manage their hours carefully so they can continue to receive Supplemental Security Income, stay on Medicaid, and continue to receive support services through Medicaid. They continue to live at home, or perhaps find a place in low-income housing. This is the success story I hear most from the parents at the parent autism support group.
This is not ideal, but it's better than what often happens: the autistic person languishes at home, becoming lethargic, depressed, and dispirited. They rely on their parents to provide supports, do nothing worthwhile with their lives, and suffer because of it. We can do better.
This is the thorny, dreaded question for both autistic people and parents of autistic people. While the term "boomerang generation" has been applied to millennials as a whole, it's particularly apt when speaking of people with special needs. "Boomerang" because we go out and try to manage adult life, but end up back at home with our parents.
There simply aren't enough jobs, and they don't pay enough to live on. When you add in special needs and disabilities, the opportunities shrink even further. How, then, are we supposed to take care of ourselves? What happens to us when our parents are gone?
This question comes up a lot in the parent support meetings I attend every month, and it's one that has no simple answer. The usual solution is to shoehorn the autistic person into manual labor (which pays abysmally, by the way), and hope we can keep the job. Some people are happy doing that, and more power to them. Personally, I was extremely unhappy doing manual labor, which deteriorated my emotional and mental stability until I finally quit.
The promise of higher education is that you pay your dues (tuition, which now usually ends in life-crippling debt), and then you get a job in your field afterwards to support yourself, and perhaps a family. That was the route I tried to take. Managing college can be extremely challenging for autistic people, between the loss of parental supports, the increased social challenges, and the increased workload. Assuming you could manage the rising difficulty of juggling all of that, and your self-care and social skills were up to the task, it's supposed to be worth it.
The problem is that college no longer necessarily leads to a good job. But it definitely leads to massive expenditures of money, and usually, debt. So I, like many others, ended up with a college education, but no job to show for it. I attempted to hold jobs related to my minor in college, but between the depression and the complete lack of understanding of my specific difficulties, I wasn't able to keep the jobs for very long.
Discouraged, I began looking for under-employment positions rather than lose my apartment. Few of those were tolerable, and eventually, I stopped looking. At present, I do consulting work, usually as an autistic advocate. But the pay is not at all dependable, unfortunately, and my spouse's income pays for most of our expenses.
My story is fairly common, though much less heartbreaking than most. So what's to be done?
Fortunately, autism is becoming better understood, and organizations are beginning to prioritize hiring people with disabilities. Various local organizations offer "find employment" services, and those are often a good place to start. Additionally, though, there are larger, nationwide or worldwide organizations that can help. Here's a few:
https://specialisterneusa.com/
https://autismallianceofmichigan.org/employment/
http://www.easterseals.com/our-programs/employment-training/
http://www.autismsource.org/
The ideal success story is that the autistic person finds a good job that they love and which pays for their expenses (rent, food, some leisure, and support services). This is what I tried for, and failed to manage.
In reality, success usually looks more like this: an autistic person finds a part time job they like or at least can manage. They (or their parents) manage their hours carefully so they can continue to receive Supplemental Security Income, stay on Medicaid, and continue to receive support services through Medicaid. They continue to live at home, or perhaps find a place in low-income housing. This is the success story I hear most from the parents at the parent autism support group.
This is not ideal, but it's better than what often happens: the autistic person languishes at home, becoming lethargic, depressed, and dispirited. They rely on their parents to provide supports, do nothing worthwhile with their lives, and suffer because of it. We can do better.
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