Autism Moves Out

I’ve always said that I want the same things for CJ as I do for my daughter…to have a happy, well-adjusted transition from childhood to being an adult, to find something meaningful to do with their lives, and to find their own relationships in the community. In other words, to grow up, get a job and move out of my house. I’ve never confused motherhood with martyrhood.
And so far, CJ is 2.2 for 3. He’s grown up, he spends 8 weeks a year during the summer in assisted living without me and he’s got not just one job. He’s got two.He’s a true millennial.

Two days a week, he works in the cafeteria at his old high school.  He loves it and they love him. He’ll probably still be working there after I’m
long gone. And he’s making $9.31 per hour! A respectable wage.
He also attends a sheltered workshop three days a week. The “sheltered” part is that it’s a place where persons with disabilities can go to be safe while learning job skills and to join in useful work. Work that has value, like stuffing envelopes, placing items into packages and other repetitive tasks that companies need done and are willing to pay for.

The “workshop” part is the part where they do the work and get paid. At first glance, it’s all felt very Victorian…very Charles Dickens. The people working at the workshop do get paid. They get paid sub-minimum wage. This kind of defeats the point of “minimum,” one could argue, and there are people out there who do. CJ started his job at fifty cents an hour. I had to sign a
paper stating that I understood he would be paid less than minimum wage. There are specific legal channels that organizations go through to be allowed to pay sub-minimum. I was upset about it and still am not happy with the whole idea. But….It was that or both CJ and me facing the prospect of five days a week at home together with nothing but endless TV and trips to Walmart and Aldi’s with mom. I did the math a few times and realized that I’d actually be subsidizing him working at the workshop facility. I also realized
I was willing to pay, for both our sakes. So off CJ went to the workshop. He absolutely loves it.  He loves the people who work there and the other clients.  He’s taking a class that practices interviewing skills, math skills and independent living skills.  It all makes the part where I’m paying for him to work worth it.

And he’s riding the bus by himself to get there. He uses
tickets, which I began by carefully clipping together with a post-it note, stating which day and which trip each one is for. The first day, I carefully extracted that day’s tickets, and gave them to him, making absolutely sure he understood. The second day, he got out his own tickets, went outside an hour early to wait for the bus, and told me to “go away,” when I pointed this out.
When asked whether he liked riding the bus or being with me more, he firmly said, “The bus. It’s better than being with you.”
He couldn’t see me doing my happy dance behind my closed front door when I went back inside.

Three days a week, CJ is at the sheltered workshop. He recently had his first job review. He was evaluated by how quickly and efficiently he could complete at task compared to an
average, typical person. He then received a raise to $1.10 per hour. That’s a 120% salary increase. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never gotten that kind of job review in my life.

They make a big deal about paychecks at the workshop and he’s always so excited when he
gets one, reflecting his salary. He comes home and waves it around and tells us all how much
money he’s made. Mind you, he’s making $9.31 at the cafeteria, but he couldn’t care less. It’s that less-than- $20 per two weeks that’s got him stoked. His dad keeps telling CJ that he owes us all a meal at McDonalds.

I still don’t like the idea of people with disabilities being paid less for the same work that a typical adult could do for minimum wage. The work is worth a certain value, no matter who is doing it. It’s a complicated issue with some valid arguments on both sides, and there is a movement to stop sheltered workshops and other organizations from being allowed to pay less than minimum wage. But for right now, it’s making CJ very, very happy, which means, for the first time in a long time, I am feeling some happiness about his future as well. He loves his life. He has friends to talk to. In fact, when I got his initial evaluation with what they want him to learn, the only comment on the sheet was that he distracts others with his “chatter”. I couldn’t stop laughing.

I look back at where I was 9 months ago, and I’m astonished at how far we’ve come from that dark place where we were locked together, 24/7. Now, some days, I almost don’t know what to do with myself while CJ is out at work or at the mall and movies with friends.

It’s a problem I absolutely love to have.