My Autistic Perspective on the Lack of Employment Services for Those with Special Needs
Take a chance on us.
"Some days won't end ever, and some days pass on by. I'll be working here forever, at least until I die. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. I'm supposed to get a raise week, you know damn well I won't." - Huey Lewis and the News, Workin' for a Livin'
For some of us on the spectrum, the term "autism awareness" carries a negative connotation, like the controversial puzzle piece symbol. There's concern that raising awareness, rather than acceptance, is meant in a preventative sense; that being on the spectrum is something to avoid, as demonstrated in the beliefs of some that not vaccinating children will prevent them from "catching" autism.
For me, the term "autism awareness" simply means educating society on the daily challenges we face, so that ordinary people will, hopefully, be more understanding, empathetic, and accommodating towards us. I wish for people to understand us better, so that we're no longer bullied, viewed with Rain Man stereotypes, portrayed in a derogatory sense, or made the punch line of cruel jokes. As such, I will continue raising autism awareness as well as campaigning for acceptance.
This time, the autism-related issue I'd like to raise awareness to, is the lack of specialized employment programs and services for teens and adults on the spectrum. Some of us don't need help finding jobs, but others do. The problem is many employment agencies out there tend to place individuals with learning disabilities in grocery and hardware stores. While these businesses may be a good fit for some autistic and learning-disabled folks, not all of us would do well in such environments. The reality of autism is that we're each wired differently, with unique strengths and challenges. Therefore, we cannot all be placed into the same box.
For example, I suffer from social anxiety and struggle with math, so any jobs that involve dealing with the public or working cash, such as stores or restaurants, wouldn't be a suitable match for me. One employment agency placed me in a telemarketing call centre, despite me notifying them of my social anxiety and how I find talking on the telephone extremely stressful. Putting me in a position that required making intrusive phone calls to angry people at dinnertime was a recipe for disaster, and I quit that same day.
Another employment agency set up a job interview for me at the gift shop of a fancy hotel. I did well in the interview, but was passed over for the job, as I couldn't work cash due to my math difficulties. My takeaway from these experiences is that employment agencies are so swamped with clients that their main priority is simply lightening their caseloads, hence the grocery and hardware stores for their learning-disabled clients.
It's a shame there isn't more tailored assistance, as many of us on the spectrum are extremely passionate and knowledgeable about our favourite subjects and pastimes, which could be applied to successful careers in such fields of interest. In turn, our boundless enthusiasm and expertise would make us valuable assets to potential employers. Some of us simply need a little help along the way to reach our career goals.
In high school, a great resource offered to us special ed students was the co-op program. This program taught us about workplace safety, the importance of unions, the rights of employees, etc. It then placed us in volunteer roles in the workplace, where we would gain experience and earn credits towards our diplomas. We were encouraged to seek placements in our fields of interest. Some of us were even offered paid positions after graduating from high school.
My placement was with the tour department of a major Canadian television station. I assisted the tour guides and recorded tour bookings. It was such a cool experience. While I was offered a paid position with the tour department, I ultimately never heard back from them. Still, despite this disappointment, co-op was a great experience overall, and one I'd highly recommend to any teens with similar programs at their high schools.
Anyway, when I finally got my first paid job as an usher at a historic Toronto playhouse, it was thanks to the help of a family friend. While working cash to sell refreshments at intermission was a requirement of this position, the front-of-house manager was willing to exempt me from these duties. Unfortunately, there was no way around dealing with the public, as my primary tasks as an usher included scanning tickets, seating patrons, and hand-operating antique elevators. I stuck it out at the playhouse for a few years, until the symptoms of my social anxiety became too unbearable.
Thankfully, there was a unique employment agency in Toronto at the time, which specialized in assisting adults on the spectrum find suitable employment catered their specific needs. This place was a Godsend that took the time to learn each of their clients' unique strengths and challenges. They would then pair clients with understanding and patient employers who wanted to hire autistic individuals.
With the aid of this wonderful agency, I was finally matched with the perfect job for my special needs: verifying newspaper deliveries at the convenience stores throughout Toronto's subway stations. I didn't have to interact with people or work cash. I remained there for many happy years, until I went on sick leave after being assaulted on the subway. I was later laid off during this recovery period, as my department was shut down. Despite these unfortunate incidents, I otherwise loved my days working as a newspaper verifier.
Unfortunately, the organization that helped me find this perfect job eventually shifted away from their original model, and I never came across another employment agency like them ever again. I hope that changes, as I feel this void must be filled, so that those of us who struggle finding work can earn a living and become more independent. We need more employment agencies that specialize in helping those of us with special needs. Thanks for taking the time to read this. Until next time, love peace, and chicken grease.