Spectrum Success, LLC

“Where will my child end up when I’m gone?” “How do I prepare my child to live an independent life?” “Can my child live a full and happy life on his own terms, with meaningful employment, and a wife and kids?” When I first began working with the autism population as a behavior interventionist, my clients ranged in age from 2-22, and regardless of the age of my client, the future was a common worry amongst their parents. In a quest to alleviate their concerns, I have launched

I began teaching myself sign language in 1997 upon becoming aware that mainstreamed* Deaf kids were attending my school. I have always hated being sociable in environments where everyone is shouting over the top of everyone else. My middle school’s lunchroom was certainly like that every day, and so were all of my extended family gatherings. After feeling like I could not fit in with the verbal majority I decided to see if I could fit in with the Deaf kids. Initially I did no

My first sheltered workshop was the Ohio Valley Goodwill Industries. I got into it by requesting the program through the Hamilton County Board of Developmental Disabilities Services (HCBDDS). I attended the program three times: 2002 (I was 18), 2007 (I was 23) , & 2008-9 (I was 24 & 25). A sheltered workshop is usually only available through developmental disabilities services systems. You do not have to go to an interview to get the job, but you do have to qualify for serv

My first-ever job was being a Grocery Stocker at The Kroger Company’s Finneytown store in the suburbs of Cincinnati, Ohio. My main difficulty was communicating with my direct supervisor, who I felt never seemed to listen attentively. I had to say nearly everything at least twice, which was extremely frustrating because I felt like I was not heard. On my final day there, without being asked nor asking if it was okay, I decided to keep a written log of which products looked un-

I previously thought that my first and only Autism diagnosis was Asperger’s Syndrome, which was diagnosed on Friday, April 12, 1996 at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital Medical Center’s Child Psychiatric Unit. But well into my adulthood, my mother informed me that a pediatrician who once supervised her had diagnosed me with PDD-NOS* when I was 3. The aides in my elementary school classrooms may have been there for me, but I thought they were there for other kids. I had no initia