Therese, the manager of the Subway in my town, Cambridge, New York, announced today that Faith, an Intellectually Disabled student at our high school who has been yearning for work and a chance to show the world what she can do,  has a job.  It’s terrific news.

“We got approval from the owners,” Terese said, “Faith will have a job this summer for as long as she wants it!” This is a minor miracle but a beautiful one.

Therese said her plea and the post I wrote two weeks ago helped turn the tide.

The high school sent out a couple of hundred flyers to see job opportunities for three disabled students. Therese was the first and only person to respond. Therese was born to do this work; she has a huge heart and a natural gift for communicating with these children, teaching them, and persuading them that they can work hard and skillfully.

It was heartlifting to see how happy she was when she told Faith the news and to see Faith break out in a wide smile. There is something wonderful and unique about helping someone who wants to show the world what they can do get the opportunity.

(Faith and, hopefully, the other two students will be hired under the Leap Program; the county will pay Faith’s pay for up to 20 hours a week. Through its benefits assistance services, LEAP helps people with disabilities and older adults learn about and gain access to government programs that can help them access some financial support.)

As for Faith, she was delighted and broke into her vast and beautiful smile.

Faith is the real deal. I am impressed by her intelligence, professionalism, and enthusiasm for work. As two of her teachers sat by and smiled, I interviewed her for the second time and asked her many annoying questions (I was a reporter), which she handled with grace, honesty, and poise.) She’s already quite comfortable laughing at me. I told her it was OK to say, “I don’t know,” which she often did.

I’ve met the two other students entering the program and will talk with them in the coming weeks. Today was important to me as well as the students. This opens up another sound channel, including the Mansion and refugee Work. I’m excited about it.

I asked Faith if she was nervous about making her first sandwich (it is more complex than it looks to do it right). The customer comes and stands in front of the counter. The staff asks what they want, wraps or big long sandwiches, and the customer then points to or calls out the vegetables and meat they want in the sandwich.

The process is transparent, and the customer sees everything in their sandwich. I go to the subway once or twice a week to bring lunch home if one of us is too busy to make lunch. I immediately fell in love with Therese, and we had fun when we met.

She said she was uneasy only for a few minutes; Therese, she said, stood by and helped her when she needed it. The only guidance she needs now, she said, is on wrapping the sandwich up when it was all made. “I want to work,” she said, “and I want to work here.”

Therese is proud of her students; they feel like her own children. Faith has a lovely smile, but she lights up around Therese.

She said she would leave the room while I ordered my sandwiches from Faith and be close by if needed. She didn’t want to make Faith nervous by standing over her. There was no need. I got my perfect sandwiches.

Like everyone working at Subway, Faith and her fellow students put on white plastic gloves before touching any food.

Faith made two sandwiches, one for me (below) and one for Maria.

I’ve been buying sandwiches from Subway for months, and I don’t know where everything is – there are at least 20 open pans of different vegetables and meat. I don’t eat meat, but Faith breezed through my order in a minute or so, the suitable vegetables, the right proportions, and, with a bit of help, the proper wrapping. She asked all the right questions and understood all of the requests.

Therese says in just one visit, Faith memorized each option, where they were, and how many to put into a sandwich. Faith is aware that some people think disabled children can’t work. She is proud to be showing the world otherwise.

 

 

(Faith is making my sandwich, a wrap with onions, cucumbers, tomatoes, lettuce, and olives, with oil and vinegar dressing. She moves fast and remembers everything.)

It is a particular pleasure to watch Terese work with these children. Her warmth, humor, and empathy shine through, and the children are drawn to and happy to work with and for her. She connects with them, and they trust and listen to her.

I’m like Faith a lot, and respecting her. I suspect she gets a kick out of me, but she often looks at me strangely, as if she can’t quite figure me out.

Faith hesitates when questioned, then thinks it through. If she is intimidated in any way by me, she’s hiding it well. As I always do when I interview someone her age (18), I ask her what her interests are outside of school. She said she loves country music. I asked her if she had a speaker for her music, and she said no. I asked her if she wanted one, and she said yes. She has an older Iphone that will play music.

I went online on my iPhone, and we looked through all the speakers together. I liked the round Apple speaker I bought a couple of years ago. She said it wasn’t the right shape. I showed her round, narrow, blue, and silver speakers; she had one particular shape in mind and declined any others. I like this about Faith: she has her own ideas and is honest and direct once she gets comfortable.

Finally, I showed her the Bose Bluetooth wireless speaker, and she nodded. That was the one she wanted. The straight one, not the round one. That was the one I ordered.

Kids like Faith have difficulty finding work. People assume they are impaired and challenging to work with. I can see that is not true.

Today, I met one of the other students in the program, his name is, Nicholas (below). I’ll be talking with him next week. Therese said Nicholas likes to work in the back, filling the vending machines and organizing the preparation room. He’s not comfortable making sandwiches yet.

She said he does a great job; he is eager to work and remembers everything he is told. He and I shook hands and made plans to sit down and talk. While I was there, he re-stacked the ice and beverage machines. He knew where everything went. Therese says these students are as good workers as any of the others she has hired. They come to work on time, are enthusiastic, and work hard every minute they are there.

 

(Faith, Therese, Nicholas)

 

Faith makes a sandwich for a new customer all by herself.

(I love watching Therese and Faith together; their bond is beautiful and full of trust and love. Therese loves this work and is very good at it. I hope she pursues it, and I will do everything I can to help her do that if she decides that’s what she wants to do.)

As always, two teachers from Cambridge Central School came to keep an eye on the program, but the kids went right to work and did a first-rate job.

The more I see teachers and nurses, the more it is apparent that we are a backward country regarding priorities and needs.

We spend billions of dollars on things we may or may not need and precious little on people we need – teachers, nurses, health care workers. Somewhere along the way, we lost our hearts and our ability to empathize and came to worship only money. People like Therese show us just how wrong that is.

She is a natural, gifted social worker with no training and an underappreciation of her gifts.

I’m badgering her about that, urging her to sign up online or at a college for help in learning how to help disabled and disadvantaged children. I said I wish to enlist the Army Of Good in this new work, a new chapter for me, and to help pay for some schooling. If she doesn’t, these children will have lost an angel who can help them.

I’ll keep you posted. The blog exists to do good in the world. This is tailor-made for the Army of Good.

Some of these kids have financially troubled families. We might be able to help with the small but essential things children need.

These children are more than worthy and able to work. But they all need some help and support. I’ll be back there next week.