At a time when the right of people with disabilities to live in their own communities—and not in institutions—is under threat, the work Direct Support Professionals (DSPs) do is more important than ever.
For decades, our country has moved toward greater independence, choice, and community inclusion for people with disabilities. It shouldn’t be a revolutionary idea to say that people with disabilities deserve the same opportunities as anyone else, to decide where they live, where they work, how they spend their time, and who they spend it with.
Progress toward community inclusion took decades to build, and DSPs are the reason it continues. It is unfortunate, then, that these threats to rollback community inclusion standards are happening as we begin to celebrate National DSP Recognition Week.
Community inclusion doesn’t happen just because we believe in it. It requires systems, resources, and, most importantly, people who help make those choices real. It requires DSPs to be valued for the professional skills and judgement their work actually requires.
Consider Jack, who receives support from his sister-in-law and DSP, Tammy. At the grocery store, he’s the one deciding what’s for lunch, and he’s the one paying with his own card. Tammy is there if he needs her. But only if he decides he does. That’s what independence and community inclusion look like in practice, not in theory. When we’re talking about reduced community inclusion, we’re talking about people like Jack not being able to choose what they eat, what they buy, or where they buy things.
Or consider the question that guides Tyrice’s work every day: “What would you like to do today?” It’s easy to take a question like that for granted. But asking it—and actually meaning it—is what gives the person she supports, Patricia, room to lead her own life. Sometimes Patricia wants to enjoy a quiet afternoon at the library, and sometimes she wants to go try a nice restaurant just because. Not guaranteeing people basic rights to community inclusion means Patricia can’t decide how to spend her time day to day, or year to year.
Most days, no one is watching close enough to notice moments like Jack smiling with confidence at the self-checkout or Patricia living a peaceful, fulfilling life she loves. But every so often, someone does notice.
Just last month, a woman at the Edgewater Library here in Maryland posted something to her community Facebook page about a DSP she saw supporting a person with a disability through a difficult, stressful moment and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She wrote about how the DSP handled the situation “with love, care, and so much patience,” and she wanted the family to know, whoever they were, how lucky they were.
By chance, the sister of the person being supported saw the post on her own newsfeed, recognized the story immediately, and posted a reply saying, “That’s my sister. That’s her DSP. She works for Fello.”
Jasmine, the DSP, had no idea anyone was watching. She was doing what she does every day: showing up for someone who needed it in that moment. A complete stranger noticed anyway and was so moved that she felt compelled to write something publicly about someone she’d never met.
We weren’t surprised. With nearly 450 DSPs on our team, this story could have been about any one of them. It’s what happens in libraries, grocery stores, and living rooms across our community every day, almost always with no one watching at all.
We must never take community inclusion for granted. Ensuring people with disabilities have opportunities to access their own communities has never been a given in this country. And the conversation isn’t over. There are still institutions in this country. There are still institutions in Maryland. At Fello, we refuse to allow that to be the only option for people with disabilities. Because separation and exclusion are not paths forward. They do not support inclusion and belonging.
That’s what makes National DSP Recognition Week worth celebrating widely every September. It gives us a moment to publicly notice what usually goes unnoticed. And to consider what all of these seemingly small everyday moments add up to: the ability to live a life connected to your community, on your own terms.
Rights on paper only become real when people show up day after day and create the conditions for independence and inclusion to happen. And that is the role DSPs play.
The best way to honor DSPs is to value their work all year and to understand what’s actually at stake in it: a person’s ability to live, work, connect, and build a life they choose in a community that includes them.
To every DSP who shows up again and again, usually with no one watching: We see you. We know the value of your work. And we are proud to stand behind you, this week and every week.
Jonathon Rondeau, CEO of Fello, a Maryland-based nonprofit that supports people with disabilities to live the lives they choose.
Opinions expressed are solely those of the writer(s) and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Able News at The Viscardi Center and/or The Viscardi Center.