
One year ago, I began working for a new nonprofit organization aimed at helping families with autistic children. We do medical evaluations, direct families to the right resources, and provide after-school activities. The needs are endless, so our programs and offerings keep growing.
This job represents yet another career shift for me; I’ve gone from professor to writer to nonprofit leader. In some ways, this is a continuation of work that I’ve always done. I’m still teaching and writing. I’m organizing panels of speakers. I give college advice. In other ways, it is brand new. I work within a medical office, which has its own jargon and norms.
My primary responsibility is to help parents solve all sorts of autism problems. School, paperwork, special camps, therapy — I send them to the right place and hold their hands when they cry. Because this is a start-up, I do much more than that. I also set up the website, created a newsletter, assembled a mailing list, created new procedures, ran a webinar series, and produced publicity materials. It’s all-hands-on-deck to get this operation off the ground.
It’s been all-consuming. Start-ups are always that way. My many side gigs and hobbies were put on hold. Friends were neglected. Newsletters aren’t happening regularly. But with a year under my belt, I’m able to step back and reassess.
