08-24-2006, 09:04 PM
When 16-year-old Amanda Fabio applied for a job at the McDonald's near her home in a suburb of Boston, she was merely following the lead of her peers. After all, it's almost a rite of passage for American teenagers to flip burgers once they're old enough for working papers.
But one aspect of Fabio's life sets her story apart. Fabio suffers from autism, the complex neurological disorder previously known to most Americans courtesy of Dustin Hoffman's quirky "10 minutes until Wapner" portrayal as Rain Man. Back in 1988 when that film was made, roughly one in 10,000 children in the U.S. were diagnosed with the disorder. Sadly, that number has only grown. Today, one in 166 kids will be clinically placed somewhere on the autistic spectrum. Not so long ago, these kids weren't expected to work anywhere or do anything. Most have trouble learning, completing tasks and engaging with other people socially. Many of them have difficulty even talking to others.
Amanda Fabio, then, is special. But so is the McDonald's in Medway, Mass., for its willingness to give her a chance. "She told her teachers when she was 5 that she was going to work at McDonald's," said her mother, Denise, just after dropping Amanda off at the restaurant for her three-hour shift. "She loves it. She is so pleased with herself."
If only the public could express those same sentiments toward the Golden Arches. Few companies expose the irony of Americans' selective judgments better than McDonald's. From Morgan Spurlock's slam flick Supersize Me to Merriam-Webster's recent addition of "McJob" to signify a dead-end position, McDonald's has become everyone's favorite punching bag. But while society shakes its fists about fat content or the purported evils of minimum-wage work, precious little attention has been paid to the fact that McDonald's is one of relatively few employers willing to give workers like Amanda a chance. We also forget that the burger chain has been at the forefront of aiding youth in other ways. Since 1974, Ronald McDonald House charities have housed 10 million families with terminally ill children while they undergo treatment. Many restaurant chains are involved with charities to some degree, but how many of them can say they've raised a half-billion dollars?
Consider, too, that in Amanda Fabio's case, McDonald's is helping the cause of autism with something more durable than a donation; it's allowing a kid with an isolating neurological condition to experience the pride of earning a paycheck. "Amanda reminds us that we are indeed in the people business," said Rich Floersch, McDonald's chief human resources officer. "This story is representative of the opportunities McDonald's provides all of our people, not just some."
Conscientious Corporations
Of course, McDonald's isn't the only company doing its part for those with autism. Home Depot founder Bernie Marcus donated $25 million in seed money to start Autism Speaks, which was co-founded by NBC's CEO, Bob Wright, and his wife. Bloomingdale's has since partnered with the organization. Kellogg, another partner, included an educational message on more than five million cereal boxes this summer alerting parents to the fact that a new case of autism is diagnosed every 20 minutes. General Motors is working with Cure Autism Now; Samsung included the Dan Marino Foundation within its Four Seasons of Hope charity efforts. Former Dolphins quarterback Dan Marino, whose son has autism, told Brandweek that companies like Samsung "have the ability to bring national attention to the issues faced by children and families affected by autism." Marino added that "research progress is tied directly to research funding. When corporate partners become actively involved in raising funds, scientists are able to explore bold new ideas."
Questions of direct funding aside, the larger point may be that, when a corporation like McDonald's puts autistic Americans on its payroll, it's not only helping them to support themselves financially, it's making a very public statement: employment, in essence, becomes empowerment.
Good Sense, Good Cents
While nobody would argue that doing good for autistic kids makes sense from a humanitarian perspective, McDonald's understands that it makes sense from a marketing one, too. It's an old bit of business wisdom that still holds: doing good is good for business. This is especially true for businesses that get involved with autism. Parents of autistic children are often well networked as they scour the Internet for new information about the disorder, which becomes available almost every day. These parents know which brands are helping, they are thankful and will likely reward companies that are supportive with their business. "Since autism is now so prevalent, sponsoring an event or conducting a cause marketing campaign with an autism organization will help the company reach a rather large, loyal demographic," said Peter Bell, CEO of Cure Autism Now.
Like McDonald's, Wal-Mart and Publix supermarkets have taken the lead in providing opportunities for people with developmental disabilities. Marino said that "many have not been given the opportunity to work [even though they] make reliable and loyal employees."
Still, the businesses that have the biggest chance to make a difference are the pharmaceutical companies. This is ironic, since many blame them for producing vaccines that contain toxic levels of metals and preservatives that have been linked with triggering the autism. Finding a drug that will help the Amandas of the world could prove quite lucrative. Especially in light of the fact that the Combating Autism Act of 2006, which is currently making its way through Congress, will provide close to a billion dollars in autism-specific funding.
In the meantime, companies like McDonald's deserve more recognition than they are getting, and for reasons that go beyond the pride of a 16-year-old pulling down a paycheck. By 2010, thousands of people with some grades of autism will be attempting to enter the workforce, people much like Amanda Fabio. When her school contacted her mother to discuss Amanda's future, Denise Fabio told them not to worry: Amanda, she told the administrators, has already secured her own employment. "They were surprised, baffled," Fabio recalled. "I knew what Amanda was capable of."
So go ahead, call it a burger-flipper job if you want; Denise Fabio and her daughter call it progress.
From brandweek.com/bw/news
But one aspect of Fabio's life sets her story apart. Fabio suffers from autism, the complex neurological disorder previously known to most Americans courtesy of Dustin Hoffman's quirky "10 minutes until Wapner" portrayal as Rain Man. Back in 1988 when that film was made, roughly one in 10,000 children in the U.S. were diagnosed with the disorder. Sadly, that number has only grown. Today, one in 166 kids will be clinically placed somewhere on the autistic spectrum. Not so long ago, these kids weren't expected to work anywhere or do anything. Most have trouble learning, completing tasks and engaging with other people socially. Many of them have difficulty even talking to others.
Amanda Fabio, then, is special. But so is the McDonald's in Medway, Mass., for its willingness to give her a chance. "She told her teachers when she was 5 that she was going to work at McDonald's," said her mother, Denise, just after dropping Amanda off at the restaurant for her three-hour shift. "She loves it. She is so pleased with herself."
If only the public could express those same sentiments toward the Golden Arches. Few companies expose the irony of Americans' selective judgments better than McDonald's. From Morgan Spurlock's slam flick Supersize Me to Merriam-Webster's recent addition of "McJob" to signify a dead-end position, McDonald's has become everyone's favorite punching bag. But while society shakes its fists about fat content or the purported evils of minimum-wage work, precious little attention has been paid to the fact that McDonald's is one of relatively few employers willing to give workers like Amanda a chance. We also forget that the burger chain has been at the forefront of aiding youth in other ways. Since 1974, Ronald McDonald House charities have housed 10 million families with terminally ill children while they undergo treatment. Many restaurant chains are involved with charities to some degree, but how many of them can say they've raised a half-billion dollars?
Consider, too, that in Amanda Fabio's case, McDonald's is helping the cause of autism with something more durable than a donation; it's allowing a kid with an isolating neurological condition to experience the pride of earning a paycheck. "Amanda reminds us that we are indeed in the people business," said Rich Floersch, McDonald's chief human resources officer. "This story is representative of the opportunities McDonald's provides all of our people, not just some."
Conscientious Corporations
Of course, McDonald's isn't the only company doing its part for those with autism. Home Depot founder Bernie Marcus donated $25 million in seed money to start Autism Speaks, which was co-founded by NBC's CEO, Bob Wright, and his wife. Bloomingdale's has since partnered with the organization. Kellogg, another partner, included an educational message on more than five million cereal boxes this summer alerting parents to the fact that a new case of autism is diagnosed every 20 minutes. General Motors is working with Cure Autism Now; Samsung included the Dan Marino Foundation within its Four Seasons of Hope charity efforts. Former Dolphins quarterback Dan Marino, whose son has autism, told Brandweek that companies like Samsung "have the ability to bring national attention to the issues faced by children and families affected by autism." Marino added that "research progress is tied directly to research funding. When corporate partners become actively involved in raising funds, scientists are able to explore bold new ideas."
Questions of direct funding aside, the larger point may be that, when a corporation like McDonald's puts autistic Americans on its payroll, it's not only helping them to support themselves financially, it's making a very public statement: employment, in essence, becomes empowerment.
Good Sense, Good Cents
While nobody would argue that doing good for autistic kids makes sense from a humanitarian perspective, McDonald's understands that it makes sense from a marketing one, too. It's an old bit of business wisdom that still holds: doing good is good for business. This is especially true for businesses that get involved with autism. Parents of autistic children are often well networked as they scour the Internet for new information about the disorder, which becomes available almost every day. These parents know which brands are helping, they are thankful and will likely reward companies that are supportive with their business. "Since autism is now so prevalent, sponsoring an event or conducting a cause marketing campaign with an autism organization will help the company reach a rather large, loyal demographic," said Peter Bell, CEO of Cure Autism Now.
Like McDonald's, Wal-Mart and Publix supermarkets have taken the lead in providing opportunities for people with developmental disabilities. Marino said that "many have not been given the opportunity to work [even though they] make reliable and loyal employees."
Still, the businesses that have the biggest chance to make a difference are the pharmaceutical companies. This is ironic, since many blame them for producing vaccines that contain toxic levels of metals and preservatives that have been linked with triggering the autism. Finding a drug that will help the Amandas of the world could prove quite lucrative. Especially in light of the fact that the Combating Autism Act of 2006, which is currently making its way through Congress, will provide close to a billion dollars in autism-specific funding.
In the meantime, companies like McDonald's deserve more recognition than they are getting, and for reasons that go beyond the pride of a 16-year-old pulling down a paycheck. By 2010, thousands of people with some grades of autism will be attempting to enter the workforce, people much like Amanda Fabio. When her school contacted her mother to discuss Amanda's future, Denise Fabio told them not to worry: Amanda, she told the administrators, has already secured her own employment. "They were surprised, baffled," Fabio recalled. "I knew what Amanda was capable of."
So go ahead, call it a burger-flipper job if you want; Denise Fabio and her daughter call it progress.
From brandweek.com/bw/news