As I reflect on 25 years in this field—this messy, meaningful, deeply human work—I keep coming back to one particular article. It's an old one. 1990. But its message hasn’t aged a day: “The right to eat too many donuts and take a nap.”

The authors—Bannerman, Sheldon, Sherman, and Harchik—weren’t really writing about donuts. They were writing about dignity. About autonomy. About the very real tension between teaching people new skills (habilitation) and honoring their right to make choices—even choices we might not agree with.

And I can’t help but sit with that tension a lot these days. Especially now, in a leadership role. Especially after years of trainings, systems, policy work, and hard conversations. Especially as I reflect on the kind of culture I want to build for those just entering this field.

When We Say “Client-Centered,” What Do We Really Mean?
I’ve used the phrase “client-centered” thousands of times. But it’s easy for that phrase to lose its weight. It’s not just about asking for preferences or using first-person language. It’s about understanding that our clients—our learners—have the right to make decisions. Even when we don’t like them. Even when they go against our carefully written goals.

True autonomy isn’t sanitized. It’s not always pretty. It includes the freedom to say no, to eat something unhealthy, to skip a session, to be human.

And if we say we value dignity, then we have to make room for that kind of humanness.

A Reminder for All of Us—Especially Leaders
Sometimes leadership is about stepping back, not stepping in.
Yes, we guide. Yes, we teach. But we also listen. We respect. We reflect.
That article reminds me that data isn’t the only thing that matters. That independence doesn’t always look like compliance. That a successful session doesn’t have to mean every program got run.
It reminds me to pause before jumping in. To ask, “Is this about the client’s best interest—or my own discomfort?”
And it challenges me to model that mindset in how I lead teams, supervise new professionals, and build culture.
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Still Relevant. Still Hard. Still Worth Talking About.
I’ve carried Bannerman’s message with me through IEP meetings, parent trainings, clinical decisions, and program reviews. And now, as I help write policies and mentor the next generation of BCBAs and RBTs, I return to it again:
We can teach and respect. We can guide and honor autonomy. We can hold two things at once—structure and compassion.

Because at the end of the day, this field isn’t just about programs or protocols. It’s about people.
And people—real people—have the right to eat too many donuts and take a nap.

You can read the original article here: Bannerman, D. J., Sheldon, J. B., Sherman, J. A., & Harchik, A. E. (1990). Balancing the right to habilitation with the right to personal liberties: the rights of people with developmental disabilities to eat too many doughnuts and take a nap. Journal of Applied Behavior Analysis, 23(1), 79–89. https://doi.org/10.1901/jaba.1990.23-79

There were seasons I almost left this field. Not because I stopped caring—but because I cared so much it hurt. The burnout. The paperwork. The feeling of always being behind. I know I’m not the only one who’s felt that.
But I didn’t leave. And when I think back to why, it’s not the big milestones that come to mind.
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It’s the small, human things.

• Someone noticing I looked tired and offering to cover a session
• A supervisor who didn’t just ask how my client was doing, but how I was doing
• A reminder from a teammate: “You’re not alone.”
• A mentor who reminded me that not knowing all the answers didn’t make me less valuable
• A quiet “you’ve got this” when I needed it most

Those things mattered more than I can say.

The Stuff That Actually Helps
Support isn’t always some big dramatic gesture. It’s in the quiet moments where someone shows up. Checks in. Offers grace instead of judgment.
What helped me stay was never just policy or pay—it was people.
The kind of people who:
• Lean in instead of looking away
• Make space for hard days
• Remind you why you started
• Let you know it’s okay to not have all the answers
• Ground you in your why when the noise gets too loud
• Bring the focus back to the clients, where it belongs

Maybe You’ve Been There Too
If you’ve ever wondered whether this work is still worth it, I get it. I’ve been there. And what I’ll say is this: Sometimes staying isn’t about pushing through—it’s about being held up by the right kind of support.
So if you're in a place where you’re deciding whether to stay, I hope you’re surrounded by people who make that choice easier. Or at least make it feel less lonely.

A Challenge to All of Us in the Field
Now that I’m in a leadership role, I carry that with me. I know what made a difference for me—and I want to help create that for others. We don’t always get it right. But we can keep showing up. Keep listening. Keep building teams that make people want to stay.
So here’s a challenge—for leaders, teammates, and all of us in this field:

Think about the reasons you stayed—and be that reason for someone else.

If you’re looking for tangible tools to help build that kind of support system, I put together a short resource:
“5 Ways to Be the Reason Someone Stays.” You can download it here.

Let’s Talk About It
​If you’ve been in this field a while—what helped you stay?
Drop a comment, share a story, or tag someone who helped you keep going.
And if you're looking for more honest conversations like this, I’d love to connect on LInkedIn.

See you between the sessions.

​Support is one of those words that gets tossed around a lot in our field—especially in leadership. But what does it actually look like in practice?

Here’s a thought that keeps coming back to me:

Support isn’t a checklist. It’s how we show up—consistently, intentionally, together.

More Than Policies and Procedures

That doesn’t mean we don’t have standards. It means we meet people in the process. We build systems that guide, not just correct. We give people what they need to succeed—not just a list of what they’ve missed.
This month, I’ve been neck-deep in revising our staff handbook. It’s not glamorous work—but it’s important. Because how we put our expectations into words matters. So does the tone. So does the message behind the message.

What the Handbook Actually Says

It’s easy to assume a handbook is just rules and policies. But the truth is, it’s one of the ways an organization tells its people: Here’s how we promise to show up for you, too.
The updated version is almost ready—and I’m proud of what it represents.

Doing the Work Together

It’s not perfect. I’m not perfect. But at Autastic, we are doing the work to build something better. And that starts with how we support each other, in real time and in writing.
We believe showing up for one another should be baked into the culture—not just expected, but structured. Modeled. Reinforced. Celebrated.

Support That Sticks
Let’s keep building the kind of workplace where support is more than a buzzword.
Because support doesn’t start and end with onboarding. It’s not a single conversation or form. It’s what we create together.

See you between the sessions.

Welcome.

This space--Between Sessions—isn’t where I come to teach or direct.
It’s where I come to think out loud. To reflect. To explore the work underneath the work.

There’s the visible work: the session notes, the schedules, the goals, the checklists.
And then there’s the deeper stuff—the pauses, the pivots, the small moments where we lead with intention… or don’t.

This page is for that part.

Some of the most meaningful parts of this work have caught me off guard.
They’ve shown up in how I’ve responded to a team member who needed more than a reminder.
In the way a client’s “no” reminded me to slow down and listen.
In the moments where I realized the systems I helped build weren’t just operational—they shaped how people felt.
They made someone feel safe—or not.

Between Sessions is a home for those reflections—the ones that ask:

• What does leadership actually feel like for the people we're leading?
• What does support look like when it’s not performance-managed?
• What happens when we center dignity over compliance?

I'm not here to post daily or chase algorithms.
I’m here to stay grounded in what I believe:
That leadership is behavioral. That culture is built in quiet moments.
And that the client should still be the most important person in the conversation.

So thank you for being here. I hope what you find in these posts gives you something to think about--
something to feel grounded by, or challenged by, or held by.
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See you between sessions.