I didn’t arrive at CYC with a saviour story; I arrived with questions. Why do some kids spend more time navigating systems than actually receiving support? Why do “services” sometimes make life harder? I grew up in a family where empathy looked like action—showing up, listening closely, and fixing small things you actually control. That shaped me more than any slogan. At an autism center internship, I saw how much hinges on relationships: progress followed consistency, clear communication, and genuine curiosity. I learned to slow down, co-regulate, and let children set the tempo. My data and problem-solving skills helped translate day-to-day observations into patterns the team could use—like identifying triggers that looked “behavioural” but were sensory or environmental.

Those experiences pushed me toward a more critical CYC lens: trauma- and neurodiversity-informed practice over compliance; collaboration over heroic individualism; equity over “equal treatment.” I’m wary of one-size-fits-all programs and quick fixes that ignore culture, disability, or poverty. I’m drawn to work that blends care with accountability: reflective supervision, ethical boundaries, informed consent in practice kids can actually understand.

After I complete my BA at TMU this coming semester, I will begin a master’s program in the UK to deepen my capacity in policy, program design, and evaluation—because care that isn’t measurable often isn’t accessible. CYC, to me, is rigorous compassion.

What I hope to accomplish after graduation

Near-term, I’m laser-focused on completing my master’s degree in the UK and turning that learning into practice, fast. I want to come out with real implementation tools—logic models that aren’t performative, rapid-cycle tests that actually change practice, and equity audits that surface barriers families feel first (waitlists, transportation, language, sensory environment).

From there, I’m aiming for roles in schools, community hubs, and non-profits where I can split my time between direct support and service design. That means co-creating plans with youth and caregivers, using plain language, setting short feedback loops, and tracking outcomes that matter to families—sleep, routines, attendance, peer connection—not just what pleases funders. My stance stays strengths-based and anti-oppressive: fewer restraints and exclusions, more choice and regulation supports; culturally responsive practice as default, not a “pilot.”

I also want to move the levers behind the scenes. The master’s in the UK will sharpen my toolkit for evidence-based policy and implementation: building logic models, running small rapid-cycle tests, and auditing programs for accessibility (waitlists, language, transportation, neurodiversity). I plan to partner with social workers, educators, OTs, psychologists, and—critically—youth themselves. Interprofessional collaboration isn’t a buzzword; it’s how you stop kids from telling their story five times and getting five different answers.

Advocacy will be woven into the work: translating frontline realities into clear asks for policymakers; pushing for equitable funding models; and publishing transparent outcomes (what worked, for whom, at what cost). I want to mentor newer practitioners in reflective practice and ethical decision-making, and help organizations retire interventions that don’t work—even if they’re popular. Long term, my aim is simple: fewer preventable crises, more stable routines, and systems that kids experience as predictable, fair, and kind. If I do this right, young people won’t need to be “resilient” to survive the services meant to help them.

My mission is simple: help young people thrive, and help the systems around them do better no matter what it takes (updated Aug 10, 2025)

Specific: Implement multimodal communication supports (visual schedules, first–then boards, social stories, and AAC where appropriate) and adjust my language (shorter utterances, slower rate, longer wait time).

Measurable: In ≥80% of direct sessions, document at least one individualized communication support; complete two fidelity observations (midterm/final) with supervisor; gather a 2-item caregiver micro-survey after four sessions (clarity + comfort).

Achievable: Use existing clinic resources; request 1 hour of SLP consultation; schedule weekly 10-minute debriefs.

Relevant: Improves trust, co-regulation, and participation for autistic children/youth.

Time-bound: Sept 15–Dec 10, 2025 (Fall term).

Evidence: Session logs, ABC notes, fidelity checklists, caregiver micro-surveys, and two reflective memos.

Reflection

Early on, I relied too much on words—well-intended, but overwhelming. Shifting to multimodal supports forced me to slow down, plan, and honor processing time. The biggest change came from adding predictable visual structure and using 5–10 seconds of true wait time; both reduced prompt-dependence and cut dysregulation spikes. I also learned that “more supports” isn’t always “better.” One student disengaged when I brought out a crowded schedule; trimming it to two icons plus a finished basket worked far better. That pushed me to individualize tools rather than chase the newest template.

Ethically, I had to check my own comfort with silence, eye contact, and “compliance.” The goal wasn’t to make kids appear neurotypical; it was to make communication easier and safer on their terms. Caregiver feedback helped keep me honest. A quick, two-question card (“Was I clear?” “Did X feel heard?”) produced actionable tweaks—like swapping metaphors that didn’t land across languages/cultures.

What didn’t go smoothly: AAC fluency. I hesitated to model on devices I didn’t fully know, which limited aided language input. The fix is practice reps with the SLP and building a small bank of high-frequency core words I can model confidently. Overall, the data are encouraging (fewer escalations, more initiations), but the deeper win is mindset: prioritize co-regulation, presume competence, and let the youth’s preferred modes lead.

SMART Goal 2: Better Case Management & Problem-Solving

Specific: Complete six structured case formulations using a strengths inventory + eco-map; co-create eight-week care plans with youth/caregivers; run four interprofessional “huddles” (educator, OT/SLP, social work) to align goals and responsibilities; set up a warm-referral protocol (follow-up within 5 business days).

Measurable: 100% of plans include a plain-language goal, two concrete supports, and a review date; ≥75% of warm referrals receive timely confirmation; caregivers rate plan clarity ≥4/5; document one PDSA (plan-do-study-act) cycle per case.

Achievable: Use existing forms; book 30-minute biweekly huddles; supervisor reviews first two formulations.

Relevant: Reduces service fragmentation and “retell your story” fatigue; improves continuity for autistic youth and families.

Time-bound: Oct 1–Dec 15, 2025.

Evidence: Case files, eco-maps, meeting notes, referral tracker, PDSA summaries, caregiver feedback.

Reflection

This goal pushed me from “good intentions” to operational clarity. The eco-map exposed bottlenecks—school, clinic, respite—where everyone assumed someone else was lead. Huddles helped, but only after we named a single point person and wrote down who does what by when. The most useful shift was converting vague aims (“improve mornings”) into testable steps (“pack bag at 7:30 with two prompts; bus arrival logged for two weeks”). That made wins visible and kept us from chasing crisis to crisis.

I hit limits fast: waitlists, eligibility rules, and scope creep. I wanted to fix everything, which is unsustainable and sometimes unethical. The PDSA habit curbed that impulse—try one change, study it, scale or stop. It also gave me a professional way to retire popular but low-yield practices. Confidentiality and consent were constant guardrails; we moved meeting summaries into plain language, asked youth for edits, and stopped sharing stories they didn’t want in the room.

Collaboration wasn’t magic. Role overlap with OT/SLP created friction until we mapped tasks and agreed on a shared vocabulary. Caregivers reminded me that accessibility isn’t just ramps and forms—it’s meeting times, childcare, and transit. Building a warm-referral tracker (who, when, confirmation) cut “lost” referrals and signaled reliability.

What’s next: deepen benefits navigation (funding, transport), create a one-page plan template families actually use, and keep practicing boundaries—support, don’t over-promise. The throughline is dignity: fewer handoffs, clearer plans, and services kids experience as predictable, fair, and kind.

It is not simple, but I have to do it.

Updated: August 10, 2025