For many Americans, going to college and starting a career is viewed as an expected and even necessary path we take in adulthood. But for over 40 million Americans living with disabilities, that path is filled with obstacles, caused not just by physical limitations, but societal ones, too.
When Kevin Fritz turned 18-years-old, he realized he wanted a career and independence, despite the countless barriers in his way. Born with spinal muscular atrophy, which causes the muscles to increasingly weaken, doctors did not expect Fritz to live past two years old.
“I have a physical disability, and I only have use of one of my fingers,” says Fritz, now 33 years old. “A lot of people with my condition end up living at home and don’t have a job. I did everything I could to get out of that mold.”
This involved more than just pursuing a career he felt passionate about, as his disability placed limitations on what was available to him. Under
For Fritz, this meant pursuing a career would be a gamble: He could either find a job that supported his 24/7 caregiving costs (which could be as high as $15,000 a month), pursue a lower paying career, or risk his physical well-being if he could not afford the proper care on his own.
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However, his gamble paid off. In the last 16 years, Fritz not only completed undergraduate education at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, but went on to law school at Washington University in St. Louis. He is now a corporate defense attorney who works as an employment counsel for HR management software company Gusto. EBN spoke with Fritz to gain further insight into his journey and what it takes for those with disabilities to pursue lives and careers.
Looking back, what was your experience in college like?
College was a transition because I had nurses most of my life who were in their mid-40s. They took care of me, got me ready for school and helped me get ready for bed. I went from that, to being 18 with another 18-year-old doing that work. That was a very big change. I have a physical disability that requires assistance with all physical activities. If I have to go to the bathroom, if I have to shower or do anything intimate with my body, I need help. So being cared for by people my own age was a big transition.
When I was 21, I decided to get an apartment off campus and no longer live in the dormitories for people with disabilities. I decided that it wasn’t real life. I offered to pay the assistants from the dorm more money so they could work for me, and that was my first foray into employment law.
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I had also worked for President Obama one summer before he was president and that was my first exposure to disabled people who were doing important things. Before college, I had never seen a disabled person wearing jeans or clothes from stores like Abercrombie and Fitch. When I worked for Obama, I saw those with disabilities grow up, have jobs, families and relationships. We take for granted today that we at least see disabled people on TV — that was not the case in 2006. A lot of people with my condition end up falling into this system. I didn’t want that for me.
What considerations did you have to make when pursuing your career with the system that's in place right now for disabled people?
If you make over $30,000 or $40,000, the government may no longer give you benefits. And somebody like me needs help 24 hours a day. So how am I going to pay for 24/7 care on a salary of less than $200,000? This system has forgotten this narrow group of people who are very disabled, but are also able to contribute to society. Personally, I had to decide early on that I need a career where I could independently pay for caregiving. On my first day of law school, I told my professor that I need to make a lot of money. She said you should be an employment lawyer, and I never looked back.
What challenges did you face when entering the workforce?
The day-to-day logistics can be kryptonite for someone like me. The way I navigate that is by practicing and devoting the necessary energy to solve those issues upfront. When I first started working, I’d have to go to court a lot. On the weekends, while my colleagues were practicing their arguments, I would bring myself and my caregiver to the courthouse and figure out how to navigate it. How are we going to get me through the front door? How are we going to get to the microphone? That’s my whole life. I never had time to worry about the substance of what I’m facing, I just had to know it.
During interviews during my search for jobs, I already knew they were going to learn about my disability. They may not be allowed to ask questions about it by law, but they want to know. So, I volunteered. Instead of them not knowing how I type, I explained that I use dictation software. I might make a joke out of it, because it’s an uncomfortable situation. I mentor a lot of youth [with disabilities] who are thinking about going to college and into the workforce, and I tell them that they have to take control of their narrative.
What has your work experience looked like over the past 10 years?
When I was working for a law firm, I was a defense attorney for employers. I lost friends and those in the disabled community because I was defending “the man” or the “bad guy.” But I find there is a lot of value in being at the table with the employers, as opposed to fighting against the employers. You can effectuate change when you can say, “You’re paying me a lot of money to represent you. We need to change your policies. Your policies are keeping you at risk.” I have worked with a lot of companies, and have never felt they didn’t want to do the right thing. They just don’t know how. What I have done with my career is focused on how we can fix employee problems and prevent them from continuing to happen.
What advice do you have for managers who want to create an inclusive workplace and culture for talent with disabilities?
Remember to meet people where they are. There are people who can do things without physical ability. There are people who have non-visible or non-physical disabilities that work in a way that may be different from how you work. A good manager doesn’t compare the “norm” to everyone else. A good manager realizes there’s more than one way to solve a problem.
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One of the challenges in the workplace is the notion that if you can’t show up every day and be on point 100%, you’re not good enough. But we are people. People make mistakes. People aren’t perfect. There has to be opportunity and availability for success. I have seen legitimate terminations of disabled people, and what gives me comfort is that managers did create opportunities and space for everyone to thrive. My goal for my clients is to make sure there are plenty of opportunities for everyone to show up.
What is a piece of advice you wish someone had told you before entering the worlds of higher education and work?
Don’t worry about the “nos.” You’re going to hear a lot of “no.” For a time, I would devote so much energy to a particular effort. When it fell through, it felt like I failed and wasted a lot of time. My life expectancy was two years old — I have always lived with a sense of urgency and I always feel like time is slipping out of my fingers. But I had to approach this from a place of if it’s meant to be for both parties, then it’s meant to be. I had to make peace with the fact I’m going to get more “no” than “yes.” And if I hadn’t done all those interviews, I wouldn’t have had my confidence. When the right job came along, it was an easy choice for them, and an easy choice for me.
