Jennifer M. Graham Freelance writer and consultant jennifermgraham@comcast.net 215-641-1200
Resume and Clips
Jennifer M. Graham has written for public relations firms, human services organizations and print and Internet media for more than thirty years.
Recently, her editing and copy writing earned the prestigious PepperPot Award from the Philadelphia Chapter of PRSA for a collaborative project with PROFIT Communications.
She has been engaged as an editor and copy writer for two of the Philadelphia area’s largest non-profits for the past ten years, writing newsletters, web sites, e-marketing campaigns, annual reports and press releases. She has also spoken at numerous conferences, has taught many writing workshops and organized the region’s largest conference on transitioning from special education to adult life in the community. Children's Hospital of Philadelphia contracted with her in 2007/08 to develop a series of brochures guiding youth with Down syndrome through the transition to adulthood.
Throughout her career, Jennifer has had articles published in national magazines, including Woman’s Day, The Lutheran, advance for Directors in Rehabilitation and Exceptional Parent. She was the family features writer for eight years for Ticket, the entertainment guide of Montgomery Newspapers, and a features writer for ParentsExpress. Those assignments led to her being one of the first contributors to www.kidshealth.com, now regarded as one of the nation’s best resources on pediatric healthcare. Jennifer earned a Bachelor of Arts degree with honors in English and Spanish at Bucknell University and has taken several continuing education courses in technology and writing online and at local universities.
Recently, her editing and copy writing earned the prestigious PepperPot Award from the Philadelphia Chapter of PRSA for a collaborative project with PROFIT Communications.
She has been engaged as an editor and copy writer for two of the Philadelphia area’s largest non-profits for the past ten years, writing newsletters, web sites, e-marketing campaigns, annual reports and press releases. She has also spoken at numerous conferences, has taught many writing workshops and organized the region’s largest conference on transitioning from special education to adult life in the community. Children's Hospital of Philadelphia contracted with her in 2007/08 to develop a series of brochures guiding youth with Down syndrome through the transition to adulthood.
Throughout her career, Jennifer has had articles published in national magazines, including Woman’s Day, The Lutheran, advance for Directors in Rehabilitation and Exceptional Parent. She was the family features writer for eight years for Ticket, the entertainment guide of Montgomery Newspapers, and a features writer for ParentsExpress. Those assignments led to her being one of the first contributors to www.kidshealth.com, now regarded as one of the nation’s best resources on pediatric healthcare. Jennifer earned a Bachelor of Arts degree with honors in English and Spanish at Bucknell University and has taken several continuing education courses in technology and writing online and at local universities.
COMMENTARY . The Philadelphia Inquirer. May 2006.
Starting along a tougher path
With Down syndrome, this young man faces a daunting transition after high school.
By Jennifer Graham
The countdown is on - 30, 29, 28 days left of high school. The pomp and circumstance, the excitement of graduation and entering adult life, are contagious as children and parents exchange news of college plans, scholarships, travel abroad and career dreams. But the pomp is diminished when disability is your child's circumstance. We, too, have plans and dreams, but the path to reaching those goals is long and bumpy.
I should be used to this feeling of isolation by now. For 21 years, we've been the family outside the mainstream. When our son Mark was born with Down syndrome, just weeks after our nephew and only days before a best friend's daughter, we grieved while they celebrated. But despite decades of being on the sidelines, we, too, celebrate birthdays, life's milestones - even if delayed. Unfortunately, the parties are small and too often segregated. We invite the "regular" children, but few come and invitations from them to him are treasured rarities. Nevertheless, we know how courageously hard Mark has worked to reach the brink of adult life and how much kindness and determination he brings to the world. We are proud, and we will cheer and celebrate. But worry and anxiety dull the merrymaking.
Like most children born with a disability, Mark has been in school since infancy, graduating from an infant stimulation program at age 3, from an inclusive preschool early intervention classroom at age 5, and, now at age 21, from our neighborhood high school. He is privileged to have had more educational opportunities than any other generation of American teens born with intellectual disabilities. These children have been pioneers in inclusive classrooms and integrated activities, demonstrating that separate is not equal or better - that lessons in life's most important skills, like respect and tolerance, are learned best when sharing the same space.
As they leave school, Mark and his friends dream of apartments of their own, jobs they like, and partying on the weekends. And their parents pray that dream will be their reality.
But graduates like Mark face one of the hardest transitions from school to adult life on the planet. College or post-secondary professional training is not an option. Community-based employment is the dream, but there are few jobs, little long-term funding for job-coaching, and, if a job is found, our children are usually the first to be laid off. According to the federal New Freedom Initiative, the unemployment rate for working-age adults with developmental disabilities is 70 percent. When you consider the tax dollars behind all the special educational programs that have enhanced our children' abilities, it is criminal that so many of them sit home and watch TV after graduation.
For now, life after high school looks pretty good for Mark. He has two part-time jobs in the community that he has mastered with support from a job coach. His coworkers are respectful and friendly. But his hours are short and subject to change on a daily basis. If he is to retain Social Security benefits and the safety net of medical assistance insurance, he cannot earn too much or work too many hours. Should he remain underemployed, or should we push for full-time work? And then, if he loses his job, how long will it be until someone else is willing to hire a young man with mental retardation who can, and wants to, do more than wipe tables or stack grocery carts?
On good days, I'm amused by the awkward pause preceding other parents' polite inquiries about Mark's plans after high school, and my smile is bright as I brag about his work. On other days, I worry: How long will he work? Where will he live? Will he be safe? Will he be happy and healthy? Who will help him when we're gone? I realize the worries are the same for all parents of graduating sons and daughters. But statistically, worst-case is more likely for us than for them.
So, as "Pomp and Circumstance" leads our children into the future, I hope and worry. I hope my son's classmates have learned that sharing their many skills creates a better world and a stronger economy. I hope that when our brightest and best are corporate leaders, they will hire employees with disabilities into respectable positions with benefits, camaraderie and longevity. I hope the developmentally disabled will have choices greater than mopping, wiping, bagging and stacking. I hope graduation means bright futures for all, no matter their circumstance. _________Jennifer Graham (jennifermgraham@comcast.net) is the Founder of onTRACK (www.getontrack.us), a consulting and coaching firm supporting families of young adults with intellectual disabilities.
Starting along a tougher path
With Down syndrome, this young man faces a daunting transition after high school.
By Jennifer Graham
The countdown is on - 30, 29, 28 days left of high school. The pomp and circumstance, the excitement of graduation and entering adult life, are contagious as children and parents exchange news of college plans, scholarships, travel abroad and career dreams. But the pomp is diminished when disability is your child's circumstance. We, too, have plans and dreams, but the path to reaching those goals is long and bumpy. I should be used to this feeling of isolation by now. For 21 years, we've been the family outside the mainstream. When our son Mark was born with Down syndrome, just weeks after our nephew and only days before a best friend's daughter, we grieved while they celebrated. But despite decades of being on the sidelines, we, too, celebrate birthdays, life's milestones - even if delayed. Unfortunately, the parties are small and too often segregated. We invite the "regular" children, but few come and invitations from them to him are treasured rarities. Nevertheless, we know how courageously hard Mark has worked to reach the brink of adult life and how much kindness and determination he brings to the world. We are proud, and we will cheer and celebrate. But worry and anxiety dull the merrymaking.
Like most children born with a disability, Mark has been in school since infancy, graduating from an infant stimulation program at age 3, from an inclusive preschool early intervention classroom at age 5, and, now at age 21, from our neighborhood high school. He is privileged to have had more educational opportunities than any other generation of American teens born with intellectual disabilities. These children have been pioneers in inclusive classrooms and integrated activities, demonstrating that separate is not equal or better - that lessons in life's most important skills, like respect and tolerance, are learned best when sharing the same space.
As they leave school, Mark and his friends dream of apartments of their own, jobs they like, and partying on the weekends. And their parents pray that dream will be their reality.
But graduates like Mark face one of the hardest transitions from school to adult life on the planet. College or post-secondary professional training is not an option. Community-based employment is the dream, but there are few jobs, little long-term funding for job-coaching, and, if a job is found, our children are usually the first to be laid off. According to the federal New Freedom Initiative, the unemployment rate for working-age adults with developmental disabilities is 70 percent. When you consider the tax dollars behind all the special educational programs that have enhanced our children' abilities, it is criminal that so many of them sit home and watch TV after graduation.
For now, life after high school looks pretty good for Mark. He has two part-time jobs in the community that he has mastered with support from a job coach. His coworkers are respectful and friendly. But his hours are short and subject to change on a daily basis. If he is to retain Social Security benefits and the safety net of medical assistance insurance, he cannot earn too much or work too many hours. Should he remain underemployed, or should we push for full-time work? And then, if he loses his job, how long will it be until someone else is willing to hire a young man with mental retardation who can, and wants to, do more than wipe tables or stack grocery carts?
On good days, I'm amused by the awkward pause preceding other parents' polite inquiries about Mark's plans after high school, and my smile is bright as I brag about his work. On other days, I worry: How long will he work? Where will he live? Will he be safe? Will he be happy and healthy? Who will help him when we're gone? I realize the worries are the same for all parents of graduating sons and daughters. But statistically, worst-case is more likely for us than for them.
So, as "Pomp and Circumstance" leads our children into the future, I hope and worry. I hope my son's classmates have learned that sharing their many skills creates a better world and a stronger economy. I hope that when our brightest and best are corporate leaders, they will hire employees with disabilities into respectable positions with benefits, camaraderie and longevity. I hope the developmentally disabled will have choices greater than mopping, wiping, bagging and stacking. I hope graduation means bright futures for all, no matter their circumstance. _________Jennifer Graham (jennifermgraham@comcast.net) is the Founder of onTRACK (www.getontrack.us), a consulting and coaching firm supporting families of young adults with intellectual disabilities.
