My son Tony was born with an intellectual disability. He has a brother and two sisters. He attended special school and then our local business service, so he could "go to work" like his dad and siblings. It was never about the money, more about the social activities, self-esteem and mates - with extra cash to spend as he liked. It was his pay packet – he had worked for it. He'd draw out his $20 each week from the ATM. Not enough, some might say, but he was happy deciding how to spend it.
Tony's pension never covered his needs; family made up the shortfall. He didn't understand money, but knew you needed it to buy things. Tony's job was moulded around his ever changing needs – no easy task. As he aged, Tony had to leave his "job". He never regained his "I'm working" self-esteem, so we visited the business service regularly. He passed away aged 38 and, on reflection, those years at the business service were the happiest of his life. I still visit often, to be met with lots of hugs, and smiles by happy workers. To the new workers, I'm "Tony's mum". We must unite to save this work option for all the Tonys of this world.