When Geoffrey Gordon was asked as a child what he wanted to be when he grew up, his answer wasn’t baseball player or doctor.
“I wanted to be a professional appreciator,” he recounted on a July day, as he sat at the Sally and Howard Levin Clubhouse in Squirrel Hill. “Gratitude is basically what I want to promote, whether that’s appreciating something that we use every day or thinking about things differently.”
Now 44, he keeps appreciating through the pain of full skeletal dysplasia — a constellation of bone and joint disorders that affects his entire body — plus mental health diagnoses. “Appreciating things that we take for granted has helped me get through life.”
What he appreciates — whether the Pittsburgh skyline or a coffee mug — he paints.
Turns out it’s hard to turn painting or appreciation into careers, and only partly because he can’t sit, stand or walk for long, and deals with depression and schizophrenia. Gordon has worked at eateries, a bank call center and a social services agency — that most recent post nixed by the COVID-19 shutdown, from which his career hasn’t fully recovered.

Roughly one in four Pennsylvanians with disabilities is working or actively looking for work, versus nearly two-thirds of those without disabilities. That’s despite efforts by health care professionals, educators and vocational agencies to prepare people for the job market. People with disabilities nationally are also nearly twice as likely to be working part-time as are people without disabilities.
For Gordon, part-time would be fine. That would leave hours and energy for painting. Since summer, he’s been marketing his art while figuring out how to sell himself to employers. His effort comes as unemployment creeps up and artificial intelligence transforms hiring processes.

A note from Rich, the reporter: My elder son Zach (Z for short) spent pandemic-clouded 2021 in a Community College of Allegheny County (CCAC) program teaching special needs adults to do environmental services work. When that ended, we were fortunate that “Help wanted” signs were plentiful. On a walk, we saw a facility that caters to children and the elderly advertising for a cleaner. We applied, and got Z his first job interview.
Anyone looking for work in 2021 did so amid the diversity, equity and inclusion [DEI] movement, which evolved over decades to encompass race, gender, sexual identity and disability.
In 2025, by contrast, the administration of President Donald Trump is intent on “terminating radical DEI preferencing” in matters touched by the federal government. While the administration has not targeted efforts to employ people with disabilities, the anti-DEI push and shifts in guidance on the Americans with Disabilities Act have sown doubts about the federal government’s approach to fuller employment.
Tip: Find motivation
Companies say they remain eager to hire people with disabilities, said Mason Ameri, a professor of professional practice at Rutgers University.
“It is wild and impressive and reassuring to me that the rhetoric is still very much prevalent and strong,” said Ameri.
That doesn’t mean job seekers have it easy. U.S. job growth is negligible, with losses in areas including tech that have been viewed as welcoming to people with some disabilities, including autism.
“It’s hard to accept that somebody can finish a computer science degree at CMU and then have a hard time finding a job,” said Joe Farrell, co-founder and program director of Evolve Coaching, a Lawrenceville-based firm helping people with disabilities. It’s important to “provide as much support as possible, learn what a person really needs, what they’re looking for, and figure out a pathway to work for them.”
For Geoffrey Gordon, the pathway on an August day involved sitting in an office at the Clubhouse, while Connor Stout, a staff member, pretended to be a potential employer. Stout asked Gordon what he did outside of work and what motivates him.

“Wow, you start with the hard questions!” Gordon answered. “I spend a lot of time at the Clubhouse.” Then he got philosophical. “I always thought that motivation is overrated, but maybe it’s not.”
Why does he think motivation is overrated? “With painting, if you wait until you’re motivated, you often don’t step up to the canvas.”
Pandemic-driven unemployment sapped his motivation.
“I have a lot of anxiety right now,” he said. “I have a lot of problems with self-esteem, and what I’m able to do. I don’t want to sign up for something and then not be able to do it. … My depression comes into play there.”
Tip: Break isolation
When he paints, though, the appreciator surges forth.

“His paintings have movement, they have a story, they have emotion,” said Ernesto Camacho Jr., art director at the Manos Gallery in Tarentum, where Gordon’s work has been displayed. “The placement of his point of view and what he’s trying to make come across always shows up. … You can spend hours looking at it and trying to figure out what he’s trying to say.”
At the Shadyside apartment that doubles as his studio, Gordon said in July that he doesn’t “start with a goal in mind or anything like that. I start making marks on the canvas.” Then he flips the canvas or turns it sideways. “It’s really just fun, flipping it around, balancing colors, balancing composition, and then seeing what the canvas has to say.”
He flips and paints with hands he described as “mangled, messed up,” due to skeletal dysplasia. “I can throw one hell of a curve ball,” he joked.
The condition limits the time he can spend standing at the easel, but also has benefits. Pain drowns out “the second guessing, ‘maybe this color or this tool’ — when you’re in a lot of pain, you don’t care. … That way you’re very present in your work.”

His apartment is full of canvases, largely in the style of abstract impressionism. Look for a while and you find scenes, characters and storylines that Gordon will neither confirm nor deny.
Is the shadowy figure in one painting an evil mastermind or a duck? He won’t clarify. “OK. So it’s achieving its goal.”
Some of his latest work, though, is very tangible.
He gestured to 24 square canvases, each just 6 inches on a side. All mugs.
“Everybody uses cups,” he said. “Where would we be without vessels like that?”
Even as his painting skill developed post-COVID, his marketing did not. “I became isolated,” he said. Around 2022, he sought to break the isolation by joining the Clubhouse, a member organization for people whose lives have been disrupted by mental illness.
He gradually opened back up, and the Clubhouse set up a six-month temporary employment stint which ended in spring. He’d like to build on that.
“I’m looking for part-time work to support my art, but I’m not sure how.” He applied with the state Office of Vocational Rehabilitation (OVR), which helped him get his pre-pandemic job, but the process is slow.
“I’m trying to take initiative here, but part of it is a waiting game.”
Tip: Find your group
Chris Parada worked the vacuum cleaner until its cord strained. Energized on a hot August day by Dr Pepper and wearing his well-worn Green Bay Packers jersey, he rolled it through the halls of Sylvania Place, an apartment building for seniors in Beltzhoover.
As Parada’s cleaning team members gathered their equipment for the trip to their next site, supervisor Vic Goller asked about his ambitions. “Would you want to clean at maybe a Dick’s Sporting Goods?”
“The only thing I would not be good at is cashier. I’m not good at math,” said Parada.
“That’s something we could work on,” said Goller.
“Always got to have faith,” Parada answered. “Faith in myself.”
Goller, the mobile work crew supervisor for Life’sWork, said he’s keen to see “these guys get a paycheck and to support them in whatever dreams they want to pursue” — even if that means leaving his team.
Parada, 30, of Munhall, worked stints in retail, hospitality and warehouse jobs before a social worker steered him to Life’sWork, a nonprofit workplace development agency.

On his first day with Life’sWork, Parada tried out six training rooms, each reflecting the tasks in a different job sector. He liked them all. Two years later, he still does.
“If you could work anywhere in the whole world, where would you want to work?” asked Rebekah Funk, director of client services at Life’sWork.
“A hotel,” Parada said. “I like cleaning, a lot. And I like being with a group of people, not solo.” It helps that some of his Life’sWork crew members share his love for horror movies, pro wrestling and football.
Life’sWork has contracts with the facilities the crew cleans, plus with other firms for light assembly work performed in the agency’s South Side facility. Chris and others are paid employees of Life’sWork. Depending on the contract they’re working, they may get a little more than minimum wage, or more than double that. They work part-time schedules that don’t jeopardize their eligibility for Social Security disability benefits.
Goller said his crews include people from their 20s to nearly 60, and while some get experience and move on, others stay indefinitely.
Small group employment like this is a good fit for people who have trouble handling their own transportation and benefit from having a home base and friendly coworkers.
Life’sWork pieces together its budget with federal and state reimbursements, philanthropic donations and its cleaning and light assembly contracts.
The budget is diverse but thin, said Life’sWork CEO Tim Parks. This year, he said, “The only word to use really is uncertainty. … We don’t know the state budget. It hasn’t been passed. The craziness in Washington is the craziness in Washington.”

In the cool of late September, Parada said he’s changed his mind. He no longer wants to work in a hotel, but rather a movie theater.
Funk said Life’sWork can help him to work up a resume and put in applications, join him on interviews and offer support through the early days of a job.
Today, though, small businesses are “feeling uncertain about tariffs and the economy,” Funk said. Larger companies seem to be deemphasizing diversity-oriented hiring. “In general, it’s hard to place people.”

Rich’s note: Z walked into his job interview and immediately began picking up small scraps of paper from the office floor — not a bad look for a would-be cleaner. I helped him to communicate, and it ended well: They’d give him a chance. From that date, though, it took 50 days to complete paperwork, get clearances, line up an OVR-paid job coach, get everyone aligned and finally start Z cleaning. Not long after, the maintenance supervisor found other employment. Without a manager, Z’s career was put on pause.
Tip: Navigate the accommodations conundrum
A 2025 job hunt is likely to start online, and that can cut both ways for people with disabilities.
“There might be barriers to some people who have problems using online systems,” whether that stems from cognitive, sensory or mental health differences, said Ameri. “Electronic platforms make it so much easier for folks to apply for jobs,” he added, but that also increases the number of candidates. Sheer volume drives employers to allow an algorithm to decide which applications get human attention.
The use of AI screening tools in hiring, he added, “is a gamechanger. It can help reduce bias or make job-matching much more difficult.”

Farrell sees AI as an almost entirely negative development for job hunters with disabilities, especially those seeking tech jobs. “There has been a really long-term trend of pushing neurodivergent people into tech fields,” he said. AI may crowd them out. “There are a lot of people with computer science degrees who can’t find a job right now because of AI.”
Some job applications ask whether the applicant seeks any accommodations in the interview process. Farrell said if the applicant would be more comfortable with a virtual interview versus in-person, or vice-versa, there’s no harm in disclosing that.
That disclosure, though, raises a tactical question non-disabled applicants don’t face: How much to disclose, and when?
In the interview, the prospective employer isn’t allowed to ask if the applicant has a disability, said Ameri. But interviewers can ask if applicants need accommodations. That conversation then opens the door to a discussion of disability, if the applicant chooses to walk through it.
“Some studies will say that sharing your story and being open is a conduit to trust,” said Ameri. “We found the exact opposite: That maybe it’s safer, legally and socially, to wait until after you’ve gotten the job. … It’s a tricky line to walk and it really depends on who’s sitting across the table from you.”

A person with a disability may need a third party to facilitate the interview, or a job coach to support them during employment. Ameri said there’s little data on employer openness to third parties in the hiring and training process.
Farrell said there are still employers who say, “‘Oh, we don’t work with job coaches.’” His answer? “Call your HR person.”
In most cases, job coaching is considered a reasonable accommodation — something employers are required to provide under the Americans with Disabilities Act. It’s also paid for through the state, and can improve the entire workplace, he said.

Rich’s note: Z’s first employer eventually brought him back to work, six hours per week. Fortunately, CCAC plugged him into a mentoring program, and the mentor knew somebody who knew somebody who eventually led us to call a hospital HR person. After another lengthy process, Z started his second job, at 15 hours per week, while also keeping his first. Both employers cooperated with job coaches until they weren’t needed anymore. Z was working half-time, making some money and paying taxes.
Tip: Embrace differences
Gordon stood in front of his 24 paintings of cups. They were no longer in his apartment, but rather on the wall of the front room of the Manos Gallery. At the late September opening of the Tarentum gallery’s 24 Minis exhibition, scores of people eyed the work of dozens of artists.
He had just gotten a call with what he called “wonderful, wonderful news.” A collector was buying two of his full-size paintings, called “American Splendor” and “The Pharoah’s Hound.”
Still, painting supplies and marketing are expensive. Galleries charge fees to enter exhibitions, and take a percentage of the proceeds of sales made from their walls. “We put a lot into it, then we get a small amount of money,” said Gordon.
He was still looking for part-time work and a regular check. “That’s peace of mind, too.”
But for now, he was marketing his cups. It was working: In the opening hours of a show that runs through Oct. 31, red stickers on the wall next to two of the mugs indicated that someone bought them.
Look closely. They’re more than mugs. One is square at the base but pentagonal on top. Another threatens to overflow.
“They’re all kind of cracked, and they’re imperfect, if you look at them,” Gordon said. “So it symbolizes different things that everyone can relate to, and everyone can appreciate differences.”
Coming soon: Workplace rights and responsibilities, and how pay changes benefits.
Rich Lord is the managing editor at Pittsburgh’s Public Source and can be reached at rich@publicsource.org.
This story was fact-checked by Angela Goodwin.
Pittsburgh-area resources:
Allegheny County Department of Human Services Office of Developmental Supports
Autistic Self Advocacy Network
Bethany Ziss, M.D., developmental-behavioral pediatrics at Allegheny Health Network
Commonwealth Technical Institute at the Hiram G. Andrews Center
Community College of Allegheny County Disability Resources and Services office
Disability Rights Pennsylvania transitioning guide
Gary Swanson, M.D., psychiatry at Allegheny Health Network
Pennsylvania Community on Transition
Pittsburgh Commission on Human Relations
Pittsburgh Public Schools Program for Students with Exceptionalities
Pennsylvania Human Relations Commission
Pennsylvania Office of Vocational Rehabilitation
Sally and Howard Levin Clubhouse













