It might sound like a cliché, but the idea for Bitty & Beau’s Coffee really did come to Amy in the shower. At that time, in 2015, our youngest two children, both of whom have Down syndrome, were six and 11, and we’d been talking about what their future as teens and then adults would look like.
When we learned that 80% of people with disabilities in the United States are unemployed, we were determined to make sure that our kids Bitty and Beau would not become part of that statistic. We thought the solution could be as simple as demonstrating the intrinsic value we saw in their lives and those of others living with disabilities.
Amy’s shower idea? To open a coffee shop in our hometown of Wilmington, North Carolina, that would employ mostly people with intellectual and developmental disabilities. What better way to both create jobs and bring people together? Within three months we’d hired 19 team members and opened the first Bitty & Beau’s Coffee. Within six months business was so good that we were able to move to a space 10 times the size of the original one and build our own roastery. Seven years later we have 17 locations across 11 states and the District of Columbia—with four more slated to open in 2023—employing more than 400 people with disabilities.
The mission of our business is to put people with disabilities—either congenital or acquired—to work. We’d love to see more entrepreneurs follow in our footsteps. But we also believe that any organization can open its doors to people with disabilities—and can regard them as a competitive advantage. In fact, all corporate diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) strategies should include a commitment to broadening the talent pool in this way. We’ve learned through experience how to overcome challenges, get the best from our team members, and capitalize on all the value they provide. Our kids motivated us to make a difference. We hope we can do the same for you.
Family Inspiration
Our path to the hospitality industry was a circuitous one. We met at the University of Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music while in our twenties. Ben had already appeared on Broadway in his teens, so after graduation we got married and moved to New York for a while to make a go of show business. We had the good fortune to perform together on Broadway in State Fair, but we soon decided that as we started having children, we wanted to be closer to family in North Carolina. There we both went to work for Amy’s dad, who owned a precision sheet-metal fabrication company, and got an education in operations and manufacturing. Meanwhile, Amy’s entrepreneurial spirit manifested in the founding of an after-school theater program for kids, and we welcomed our first two, Lillie and Emma Grace. Ben also tried different paths—contemplating stints at divinity and law schools—before settling in financial services with firms including Edward Jones, Smith Barney, and Wells Fargo Advisors Financial Network.
When Beau was born with Down syndrome, in 2004, we felt a mix of emotions: fear of the unknown, because neither of us had had any experience with disability; worry about what our newborn son would need and how we could help him navigate the world; and, candidly, grief over the loss of the child we’d expected to have. Thankfully, we both quickly transitioned to a more positive mindset—embracing Beau as he is and feeling very blessed to have him.
Five years later, when Bitty, too, was born with Down syndrome, we weren’t afraid, worried, or sad. Not only had our fourth child made it into this world—despite doctors’ having given her a 25% chance of survival—but she had the same disability as Beau.
As the parents of Beau and Bitty, we quickly learned that in the United States and most other places around the world, people with disabilities, particularly intellectual and developmental ones, are treated differently from everyone else. Sure, charitable and advocacy organizations and some K–12 school systems are working to shift that dynamic. But in all the years we’ve spent fundraising for and blogging and speaking publicly about this issue, it often feels as if we’re preaching to the choir. The disability community remains a subculture disconnected from mainstream society. Adults especially still struggle to integrate. And one of the greatest obstacles they face is a lack of access to employment.
Our First Shop
Bitty & Beau’s Coffee is our attempt to change that. We started planning our first shop in November 2015. Friends in the coffee business advised us on sourcing quality beans and what machinery we’d need. We researched other aspects of food and beverage service online. We found a 500-square-foot spot to rent and set to work to outfit it properly. We included signage that explained our mission and a TV monitor on which a video loop would present disability statistics and showcase our team members. We used social media to announce our launch plans to the community and to put out a call for job applicants.
In December we rented a room and hosted an informational session for would-be employees. It was a packed house—about 50 people of all ages and varying abilities, often accompanied by a family member. Most had never been to a job interview before and didn’t have a résumé, so it was informal. We simply explained that we were looking for people with a positive attitude who were interested in learning something new and assured them that our plan was to figure out through the training process which jobs best fit their skill sets and personalities. Then we made the rounds to meet everyone.
We ended up hiring 19 people from that group—some with Down syndrome, some on the autism spectrum, some with cerebral palsy, others undiagnosed. We then spent time with them on-site and assigned roles: greeting customers, running the point of sale, making drinks, calling out orders when ready. Amy and other neurotypical supervisors we later brought in would float in the background and assist only when necessary. We were clear about this: Employees with disabilities would be the face of our business. Customers would see them doing these familiar jobs and interact with them directly.
Our doors opened in January 2016 to great local fanfare, and it was exactly as we’d imagined. People were coming in; slowing down; receiving friendly, efficient service; drinking great coffee; and, most important, having meaningful personal exchanges with our team members. And our customers weren’t just from the neighborhood. Some saw the employee stories we shared on social media (“Look what Matt did today!” “This is Joann’s first job!”) and drove from all over the country to visit the shop; others planned vacations to come see us. Things were so busy that we quickly realized we’d need more space. In June we moved into 5,000 square feet that had previously housed a Hummer dealership. Soon thereafter we invested in our own fully automated roastery, and Ben sold his financial services practice to join the business full-time.
The Path to Growth
With so much interest from outside Wilmington, we started to consider how we might grow. Emails from would-be Bitty & Beau’s operators flooded our inboxes; we got about two dozen a week. Our first thought was to franchise, so we began accepting applications. But as hundreds poured in over the next few months, we realized that we should pump the brakes and experiment with expansion first. We decided to open a single shop outside Wilmington, in Charleston, South Carolina, to prove that our concept could be scaled up and that success didn’t depend on the two of us being there every day.
We hired for the new shop in the same way as for the first: We found people who were excited to work and learn, and we assigned them to the stations they were best suited for. We would embrace any kind of disability and make accommodations. Our aim was to give team members meaningful work to do—whether they used only sign language or were in a wheelchair or had limited dexterity or were uncomfortable with social interactions—and to stay flexible. If someone was put in the wrong role to start, we’d simply have that person try a new one.
Shift supervisors were chosen for their ability to adjust and adapt in this way. They didn’t necessarily need previous experience interacting with people with disabilities; they just needed the courage and the heart to share expertise and lead from behind in the diverse workplace we’d created.
The Charleston shop was as popular as the Wilmington one, so we added another in Savannah, then one in Annapolis, and then two more in Wilmington. Now we had a playbook to offer franchisees, and we knew that would be the fastest route to bringing a Bitty & Beau’s to—and carrying out our mission in—as many cities and towns as possible. We embarked on that process in 2021, in the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic, but we’ve still managed to open 11 franchises across the United States in the past two years, and we will have opened another four locations by the end of 2023.
Our headquarters staff has grown in tandem: We now have franchise liaison teams, creative services, and a much larger roasting operation and fulfillment group that sends our coffee beans around the country. We may eventually add more corporate-owned shops, but that takes time; meanwhile, franchising helps us capitalize on the momentum we’ve created. Indeed, international expansion may also be on the horizon. We’ve had people from Australia, Canada, England, Ireland, Italy, Japan, South and Central America, and Switzerland emailing to say, “Bring Bitty & Beau’s to our country.”
Of course, we choose and vet our franchisees carefully, spending Zoom call after Zoom call getting to know them. It’s wonderful if they have some business and franchise experience, but we also want to make sure they’re fully aligned with the Bitty & Beau’s mission. Many applicants are people like us: They have family members with disabilities and want to create a place where they can work without feeling marginalized. Others just believe in what we’re doing and see what a difference they can make by bringing one of our shops to their hometown.
Although each franchisee owns the franchise’s assets and a license to use our trademark, trade dress, systems, procedures, and operations, as prescribed in the franchise agreement, we own the business and remain heavily involved in maintaining and developing our culture and commitment to it. Retail is hard if you’re not located in the right spot, so we advise on the areas that can work best. We also don’t currently have drive-throughs, because we’re not selling just coffee—we’re selling an experience. All the shops use our signature signage, drink machines, and unique accommodations, such as giving customers playing cards that match up with their orders rather than writing their names on the cups (which can be difficult for some of our team members). It’s critical to us to ensure that each Bitty & Beau’s maintains the quality drinks and food, excellent service, and communal environment we’ve become known for. After all, our kids’ names are on the sign.
Beyond Our Business
We’ve been so focused on our own business over the past seven years that we haven’t had much time to speak to other organizations about how they might incorporate some of what we do at Bitty & Beau’s. Maybe, as an initial step, corporate leaders could simply look at our example: If the majority of our workforce is made up of people with disabilities in frontline roles, could you really not employ one such person?
We do have more advice to offer, however. First, recognize that disabilities are part of the human condition. Some people are born with them. Others acquire them through a health challenge or an accident, and that could happen to any of us. But disability is a difference that continues to engender severe marginalization. Let’s normalize it instead, and move toward integrating people with disabilities into society as we’ve tried to do with all other nonmajority groups.
To that end, we need to put more than charity dollars to work on this cause. Business leaders should be investing real capital in and innovating around this population of people, who can add value in a variety of venues. Too often people with disabilities aren’t even given a chance. Employers think it will take too much effort to get them up to speed. But in our experience the learning curve isn’t that steep, and you’ll soon have highly reliable, deeply engaged, and fiercely loyal new team members.
Remember that it’s OK to start small. You don’t need to bet the house on a big initiative right away. Begin by finding one person with a disability whom you can bring into your workplace—even for just a few hours one day a week—so that all those who don’t have a disability will start to get comfortable with being around someone who does. Trust us: Team members who are put in the right roles and set up to succeed will display dedication and infectious enthusiasm. You can grow your initiative from there.
As you build, try to look at your new employees through a parent’s eyes. See their untapped potential. Give them opportunities. Keep your expectations high, but also afford them grace and understanding. Be their biggest cheerleader. (For what it’s worth, we think this is good advice for managing people without disabilities too.)
There are no shortcuts to figuring out who will work best in which role. It’s important to consider every applicant who has a disability as a unique individual with certain strengths and weaknesses (but also the capacity to learn and grow) and then evaluate that person’s fitness for a desired role, perhaps with accommodations.
When a workforce diversifies in this way, the existing employees will pay attention. Perhaps one of them has a child with autism at home, or a sibling who experienced brain damage, or a parent who was forced into early retirement by arthritis. Such people will appreciate the work you’re doing to promote full inclusivity. Other employees will benefit from seeing the resilience, determination, and spirit of their coworkers with disabilities. It will open their minds to what’s possible and encourage them to consider new perspectives, which can lead to more-creative thinking. We’ve found that the morale of our mixed workforce is exuberantly high.
So far we’ve worked with three other companies directly—not to advise them on their DEI strategies but to serve Bitty & Beau’s coffee in their corporate offices. Our two newest Wilmington locations are at the buildings where Thermo Fisher Scientific and nCino, a cloud banking company, are headquartered. Salesforce has also been a strong partner, serving our coffee at its world headquarters and sending it to clients during the pandemic. We’re in discussions with numerous hospitals and universities that are interested in Bitty & Beau’s shops as well. We’d love to see every commercial or government building have one in its lobby—in part because we think it would inspire other organizations to realize that they, too, can successfully employ people with disabilities.
Lasting Impact
As you can imagine, our entire family is invested in Bitty & Beau’s. Beau, now a junior in high school, and Bitty, a seventh-grader, are still too young to become official team members, but they’re proud to represent the company, especially at new store openings. Bitty loves making the rounds at our flagship, chatting with customers and serving coffee. Beau says he might someday work the counter, but he’d probably prefer being at a place that serves burgers or doing taste testing for the restaurateur Guy Fieri.
At 22, having recently graduated from New York University with a major in film and television, Emma Grace is our creative director. And Lillie, 24, a graduate of UNC Wilmington with a degree in political science, who only four years ago was diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum, is a standout performer in our fulfillment center. At family dinners we’re always talking about what’s on the horizon for Bitty & Beau’s and how we can have an even bigger impact in the world.
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What started as an idea in the shower has become our life’s work and our legacy. We don’t know of any other business that is focused on employing people with disabilities and is trying to scale up the way we are. We’re figuring it out as we go, and we’re happy to be first movers. But we sincerely hope that others will choose to join us. The business world is uniquely positioned to help people with disabilities find meaning, create value, and connect with their communities through work.