Don’t underestimate Wilson Barron — the Atlanta Braves certainly don’t. Wilson is employed as a greeter at Truist Park. As guests flood into the stadium, he stands in the lobby outside the Xfinity Club, tossing balls to guests and hyping them up before games. And when they ask him questions, like the location of their seats, he answers them with the help of a device that speaks for him because Wilson is nonverbal. His job is the culmination of hard work and a heap of people who share a vision for inclusivity, and it’s proof that no dream is too big. “I’m just getting started,” Wilson said.
The Wilson Bus
Rachael and David Barron welcomed Wilson, the first of three sons, into the world 26 years ago. After a healthy, typical pregnancy, Wilson was delivered via emergency cesarean section and presented with breathing difficulties. He was transferred from Northside Hospital to Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta at Scottish Rite, where a geneticist performed a spinal tap and declared he would not live beyond age 4.
“She was wrong,” deadpans Rachael, 55.
When the Barrons witnessed the first birthday celebration of a neighboring baby in the neonatal care unit, a baby who had never left the hospital since birth, they became determined to get Wilson, 10 days old, discharged.
“They told us we couldn’t, and we said we were doing it with or without their approval,” said Rachael. “They taught us how to use a pulse oximeter and apnea monitor. We went home and the alarms didn’t stop sounding until he was 4 months old.”
The Barrons relied on their pediatrician, who helped them connect with specialists and therapists, and they learned a lesson that continues to guide them as parents.
“We drive the Wilson bus and people are invited on and off as experts, but ultimately, we’re in charge and responsible.”
School Years
For the first couple of years, Wilson had terrible episodes where he’d hold his breath so long that his heart would stop for up to 30 seconds. He was diagnosed with cerebral palsy at age 2 and had a pacemaker inserted shortly after.
“My friends’ babies were rolling and walking, and Wilson was still laying on the floor,” said Rachael. “They were at play dates, and we were at therapy.”
The early years were exhausting. The Barrons were in constant pursuit of the next best thing that could help Wilson.
Through fervent searching, they discovered an alternative muscle integration therapy called the Feldenkrais Method that claims to reorganize the connection between the brain and body to improve movement. They crossed the country, taking him to specialists in New York and San Francisco, who encouraged the Barrons to discontinue physical therapy, lay Wilson on the floor and let him play and explore at his own pace. He learned to crawl when he was 4 and was 6 when he learned to walk.
Along with his physical delays, Wilson’s speech did not develop. When he started school, the Barrons were disappointed to discover that the public-school system expected very little of him and focused on what he couldn’t do instead of what they could do for him.
“Perhaps I am just obstinate, but when people say someone can’t, I want to find a way that they can,” said Rachael. “Also, that is what I see as my role as a parent, to give my kids a push and at times a ramp to launch them to the best of their ability. Maybe one kid needs more time or support than another, but that only makes it more worthwhile.”
To make sure Wilson would grow and develop new skills, she learned to “surround (herself) with people who can buy into your person’s vision. If they don’t believe or if they try to limit, they don’t belong on the team.”
Rachael home-schooled Wilson for years, teaching him how to read with letter magnets. As he grew older, he struggled with math, but his language comprehension is on par with his peers.
Seven years ago, Wilson began using a program on his iPad called TouchChat, a communication solution for individuals who have difficulty using their voice. Wilson has the option to select vocabulary words to express himself or he can type out words and TouchChat will speak for him.
He eventually went back to public school and graduated high school at age 22. That’s when Wilson’s team, comprised of family and professionals, convened to figure out his next step.
Family Life
Wilson lives with his parents, a few dogs, and a cat in an old-turned-new home in Atlanta. David recently retired from a career as a management consultant, and Rachael is the founder and CEO of Effective Students, a business that provides executive function coaching services to students from grade school through college. Her experience raising neurodiverse learners inspired the company that is nearly 10 years old.
Wilson’s two younger brothers, Wyatt, 22, and Walker, 20, have flown the nest but maintain a close connection with their big brother.
The Barron family thrives on humor, mutually picking on one another, most often Walker, and Wilson is right in the mix.
Wyatt and Walker have always been protective brothers, even correcting a doctor years ago who spoke as if Wilson couldn’t understand anything he was saying.
“He may not have speech, but he has language,” the younger brothers piped up.
When Wyatt become a hunter, he insisted that Wilson needed to learn to shoot, too. Wyatt pulled Wilson up into the blind, reminded him not to make any noise and helped him shoot his first deer.
“That’s just the kind of brothers they are,” said Rachael.
Not Just Any Job
Meaghan Timko is the founder and owner of Parallel International Consulting, a company that helps families transition their neurodivergent or disabled child into and through adulthood. She, along with a resource called Together We Care, helped the Barrons put together their first team of caregivers and facilitators to provide respite care and to take Wilson on outings throughout the week, enabling him to fill his days with activities and purpose.
Parallel offers scaled pricing for families. They also provide private consulting services by the package or hourly rate. Since the services provided by schools and state agencies were not adequate, the financial piece to Wilson’s care has been costly.
“It was through enormous effort and investment of time and resources to secure private providers who were able to teach him in a way he could thrive,” said Rachael.
Her advice for other families like hers is to “educate yourselves, attend meetings to support one another, meet your legislators and inform them of what’s happening. If your child has graduated from high school, make sure they are receiving family support services through the Georgia Department of Behavioral Health and Developmental Disabilities funded by Now/Comp Medicaid waivers. If they are in school, she says, make sure their transition plan includes activities of daily living, communication and self-care. If it doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t. If you’re told no, ask why. We as parents must advocate for our children, and we should have an equal seat at the table in doing so.”
Wilson has a facilitator eight hours a day during the week. His schedule is bustling with workouts at ReClif, a fitness-based therapy center; Bible study with young adults with disabilities; volunteering at the Humane Society; jaunts to the grocery store; and lunches out at restaurants. He is also an athlete with the Kyle Pease Foundation and just finished a half ironman with two teammates in August.
In 2020, Timko met with the Barrons to explore the possibilities for Wilson’s future. He’d interned at the YMCA and served as a greeter at his church, but he expressed the desire for a bigger job like other young men his age had.
“We had to think outside the box and ask lots of questions,” said Timko. “We wanted to help him find not just any job, but a job he really wants. Wilson has always loved sports, and he loves baseball the most. We decided to go big and help him pursue a job with the Atlanta Braves.”
The first step was getting everyone on Wilson’s team to see the vision. The speech language pathologist had to make sure Wilson’s speech device would be programmed with the necessary language to be a greeter and the occupational therapist worked on his physical mobility. Everyone on the team has a role to play.
“Our job is to figure out how to get clients from point A to B,” said Timko.
With a facilitator at his side, Wilson showed up for his job interview in 2022 on time and well-dressed. He shook hands, went through two rounds of interviews and landed the job.
“Wilson is not the first nonverbal staff member hired for our gameday staff, and I don’t anticipate him to be the last,” said Katie Hearn, manager of gameday staffing and administration and club ADA coordinator for the Braves. “Our gameday staff is a diverse group of people who have a passion for providing excellent service in their own unique way. If an applicant shows us their desire to commit to being a member of our gameday staff, we try to work with them and their job coach / support staff to find a role they can succeed in.”
The Barrons are overjoyed by the Braves’ willingness to accommodate Wilson.
“From parking to making sure he and his facilitator have easy access to the stadium, they have been so inclusive and have made it to where nothing is hard,” said David, 62. “And the guests have received him just like anyone else, saying hi when they recognize him, they smile at him, and they’re kind.”
Wilson is wrapping up his third season with the Braves, and he expresses nothing but joy for his job.
“Helping others and making guest experience fantastic,” is how Wilson described his job. Asked about the hardest part, he typed, “I have an exceptional team that helps me out. It’s not hard.”
Timko has visited Wilson at work a few times.
“Seeing how happy he is at work makes me so happy. That’s my motivation,” said Timko. “I’ve known him long enough to read his posture and his presence. I can see that he’s really proud to be there. I think this job has changed a lot in him. It’s shown him what he’s capable of.”
Not long ago, Timko asked Wilson what was on his bucket list. It was vast and included things like run a marathon, go horseback riding, indoor skydiving, skiing, go to New York City, be on TV, be in a print ad, get a tattoo, ride in a limo. Wilson then used his device to type words so profound they brought tears to Timko’s eyes. She wrote them down and said she will keep them forever.
“My motivation is burning in my heart. My body shows no such flame,” Wilson said. “Don’t underestimate me and the intellect I have been given by God.”
His message may not be loud, but it is clear. Don’t underestimate Wilson Barron.
