A Path Destined to Live

by Melanie Fountaine

“Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”
— Ralph Waldo Emerson

iblings. This simple word is the foundation of my life’s course. More than just people who share my DNA and family history, my siblings — identical twin sister and best friend, Melissa, and big brother, Josh — are more than supporting players in my life story. They are co-architects of the life I live today. As the co-founder of two companies, I am daringly trekking on an entrepreneurial journey alongside my twin sister as we change the landscape for families with special needs. It is a journey fueled by difficult and beautiful experiences as a sibling of a brother with special needs and amplified by becoming a parent.

One in four U.S. adults — 61 million Americans — have a disability that impacts major life activities, according to a report in the CDC’s Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report. Further, the most common disability type, mobility, affects one in seven adults. Their struggles are not confined to their household but impact society at large. For families with special needs, the things that many take for granted, such as going to work or the grocery store, require planning and support. The burdens are even greater for low-income families.

Not Quite Little House on the Prairie

I grew up economically disadvantaged, on a family farm with a brother who had special needs. On the farm, there were no babysitters or private caregivers. Our family did not have access to resources for help, so Melissa and I were Josh’s caregivers. Our reality was not unique. In fact, according to the National Alliance for Caregiving and the AARP, approximately 43.5 million caregivers have provided unpaid care to an adult or child in the last 12 months.

As a family, we had to work together to make the best of our circumstances. Families like mine are often without a community. Lack of resources and/or access can effectively prevent them from participating in the world around them. This can leave families with disabilities feeling isolated and rob the community of being exposed to families with differences.

Sliding Doors

The movie “Sliding Doors” depicts a parallel “what if?” In my own version of sliding doors, a life without Melissa and Josh would have left me much more negatively affected by childhood experiences and unable to live my full potential. I am thankful for the door that allowed me to be where I am today.

Much of my childhood revolved around Josh’s battles with brain cancer, brain surgery and the challenges that followed. It was hard to watch, but it was also an undeniable gift. My brother was sick and in and out of hospitals, but his spirit was full of joy. It made me realize early on that life is actually pretty remarkable. I learned that there is a world bigger than myself.

My childhood experiences catapulted me into learning very quickly that the human spirit is limitless, and a person can accomplish anything. I learned compassion and understanding, traits which allow me to see people for their capabilities, not disabilities. I also developed a passion to be more than a bystander in life, to actively participate and to make an impact. Living with a brother who had joy in the midst of pain taught me about the awesome power of resiliency. Challenges exist and need to be faced, but they need not define you.

These concrete experiences in childhood were instrumental in shaping the person I am and the work I do today.

Mourning and Moving Forward

With my twin, I took a leap to start my first company in the disabilities field. At the time, we were 28 years old and worked in vastly different career fields. I was working as a school counselor, and my twin, Melissa, was in marketing and sales. Just one year earlier, we had unexpectedly lost our brother Josh. Nothing prepares you for the moment you learn your big brother has died. It was an intense time of pain as we mourned his loss. Time passed, and we moved forward, but there was a large void in our hearts. In 2011, we founded Josh’s Place, with the soul-filled mission to provide quality support and housing for people with special needs, just as Melissa and I would have wanted for Josh. Josh’s Place allowed us to honor our brother by providing disability services and group homes that focus on the whole person.

Your Mission Can Move Mountains

Our work with families at Josh’s Place illuminated the need for on-demand care. Some families needed access to a trusted caregiver for an hour or for an evening. As we searched for a solution, we were shocked to find that none existed. This led to Melissa and me taking another leap by creating Joshin, the first-of-its-kind, on-demand disability care app. Because of, not in spite of, our childhood, we never allowed the obstacles to becoming technology founders daunt us or prevent us from solving a need. My brother taught me the power of resilience, and it is a lesson that allows me to doggedly pursue my goals of serving families with unmet needs.

Starting a technology company was a bold move for a non-technologist. Because I had learned that there is always a path even if all you see are mountains, I focused on what I did know. I knew what it was like to be a family with special needs. I knew the day-to-day experiences, the ups and downs. I was also clear on my “why.” I had a mission to help families with disabilities and knew that technology was the conduit. With a firm focus on who I was serving, I did not allow the small things to deter me. There are always others that you can learn from or enlist to help you reach your goal. When your “why” is strong enough, you will not even let a lack of knowledge stop you. And through the disappointments, challenges and setbacks, you can find joy, just like my brother Josh.