Jessica Swanson is a BCBA, the founder of Summit Health Services, head of business development at Hipp Health, and an active duty army spouse. Her daughter has CDKL5, a rare genetic disorder that commonly presents with profound autism. She sat down for Inside ABA C.A.R.E.S. and shared a unique perspective shaped by the many hats she wears.

As an ABA provider, you are probably the most consistent professional in your client’s life. Not the neurologist they see twice a year. Not the navigator who checks in once a quarter. You’re there every week. Sometimes every day. You know the parents, the caregivers, the grandparent holding it down while a single mom is deployed.

And that puts you in a unique position to go beyond the treatment plan, helping build trust, a sense of community, and provide a level of care that this vulnerable population often doesn’t experience enough of.

Jessica shared a few examples of this, such as caregivers coming to her not knowing they can get pull-ups covered through a referral. Not knowing PediaSure can be prescribed instead of paid out of pocket at $300 a month. Not knowing transport strollers exist for kids who elope. Not knowing a TRICARE denial can be appealed and won. 

I’ve been on that side of the table. As a single mom of a child with spina bifida occulta, her PT informed me the expenses burying me could be covered. I still remember what she was wearing and where we were standing. That’s how much she impacted me and improved our lives. And isn’t that what we all get into this line of work are looking to do? 

Nobody hands you a playbook when your child gets a diagnosis. And for military families, it’s worse. They move every one to three years. Every move resets the clock. New referrals. New wait lists. New providers who don’t know their child. Jessica has seen kids show up at five and six, diagnosed at two, who still haven’t accessed services. Not because the parents didn’t try. Because the system was not built to be supportive and definitely not built to understand the realities of military life.

So she made it easier. When a military family moves to a state where her company operates, there’s already a spot held. Six weeks to services instead of six months. She shares an appeal template on her website for anyone to download. She walks families through denials. She tells them what they’re entitled to because most of the time nobody else has.

When you take time to walk beside people they see they are not just a number and begin to feel hope again. Parents stop canceling. They show up to caregiver training. They engage. They trust you. Because you were the first person who said, “Hey, we are going to get a few no’s but we won’t let that stop us. It may take a little extra time but our persistence will be worth it once we get you the help you need.”

And your staff notices too. When the people delivering services see that the company they work for actually cares about the families they serve, they stay. They match the commitment.

If you’re a provider, think about what your team actually knows beyond the treatment plan. Can your intake coordinator walk a military family through TRICARE? Do your people know what durable medical goods a family might qualify for? When a family relocates, is there a warm handoff or just a discharge summary and good luck?

You don’t have to build what Jessica built overnight. Start with one conversation. One resource shared. One caregiver who hears, “We’ve got you. Let’s figure this out together.”

Jessica is joining us this August at the ABA C.A.R.E.S. Summit on a panel that centers the voices of families who have lived the workforce crisis from the inside. Come ready to listen. You might leave with one idea that changes everything for a family on your caseload.