Silvia's parents had no doubt when they decided to petition for her work disability classification to be reviewed, seeking to upgrade from a 100% invalidity certificate. They admitted to greater hesitation, though, when it came time to choose where Silvia would work. The decision hinged on commute time—an hour and a quarter involving train, metro, bus, and a walk on foot—and the fact that the restaurant sat inside a shopping mall, potentially noisy and exhausting. To reach their conclusion, "the whole family gathered for a meeting," with an eye toward including Silvia's siblings in the decision. In the end, they all chose the location reachable by public transit, even if farther away.
The choice wasn't simple, but Silvia's entire educational journey had been leading to this moment, and no one wanted that work undone.
And yet: "What's wrong with Silvia?" Why was her initial fixed-term contract celebrated like a university degree?
Silvia is an attractive young woman with no precise diagnosis. As a child, speech delay was her parents' main concern—Paola and Claudio Freschi eventually had to accept and grapple with a diagnosis of moderate-severe intellectual disability. But "seeing what we didn't like—our daughter's disability and her limits—didn't mean giving up or clipping her wings. Quite the opposite. Starting from the facts on the ground let us make peace with what she can't do (even to laugh about it and tease her) and push hard on what she can develop." When Silvia's parents chose a culinary-assistant track at Anffas after middle school, "it felt like surrender to her intellectual limits, and cost us many tears. But it turned out to be the winning path toward greater self-acceptance and real groundwork for her working future." The program included annual school internships in different roles—work that required meeting and navigating various people and workplaces, learning to be accepted and to accept others. More importantly, she had to master new and crucial skills: using public transit to reach each new job. "We had to manage our anxiety about her moving around Milan, and we became phone-dependent," her mother Paola recalls. She guided Silvia through the metro and bus stations, internship after internship, gradually building her ability to travel alone—and later, accompanied her to the crucial job interview, sitting at the back of the room and speaking only when necessary. "Silvia always felt supported and saw each experience as her schooling for growing up, which meant she didn't feel inferior to her brothers in university." Paola stepped back from her own career ambitions to better support Silvia's development. Every effort aimed at building genuine autonomy on Silvia's own terms.
Easy, then? Not at all. "Silvia found herself thrust into a world demanding adult responsibilities—clocking in, limited vacation days, and the like—that didn't match the self-image she'd built. Those months were hard. We got through them because of her determination, her psychologist's help, our support, and the real warmth and true inclusion the McDonald's staff showed her."
Which brings us to the employer's role—obviously fundamental. We know the law requires companies and public agencies to hire a set percentage of disabled workers. Yet many prefer to pay fines rather than comply. Silvia's story, and those of many other young disabled people, shows us better practices—companies like this one that, by following the law and taking advantage of tax and contribution incentives, create a virtuous cycle starting with a placement project developed, in Silvia's case, with support from the Consorzio SIR Ex Anffas, active in Lombardy.
Over nearly six years with Euroristoro—which operates around 900 employees across several franchised McDonald's locations in Lombardy—Silvia has worked with colleagues and supervisors who learned to know and value her. A team genuinely able to work together, to measure work against her actual capacity, and never to stop pushing her to improve. At the start, Debora, the restaurant director who worked with Silvia for the first two years, says it wasn't simple—"to work with a beautiful young woman whom nobody, until you talked with her properly, would imagine had any difficulties." Day by day, through discoveries and the occasional mistake, Debora writes, "her willingness to show up every day grew our team's values; she's an example to everyone, and praising her in front of the whole team makes us proud of her." Arianna, who greeted Silvia at her first interview nearly six years ago, "had the satisfaction of watching her grow, both personally and professionally." And she recognizes that "Silvia's presence in the restaurant is a source of human richness, challenge, overcoming our own limits, and breaking down barriers—often mental ones, not real ones. Every step forward she takes is a great pride for us, just as much as for her family."
In October 2019, Silvia was hired permanently. The contract, with some flexibility around breaks and rest periods but otherwise matching her colleagues', gives her the elasticity the precise machinery of fast-food service doesn't always offer. Everyone has cared, and continues to care, that the relationship works—ready to manage inevitable difficulties. Claudio, Silvia's father, recalls that the manager, when signing the second contract, told her that after getting to know her well and evaluating her abilities positively, they were committing to keeping her "forever"—like a marriage. Since she started working, her parents say proudly, Silvia feels more grown, responsible, and useful to the restaurant's smooth running. She's built her self-esteem, expanded her relationships, and given purpose to her days, rewarding all our efforts and helping us rediscover the deep meaning of what we live.
Lately, Silvia has also begun experimenting with independent living in a supported home with other disabled people. A gamble, indeed—Silvia's path has proven to be a very wise investment.
The Hiring Chain
A 2019 report on Labor Inclusion for People with Disabilities by the Fondazione Studi Consulenti del Lavoro underscores that twenty years after Italy's Law 68/1999—which governs workplace integration of disabled people—marginalization from work and society remains a reality for people with disabilities. Those hit hardest are those with intellectual disability: prejudice about presumed unreliability runs especially deep. This is why Coordown calls on companies and employers to overcome this stigma. At last, though, comes good news: with the latest ad campaign The Hiring Chain—featuring the unmistakable voice of British singer Sting in an original musical nursery rhyme—Coordown links the first chain. It's the hiring, in late April 2021, of a person with Down syndrome by the fashion house Salvatore Ferragamo.