We can teach policies. We can teach procedures.
We can teach documentation.
We can teach medication administration according to the requirements of the position.
We can teach someone how True North operates.
But there are some things that are much harder to teach.
How you treat people is one of them.
As we begin thinking about the people who will eventually work in a True North Living home, we’re not simply asking:
“Can this person do the job?”
We’re asking:
“Is this the kind of person we want living alongside our residents for twelve hours at a time?”
Because that’s really what the job is.
You’re not just working in someone’s home.
You’re entering someone’s home.
That distinction matters.
We want people who genuinely like people.
This may sound obvious. It isn’t.
Working with adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities isn’t simply about completing a list of tasks.
It’s about relationships.
It’s talking with someone while they make breakfast.
It’s laughing at the same joke for the tenth time.
It’s encouraging someone to try something they’ve never done.
It’s sitting quietly with someone who needs a little space.
It’s celebrating the small victories.
And sometimes it’s having the patience to explain the same thing again.
And again. And possibly…again.
We want employees who see the person—not just the disability.
We want patience.
Things don’t always happen on our preferred schedule.
Someone may need extra time to process a question.
Someone may struggle with a transition.
Someone may become frustrated.
Someone may have a difficult day.
Someone may make a mistake.
Our response matters.
Patience doesn’t mean allowing unsafe behavior or having no expectations.
It means recognizing that how we respond can influence what happens next.
A calm person can help create a calm environment.
We want curiosity.
This may be one of the most important qualities we look for.
When something happens, we don’t want the automatic response to be:
“They are just being difficult.”
We want someone who thinks:
“I wonder what’s going on.”
Why did the person’s behavior change?
What happened before it?
Could they be overwhelmed?
Did something in the environment change?
Are they tired?
Are they communicating something?
Could they be uncomfortable or sick?
Curiosity doesn’t mean ignoring behavior.
It means looking beyond the surface.
We want people who understand that independence is the goal.
A good employee isn’t necessarily the person who can do everything for a resident.
Sometimes a great employee is the person who knows when not to do something.
If a resident can make their own breakfast, let them make it.
If they can fold their own laundry, let them fold it.
If they can make a choice, give them the choice.
If they can complete part of a task, support them through that part instead of taking over.
It may be faster to do something for someone. But faster isn’t always better.
Our job is not to make residents dependent on us.
Our job is to help them be as independent as possible.
We want people who can redirect without humiliating.
There will be expectations. There will be house rules.
There will be situations where someone needs guidance.
But correction doesn’t require embarrassment.
We don’t believe in talking down to adults.
We don’t believe in treating adults like children simply because they have a disability.
We don’t believe that being firm requires being harsh.
A person can be redirected while still being treated with dignity.
Respect isn’t optional.
We want people who can stay calm.
Residential work can occasionally be unpredictable.
Someone may become overwhelmed. Plans may change.
A transportation problem may occur. A resident may have a difficult day.
An emergency may happen.
We need employees who can think rather than panic. Who can follow procedures.
Who know when to call for help. Who can communicate clearly.
And who understand that their own emotional response can affect everyone else in the home.
We don’t expect employees to be robots. We do expect professionalism.
We want people who communicate.
If something happened, tell us.
If something concerns you, tell us.
If you don’t understand a policy, ask.
If you made a mistake, report it.
If you notice a change in a resident, document it and communicate it.
We would much rather hear:
“I think something is different and I’m not sure why.”
than discover three days later that someone noticed something and said nothing.
Silence doesn’t protect anyone.
Communication does.
We want people who can accept feedback.
Nobody knows everything.
Not the newest employee.
Not the most experienced employee.
Not the administrator.
Not the nurse.
Not the owner.
We’re building True North with the expectation that we will continue learning.
That means employees need to be able to receive feedback without becoming defensive.
And leadership needs to be able to receive feedback from employees, too.
If someone sees a better way to do something, we want to hear it.
A good idea doesn’t become less valuable because it came from someone who isn’t the boss.
We want people who are dependable.
This one is simple.
If you’re scheduled to work, we need you to show up.
If you’re going to be late, communicate.
If you’re sick, communicate as early as possible.
If you see a problem, don’t assume someone else will handle it.
The residents shouldn’t have to wonder whether the person who is supposed to be there will actually show up.
Reliability is part of providing good care.
We want people who understand confidentiality.
A resident’s life isn’t entertainment. Their diagnosis isn’t gossip.
Their behavior isn’t something to discuss with friends.
Their medical information isn’t something to share on social media.
Their family circumstances aren’t anyone else’s business.
Employees will have access to private information because they need it to do their jobs.
That access comes with responsibility.
Privacy is part of dignity.
We want people who can have fun.
Yes. Seriously.
This is a home.
People laugh in homes. They watch movies. They listen to music.
They play games. They cook. They argue about what to watch.
They celebrate birthdays. They tell bad jokes. They have ordinary days.
We want employees who understand that supporting someone doesn’t mean making every interaction clinical.
Sometimes the best part of the day might be sitting around the kitchen table talking about absolutely nothing.
And that’s okay.
We don’t need superheroes.
We’re not looking for perfect people.
We’re looking for good people who are willing to learn.
Someone who has compassion.
Someone who can be trusted.
Someone who respects boundaries.
Someone who can follow directions.
Someone who can think independently when appropriate.
Someone who understands that every resident is an adult with their own personality, preferences and rights.
Someone who can say:
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”
That answer is perfectly acceptable.
Pretending to know something you don’t know is not.
And there is one quality that may matter most.
See the potential.
Don’t walk into the house thinking:
“This is what this person can’t do.”
Walk in asking:
“What can they do?”
And then:
“What could they learn to do?”
Maybe the answer surprises us.
Maybe someone learns to cook a meal independently.
Maybe someone gets a job.
Maybe someone learns a new route through the community.
Maybe someone becomes comfortable doing something their family never thought they’d be able to do.
Maybe the biggest accomplishment is something that looks tiny to everyone else.
It doesn’t matter.
If it matters to that person, it matters to us.
We’re building a culture, not just a staff schedule.
The first employees at True North will help establish what this organization becomes.
They will teach residents what they can expect from us.
They will teach future employees what “True North” means.
And they will help create the atmosphere of the home.
That’s a responsibility we take seriously.
We’re not looking for people who simply want a paycheck.
We’re looking for people who understand that the person living in that house is someone’s loved one, someone’s friend, someone’s child—and most importantly, a person with a life of their own.
We want employees who will protect that person’s dignity.
Encourage their independence.
Respect their choices.
Listen when they communicate.
Speak up when something isn’t right.
And celebrate what they can do.
Because ultimately, we’re not hiring someone to take care of residents.
We’re looking for people who will support residents in taking care of themselves.
There is a difference.
And at True North Living, that difference matters.
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