Innovating for inclusivity

"Do you think he has Down syndrome?" Ben remembers asking the nurse if she thought their son had an extra copy of chromosome 21, the most common chromosomal condition in the U.S. She looked for a few physical markers—a simian crease on his palm, the gap between his first and second toe. 

"No, I don't think so," she assured him. 

"I remember feeling this sort of, semi-wash of relief, that he didn't have Down syndrome." Ben recalls. A few days later, though, definitive test results upended that relief. The nurse was wrong. Beau did, in fact, have Down syndrome.

The Wrights were overcome with emotion. "We wept. We cried. We were just devastated, you know. We couldn't believe it," says Ben about the shock and sadness they felt when they received the news. "It's never easy to hear that what you expected turns out to be something else."

But their grief was short lived. Within a few days, there was a seismic shift in their outlook. "We just looked at each other and said, this is our son. And he is who he is. He's who he's supposed to be." From that point forward, they dove in. They didn’t know much about Down syndrome, so they learned everything they could. Their love for their son drove them to find every possible way to provide for him and support his needs. They immersed themselves in the community that supports people with IDD and became fierce advocates. While they don’t look back proudly on their initial reaction to Beau’s diagnosis, they’re grateful for the shift in their perspective.

Still, Bitty's diagnosis really struck them. "It sits you up straight in your chair when you have a child born with a disability, right? When you have a second child born with the same disability, that really gets your attention," Ben explains. As their advocacy continued, and even intensified, Amy and Ben noticed something that didn't sit well with them about the support system for people with IDD.

The Wrights will tell you that they don’t ascribe any shame to having disabilities, that it’s just part of the human condition, and the lives of people with IDD have just as much value as those without. Yet as they see it, socially and culturally, there’s little appreciation for that value, especially in the workforce.

"Once they get out of the public-school system, you know, it's just the lights go out. It's crickets." Ben explains. "You don't really see them in the workplace. Occasionally, you'll see somebody bagging groceries, you'll see somebody clearing tables, you'll see somebody breaking down boxes. And these are all jobs and there's nothing wrong with them. But that's all you ever saw," he says. "And we just thought, really? Is that really it?" Ben and Amy knew that it wouldn't be long before their kids would find themselves in the same position. To the Wright family, that was not acceptable.  

Abby Wilson, the general manager of the Annapolis shop, agrees. 

"They take so much pride. They all do, in every role they get. They are so eager to learn," she says. Abby is happy to slow down and take a little extra time with employees who are learning something new, "because once they learn the ropes, they can get it." Jamie Herman, another employee on Abby's team, is a great example. "She just started on the register and her growth with the register is tremendous." Jamie now operates the register seamlessly and independently, with little oversight from Abby.

Register skills aren't the only thing Jamie brings to the table. Clearly the comedian of the crew, she has them all in stitches on a regular basis. In a heartfelt moment, when Abby notes that her employees are some of her best friends, Jamie doesn't miss a beat: "No I'm not." As her coworkers protest through their laughter, Jamie follows up with a quick "I'm kidding!" Her comedic prowess even extends to slapstick: She chuckles, waiting for the team to notice as she sprays a table with an over-the-top amount of cleaning spray, attempts to scan her shoe at the register, or poses as a customer and orders drinks from her coworkers. Her quips and antics keep the mood light and energetic.   

Maddie Monzo rounds out the shift, and she's a ray of sunshine. A master drink maker, she focuses on the task at hand and diligently fills orders despite the many conversations and distractions around her. Her hand-crafted creations are decadent and adorned with uplifting handwritten messages, like "You are amazing!" Visit on the right day and you might find her spreading positivity through song—the crew happens to store a karaoke machine in the back, just in case the day calls for an impromptu musical performance. Maddie knows all the words to "Let It Go" if you're looking for a song request.

Even if you don't catch a karaoke session, it's impossible to visit Bitty and Beau's without leaving in a better mood. The employees just have that effect. Whether you stay for a few minutes or a few hours, you connect with them, and that connection has the power to change your perspective. For Abby, seeing customers go through that transformation is one of the most rewarding parts of the job.

"Their minds just fully change,” she says, “because [the employees] are just so capable. All of them are so capable of doing so much."

At its core, Ben notes, that's what Bitty and Beau's is all about. "The coffee shop is really a venue, a platform for people with and without disabilities to experience each other.” He points out that the experience dissolves the apprehension and mystery that surrounds people with disabilities, adding, "It sounds dramatic, but you're forever changed by that. You know, you can't unsee what you see. You can't unfeel what you feel when you're in one of these coffee shops."

There's a subtlety to their innovation, but the Wrights have intentionally designed every detail of their operation to further that mission. "Most of our innovation is around getting the precious busywork that you tend to see in specialty coffee shops out, and let the guest and the employees interact with each other." That open counter that gives you a view of the back? That's so you can easily chat with the employees. You can also observe them working and see how the managers interact with them, guiding them as needed without treating them like children.

The playing cards serve a purpose, too. For some employees, writing and reading can be difficult. They may not know how to spell or pronounce a name correctly. Playing cards eliminate these problems. Plus, they foster interaction because the employees collect the cards when they give you the order, “instead of just slamming your drink down on the counter and barking out your name and going on to make the next drink. There's a real intentionality to connecting at the point of sale and again at the pickup." Fully automated machines, an intuitive point-of-sale system with pictures, and a no-cash policy also reduce the unnecessary burdens on employees. Ben acknowledges that while many employees can handle complex tasks, and still more could be trained to do so, "it keeps their heads down, focused on it, concentrating on it. Which means that their heads are not up, meeting the gaze of the customer and having that human interaction."

The Wrights' innovative approach and dedication to customer experience is paying off. Within a few months of opening the first store in Wilmington, they were inundated with franchise requests. They considered them early on, but decided to take a few years to hone their practices, opening a few more locations and refining their operations as they went. The Wrights found that while they could open about one corporate shop per year, franchising would multiply their growth and expand their reach, exponentially furthering their mission of showing the world the value of people with IDD. In 2020, they forged ahead. Two years in, they've sold close to 25 franchises, and they feel fortunate that so many people are willing to take a chance on an emerging brand and model. With every new shop, Bitty and Beau's is a hit in the community. It seems that the Wrights' desire to make sure their kids would have jobs and feel valued as adults was universal among people with disabilities and their families.

With the demand for more Bitty and Beau's locations and the growth of their company, protecting their intellectual property is vital. Bittybeau, Inc. owns two registered trademarks. U.S. registration No. 5262177 is for their logo. Step in for a visit, and chances are you'll see it at least a few times, either on the employees' aprons, the coffee cups, or on their merchandise. U.S. registration No. 5262176 is for the words "Bitty & Beau's Coffee" in special characters. Registering a trademark in standard characters provides broad protection because you can use the trademark regardless of font, color, or other stylization of the text. Ben sheds light on the value of these trademarks.

"Well, it's our brand identity. It's super important,” he says. “Because our model currently is, we put one Bitty and Beaus coffee shop per city. So, you know, that creates additional challenges for brand awareness in the city. We don’t have a dozen locations in one town, so having that identifiable logo is critical."

Their brand is further strengthened by slogans that pique your interest, like "It's more than a cup of coffee" and "A human rights movement disguised as a coffee shop." Others get straight to the point on the Wrights' message to the world: "Radically inclusive" and "Not broken" adorn T-shirts and ball caps in their merchandise section. With every piece of their branding, Bitty and Beau's brings the focus to what sets them apart from other coffee shops.

"What really makes us different is not the coffee, it's who serves the coffee,” says Ben. “I can think of a new slogan. It's 'Where the coffee is great, but the people are greater.' "

While the Wrights aim to showcase their singularity in the industry, their vision for the future is that Bitty and Beau's won't stand out from the crowd. They hope that every business will make room for people with IDD. 

"The way forward is innovation, business innovation,” says Ben. “Having people take off the charity glasses when it comes to people with IDD and view them as real people who demand innovation as much as anybody who doesn't have a disability."

The business world has yet to fully embrace the IDD community, but Amy, Ben, and their growing family of employees are showing how innovative businesses with a creative approach and a trademarked brand can not only make an impact, but thrive.