FIX THE DAMN SYSTEM: Why Michigan’s Autism Families Don’t Need Another Slogan—They Need a Navigator

For years, Michigan politicians have rallied around one big, punchy promise:

“Fix the damn roads.”

Catchy. Relatable. Easy to visualize.

A bumper-sticker solution to a visible problem.

But here’s the thing no one wants to talk about:

Parents of autistic children in Michigan don’t need smoother asphalt.

They need a system they can actually navigate.

Because while the roads may be full of potholes, the autism services ecosystem in this state is a sinkhole—invisible until you fall through it, and by then, you’re already drowning.

When You’re Parenting a Disabled Child, the Road You Travel Isn’t Concrete—It’s Bureaucracy

Michigan’s autism support landscape is not one system.

It’s twelve systems.

Each with its own rules, referrals, phone numbers, portals, denials, appeals, and “you actually need to call this department instead.”

You don’t get one map.

You get:

  • one for Medicaid

  • one for private insurance

  • one for your PIHP

  • one for your CMH

  • one for your hospital system

  • one for school

  • one for early intervention

  • one for respite

  • one for CLS

  • one for behavioral health

  • one for disability services

  • one for… whatever acronym you stumble into next

It’s like driving through a state where each county uses a different GPS, written in a different language, and none of them have updated since 2012.

And Michigan’s response?

Cut the only statewide navigation tool that actually worked.

AAoM Navigator: The $1M Michigan Can’t Afford to Lose - And Families Can’t Afford to Be Without

For years, the Autism Alliance of Michigan (AAoM) ran the single most effective, user-centered navigation tool in the state:

The Navigator Program.

A lifeline.

A real human who would:

  • understand your county

  • understand your insurance

  • understand your child

  • and guide you through the maze

  • with actual lived awareness of autism care

It wasn’t just a list.

It was expertise.

It was hope.

And the state funded it.

Until it didn’t.

Michigan cut its $1M support.

One million dollars.

A rounding error in the state budget.

A life raft for families who are drowning.

Meanwhile, autism prevalence keeps climbing.

Needs keep climbing.

Costs keep climbing.

So the math ain’t mathing - unless you assume someone decided families should figure it out themselves.

Let’s Be Blunt: The Roads Got a Slogan. Autism Families Got Shrugs.

If a bridge were collapsing, you’d see it on the news.

If a highway buckled, crews would be on-site within days.

But when Michigan’s autism system collapses?

  • No press conference.

  • No infrastructure bill.

  • No urgency.

  • No accountability.

Families are left:

  • navigating outdated websites

  • calling disconnected numbers

  • waiting months for evaluations

  • being bounced between agencies

  • coordinating care with no coordinator

  • learning systems the hard way—by living through their failures

All while raising children who need support now, not eventually.

Imagine if the state said:

“We know the road is broken.

We know it’s dangerous.

But we decided not to fix it this year.

Just try a different street. Good luck.”

That’s Michigan autism navigation.

Indiana Has What Michigan Pretends It Has

Let’s talk about Indiana because that’s the comparison families keep bringing to me. Indiana offers a simple, state-run, publicly accessible tool:

“Find a Local Service Provider.”

Clean, centralized, transparent.

You click your county.

You click your service type.

You get a list.

Michigan families don’t get a list.

They get a labyrinth.

They get siloed databases built for administrators, not parents.

They get provider lookups for hospital networks that don’t talk to each other.

They get CMH directories that contradict Medicaid directories that contradict school referrals.

It’s a miracle anyone gets care at all.

Michigan Doesn’t Need New Roads. Michigan Needs a New Compass.

Autistic children are not infrastructure problems—they are human beings.

But the system that determines whether they receive support?

That is infrastructure.

And right now, it’s crumbling beneath families’ feet.

What would “Fix the Damn System” look like?

It looks like:

1. Statewide, centralized navigation

One directory.

One portal.

One entry point.

Period.

2. Restore the AAoM Navigator funding

Immediately.

Not eventually.

Not “in the next fiscal review.”

Now.

3. Accountability for every PIHP and CMH

If a parent can’t figure out how to access care,

that’s not a parent problem. That’s a system design failure.

4. Transparency

No more silos.

No more “you need to call someone else.”

No more hidden referral pathways.

Fix the damn system.

Because families don’t live in spreadsheets or policy memos.

They live in real houses, with real children, and real crises that cannot wait for another fiscal year.

Michigan made autism navigation a patchwork.

Michigan can un-make it.

So yeah, fix the roads.

Pave every mile if you want.

But if the state can mobilize an entire infrastructure plan for concrete,

it can mobilize one for human beings.

Especially the ones who can’t advocate for themselves.

Fix the damn system.

Restore the Navigator.

And give Michigan families the map they deserve.

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