Ady Schubert was diagnosed with autism when she was two years old. Her mom, Chrissy, immediately signed her up for every treatment and study she could in hopes they would help her non-verbal daughter. She and her husband, Brian, even enrolled Ady in the best school in Birmingham for autism, despite the fact tuition did not fit into their budget. Nevertheless, Ady didn’t progress—in fact, she regressed. Every time she was given anesthesia, it changed her life. After surgery for inner tubes, she came home and never slept through the night again.
She quickly became self-injurious: She would bite herself, pull her hair out of her head, and scream from morning to night. Moreover, she refused to wear clothes, even to school. Chrissy would try to make Ady put on her clothes for almost an hour every morning, but without fail, she’d just rip them off. “It was like wrestling with an alligator,” Chrissy jokes. Eventually, Chrissy gave up and started wrapping Ady in a blanket and taking her to school, where Chrissy and five other therapists would work together to clothe Ady in the school bathroom.
Afraid of bawling her eyes out at the hint of concern from the staff about how she was doing, Chrissy learned to keep her head down, avoid eye contact, and immediately head to her car after dropping Ady off. Ady’s struggles were affecting everything about Brian and Chrissy’s lives, including their marriage. Not only Ady would smear poop on the walls, she refused to listen to them or respond.
In 2015, Ady went from being in the group setting at school to requiring one-on-one care, which practically doubled tuition. Fortunately, some family friends from Georgia raised money so the Schuberts could afford to keep Ady in school. Brian was soon inspired to start a nonprofit to do something to help others like Ady. Chrissy wasn’t so enthused at the idea, suggesting that they wait until they’d made it over their hurdles before trying to help others. Yet between proddings from God and her church, she opened to the idea of turning her pain into purpose. So, in 2015, Brian and Chrissy Schubert founded Ady’s Big Army to help special needs families. The avenues through which they did this varied: sometimes it was respite “date nights” for parents, and other times it was swim lessons for children like Ady, who were determined to drown. What they offered was based on what they felt they needed at the time with Ady.
Ady soon thereafter began a program that assumed competency. Instead of talking about her as if she couldn’t hear them, her parents began speaking as if she could understand. Her tutor taught her history, science, and math. Ady responded well and quickly started spelling letters and words on a board. In 2018, before she turned 9, she spelled her first poem.
Chrissy can still remember seeing Ady spell out words to her that changed her forever: “It’s okay mom I’m in here.” It was in that moment that a breakthrough occurred for the mom who had watched her child not respond in observation rooms for years and years. “I could feel His [God’s] love and goodness to me,” says Chrissy.
Ady became a chatty speller, explaining how she sees the world, how she sees music in colors, and how painful it is to walk in a room and everyone says hi to all but her. She spelled to her parents that she needed purpose. She shared that she wanted to make her mark on the world too, just like she had seen her parents do. And at 10 years old, she began to spell about building a community for people like her.
The Schubert family researched and then visited the top five God-centered special needs communities across the country. They found their blueprint for what they hoped to replicate at Brookwood in Georgetown in Georgetown, Texas. “You could feel God there more than in most churches I’ve been in,” Chrissy states. “They were so proud of their work. The staff and citizens were mutually benefiting each other.”
Now, Ady’s Big Army is an educational nonprofit program that teaches post-high school adults with disabilities how to create products (including dog treats, hand soaps, room sprays, jewelry, pies, art, spice grinders, and granola) that they then sell to people in the community at pop-up markets. The Ady’s Big Army staff and volunteers even train the citizens in food safety courses so they can legally produce and sell their baked goods. Additionally, they have nurses who do their clinicals with Ady’s Big Army to keep the citizens safe, healthy, and happy. Their motto is to be “a God-centered vocational community for adults with disabilities.”
They kicked the replication plan off on Valentine’s Day in 2023 with six citizens—the day was intentionally chosen because in all Ady’s initial letters, she wrote about love. “More love is all you need,” she kept repeating. Since then, they have aimed to add a new citizen to their program each month. The program currently operates out of Lakeside Baptist Church, where all eighteen citizens use the facilities and the kitchen to craft their products Monday through Thursday year-round. (Except, of course, when they go on field trips!) There you will see the fullness of humanity on display. Not to mention, Ady is thriving; all those behaviors went away when they started talking to her differently and let her just be.
Ady’s Big Army is not done dreaming, however. Phase 2 is starting next year, with plans for a retail store, cafe, and a larger space for the vocational program on land in hopefully northern Shelby County. In 2030, Phase 3 will begin, which entails 50 acres (likely further out of the Birmingham area) for a residential community for men and women, along with a tiny home village and a community center where they can all eat together. In 2032, they hope to bring the community to them in a reverse-inclusion model with a wedding chapel, drive-in movie theater, little markets, and a pet boutique.
Ady’s Big Army is truly enabling their citizens to live out their mission statement: “Where adults with special needs change the world.”
If you want to volunteer, donate, or have questions, visit adysbigarmy.org.
