By Holly Rusch for The Daily Journal
Development imagines living community for adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities
After 24 years of planning and a COVID-induced delay, the Big Wave Project is launching construction, with plans for the housing and community hub for adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities to be completed by spring 2026.
The development, located in Half Moon Bay, will be one of the first of its kind for residents, with 38 units and a wide variety of programs — including a culinary academy, life skills, job training, recreation and fitness and a working farm — as well as a social community.
It was originally set to break ground in 2020, the group faced supply chain issues and construction delays, ultimately taking the time to redesign and repermit the facility.
One major force behind the project is the parents of Big Wave’s future residents. As their children term out of continuing education and schooling, creating a fulfilling and meaningful future for them is a priority — and a challenge.
Leslie Nordin, president of Big Wave’s group nonprofit board, said she came across the organization in 2021 while looking for a long-term community for her son, Sawyer, who is blind and autistic. Like many families, since they found Big Wave, they’ve put endless hours and their own professional skill sets into making the project a reality for their son.
“It’s been life-changing for us, knowing there’s a future for Sawyer, and it’s one we had hoped and envisioned,” she said. “It means so much to be able to have a hand in shaping that, not just for Sawyer, but so many other individuals in his circumstance.”
The project aims to address a growing need with few solutions — in the Bay Area, there are 55,000 adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities, over half are 18, Julie Shenkman, Big Wave group board director, said. Her son, Sam, is a future resident.
“The vision we have is to not only provide housing, but provide community for these people, so they have friends, activities and social opportunities,” she said. “Also, to provide opportunities for them to continue education and potential employment. It’s kind of like a community hub, or almost a little town for adults with special needs.”
At $37 million, raising money for the development itself has been no easy feat. It currently operates on a membership model, where families can pay a one-time fee to ensure access to a residential unit. There are four membership units remaining, and seven reserved on a by-need basis. Those families will still need to pay rent on the units — though Big Wave’s goal is to keep them at accessible prices — but will not have to pay the membership fee.
The project is also funded through private donations and grants, Nordin said. If it’s a success, the group’s goal is to be a model for future developments.
Big Wave also operates on a participatory basis, allowing residents to decide what programs to participate in and how to spend their days.
Jeanne Colson’s daughter Sarah is a future resident of Big Wave who is a brain tumor survivor and loves art and playing basketball through a Special Olympics program. The development will allow Sarah a place to fuel her passions, she said.
“The key for Sarah’s happiness is that she be supported. She was a normally developing child before she was diagnosed. She still has a lot of skills: art, she’s really good at figuring things out,” Colson said. “She’s able to do all that when she’s appropriately supported.”
The benefits of a housing development like Big Wave are dual: It offers residents community and socialization into their adult years while providing families peace of mind for the future, when they’re no longer able to care for their children.
“Our son, he’s a very happy person, but he’s extremely social. The last thing he wants to do is hang around with mom and dad, like any 23-year-old, he wants to be around his friends, have his own activity and purpose,” Shenkman said.
Being a parent of a child with special needs, you’re forced to quickly become an advocate, Nordin said. This project is a result of that passion and an understanding that failure is not an option.
“We all just had to say, ‘Yeah, we’re all too busy.’ We’re all caregivers, many of us, our sons and daughters still live with us, but it just became, if we don’t do it, no one else is going to. I think it’s just reflective of the journey you’re on as parents,” she said. “No one’s going to do it. You’re it for your son or daughter.”