‘Patrice: The Movie’ explores disabled couple’s highs and lows

Patrice Jetter is a beloved New Jersey school crossing guard, carrying herself with an infectious optimism and vigor each day. She’s also found the love of her life in her late 50s.
However, that love is complicated by the fact that her partner, Garry Wickham, is also disabled, and if the couple gets married or even moves in together, they will see a cut in the Social Security benefits they need to survive and would likely lose their Medicaid.
“Patrice: The Movie” explores their story in a feature-length documentary rom-com that launches Sept. 30 on Hulu. It’s directed by Ted Passon, who has known Jetter for 20 years, and produced by Kyla Harris, Innbo Shim, and Emily Spivack.
The documentary follows Jetter and Wickham in the wake of their fateful decision to plan a commitment ceremony that could risk their entire future, and recreates some of Jetter’s formative moments in colorful theatrical sequences. She plays herself, alongside a cast of children.
Jetter wears leg braces and walks with a crutch, and lives independently in her own apartment — a place she loves decorating in her own style.
“I am a totally cool person with a disability who could do most anything with the exception of bungee jumping, pyrotechnics and uber-dangerous stunts, because then I need a stunt double for that,” she said.
Wickham uses a wheelchair. The two of them are an ice skating duo that hit the ice for Special Olympics pairs figure skating. Jetter works out the choreography and Wickham — New Jersey’s first Special Olympics figure skater who’s in a wheelchair — chooses the music.
“I really love skating with Garry a lot. I can’t even describe it. He’s everything,” Jetter said. “When I’m skating, I feel like I’m free. But in real life, things aren’t so easy.”
One night, the pair were going to sleep when Wickham popped the question.
“I hugged him and I gave him a big kiss and I told him yes,” Jetter said of that moment.
However, their dependence on government benefits means they can’t afford to take that step.
“If you get married and you’re collecting a Social Security benefit through supplemental security income, SSI, your benefit will be cut,” disability lawyer Maria Fischer told Jetter, before turning to Wickham. “And you would probably lose your Medicaid benefits.”
Even living together would cause their benefits to be cut due to a provision known as the hold out rule. If a couple presents themselves to the community as married, even without legally getting married, they are treated as married by the benefit system.
“The hardest thing is never being able to live with Garry,” Jetter said of the situation. “Garry is only 20 minutes away, but it feels like we’re in a long-distance relationship.”
Since they can’t get legally married, they decided to express their love in a commitment ceremony — even bringing rings to symbolize their relationship.
“These are promise rings,” Wickham said. “And hopefully, someday when we actually get married, if they change the laws, we can turn these into wedding rings.”
In an effort to change the situation for Americans with disabilities, Rep. Jimmy Panetta of California in 2022 introduced the Marriage Equality for Disabled Adults Act in the House of Representatives. If signed into law, it would allow Jetter and Wickham and others in similar situations to tie the knot without losing their benefits. However, it has yet to make it through Congress.
“We shouldn’t have people sacrificing them being on medical benefits just because they want to get married and that’s why I put forward this bill. And we’re slowly seeing people get on board with this,” Panetta said. “It’s not just about making people happy, unfortunately. It’s also about paying for it. And that’s what makes it difficult.”
Disability rights lawyer Ayesha Lewis acknowledged that cost is the issue. In 2021, Social Security estimated that enacting the bill’s provisions would cost $510 billion from that year through 2030.
“There isn’t really a thought to what would happen if people lose their benefits and have to be in an institution, which is also much more expensive,” she said.
That’s a world Jetter didn’t want to return to, having been sent to an institution in the ’80s. After spending two-and-a-half years in that environment, adjusting to the outside world was a challenge.
“I had to learn how to be outside all over again because it’s like a self-contained world and that took a while to get used to,” she said. “And the fear of ending up back in one of these places; I don’t take anything that I have for granted.”
Despite this, Jetter was determined to live on her own.
“I decided I was going to do everything that I couldn’t do living with my mom. I remember having ice cream at 4:30 a.m. just because I could. I also had ice cream for breakfast because I could do that, too,” she said. “I had never experienced that kind of freedom, but I had no idea how much anything cost. I had to start looking for work.”
After applying multiple times, she got her job as a crossing guard — a position she loved because it gave her the opportunity to interact with the local children.
Despite this, Jetter’s financial situation was so precarious that her accessible van breaking down meant she couldn’t travel to her job. Getting that van brought its own challenges.
“The only reason why I was able to get the last van I had is because of raising money through GoFundMe. I didn’t know that GoFundMe counted as income against my benefits,” she said. “So the government cut me off. I ended up in homelessness prevention, and I had got extremely depressed.”
Fortunately, Jetter found a different approach to bringing in money for the new van.
“One of my friends found a nonprofit that helps people with disabilities like myself raise money for stuff that we need,” she said. “The money doesn’t come to me, and they can’t count it as income.”
The nonprofit Help Hope Live maintains discretion over the funds people raise on the platform, it notes, so that money is less likely to jeopardize people’s eligibility for asset-based assistance programs.
Jetter and Wickham eventually turned their commitment ceremony idea into a protest in Washington, DC — in which Jetter presided over a symbolic mass commitment ceremony in front of the Capitol Building with other disabled couples facing the same penalties for marrying.
“We still can’t live together,” Jetter said. “We still can’t ever call each other husband and wife, but at least we still have each other.”