The Backstreet Boys are her favorite musical group. "Harry Potter" is her favorite movie. She digs the Sweet Valley High book series. She enjoys riding horses. She likes candy. And she has white hair.

There is a childlike innocence to 54-year-old Susan Whitehouse, a long-term resident of the Utah State Developmental Center in American Fork. There is also a maturity and ability to communicate that sets her apart.

Mildly mentally retarded, Susan is among the higher functioning individuals at the center. She shares an apartment with four others in a building called Quail Run. The "family" does its own cooking and cleaning. She holds jobs on and off campus.

"She's totally independent," said Randy Jernigan, a staff member who regularly supervises Susan. "If we gave her a driver's license, we'd probably never see her."

Susan tried driving once. Her brother let her take the wheel in a remote area. She hit a tree.

She also tried living in the community, but due to some incidents termed "behaviors," the center proved to be a better fit. She needs supervision to keep her on task.

"I like it here. I have a lot of friends," she said. "I would never leave again."

The developmental center is not a place of confinement for the mentally and physically challenged. But because the state and the courts deem it a restrictive setting, a committee in the Division of Services for People with Disabilities considers other options before placing a person in the center. The goal is to find the least restrictive environment possible.

Consequently, the center is big on offering residents choices and striving to see that their civil rights are upheld.

"They have every, every right that we do," Jernigan said.

Twice a week, Susan gets a ride to Utah Valley State College where she does clerical work assembling packets, shredding papers, rubber stamping forms — in the financial aid office. Jernigan is the driver on this day.

"Do we have enough gas?" Susan wonders.

"We do," Jernigan replies. "We have plenty of gas."

"Good," she says. "We won't have to worry about running out of gas."

Susan greets everyone by name at the office. And they all say hello to her as she rubber-stamps a number onto hundreds of financial aid applications.

"We think she's a hoot, an absolute hoot," said financial aid adviser Juanita Bushman.

Bushman calls Susan a "candy monger" because she is always looking to sneak candy from her office. Susan is supposed to lay off candy.

"She's definitely a bright spot," Bushman said.