The Who Behind My Why

Jenny Mullins

People often ask why I became an advocate for students with disabilities. The answer is deeply personal—it began with my daughter.

When my daughter was first diagnosed with autism over 13 years ago, I had no idea how hard I would need to fight for her to receive the education she deserved. Even as a seasoned educator, I found myself overwhelmed. I was unsure how to navigate the special education system from the other side—as a parent. Simply knowing the system doesn’t mean you’re prepared for the emotional toll it takes to have to justify your child’s needs, explain her worth, and fight for her right to learn.

Every IEP meeting, every evaluation, every decision felt like a battle. But those battles taught me something essential: our system often wasn’t built with neurodivergent learners in mind. It wasn’t enough to be involved—I had to become relentless. And through this journey with my daughter, I realized something else: families need advocates. Because if I struggled, how were parents who were unfamiliar with the special education system or its jargon managing?

That’s when my personal mission became a professional calling.

Over the years, I’ve been privileged to advocate for many students, especially those in foster care. These children face challenges that often go unseen in the classroom. They carry invisible backpacks filled with trauma, loss, and instability. Many have had their education repeatedly disrupted by moves, case changes, or a lack of consistent support. They don’t just need someone to speak up for them; they need someone who will stand beside them every step of the way.

From these students, I’ve learned that advocacy isn’t just about services and accommodations—it’s about dignity, trust, and belonging. Now I know to ask more than what a student needs academically. Today my questions include: Who sees this student? Who believes in her? Who is building a safe space for this child to learn and grow?

I advocate because every student deserves someone in their corner. I advocate because systems don’t change unless people inside and outside of them demand better. And I advocate because I’ve seen firsthand how one voice, just one, can completely change a child’s path.

My daughter changed my life. And the students I’ve met along the way continue to shape my purpose. I’ll keep showing up—for her, for them, and for the families still finding their voices—until every child is seen, heard, and valued.