The Moment I Became a Champion for Kids

By David Jefferson

My work as an advocate didn’t begin with a planned career change. It started the day I discovered my daughter in a makeshift classroom that looked more like a storage closet than a place of learning. That moment set me on the path I’m still walking today: fighting for children with disabilities and the families who stand beside them.

The Wakeup Call

In 2001, I became a foster parent and eventually adopted four of my five children. Three of them have disabilities, including my oldest, Morgan, who was born with muscular dystrophy and cerebral palsy. Her district preschool provided the support she needed. Things changed, however, in elementary school.

One day, when Morgan was in third grade, I stopped by her school to pick her up for a medical appointment. The front office sent me to the cafeteria, where they said her class met. The cafeteria was dark and empty, but in the corner of the room, I saw a dimly lit hall with a small door. Behind that door, I found Morgan’s self-contained classroom—in what appeared to be a converted storage room.

In the classroom, Morgan’s special education teacher was warm and earnest, but she had only been in the position for a month and was the third teacher to lead the class that year. While I was there, she discussed Morgan’s IEP for the next school year. She wondered if I wanted my daughter to learn to write her name.

Of course I did! How else would she be able to sign a paycheck as an adult? The teacher then asked if Velcro letters or rubber stamps would be best, implying that actual handwriting was beyond Morgan’s reach.

The next day, I asked Morgan’s occupational therapist whether it was unrealistic to expect my daughter to write her name. It wasn’t. Within two sessions—that’s two hours total—she was doing just that.

The whole experience was a lot to take in. When I had envisioned my daughter at school, I certainly hadn’t imagined her in the dungeon. I had also assumed, perhaps naively, that her teachers were as motivated as I was to prepare her for life.

It was true that Morgan likely wouldn’t follow a traditional educational track to college, but it seemed that by third grade her school had given up on providing meaningful learning.

A New Path

I realized that unless I did something, the school’s default low expectations would thwart Morgan’s development. So I began advocating for my daughter.

When I tried to work with the district, I was met with indifference. Eventually, I hired an advocate. At one meeting, the district handed me a copy of the procedural safeguards for parents. That night, I read it cover to cover, learned how many violations had occurred, and filed my first official state complaint. Within the next year, I filed 13 complaints and prevailed in 12 of them.

I kept fighting for Morgan and my other kids. After years of advocating for my own children, I reached a turning point and left the corporate world to support students with disabilities and their families full-time. In 2012, I founded Parent Support Arizona. Since then, the organization has helped thousands of parents across the state navigate education, behavioral health, and developmental disability services.

Today, I also serve on the board of the Council of Parent Attorneys and Advocates (COPAA) and co-chair its Social Racial Equity Committee, where I train hundreds of advocates nationwide each year. I also had the chance to co-author the book Understanding Exceptional with my friend, neuropsychologist Dr. John Mather, to offer parents the compassionate, practical guidance I once needed myself.

If my journey shows anything, it’s that parents can spark powerful change when they refuse to give up. I’ve been at this work for 15 years now. And as long as there are families fighting for their kids, I’ll be right alongside them.