The Heart of an Advocate


There’s no way around it: living with a disability is difficult. But choosing to be an advocate and a leader for the disability community? That is even harder.

Welcome to our latest Community Blog installment. Here at The Advocacy Life, we believe in pulling back the curtain on what it truly means to represent a movement. Often, when people think of leadership, they think of “fame, fortune, and finish lines.” But in the world of disability advocacy, the reality looks a lot different.

If you are looking for a get-rich-quick scheme, advocacy is not it. More often than not, there is no money involved. At best, you might be reimbursed for your expenses; realistically, you’ll likely lose more financially than you’ll ever gain.
It isn’t about fame, either. I’ve been blogging for four years, and I haven’t hit 500 followers. On YouTube, I’m under 200. These aren’t the kind of metrics that make you a “social media influencer.” And let’s be honest—it doesn’t exactly help your dating life. There is nothing less “impressive” to a potential partner than saying you stayed up all night drafting bylaws for a non-profit organization.

It isn’t even about job security or status. If I resigned tomorrow, the mission would continue. Someone else would step in to fill the seat. So, if there’s no money, no fame, and no status, it leads to one fundamental question:

For the Ones Who Can’t Speak
The reason I choose to dedicate my life to this work is simple: I do it for the ones who can’t speak for themselves.
I have a profound love for my brothers and sisters who are non-verbal. I love the way they communicate their needs and desires through action, presence, and spirit, even when they can’t find the words. I consider it a sacred responsibility to be the interpreter for those who just need a little extra time to be understood.

When leaders or policymakers call me for input, I don’t pick up the phone for credit. I pick it up because there is an unmet need in our community, and someone has to “man up” or “woman up” to address it.

It infuriates me when I hear people say, “I can’t be an advocate  or “I’m just not the advocacy type.” When you live with a disability, this is your community. These are your people. Whether you like it or not, when you speak up, you aren’t just speaking for yourself—you are speaking on behalf of a community. Yes, your individual circumstances are unique, but your voice contributes to the collective volume of our movement.

When you choose silence, or when you say you “can’t do it,” you aren’t just letting yourself down—you’re letting down the community you are a part of. You are letting down a vital part of the American story.

To my fellow men and women with disabilities: we need you. The future of our rights and our resources depends on a collective effort. We cannot build a better future if only a few of us are willing to do the thankless work of drafting bylaws, attending meetings, and speaking truth to power.

If you feel like you don’t know how to start, reach out to us. That is why this Community Blog exists—to provide the tools, the encouragement, and the platform for others to find their voice.
We need to get together now, not later. Because when we speak together, we create a future where everyone is heard.

Thank you for reading this week’s Community Blog. If this resonated with you, please share it with a fellow advocate who needs to hear that their hard work—even when unpaid and unnoticed—matters.Keep on rolling. Keep on living.

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