Some of the heaviest things people carry cannot be seen.
An employee may meet every deadline while worrying that taking time off to care for an elderly parent could cost them their job. A student may appear distracted while working twice as hard to process an overwhelming classroom. A colleague who seems confident may privately feel like an impersonator, waiting for someone to discover that they do not belong.
These burdens travel with us like an invisible backpack—filled with health concerns, family responsibilities, sensory needs, financial pressure, fear, grief, and self-doubt. Because no one else can see the weight, the person carrying it may be expected to move through the world as though the backpack were empty.
That tension was at the center of my conversation on Most People Don’t… But You Do!: a struggle can be invisible without being insignificant, and a person can need support without being less capable or valuable.
What We Carry in the Invisible Backpack
The invisible-backpack exercise asks us to imagine the private concerns a person may bring into a room. The point is not to guess someone’s diagnosis or demand disclosure. It is to remember that behavior has context—and that compassion should not depend on proof.
For people with unseen disabilities, the pressure to hide can become an additional burden. Asking for an accommodation may feel risky. Rest can be mistaken for laziness. Sensory protection can be viewed as antisocial. A person may spend so much energy trying to appear “fine” that little remains for the task itself.
Helping Yourself Can Include Asking for Help
Self-advocacy often begins by naming what you need. Strength may look like requesting an accommodation, contacting a support organization, speaking with a trusted friend, or giving yourself permission to stop performing wellness for other people.
Community is part of that process. Service and kindness reconnect us to purpose, but they also remind us that everyone sometimes occupies both roles: the person offering a hand and the person who needs one.
A Pause That Became a Pivot
My work grew from lived experience, a career spanning media, education, organizational leadership, and advocacy, and a conviction that difference should be recognized as a source of strength.
The pandemic created a profound pause. It also became a moment when long-held ideas could take form. Experience, education, personality, and a desire to give back moved into a connected collection of projects serving children, families, educators, faith communities, writers, and adults navigating unseen disabilities.
Turning Advocacy Into an Ecosystem
At the center is Dr. Disruptor, a platform focused on challenging assumptions, advancing accommodations and advocacy, and sharing accessible information about disability, education, leadership, and inclusion.
The network also includes Friendly Ferns Publishing, a mission-driven publishing initiative created to help people—especially people with disabilities—tell their stories.
Stories That Help Children Recognize Their Strength
The emotional heart of the network is XTERMIGATOR Kids. XTERMIGATOR is an alligator detective who travels through Friendly Ferns, helping other characters understand unseen disabilities. The message is not that disability should be minimized or magically overcome. It is that disability is not inability—and that a child’s way of moving through the world can hold insight, creativity, and strength.
Faith and Inclusion Should Not Conflict
XTERMIGATOR Hellenic Kids extends this mission into faith and cultural education. A child with an invisible disability should be able to experience faith, love, and belonging without being asked to hide who they are.
A child may need a fidget toy during a service. Another may need headphones because the music is painfully loud. Someone else may need movement, visual supports, a quiet space, or a different way to participate. None of those needs makes the child less worthy of spiritual community. Families can continue the conversation through the XTERMIGATOR Hellenic Kids podcast.
From Being Seen to Helping Others See
Invisible, Not Invaluable captures the essential shift. Visibility is not merely about attention. It is about recognition: seeing the intelligence behind a different communication style, the effort behind an accommodation request, the courage behind disclosure, and the person behind the label.
“Different is beautiful. Together, we are unstoppable.”
Turn Around and Help Someone Else
I closed the conversation with a philosophy that connects every branch of this work: remember where you are going, remember where you have been, and turn around to help someone else move forward.
When inclusion becomes a daily practice, we listen before judging. We replace assumptions with questions. We make accommodations without shame. We tell stories that widen the world. And when we reach a place of greater understanding, we turn around and help someone else get there too.