A Call for Justice and Support

My name is Daniel. For years, I’ve worked as an outreach worker and medical assistant for a nonprofit serving people experiencing homelessness and mental health challenges. This is more than a job—it's my life's mission.

Now, I am the one who needs help. After disclosing my neurodivergent condition (ADD), and requesting basic workplace accommodations, my employer put me on mandatory unpaid leave. I was later replaced, but kept "on the books," so I can’t collect unemployment. My only option: disability, which brings stigma and fear for the future—especially for my 15-year-old son, who shares my diagnosis.

I'm fighting not just for myself, but for my son and every neurodivergent person who deserves respect, opportunity, and dignity at work.

Here’s my situation:

After returning from leave, my coworker and I (also neurodivergent) tried to advocate for ourselves and were put on leave again for speaking up.

With no income, no unemployment eligibility, and legal fees mounting, survival has become overwhelming—and the stress is affecting my family.

Your support is a lifeline: it will help with basic needs, fight for justice, and raise awareness for real inclusion in the workplace. I started at just $17 an hour here, passing up better pay and other career paths because I wanted to make a difference and believed I’d have support and the chance to grow. Losing my job now means losing the pay and the future I built my life around. Your gift helps me survive and rebuild while I pursue justice—for myself, my son, and others who deserve a truly fair chance.

A Note from the Heart

I am not attacking my former colleagues or the mission of my organization. Many people in this work are truly compassionate, and I’m proud of what we achieved together. My wish is not to point blame, but to reawaken the compassion and core values that should guide all of us—including empathy, respect, and dignity for those with invisible disabilities.

Thank you for any support, kindness, or help you can provide—to me, my son, and to others who are fighting to belong