Today we’d like to introduce you to Denver Leigh Phillips.
Hi Denver Leigh, so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?
My story has never followed a straight line — and honestly, I’m grateful for that.
In the formal dining room of my grandparents’ farmhouse hung a large portrait of a handsome young man I knew as “Uncle Mike.” Michael was born in the mid-1950s and was diagnosed with what was then called the R-word. He lived at home and, for a brief period, spent time in an institution for children with disabilities. His stay was short, thanks to my grandmother’s unwavering advocacy for him to return home and attend school alongside my mother and her siblings — an almost unheard-of decision at the time, when acceptance and resources for students with disabilities were extremely limited. Tragically, Uncle Mike’s public education was cut short when he fell ill and was diagnosed with leukemia, passing away at the young age of 13.
As a child, I was fascinated by his portrait. He looked so “normal” — a word I now resist — but certainly far from the harsh labels of the era. I constantly asked my mother to tell me stories about him. She was three years younger than Mike and spent a lot of time helping him, often being called by teachers to assist in the classroom. Mike could not read, was partially verbal, and when tired, one leg would lag behind as he walked. Years later, when I was in my late teens, while exploring some od boxes, I discovered bundles of reports, paperwork, and photographs that chronicled his life. Piecing together these stories and documents opened my eyes in a way I hadn’t anticipated. I began to truly understand the profound challenges faced by individuals with disabilities, especially those without a voice or access to the resources they needed. It ignited in me a deep, personal passion to advocate for them — to stand up where systems and society often fell short, to work tirelessly to ensure every individual has the support, respect, and opportunities they deserve.
The second defining moment can be captured in a single picture: me at six years old, sitting under a tree surrounded by my favorite stuffed animals, teaching them to read. Reading came easily to me, but I knew early on that it didn’t come as easily to everyone — like Uncle Mike. In school, that realization sparked something in me — and, admittedly, got me into a fair amount of trouble. I’d try to “help” my classmates when they struggled, but my teacher didn’t appreciate my initiative. After being sent to the hallway one too many times, I started my own classroom right there under that tree. My mom snapped a picture of me mid-lesson, and looking back, I see that as the true beginning of my journey in special education.
Decades later, that same passion for helping others learn and succeed continues to drive me. I’ve had the privilege of serving as a special education teacher for students with emotional impairments, learning disabilities, and developmental disabilities; a Learning Disabilities Teacher Consultant and diagnostician; a case manager; a non-attorney advocate; and a school administrator. Each role deepened my understanding of how complex, challenging, and rewarding this field truly is, and strengthened my commitment to advocating for the disabled community as a whole.
Today, I am the owner and lead consultant for iTeach CAFE, LLC, while also serving as the Postsecondary Transition Coordinator and Special Education Teacher Consultant for the Manistee County ISD, helping students, families, and schools build bridges between education and adult life. It’s meaningful work that connects back to that little girl under the tree — still teaching, still believing that every learner deserves to be seen, supported, and empowered, and still advocating for my Uncle Mike.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
Not at all. Today, I can conceptualize my career path and put all my titles and ideologies into words — but in my 20s, I struggled to figure out how to turn my passion into a career. I started college majoring in healthcare administration, then switched to psychology (finishing only my associate of arts degree), and eventually found my way into the field of special education. Not knowing exactly what I wanted to be or how to become it was frustrating, but I never gave up. Some call it perseverance — I call it doing it out of pure spite.
In high school, my guidance counselor told me I was “not college material” and suggested I go to beauty school to become a hairdresser, because she noticed I had nice hair and apparently spent more time on that than on math. What she didn’t know was (a) I have a learning disability in math calculation — something that wouldn’t be diagnosed until graduate school — and (b) my “nice hair” took me literally five minutes each morning to style (plus, it was the early ’90s, so Aquanet was my best friend!).
Unfortunately, the discouragement didn’t stop there. My biological father echoed the same lack of belief, mocking my struggles with math, criticizing me whenever I felt uncertain about my career path, and belittling any academic or personal achievement. Navigating that alongside systemic and educational challenges made the path even harder. But my mom was always there to provide balance. She taught me to never take myself too seriously, to approach everything with intention and heart, and to embrace the willingness to learn from mistakes. Looking back, her steady guidance and encouragement kept my head above water more than I ever realized at the time. That combination of challenge and support fueled a stubborn determination to prove that I could — and would — succeed.
Later in my 20s, I was diagnosed with ADHD and generalized anxiety disorder (GAD). Initially, it felt like another barrier, but over time I learned to embrace these diagnoses as a sort of superpower rather than a limitation. They taught me creativity, hyper-focus when I need it, and a unique perspective that has shaped my teaching, advocacy, and leadership.
Beyond academics, I also faced deeply interpersonal struggles I didn’t fully understand at the time — challenges that affected my focus, attention, and confidence. Navigating those moments, often feeling like I didn’t quite fit the mold, made the journey messy, but it also shaped the teacher, advocate, mother, and consultant I am today. Those obstacles taught me resilience, empathy, and the importance of seeing potential in every student, even when the path isn’t clear.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
Throughout my career, I’ve specialized in working with students with emotional impairments, learning disabilities, and developmental disabilities. In my late 20s and early 30s, much of my focus was on the mandatory academic and professional steps required to build my career. But in 2009 and 2010, my role as a teacher and advocate for children with disabilities took a back seat to the most important title in the world — parent.
During those two years, I became the mother to three incredible little girls, each of whom arrived with big smiles, an eagerness for life, and their own IEP. The perspective, patience, and grace they have shared with me throughout their lives continue to fuel and shape my career, teaching me lessons that no university education ever could.
In 2014, I left the classroom to pursue the next chapters of my career — inspired to create meaningful change for students, families, and schools, while still carrying the lessons my daughters continue to teach me every day. When you ask what I’m most proud of, it’s them. Watching these little girls grow into young women — 3, 4, and 10 becoming 19, 20, and 26 — continues to inspire and challenge me in ways I could never have imagined.
I believe what sets me apart is my ability to combine deep knowledge of special education systems with empathy, creativity, and an unwavering focus on each student’s strengths and potential. I understand what it means to face barriers — both systemic and personal — and I bring that perspective to every conversation, plan, and strategy. My goal isn’t simply compliance or paperwork; it’s transformation: helping students, families, and schools see possibilities where they might not have seen them before.
Most recently, I am proud of the work I’ve done to create meaningful opportunities and support systems for students, families, and educators in our community. This includes collaborating on the Art for All community project with the Manistee Area Leadership cohort, developing and facilitating the EDGE to Excellence pre-employment skills program for youth receiving services through Michigan Rehabilitation Services (MRS), and creating the Get READY! Special Education Teacher Series to support new and pre-service special education teachers in Manistee County. Each initiative reflects my commitment to empowering individuals, building capacity, and fostering growth — whether it’s helping students achieve independence, guiding young adults toward meaningful employment, or equipping educators to make a lasting impact.
I also champion diversity and believe we need to look beyond the surface. Take me, for example: a tattoo-covered redhead with the back of her head shaved and a jar of moon water on her desk. Not exactly the image most people have of a professional educator, yet I’m also a nerd for leadership strategies and research on multisensory learning methodologies. I’m not a fan of stereotypes — while I understand their origins, I don’t believe they should ever limit growth, opportunity, or the potential we see in ourselves or others. And honestly, if a jar of moon water helps spark creativity and connection, I say let it sit proudly on the desk and take a sip!
So maybe we end on discussing what matters most to you and why?
What matters most to me is empowering others through education. I’ve dedicated my career to advocating for students with disabilities, but my work extends far beyond the classroom. True change happens when we equip the people around those students — educators, parents, community members, organization representatives, and business owners — with the understanding, tools, and confidence to support them effectively.
I’m a bit of a systems geek — I love using evidence-based data and resources to create sustainable growth and meaningful change. Whether I’m mentoring a pre-service teacher, coaching a veteran educator, guiding a parent through an IEP process, or collaborating with local organizations, my goal is always the same: to inspire awareness, build capacity, and create opportunities that last. Education, in this sense, is advocacy in action. By empowering the change-makers in a student’s world, we amplify our impact and ensure that every student has the resources, respect, and opportunities they deserve.
I am energized about connecting not only with my professional community, but with my local community as a whole. I love supporting local businesses and organizations, participating in community events and festivities, and serving as an ambassador for the Chamber of Commerce. I like to live out loud — to show up with passion, gratitude, and authenticity. At the end of the day, it’s about connection, equity, and possibility — helping others see what’s possible, even when the system or circumstance might suggest otherwise. That ripple effect — of knowledge, empathy, and action — is what drives me every single day.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://iteachcafe.net
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ManisteeISD
- Other: https://manistee.org
