From Advocated For to Advocate: Eric Naindouba

Eric's mother carried more than pregnancy through her escape from violence in Africa. She carried hope for her unborn child's future. When Eric was born with cerebral palsy in a refugee camp, that future became uncertain. By the time the family was resettled in Clarkston, Georgia when Eric was in elementary school, the uncertainty had calcified into low expectations.

Clarkston has become known as "the most diverse square mile in America," a small city just outside Atlanta where refugees from over 40 countries have started new lives. Here, stores stock injera alongside collard greens, and dozens of languages echo through apartment complexes and the streets. It's a community built on resilience, on starting over, on the determination to create better futures.

But for Eric, Clarkston's schools replicated the same systems that limit disabled children everywhere. He was placed in special education with a distinction that would follow him: "cannot learn." Not "learns differently." Not "needs support." Cannot learn. The trajectory seemed set. Special education certificate instead of diploma, low expectations instead of challenge, decisions made for him instead of with him.

Until someone looked closer.

Derona King, a matchmaker at Citizen Advocacy of Atlanta & DeKalb, saw what the system had missed. Eric didn't just have the capacity to learn—he knew several languages. He was extremely intelligent. The "cannot learn" designation wasn't describing Eric. It was describing the system's failure to see him.

Derona reached out to Kathi Frankel, who had already met Eric and his family through her work at the hospital. Kathi said yes to being Eric's Citizen Advocate, and both their lives changed forever.

With Kathi as his advocate, Eric's education became a battlefield. Not because he couldn't learn, but because systems are designed to isolate rather than include. Each transition brought new fights: elementary to middle school, middle school to high school. The specifics changed but the pattern remained constant: Eric belonged in classrooms with his peers, not isolated spaces. He needed tools and accommodations, not low expectations. He deserved real education, not warehousing.

Kathi fought these battles year after year, meeting after meeting. And Eric kept proving what advocates knew all along: when given appropriate support and genuine challenge, he thrives.

Then came high school, and a new kind of barrier.

Two days before the start of ninth grade, Clarkston High School—Eric's community school, the school his neighbors attended, the school where he belonged—delivered devastating news: they could not support his needed accommodations. He would have to attend Stone Mountain High School instead.

Eric's years at Stone Mountain High had their ups and downs: the displacement from his community, the continued fights for appropriate support, the daily navigation of a system that still set low expectations. But something else was happening during those years. Eric was transforming from someone who received advocacy into someone who provides it.

As Eric grew older, Kathi recognized something important. She had been the right advocate for the battles of childhood and early adolescence. She fought for inclusion, demanding appropriate education, ensuring Eric's potential wasn't buried under low expectations. But Eric was becoming a man, with a man's dreams and desires along with questions about his future. He needed someone who could walk alongside him through this new territory.

Kathi approached Aaron Lichkay at Citizen Advocacy with a request that showed the depth of her commitment: find another advocate for Eric. Not because she was giving up, but because she understood Eric's needs were evolving. He needed someone younger, someone who could help him explore what it meant to build an adult life.

That's when Jeremiah entered the story.

If Kathi had been Eric's champion in the battle for education, Jeremiah has become his "hype man and manager," supporting Eric's interests while amplifying his voice and creating opportunities for his growing leadership. Together, they continued fighting for Eric's right to a full diploma instead of a special education certificate. His support team worked to keep him on track academically, ensuring the years of advocacy wouldn't end with a certificate that said "participated" instead of a diploma that said "achieved."

But Eric wasn't just fighting for himself anymore.

He began making connections with leadership at Stone Mountain High, building relationships with educators not as a student to be managed but as a young leader with ideas and vision.

He reached out to local elected officials, introducing himself, sharing his perspective, making clear that disabled voices belong in community conversations.

He organized educational events, creating spaces where fellow students could learn about disability rights, about refugee experiences, about the barriers that keep people on the margins.

And he started the American and African Advocacy Gathering (AAAG).

AAAG wasn't born after Eric's success. Instead, it was born in the middle of his fight. While still in high school, still battling for his own diploma, Eric was already working to ensure others wouldn't face those barriers alone. He drew on the African family-based cultural strategies he'd grown up with: the understanding that family takes care of its own, that everyone deserves voice and belonging, that community care isn't charity but reciprocity.

Eric has learned what advocacy looks like by experiencing it. Derona saw him. Kathi fought for him. Jeremiah amplifies his voice. Now Eric does the same for others, whether they be immigrants, refugees, or people with disabilities—all those whom systems underestimate, all those told what they cannot do, all those whose potential gets buried under labels.

With Jeremiah continuing in the role of hype man and manager, they work to ensure others receive the respect and opportunities that Eric's support network fought for him to have. The circle is expanding.

For Eric and those who know him best, graduation wasn't an ending. It was a commencement in the truest sense: the beginning of what comes next.

Eric's dreams stretch beyond his high school diploma. He envisions college classrooms at UGA or Georgia Tech where his voice contributes to discussions about community development and social justice. He sees a career where his lived experience as a refugee with a disability informs work making communities more inclusive and accessible. He imagines his own apartment, arranged to accommodate his needs but filled with the independence he has always craved.

And he continues building something bigger than his own success.

To learn more about the American and African Advocacy Gathering, connect with Eric onFacebookor visit thewebsite.