When Jillian Pierre first walked into a Special Olympics event in 2012 with her son, Jaleel, she thought she was simply bringing him to swim. What she didn’t know was that she was stepping into a community that would reshape her life, her family, and her sense of purpose, and eventually lead her to volunteer in family engagement across the Caribbean. She arrived as a parent searching for opportunity and support. She stayed because she found belonging, meaning, and a movement she could not walk away from.
"My son came into Special Olympics in 2012, and from the time I came in, I saw a movement that I wanted to be a part of," Jillian says. At the time, Jaleel’s school was not connected to Special Olympics, and resources were hard to find. Like many parents of children with intellectual disabilities, Jillian felt isolated and unsure of where to turn. "Before Special Olympics, it was really, really hard. You always think you’re the only one doing this. You think you’re alone."
That feeling changed the moment she arrived. Jillian remembers being greeted by people she didn’t know—coaches, parents, volunteers—who simply welcomed her and Jaleel without hesitation. "People came up to me and said, 'Good morning. How are you? First time?' That feeling of being embraced by people who don’t even know you, it stays with you."
As she sat in the stands, she noticed the national director moving through the venue, greeting everyone with warmth and humility. "Everyone gravitated toward her," Jillian recalls. "I thought, 'My God, Special Olympics has everything.' And I said to myself, 'I want to be a part of this.'" That day, Jillian asked the coaches how she could help. She began volunteering almost immediately, and from that moment on, there was no turning back.
"Once you volunteer with Special Olympics once, it will not be your only time," Jillian says. "You come once, and you won’t stop."
Volunteering quickly became central to who she was. Jillian didn’t just show up; she listened, observed, and responded to the real needs of families. By 2018, she was nominated to serve as a family representative on the board, a role that allowed her to advocate for parents and caregivers in meaningful, practical ways. "I was seen as a family person," she says. "And that meant everything to me."
One of the first things she noticed as a volunteer was that athletes often spent long hours waiting at competitions, and they were hungry. Jillian decided to act. "I said, 'We’re going to feed 500 athletes at the National Games,'" she recalls, laughing. With parents making sandwiches, sponsors donating food and drinks, and volunteers stepping up, every athlete who walked into the stadium received breakfast. "Every athlete got something," Jillian says. "That was it for me. There was no turning back."
Her commitment as a volunteer deepened even further during the COVID-19 pandemic. Jillian helped organize weekly WhatsApp calls for families, creating a space where parents could talk, share concerns, and support one another. "It was much more than a sounding board," she says. "It was keeping us alive." When food insecurity became apparent, she and other volunteers coordinated hampers and personally delivered them to families in need. "We’re volunteers, but nothing is too hard for us to do," Jillian explains. "People trust us and that trust matters."
The impact of volunteering through Special Olympics has been just as powerful within Jillian’s own family. Her relationship with Jaleel, and with her extended family, has grown stronger. "Oh yes, my son, my whole family," she says. "We’re closer because of this." Through Special Olympics, Jaleel has grown in confidence, communication, and independence. He swims, runs marathons, kayaks, and advocates for himself. "He used to just do whatever you told him," Jillian says. "Now he asks questions. He speaks up. That comes from being surrounded by athletes and coaches who believe in him."
Volunteering has also brought Jillian’s extended family into the movement. When Jaleel traveled for regional games, relatives flew in from abroad to support him and volunteer alongside him. "I was able to sit back and be comfortable," she says. "That bond we have now, it’s unbreakable."
Despite the countless hours she dedicates, Jillian remains clear about one thing: she is a volunteer. There are no set schedules and no paychecks, only responsibility and trust. "You can’t put a time frame on this," she says. "People call at any hour. People trust you. And once they trust you, you can’t turn your back."
So why does she keep going? Jillian doesn’t hesitate. "When you see an athlete get their first medal, that look on their face, it never changes, whether it’s their first medal or their 800th," she says. "How do you not continue after that?"
Today, Jillian volunteers in family engagement across the Caribbean, helping to connect families across different cultures, languages, and islands under a shared belief in inclusion. "Without a healthy family, you don’t have a healthy athlete," she says. "Families are the backbone." She describes Caribbean families as fiercely loyal and deeply committed. "We are building bridges of inclusion," Jillian says. "And we are not going to stop building those bridges."
Looking back, Jillian knows exactly where it all began, and who made it possible. "If not for my son, I would not have been in Special Olympics," she says. "I would not have realized how big this dream could be."
What started as a single act of volunteering became a lifelong calling. For Jillian Pierre, Special Olympics didn’t just change everything, it proved that once you show up, once you give, once you belong, you don’t leave.
