That day, everyone begged the question: How did this happen?

As further investigations unfolded, a startling answer emerged: groupthink. A tiny rubber O-ring failed due to unseasonably cold weather and, despite prior knowledge of possible malfunction, no one questioned it. Groupthink, the pressure to conform and avoid rocking the boat, led to disaster. It’s the same thing we see in families, workplaces and — no surprise — in our government. Here in Utah, groupthink is alive and well in our state Legislature.

Our Legislature is made up of a small club of 104 elected officials: 75 two-year-term House representatives and 29 four-year-term senators. It is currently 75% men and an 81% Republican supermajority. By comparison, the residents of Utah are about 50/50 men and women, and about 53% registered Republicans. Our Legislature is a homogenous group making policy for many Utahns whose perspectives are not represented. This imbalance has led to many elected leaders held unchecked, unaccountable and ignoring the wishes of their constituents. In a recent survey of the top concerns for Utah voters, they resoundingly said they didn’t feel like their representatives listened to them.

As the mother to a 19-year-old son with autism, I have a unique experience with groupthink. My son has an amazing mind and an unfiltered mouth, to the point of often unintended comedic commentary that would make your mama blush. He will never subscribe to the downfalls of groupthink because he lacks the fear of worrying about what others think of him. I have always loved this trait of his, even if it means he openly tells strangers about things better reserved for close friends.

I’ve also seen how the groupthink of societal norms is unfairly placed on neurodiverse people, often leading to bullying, exclusion and worse. I once heard a group of parents complain about the “stupidity of participation awards” and I pointed out that those were the only types of awards my son had ever received, and they were as hard-earned as any other award out there.

Being his mom has brought me some of my greatest joys while simultaneously causing me some of my worst anxiety. What if he gets overstimulated and has an outburst in public? What if someone misinterprets his behavior and tries to hurt him? The same worries I had every day as I dropped him off at school and said a silent prayer that he would make it unscathed through the day are the same worries I have now that he’s out in “the real world” — a world full of groupthink, conformity, judginess and expectations. A world that wasn’t made for people like my son.

I tired of trying to make my son fit in; I wanted to make the world fit him. In 2018, I started an annual event called Awesome Autistic Ogden. All I wanted to do was make our little corner of the world a little kinder, more accepting and inclusive. This ignited a flame in me that led to me serving on the (formerly named) Ogden Diversity Commission, then running for a seat on the Ogden school board (and winning with nearly 65% of the vote) and now running to disrupt the supermajority of the Utah State Senate.

Here’s the thing: I wasn’t supposed to be here. I am a survivor of childhood abuse; I was a teenage birth mom; later, I was a single mom and navigated my son’s autism diagnosis while also putting myself through college at Weber State University. I spent nearly two decades waiting tables and bartending, barely getting by. I was on food stamps and government assistance; I would pick up extra shifts just to earn enough money to cover rent or day care expenses. I struggled with alcohol use until resolving on Aug. 8, 2021, that I was strong enough to quit. I’m proud to have more than three years of sobriety behind me and a lifetime ahead.

My story is not unique, but in the Utah Legislature, it would be. There’s probably a part of my story that you see reflected in yours, or someone you love. They say I’m not supposed to be a senator, that a Democratic candidate can’t win in this district. I think voters are ready to elect someone who has the courage to ask the questions, to speak up and be heard, and — most importantly — someone who will listen. It’s time to challenge the groupthink, to disrupt the supermajority, and to ensure no opportunity is out of reach and no voice is left unheard.

Stacy Bernal is an author, TEDx speaker, mom of three and “Lola” to four. She is a proud WSU alumni and has served on numerous boards at WSU, OWTC and Utah Women Run in addition to being elected to the Ogden school board. She looks forward to the opportunity to represent Utah families at the state Legislature.