Denise Phua juggles the roles of autism advocate, accidental politician and mother of two with courage and gusto, writes Aaron De Silva.

As co-founder of Pathlight School, the first special school in Singapore that offers the mainstream curriculum to children with autism, Denise Chua works tirelessly to ensure that the special-needs youth under her supervision are well cared for. She serves daily as a volunteer supervising not only Pathlight, but also Eden School, another autism-focused school that offers a vocational curriculum to its students. As a Member of Parliament serving the Kampong

Glam constituency, she does her utmost to reach out to the underprivileged and the downtrodden in the community, frequently airing their plight in Parliament.

By all accounts, Phua ought to be — and is — an inspiration to others. But right from the start, she lets you know how uncomfortable she is with that label. "I find that everyone has a different calling. The key is to have the courage to answer that calling," she says emphatically. Courage is something the 52-year-old has in spades. In 1999, when her three-year-old son Jun-Yi was diagnosed with autism, her world was turned upside down.

"I was plunged into a world I never knew very much about — the world of psychologists, therapists, special-needs schools and teachers," says Phua, who was human resource director of the Wuthelam Group at the time. The discovery marked a turning point in her life. After research and consultation with professionals, she began mapping out a course of action to help not only Jun-Yi, but also other children afflicted with the same condition.

She founded the charity WeCAN, the largest autism training provider in Asia and incorporated it into the charity, Autism Resource Centre, of which she has been elected president since 2004. She withdrew from the corporate sector, forsaking a six-figure annual salary, to become a full-time special-needs volunteer. "I strongly feel those of us who are blessed, either with education or resources, should bless others as well."

In 2004, she set up Pathlight with a little over S$600,000 (RM1.51 million) pooled from the Ministry of Education and various private donors. In an unprecedented move, it offered a full primary and secondary mainstream curriculum, and students from low-income families — which made up 40% of its enrolment — could apply for the S$500 monthly fees to be subsidised. Over the next eight years, her constant lobbying for increased help from the government and other supporters would pay off: In April 2010, Pathlight moved into a S$34 million facility in Ang Mo Kio Avenue 10, where this interview took place.

Today, the school has an enrolment of 711. Its success is owed in no small part to Phua's past experience working with Wuthelam and Hewlett-Packard, and running a leadership development and effectiveness centre. Pathlight is run with a structured framework of standard operating procedures and key performance indicators. "Strategic planning, Malcolm Baldridge quality awards and schemes, engagement initiatives... I apply them where they're needed."

In person, Phua radiates a warm, motherly vibe. At the same time, she's carved out a reputation as an outspoken, tenacious backbencher who constantly tries to help the disadvantaged. In a recent Parliamentary sitting, for instance, she lobbied Singapore Deputy Prime Minister and Minister for Manpower Tharman Shanmugaratnam to set up a scheme to widen the job options of elderly Singaporeans.

"Those of us who are in a position to speak should exercise that influence to speak on behalf of those who may not have a voice," she maintains. Although politics would seem the logical extension of any humanitarian crusade, Phua assumed the role rather reluctantly in 2006 as she was worried it would curb her efforts in special-needs advocacy.

"But the people I consulted with advised me to use politics as a bigger platform to raise issues for the causes that I believed in. As it turned out, during my understudy period, the PAP decided to put me in a fairly poor and elderly district. I felt that I could make a difference. The plate is bigger, but the scope is still about the disadvantaged. I'm very motivated by that."

Phua is also encouraged by the fact that her staff and volunteers are just as passionate about her causes as she is. "We have a very low staff turnover because people believe in what we do. Some of them are private practitioners — psychologists, speech pathologists, consultants. One of them, an Australian consultant, closed her clinic to come and join me."

On the hot-button topic of Singapore's widening income gap, Phua has this to say: "If Singapore is meant to be a home, and not just an economic machine, then we need to include and look after those who might not be able, or who have in the past but are no longer able, to contribute economically. There's a place for all of them. As a country, we should make a statement about how we treat people who are not as able. Do we put them as an addendum in the chapter of our economic progress? Or do we include them as part of the family?"

Asked if she juggles her various roles effectively, Phua replies with candour: "I don't. This superwoman thing is a myth. Making sure I know what my priorities are, identifying my key roles and the outcomes I want for those roles — there's a science to it, and knowing that science helps me quite a bit. But I'm only human. And I find that trying to balance these roles is difficult because of the heavy demands."

Phua regrets not spending enough time with her son, who is now 16 and preparing for his N-Level exams next year. "I don't know how fully independent he'll be in future, but I've learnt how not to live in fear. Even if he can't be fully independent, there's enough of a network in Singapore to support him and many others like him." A network she created, no doubt.

Asked who she admires, she names Mahatma Gandhi, Mother Teresa and Jesus Christ, all of whom "got down to the ground". Phua places great emphasis on focus and humility. "It was Einstein who said that the biggest problem of man is to mistake the means for the end. If I were to assume that media interviews, gala dinners and rubbing shoulders with important people were the end rather than the means, it would be a big mistake. The end is a higher purpose to ensure as many as possible do not get left behind."

A trailblazer as defined by Braun ­Büffel: A person who sets out with drive and a vision, accomplishing his/her objective with perseverance and/or passion, hence making an impact on society politically, socially or economically, and leaving a trail for others to be inspired and motivated by.

Aaron De Silva enjoys experiencing the world, and relishes writing about it afterwards. This story appeared in The Edge Singapore on July 16, 2012.