Today we’d like to introduce you to Jeans Wildemann.
Hi Jeans, can you start by introducing yourself? We’d love to learn more about how you got to where you are today?
My connection to Trailhead started long before I ever worked here. My grandparents adopted my aunt Lexi, who has cerebral palsy, and as they thought about her future, they wanted what any family wants: to know she would be safe, surrounded by people who cared about her, and part of a greater community. My grandmother, Barb Ziegler, became part of the group that founded Trailhead out of that desire.
For years, I got to witness Trailhead from the backside as a family member. I heard about the land, the design, the financing, the setbacks, and everything it took to turn this enormous idea into something real. I always thought the work was beautiful, but I never pictured myself leading it. Frankly, the nonprofit world terrified me. I didn’t have the confidence then to believe I could accomplish much in it.
I earned my degree in Communication with a minor in Leadership Studies and began my career at an accounting firm. It was a good experience and taught me a lot, but at my core I knew I wanted my work to matter to me and make a difference in my community. I just hadn’t found where I belonged.
Ultimately, it was my grandmother who brought me to Trailhead. My first year with the organization was anything but ordinary. About six months after I joined the team, changes in her health required her to step away, and I suddenly found myself stepping into leadership much sooner than I ever anticipated.
My grandmother was an incredible example for me. I like to say she accomplished more in the last ten years of her life than many people accomplish in an entire lifetime. She was a fierce advocate who dove headfirst into things that scared her. She never pretended to know everything; she was willing to learn, ask questions, and try anyway.
She may have been the reason I walked through the door, but Trailhead very quickly became my own mission. I found purpose in the work that I had been searching for throughout my early career. Today, I have the privilege of serving as Executive Director of an organization my grandmother helped begin. Continuing her work is incredibly meaningful to me, but Trailhead has also become deeply my own. It stole my heart and showed me the kind of work I was meant to participate in.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
Not even a little bit—and a significant part of the challenge has been internal.
Around the same time I was stepping into leadership at Trailhead, I was diagnosed with OCD. I was only beginning to understand the depth of it and how much it had shaped the way I moved through the world.
One of the hardest aspects of OCD for me is the need for certainty. My brain wants to know that I’ve made the right decision. It can overthink, question, and keep moving long after I would like it to stop. Then I found myself leading an organization where certainty simply doesn’t exist. We are working within a relatively new concept in housing and trying to create meaningful, lasting change. There isn’t a roadmap for everything we’re doing, and the kind of change we want to make takes time. I’ve had to become comfortable making the best decision I can with the information I have and continuing forward without knowing exactly how everything will turn out.
OCD isn’t something I’ve overcome. It’s something I actively work at every day, including as a leader. What has changed is my willingness to be honest about it. I work closely with my team, ask for help when I need it, and don’t feel compelled to paint a perfect picture of myself or pretend I have every answer.
In that way, I carry a lesson from my grandmother with me. She showed me that you don’t have to eliminate fear or know everything before you move forward. I’m learning to do the same. The mission has become greater than my fear.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
Trailhead Community is an inclusive housing community in Littleton where adults with and without intellectual and developmental disabilities live independently alongside one another. The idea is simple, although creating it certainly isn’t: people deserve meaningful choices about where they live, who they live around, and what community looks like for them.
As Executive Director, my work is incredibly varied. On any given day, I can be working on fundraising, organizational strategy, housing, partnerships, advocacy, finances, or the future of our model. A huge part of my job is also listening—to residents, families, staff, community partners, and people who have been doing this work far longer than I have.
What I’m most proud of is that something I grew up hearing about as an idea is now simply home to the people who live here. Residents are building friendships, navigating independence, advocating for what they want in their community, and shaping Trailhead into something none of us could have completely designed on paper. There are moments when I walk through the building and remember the years when my family was talking about land, plans, financing, and whether this could actually happen. Now people are living their lives here. That’s incredibly meaningful to me.
What sets our work apart is that we’re willing to keep learning. Opening the doors wasn’t the finish line. Our residents are teaching us what works, what doesn’t, and what true inclusion requires. My responsibility is to listen to that and help make the model stronger.
There are still far too few housing choices for adults with disabilities. I’m incredibly proud that Trailhead has proven another option is possible, and I’m excited by the responsibility we now have to take what we’re learning and create more opportunities for people to choose where and how they live.
What were you like growing up?
I was born and raised in Colorado in a very close, blended family. I was a pretty shy and independent kid and very focused on school. I cared a lot about getting good grades and doing things well, but I wasn’t necessarily someone who naturally saw myself as a leader.
What was there from a young age was a desire for my life to matter beyond just me. I didn’t know what that would look like or what career it would eventually lead me toward, but I always wanted to participate in something meaningful and contribute to the community around me. Growing up in Colorado was a big part of that. This state has always felt deeply like home, and being able to invest my life and work back into a place that has meant so much to me feels very full-circle.
I was also a kid who cared deeply and noticed when things didn’t feel fair. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned how much more complicated those questions are than I understood then. I wouldn’t pretend that younger me had some clear vision of the work I would eventually do. I didn’t. I just knew I wanted to care about what I did.
For a long time, I also struggled with confidence and learned to make myself smaller in certain spaces. So there is something meaningful about looking at where I am now. I didn’t become a completely different person. I’m still independent, still someone who cares deeply, and still figuring things out as I go. I’ve just finally found something greater than myself that is worth bringing all of those parts of me to.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.trailheadcommunity.org
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/trailheadcommunity
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/trailheadcommunity
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jeanswildemann
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@trailheadcommunity8617
