How Jeremy Filko Thrives with a Non-Visible Disability

As a chief scientist at Booz Allen, Jeremy Filko makes a living with his mind, working closely with clients to provide business analytics, create new approaches and methodologies, and apply emerging technologies to influence the future.

But 5 years ago, while playing softball, Jeremy sustained a traumatic brain injury (TBI) that changed his life. After a line drive struck and disintegrated his left eye socket, this former Marine officer, who spent years articulating the intricacies of highly technical deliverables, found himself needing to relearn basic daily tasks, like speaking and walking. He also experienced memory loss and other debilitating symptoms. 

At first, Jeremy tried to tackle the greatest challenge of his career head on and by himself. When he returned to work after his accident, he didn’t tell his colleagues about many of his TBI symptoms, like the crushing migraines he frequently experienced. These symptoms soon became overwhelming, and he was unable to work for an extended period.

When Jeremy came back to work after his second recovery, he decided to change tack; telling those around him about his disability. He’s been back for over 3 years now, leading data science and machine learning efforts for clients at the Office of the Director of National Intelligence. Driven by his experiences, Jeremy has become an advocate for inclusive professional environments where people with ​non-visible disabilities can thrive. 

We spoke to Jeremy to learn more about his TBI and the impact it’s had on his career. 

How has Booz Allen supported you since your injury?

Instead of worrying about what my TBI took away from me, my teammates and leaders focus on making the most of what I can do and what I can do even better since getting injured. When I tell colleagues I’m symptomatic and unsure if I will remember our discussions, they say things like, “Let’s get to the whiteboard, you talk fast and I’ll write fast,” and “It’s on me to remember what’s important for both of us.” Words and actions like these make all the difference.

How does your TBI affect your work?

Prior to my injury, when elegant approaches failed me, I could always fall back on brute force to solve problems. Regardless of how much time and effort it took, I would eventually get the job done. After my injury, the brute force approach still worked, but I frequently paid the price in the form of debilitating migraines. I went through this cycle more times than I care to admit and realized a change was needed. So, I decided to open up and tell my clients and teammates about my symptoms. While it’s not always easy to admit I have a disability, through transparency I've found that people are understanding and more than willing to work with me to find those elegant solutions.

What do you want people to know about TBIs?

One misconception about TBIs is they leave people less capable. That's simply not true. What is true is people with TBIs may need to make their contributions differently than before. When I returned to work, I found the writing style of our standard proposals to be exceedingly difficult. My colleagues stepped up and took over many of those responsibilities, freeing time for me to focus on client delivery and people development. Booz Allen takes a similar approach by consciously looking for what people do best and focusing those talents for our clients’ missions.

What advice do you have for people with disabilities who are seeking a career in technology?

Surround yourself with supportive and understanding people. When possible, use technology to help you and learn to forgive yourself when your efforts fall short. Most importantly, don’t forget to find humor in related situations. Post-injury, I struggle with calendars and appointments. My team recently needed to build a complex calendar of interconnected appointments and deliveries. While we were organizing the work, a close friend and colleague said, “Hey, how about Jeremy builds out the calendar?” I replied, “Results may vary.” I don’t think we’ve all laughed that hard in years.