There are far fewer things that I hold a burning passion for as much as I do for politics. It is what makes my heart race, my spirit soar and my brain stir. Though the dawning of its importance in my life was late and unexpected, I have held the flickering flame of justice, advocacy, leadership and forward progress in my heart ever since.

​

One of the earliest memories I have regarding an elected official was while I was in elementary school. A gentleman by the name of Nathan Vaughn was running for the Sullivan County Board of Education and was fighting to keep related arts in school. I remember going with my mom to an outdoor shelter at the elementary school I attended while he pitched his reasons for receiving the community's vote. Fast forward, he won his election. He later visited my class, and I remember walking alongside him in step and asking, "Will you ever run for president?!" I had no concept of the level of his position but knew that my mom was concerned about the related arts issue, voted for him, that he was now elected to the BOE and I was seeing the success of those efforts come together. It is worth noting those classes did not get taken away, and thus my youthful self felt that I had been looked out for.

​

Fast forward from that point in elementary school to being in college. I had become indifferent towards politics. The "War on Terror" dragged on, life as I knew it had largely involved us at war post-9/11 and elections largely bored me. I memory seems to recall the point of my life when President George W. Bush was running against John Kerry, and the next election to seem to stick was President Barack Obama running against former senator and governor Mitt Romney (I must've been checked out as a kid when President Barack Obama was running against Senator John McCain because I do not have very clear memory of that time period). But at the end of the day, remembering the 2004 and 2012 elections are simply a result of hearing it on the news on TV a lot and commentary from family or neighbors. To say I cared about politics then would be a lie.

​

I cast my first vote in the 2016 presidential election within the final hours of the polls being open—not having decided to have even voted until I was about to get off for the day from work and hearing patients and colleagues talk so passionately about it. I remember the resolve I felt in being able to press the button to submit my selections and thinking the weight of what I was doing was enormous.

​

After President Donald Trump was elected, the headlines were revolving doors of things he has said or decisions he had made. Being religiously active on Facebook during that time and the trending news blurb up in the corner of the homepage, I was aware of the political world only in terms of something being viral or shocking—as if to only be entertainment.

​

In 2018, I decided to leave healthcare and go back to school full time to earn my bachelor's degree after having obtained my associates and state license to practice as a physical therapist assistant in 2016. Making a complex story brief, I decided to study mass communications and attend a liberal arts college (something at the time I knew nothing about or what that meant). The school of choice was Emory & Henry College. One of my professors, Dr. Mark Finney, challenged me through his lectures to pay attention to headlines and what was happening on both the national and world stages. His relentless instruction using relevant examples (many of which that happened in less than 24–48 hours), kept causing me to have a reckoning with the importance of the news and media worlds, and to begin critically engaging in the political landscape.

​

While a student at E&H, the college's radio station general manager and the executive director for the performing arts center both requested assistance from a student to help produce the radio's first-ever coverage of a mid-term election. I was tasked with the job and assisted in overseeing the success of the live coverage on the station while professors, staff and other professionals provided commentary on the results as they were announced for the 2018 midterm election cycle. Then in February 2019, I helped the station again make history for itself as helping produce the first-ever State of the Union broadcast on the station. It was hosted by administrator Dirk Moore, featured President Trump's live address, the Democratic rebuttal and additional live commentary from within the station interspersed in night's program. It seemed apparent I was inching closer to political passion.

​

In the spring of 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic was unfolding across the world and the country with a botched response to the growing pandemic within our nation. By the summer of 2020, the Black Lives Matter and George Floyd protest were in full swing, the Democratic primaries were narrowing down candidates as former Vice President Joe Biden emerged as the DNC's nominee and the election in November of 2020 seemed that it would be one of the most stressful in my lifetime—coupled with a pandemic and national protests that had passions, frustrations and anxieties at an all-time high.

​

The 2020 presidential election saw me lock into politics and recognize the weight it has on every American's life—not to mention how international diplomacy affects lives of individuals across the world. I think the COVID-19 pandemic highlighted to me how interconnected our planet is and needs leaders looking to listen and fight for their people. This was my second presidential election to vote in, and casting my ballot was one done with a prayer in my heart and a chest that took in and released a deep breath with the action.

​

The election results felt uncertain and eventually contentious amongst pundits and elected officials. In due time, President Joe Biden became the president-elect and Vice President Kamala Harris as the vice president-elect. It was a defining moment in my head of seeing a close election take place during an unprecedented pandemic, seeing the first female and woman of color be chosen for the position of vice president and witnessing the loss of an incumbent president. This felt like an inflection point in history that I was getting to witness first-hand and was able to play a part in. That felt incredible.

​

One Wednesday, I was off of work and was at home in my apartment at the time. I decided to take a nap and enjoy my day off. I woke up late that afternoon, got on Instagram and saw something about a mob at the Capitol. In confusion and horror, I turned on the news and felt my heart break and soul troubled by the visuals of what was taking place on January 6, 2021. I watched the news for 13 hours straight. I just was beside myself. I was sad. I was angry. I was bewildered. Seeing the courage of Congressional staff save the ballots, Capitol police defend what I once heard Chris Wallace call "the cathedral of our democracy" and Congress later convening to certify the results while lawmakers gave floor speeches is a moment seared into my brain. What seeds of political passion were still dormant up until that moment suddenly were in full bloom. January 6 and the early hours of January 7 was a sobering moment of me realizing this stuff actually matters and it should not be taken lightly.

​

From that point on, politics have been what I have cared about most. That is coupled with my love for journalism and reporting, or the "Fourth Estate" as it is sometimes called. I made donation to fund President Biden and Vice President Harris' inauguration because I wanted to see the democracy persevere and hope be restored in the country. That was the first inauguration I had ever watched. Watching President Biden's first State of the Union address is locked into my brain when he said a paycheck offers a sense of dignity and that people need a little bit more breathing room. I was working a full-time job and doing mobile food-delivery on the side to try and make ends meet—still needing the occasional financial assistance from my parents during that time. I felt seen.

​

In November 2022, I came across a sudden announcement mid-week that President Biden and President Obama were campaigning that upcoming Saturday in Philadelphia to help get Senator John Fetterman and Governor Josh Shapiro elected. I immediately checked my schedule, saw I could pull off being out of town Saturday, and with the fierce and adamant support of my best friend telling me to do it, I frantically registered for the event, booked an Airbnb in Philly and was on my way in the early hours of the Saturday before Tuesday's 2022 midterm election. I was nervous to attend for some reason, largely because I had never attended a campaign rally and had never seen a president in person. Seeing two history-making presidents publicly speak and campaign in one room felt like a moment I may never have the opportunity to do again.

​

A carousel of speakers approached the podium and offered remarks while the crowd shuffled into their seats and came and went between the auditorium and the restroom. Then, after a long period of upbeat pop music playing and Secret Service continually checking the stage and walkways, the auditorium went dark, red and blue stage lights swirled around and Coldplay's "A Sky Full of Stars" began playing. The crowd was cheering at football stadium levels. The announcer began listing for the crowd to welcome Fetterman and Shapiro to the stage. In the same breath, she listed President Obama's name third with the crowd erupting to a deafening level and drowning out the announcement of President Biden's name being listed last. The stage was in a "V" formation. Shapiro and Fetterman walked up on the far end of the stage's corner where I was sitting, and Obama and Biden appeared from the walkway closest to the section where I was sitting. That was one of the most memorable moments of my life. The energy in the room spoke to my soul in a way that I had not anticipated. I realized this was what I wanted to do for my life's work. President Obama brought the room to a silence when making a remark about rights being taken away, elicited a collective "boo" from the crowd and forcefully met it with, "Don't boo! VOTE!" The room fell silent with the call to action versus emotional reaction. It was a moment that brings chills.

​

That weekend in Philly, I proceeded to visit Independence Hall and go by the Liberty Bell. My drive home had me drive adjacent to the Delaware River at night—causing me to reflect on the reality that President George Washington courageously crossed that very river with uncertainty of the nation that we have become to be today and all of the sacred institutions and offices that later followed that brave act. Further into my drive home, I crossed the northern section of the Potomac River and considered how the waters would be rushing by our nation's capital in the moonlit night. The core of the nation and its past suddenly felt within reach of holding the weight of what all of this great American experiment means and has meant to individuals throughout history to now.

​

Not even a couple weeks after, I was meeting my best friend up in Washington, D.C. for a teacher's conference she was attending. She invited me up thinking I would love D.C. I had never been, am in love with cities in general and my growing passion for politics seemed to scream at my friend that I needed to be up there and experience the city. As I crested over the hill in Alexandria, the Washington Monument, Jefferson Memorial, Lincoln Memorial and Capitol dome burst into view. I immediately exclaimed, "Oh my god," over the steering wheel. I could not believe it. This city and important structures I have studied ever since being in elementary school, have seen in movies and saw displayed on the news was suddenly right in front of me. I could not believe it. I crossed the Potomac River while jets flying flew overhead into Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport. I was stopped at a red light by the Washington Monument and just stared at it. It was there, standing tall outside of my car window. I had finally arrived in this sacred city. The trees were blocking the Capitol and the rest of the National Mall. As the light turned green and I proceeded forward, the trees cleared and the U.S. Capitol appeared boldly at the end of the Mall. I began crying while Ben E. King's "Stand By Me" played. I don't recall ever crying when seeing a landmark or structure before. Something inside me was stirring when my eyes took in the sight the Capitol, and I knew that my soul was telling me that something deeper was happening inside of me—as if cosmically getting a nod that my purpose was to be in that city, get politically involved and make a difference.

​

Upon going back a second time in the spring of 2023 for the Cherry Blossom Festival with my best friend, we got to tour the inside of the U.S. Capitol, walked through the spring gardens at the White House and enjoyed leisure time around the tidal basin. Walking up to the White House and staring at the South Portico was one of the best experiences of my life. Standing in the rotunda of the Capitol and walking its hallowed halls kept sparking the match of political service inside of me. I felt like I had found my true life's passion—even if it took a couple decades and a half to realize it.

​

Ever since I was a kid, adults in my life said with confidence that I was going to be a preacher in a church. For the greatest part of my childhood, teen life and early college life, I wanted to be a teacher. It is evident in my bones that I want to be in public service with the hopes of being in elected office one day. One of my good friends caused all of my dreams to come into focus when commenting with one similar narrative: preachers, teachers and politicians all work to help those they serve, educate and spread messages of hope and visions of a better tomorrow—laying out the blueprints of how to get to that promised land of the future and opportunity.

​

It is with great humility, passion, curiosity, patience and confidence that I hope to be used to serve Americans to make this world a better place for individuals from all walks of life. I commit to being a life-long learner who can always gather insight and grow. And with servant leadership, I look forward to stepping into that bright tomorrow. Having been raised with Republican principles and identifying today as a proud Democrat, I feel that I am uniquely positioned to serve people from all over the country, hold their stories and find common-ground solutions. The future is bright because you're in it, and I cannot wait to serve you.