I’m running for State Representative because I don’t believe a good life should require selling your conscience.

I grew up with love and opportunity—but I also watched the people around me sacrifice everything to provide it. After my parents split during the recession, we lost our home and moved wherever we could: basements, crowded trailers, spare rooms. Through it all, my family worked relentlessly so I could have chances they never did.

They hoped I’d take those chances and live an easy life.

Instead, I choose to stand up to the system that put us in those basements.

I entered politics young. I volunteered, knocked doors, and helped elect Democrats. I learned how the system works from the inside—how power is accumulated, how money shapes priorities, and how quickly good intentions are traded for comfort. I was offered a cushy office job before I could even vote.

But I refused to be bought.

Because the closer I got to “making it,” the more hollow it felt. It has been painful, to isolate myself, to say these things aloud, to stand up to the system and mentors that taught me.

However, that pain is nothing compared to the freedom I feel in this moment. I promised myself—and my family—that I would not become that kind of politician.

So I stepped back and lived in the real world. At job sites, on doorsteps, in checkout lines, what I learned was simple: people aren’t driven by hate. They’re driven by exhaustion, fear, hope, and a desire to be treated with dignity.

What divides us isn’t our neighbors. It’s a system that pits working people against each other while wealth and power concentrate at the top.

That’s why I’m running as an Independent. Neither party owns our pain or our future. My loyalty isn’t to Comcast—it’s to the people who build, clean, cook, and fix. My loyalty is to the dignity that the average worker has been denied.