About Me

I’m a broke millennial trying to survive in a country rigged against us. I’m running for Congress.

I’ve spent more years uninsured than covered. Medicaid, SNAP, and every scrap of paid leave have kept me afloat. I know the math of deciding which bill doesn’t get paid this month.

In 2015 I became the youngest intern in my White House class, and the price tag nearly drowned me. I maxed out credit cards just to reach D.C., crashed on a stranger’s couch for ten dollars a week, and watched classmates with famous last names unwind in $400-a-night hotels. My college pulled my full-ride scholarship because I left Texas for the summer; when I asked to make up the hours they shrugged and said, “Internships are for seniors. Just postpone.”

It was either UNT — or work at the White House for the first Black president.

So, I dropped out.

My days revolved around the White House comment line.

Veterans confessed they were skipping PTSD medications to buy groceries. Teachers, grading papers at midnight, begged to know why they had to crowdfund printer paper. Parents of diabetic kids pleaded for insulin that didn’t cost half a paycheck.

I sifted through stacks of letters, logged hundreds of calls, and poured thousands of emails into memos so senior staff—and the President—could hear what the country really sounded like. Then I’d watch Ivy-League interns glide into closed-door policy meetings, before counting quarters for the Metro ride home.

That summer showed me how insulated our “future leaders” can be...and exactly how desperate the rest of the country is to be heard.

It lit a fire I’ve carried ever since.

Since then, I’ve run field teams, built coalitions, and pushed climate-and-justice fights forward across the country. Right now, I’m an out-of-work organizer piecing together freelance gigs in a brutal market, narrating sci-fi on YouTube, and stress-watching Interstellar with my dogs when the world feels too heavy. Live music, board games, mini golf, disappearing into a good video game also help me stay grounded.

I’ve leaned on family when I needed to, and I know not everyone gets that lifeline.

I know this isn’t the "focus group approved" bio a consultant would approve.

But I’m not here to impress consultants or large donors. I’m laying out a life that looks a lot more like yours than a career politician. A story that hasn’t been buffed out until it’s unrecognizable.

So, yes, I’m running for Congress.

I am running because our government doesn’t need another polished politician or millionaire placeholder.

It needs someone who’s lived this struggle and is fired up enough to fight back.