I wasn’t born into power, privilege, or political connections.
I was born into poverty.
As a child, I experienced homelessness. There were times when my family couldn’t afford basic necessities — even water. I remember taking showers outside in the summer rain because we couldn’t pay the utilities. Those experiences don’t leave you. They shape how you see the world. They shape what you fight for.
I grew up knowing that hard work wasn’t optional — it was survival.
For decades, I worked blue-collar jobs. I installed cable and satellite systems. I climbed cell towers. I worked 14-hour days in the scorching Texas sun. I broke my body doing the kind of work that keeps infrastructure running but rarely makes headlines. I understand the dignity of labor because I’ve lived it.
Today, I am an ambulatory wheelchair user living with chronic illnesses. My health challenges are part of my story — not something I hide. They are a daily reminder of how fragile our systems can be for people who don’t have wealth or perfect health as a safety net. I know firsthand what it feels like to navigate healthcare barriers, to worry about affordability, and to rely on community support.
My wife works with the Refugee Women’s Alliance, helping women and families build new lives here in Washington. Through her work, I see the resilience of people who have overcome unimaginable obstacles — and the gaps in our systems that still need fixing. Our community is strong, diverse, and full of potential, but too many families are still struggling to find stable housing, accessible transportation, and opportunity.
Together we have raised three wonderful children, and have been married for almost twenty years.
For decades, politics has been dominated by lawyers and business executives who often see government as a stepping stone or an investment. I believe it should be a responsibility — a trust placed in someone who understands what ordinary people face every day.
My story isn’t extraordinary because it’s glamorous.
It’s extraordinary because it’s shared by so many Americans.
It’s the story of working long hours.
Of stretching every dollar.
Of falling down and getting back up.
Of building a life through grit and determination.
That is why I’m running.
I believe housing is a human right.
I believe healthcare — including dental and mental health — must be accessible.
I believe our streets and transit should serve people, not just profit.
I believe every family should have access to Washington’s natural beauty, not just those who can afford private transportation.
And I believe government should answer to the people who struggle, not the corporations that lobby.
This is my American tale — not one of privilege, but of perseverance.
And I’m ready to bring that experience to public service.
