12/05/2025
It’s sometime between 3:36 AM and 5:00 AM where I am right now, and I’ve found myself awake—reflecting on my why. The real “why” behind my career in public service, my goals, and the pace at which I pursue them.
My “why” has always been shaped by grief, and by the quiet promise I made to make my mother proud. When I was a little boy, my biological mother and I were in a car accident. She passed away, and I survived—suddenly the son of an undocumented father and a mother I would never truly know. Those early years felt heavy, like a storm building before anything beautiful could grow.
Childhood brought its own droughts—grieving someone I never met, trying to understand choices I didn’t have the words for. But around age 11, I started hearing stories about who my mother was. She was a business owner, a neighbor, an immigrant building a better life. She supported her community with whatever she had—sometimes even her last $5. She worked hard for her family, and just as hard to lift up the people around her.
Those stories rooted themselves deep within me.
As an adult, I now understand that this is why I chose public service. I want to live a life that mirrors her spirit—cultivating strong communities, showing up for people, serving with intention, and honoring her memory through my work.
Today, on her birthday, I’m reminded of her sacrifices and the purpose behind my drive. She never got to see the life I’m building, but everything I do is an attempt to carry forward the legacy of a woman I knew only through stories, but who continues to shape me every day
