Time to Get Off the Bench

My story

I grew up in a home where democracy wasn’t something you watched from a distance — it was something you participated in. My parents were Democratic committee members in New York, ordinary people who believed deeply in fairness, representation, and the responsibility to show up for your community. They knocked on doors, registered voters, attended meetings, and taught me that when something is wrong, you don’t wait for someone else to fix it. You step forward.

My mother carried those values with her throughout her life. After our family moved to Florida, she volunteered for a Florida State Senator, bringing the same integrity and sense of duty she brought to everything she did. She was a working mom at a time when most mothers stayed home, and she showed me that women can lead, serve, and stand tall without waiting for permission. She taught me that fairness, dignity, honesty, and responsibility are not slogans — they are daily choices.

My father lived his values with courage. He believed fiercely in constitutional principles and in the idea that public institutions must protect everyone. The night before he died, he stood at a school board meeting to defend the separation of church and state — because he believed no child should feel excluded or lesser in a public school. His example taught me that integrity means showing up even when it’s uncomfortable, even when it’s inconvenient, and even when you stand alone.

Those values shaped my entire life. I’ve served as a teacher, a home health and hospice educator, a guardian ad litem, a crisis line volunteer, an Audubon Eagle Watch monitor, a library board member, and a board member for a foster care advocacy nonprofit. Service isn’t theoretical to me — it’s lived, personal, and constant.

And like so many Floridians, I’ve also lived through financial uncertainty. After my divorce from my first husband, I learned what it feels like to not know if you can pay the bills. I rented out my bedroom, made jewelry at night, leased my porch to a pest control company, and eventually managed the owner’s office just to stay afloat. That experience didn’t break me — it grounded me. It taught me resilience, resourcefulness, and exactly how hard people work just to hold on. It’s why affordability isn’t an abstract policy issue for me. It’s personal.

For a long time, I believed my role was to serve quietly. But one morning, my daughter — who usually sends me kitten photos — sent me something very different: an article showing that the Republican incumbent in my district was running unopposed. In that moment, I understood that staying quiet was no longer an option.

I’m running because our community deserves a representative who listens, who shows up, and who believes in protecting the people and institutions that protect us. I’m running because families deserve stability, dignity, and the freedom to make personal decisions without government interference. I’m running because our public schools, libraries, and local services are the backbone of our community — and they deserve to be strengthened, not undermined. I’m running because the rising cost of living is squeezing Floridians, and we need real solutions that put people first. And I’m running because Florida’s coastlines, wetlands, and natural habitats are irreplaceable — and they deserve science‑based protection.

I don’t claim to have every answer. But I know how to listen. I know how to learn. And I know how to act with integrity.

I’m stepping forward because our voices matter. Our communities matter. And our future matters. Staying quiet is no longer an option.