Walking in the Middle

On walking the middle, with eyes wide open

I’m a Democrat. Not far right, not far left. I’m right here in the middle, trying to love my country and still tell the truth about what I see.

I support leaders who I believe will bring order to the border — because I’ve watched what chaos looks like. I’m grateful for enforcement teams like ICE who regulate who comes in, and I’m not ashamed to say it. I also drink ICE, the one in the can, when I need to regulate myself and finish what I started. Both kinds of ICE have their place.

I’ve worked in government offices, I’ve been behind the scenes, and I’ve asked hard questions: Why do people take a job in one system and then struggle to find housing in another? Why do we accept pipelines that don’t make sense — from temp work to gas stations to nowhere stable? I’ve lived in Vallejo, I’ve been to Mexico, I’ve been through TSA more times than I can count. And yes, I’ve seen fear. I’ve felt it.

I’ve also seen mental health out of control — in stores, in jails, in places where people should be helped. I’ve sat in Douglas County and other places, never read my rights, just sitting, relying on water, prayer, and faith. It tested me psychologically and mentally. It scared me. But it didn’t break me.

I’m the kid who ate free lunches and loved government cheese. I’m also the adult who calls out when something feels wrong — to Chevron, to Safeway, to anyone who will listen. I believe in law and order, and I believe in compassion. Both.

I don’t have to pick between caring about my country and caring about people. I can love America, support strong borders, and still ask that we treat people humanely. I can be middle ground. I can be Democrat and still think for myself.

God is beautiful. Water is healing. And my story isn’t over. Where I start doesn’t dictate where I end up.