Moving to D.C. was a complete culture shock at first. I felt like I had just finally found my way around the Montana Capitol Building, and now I was just trying to find a parking spot at the Capitol Building in Washington, D.C.
D.C. can feel like everything is urgent and nothing is rooted. But our work here isn’t just about policy—it’s about real people and real stories. I am constantly reminded of the stories from members who struggle with medical bills or putting food on the table. Those stories ground me every time I walk into a congressional office or sit through a hearing. I remind myself that I’m not just here as another voice in the crowd—I’m here because our people deserve to be heard in rooms where decisions are made about us, not with us.
When the pace of D.C. gets overwhelming, I think about the single parents raising kids on little income and less sleep, the young people standing up for land and language, the elders who’ve seen too many promises broken. That’s my center.
There are moments here when I feel the disconnect—the way Montana can feel like a world away from the Capitol dome. But I’ve learned to carry home with me. I stay grounded by remembering that we’re not here to fit into these systems—we’re here to shift them.
I don’t need to sound like everyone else in D.C. I just need to sound like me—and like the people I’m here for. ♦