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My Time in a Pink Truck

I had a lot of uncles. I referred to most of them normally, just "Uncle" so-and-so. But one of my uncles was "Uncle Brown with a pink truck." It's just what we called him.
No one can hide with a Pink Truck

Why did he have a pink truck? God only knows. This was a long time ago. It was before lots of trucks had leather seats. Or even cloth seats—I swear the pink truck had seats that were made of some kind of plastic. My legs would always stick to it. Uncle Brown with the pink truck was a very generous man, and he often let my sisters and me borrow the pink truck. We were teenagers, and it was nice to have that freedom.

The problem was, everybody around Willisville where I grew up (population 152) knew the pink truck. Wherever we went, we were seen. One time John Walker came to town. I'd been following his trailblazing civil rights work, but back then it was a bit of a taboo to openly support that sort of thing. For sure I'd be noticed if I drove to see him in the pink truck.

So I came up with a plan. My sister and I parked the truck six blocks away and walked the rest of the way to hear John Walker speak. We hid behind a hill and poked our heads out to watch him. We made plans, and God laughed. I don't know what did it first—the pink truck or us looking suspicious behind the hill. But we were found out. I got some looks, but it was well worth it to support something I believed in.

As I got older, I thought back on that moment whenever I thought others would judge me for standing up for something I believed in. My experience with the pink truck taught me I would be seen no matter what—I might as well be seen doing something I was proud of.

I think we all have some version of that. It may not be a pink truck, and it may not be hiding behind a hill. But we all have something we're afraid we'll get judged for. And it might hold us back from doing what we know is right. 

For me, I knew it was right to support John Walker. I think a lot of us know which are the right causes to support in this critical moment, even if it affects how others think of us.

Let me share this: I am better for people seeing what I was up to.

I'm glad I drove around in that eyeball-magnet pink truck. I'm proud I'm running for Congress, even if it means a lot more people are looking into what I'm doing. I treat it as an honor.

Washington—with all its dark money and lobbyists and self dealing—needs an attitude adjustment on this. Thank you for supporting my campaign to have DC politicians stop serving themselves and return to serving the people.

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