Yesterday morning, Tabby passed away peacefully in her sleep.

I have written those words a few times now. I still don’t think my mind completely understands them.

For more than a year, since suffering multiple strokes, Tabby had been fighting a battle that tested her in ways no one should ever have to experience. Through hospitals, facilities, setbacks, small victories, fear, frustration, and hope, she kept fighting.

She was a fierce warrior through all of it.

But I don’t want the last year of Tabby’s life to become the story of her life.

Because she was so much more than what happened to her.

For 20 years, she was my wife.

We built a life together. We raised two wonderful children, Bella and Skyler. We faced battles together that I never could have imagined when we started this journey.

Through all of it, Tabby was the rock of our family.

When Bella was going through the hardest days of her own medical journey, Tabby was there questioning doctors, challenging decisions, demanding answers, and making sure our daughter received the best care possible.

That was Tabby.

When something needed done, she pushed until it got done.

Sometimes that meant pushing doctors.

Sometimes it meant pushing a system.

And sometimes it meant pushing me.

She loved her children fiercely, and she taught them something that will stay with them for the rest of their lives: how to advocate for themselves.

She also gave them a love of music and musicals, memories and pieces of her that I know will continue showing up throughout their lives.

But her love for children didn’t stop with Bella and Skyler.

Years ago, she served on the Head Start Policy Council. She volunteered through Second Harvest and its local outreach efforts because children shouldn’t have to wonder where their next meal is coming from. She spent time as a Girl Scout leader.

And then there were the families she helped navigate education.

IEPs. Special education. Gifted education. Meetings. Questions. Rights. Parents who simply didn’t know where to turn.

The last count I had was more than a dozen children and families she had directly helped advocate for.

But I know that number doesn’t come close.

There were countless messages she answered, phone calls she took and quick conversations where someone needed a little guidance, encouragement, or simply someone willing to listen.

When you count those moments, I wouldn’t be surprised if Tabby’s impact reached close to a hundred children and families.

She didn’t do it for recognition.

Most people probably never knew she was doing it.

She did it because a child needed somebody in their corner.

That was who she was.

And that same determination carried her through this last year.

There were moments when things looked impossible. There were setbacks that broke our hearts. There were days when progress was measured in the smallest possible ways.

But she kept fighting.

And we kept fighting beside her.

For 20 years of marriage, we were partners.

Not perfect. No marriage is.

We argued. We disagreed. We pushed each other’s buttons. We faced things that tested us individually and together.

But when life came at our family, we stood beside each other.

We fought together.

Yesterday morning, her fight ended peacefully in her sleep.

Mine now becomes learning how to move forward without my partner beside me.

I don’t know exactly what that looks like yet.

Right now, Bella, Skyler and I are simply trying to process losing the woman who was the center of so much of our lives.

We will have a small family funeral, and we are planning a Celebration of Life for a later date. I don’t have those details yet. When we do, I will share them.

There will be time for all of that.

Today, I just want people to remember Tabby.

Remember the wife.

Remember the mom who would fight anybody or anything for her children.

Remember the Girl Scout leader.

Remember the volunteer helping make sure children had food.

Remember the parent advocate sitting beside another family when the education system felt impossible to understand.

Remember the woman who could pick up a phone, answer a message, and make somebody feel a little less alone.

Remember the woman who fought for more than a year after multiple strokes and kept showing us what determination looked like.

Most of all, I want Bella and Skyler to always remember this:

Your mom loved you fiercely.

She fought for you.

She believed in you.

And she spent years teaching you how to find your own voices so that someday, when she couldn’t be there to speak for you, you would know how to speak for yourselves.

That may be one of the greatest gifts a mother can leave her children.

Tabby was my wife, my partner, the mother of our children, and the rock of our family.

Twenty years wasn’t nearly enough.

But I am incredibly grateful that they were our twenty years.

Rest peacefully, Tabby.

You’ve fought enough.

We love you.

Welcome back to Harrisburg & Headlines, a series where I share the news stories, legislative proposals, education updates, and policy discussions that caught my attention throughout the week.

Every day, dozens of headlines compete for our attention. Some dominate social media, while others quietly move through Harrisburg or local communities without much notice. Many of those lesser-known stories can have a real impact on Pennsylvania students, parents, taxpayers, educators, and families.

My goal isn’t to tell you what to think.

It’s to help you stay informed.

Each edition features a collection of stories that stood out to me, along with a brief summary explaining why they matter and a direct link to the original reporting or legislative memo. I encourage you to read the source material yourself, ask questions, and form your own opinions.

📰 This Week’s Headlines

Rural Schools Continue to Face Technology Challenges

A new report highlights how many rural Pennsylvania school districts continue to struggle with aging technology, limited broadband access, and funding challenges. As more learning, testing, homework, and communication move online, unequal access to technology remains a concern for students and educators alike.

Read the full story:
https://whyy.org/articles/pennsylvania-rural-school-technology-funding-students/

No Criminal Charges Following Quakertown Protest

The Bucks County District Attorney announced that no criminal charges will be filed following the highly publicized Quakertown student protest. While the criminal investigation has concluded, the case continues to raise broader questions about student protests, school policies, and how districts respond to controversial events.

Read the full story:
https://6abc.com/post/no-charges-related-quakertown-protest-district-attorney-announces/19620842/

Trial Begins in Alleged Abuse of Autistic Students

The criminal trial involving former Greensburg Salem teacher aides accused of abusing autistic students is now underway. The outcome of this case will be closely watched by parents, educators, and disability advocates across Pennsylvania because it touches on student safety, accountability, and the care of some of our most vulnerable learners.

Read the full story:
https://triblive.com/local/westmoreland/trial-set-to-begin-for-greensburg-salem-teacher-aides-accused-of-abusing-autistic-students/

Harrisburg

One of my favorite things to follow isn’t just the bills that get introduced—it’s the co-sponsorship memos.

These memos are essentially an early preview of legislation. They allow lawmakers to gather support before a bill is formally introduced, giving citizens an opportunity to see what’s being discussed before committee votes and floor action begin.

Senate Memo #49041 — Modernizing Pennsylvania’s Civics Education

Sen. Lynda Schlegel Culver is proposing a statewide update to Pennsylvania’s civics education requirements. The proposal would replace locally developed civics exams with a single statewide assessment for students in grades 9–12 while also updating the Commonwealth’s civics standards for the first time in more than two decades.

The memo also proposes recognizing schools and educators who excel at teaching civics, with the goal of encouraging stronger civic knowledge and engagement among Pennsylvania students.

Read the memo:
https://www.palegis.us/senate/co-sponsorship/memo?memoID=49041

Senate Memo #48931 — Limiting Screen Time for K–2 Students

Sen. Lisa Boscola is proposing legislation to place reasonable limits on classroom screen time for Pennsylvania’s youngest public school students. The proposal would prohibit kindergarten through second-grade students from taking school-issued devices home and discourage schools from relying on daily one-to-one device use as a substitute for hands-on instruction, while still allowing technology to be used for computer science and other appropriate educational activities.

The memo points to declining English Language Arts (ELA) proficiency scores, along with research suggesting that handwriting, direct instruction, and face-to-face learning play an important role in early childhood development. It also cites studies linking excessive or poorly supervised screen time to weaker language, cognitive, and fine motor development. The proposal is intended to restore a healthier balance between technology and traditional classroom learning while continuing to use digital tools where they genuinely enhance education.

Read the memo:
https://www.palegis.us/senate/co-sponsorship/memo?memoID=48931

House Memo #48895 — Restarting PlanCon 2.0

Rep. Jacklyn Rusnock proposes restarting Pennsylvania’s school construction reimbursement program through what is being called PlanCon 2.0. The proposal is designed to help districts renovate aging buildings, improve school facilities, and complete construction projects while reducing pressure on local property taxpayers.

Pennsylvania’s original PlanCon program has largely been dormant since 2016, leaving many districts struggling to fund major capital improvements on their own.

Read the memo:
https://www.palegis.us/house/co-sponsorship/memo?memoID=48895

House Memo #48885 — Holding Harrisburg Accountable

Rep. Natalie Mihalek is proposing legislation aimed at increasing accountability for Pennsylvania’s chronic pattern of missing the June 30 budget deadline. Late state budgets create uncertainty for schools, local governments, nonprofit organizations, and families waiting to see how state funding decisions will affect them.

The proposal is intended to encourage lawmakers to complete the budget process on time rather than allowing negotiations to drag on for weeks or even months.

Read the memo:
https://www.palegis.us/house/co-sponsorship/memo?memoID=48885

House Memo #48877 — Expanding Access to Nonprofit Security Grants

This proposal would eliminate the matching-fund requirement for certain nonprofit security grants, making the program more accessible to smaller organizations with limited financial resources. Churches, synagogues, community organizations, and nonprofits could find it easier to apply for funding to improve security measures without first raising local matching dollars.

The proposal comes as many nonprofit organizations continue to evaluate security needs in response to recent acts of violence and attempted attacks across the country.

Read the memo:
https://www.palegis.us/house/co-sponsorship/memo?memoID=48877

House Memo #49056

Modernizing the Definition of “Professional Employe”

This proposal would update Pennsylvania’s Public School Code by expanding the definition of a “professional employe,” a term that has remained largely unchanged since 1971. The sponsors argue that today’s schools rely on many licensed and certified professionals who provide essential services to students but are not currently guaranteed the same statutory rights and protections as other professional employees.

If enacted, the legislation would extend “professional employe” status to additional school-based professionals such as school social workers, occupational therapists, physical therapists, behavior analysts, orientation and mobility specialists, speech-language pathologists, school psychologists, instructional technology specialists, and licensed professional counselors, while specifically excluding administrative personnel. Supporters say the change would better reflect the modern school workforce, help schools recruit and retain qualified professionals, and provide consistent legal protections such as transfer rights, sabbatical eligibility, and other benefits already extended voluntarily by many districts.

Read the memo:
https://www.palegis.us/house/co-sponsorship/memo?memoID=49056

House Memo #48854 — Supporting Students Experiencing Homelessness

Representatives Ismail Smith-Wade-El, Gina Curry, and Lindsay Powell are proposing the creation of the Homeless Education AWARDS (Assisting with Academic Resources for Displaced Students) grant program. The legislation would provide multi-year grants to schools and community organizations to help students experiencing homelessness receive the academic support, stability, and resources they need to remain engaged in school and improve their chances of graduating.

According to the Pennsylvania Department of Education, more than 50,000 Pennsylvania students experienced homelessness during the 2023–24 school year. The sponsors argue that homelessness creates significant barriers to attendance, academic success, and graduation, and note that students who do not finish high school are more likely to face unemployment, lower lifetime earnings, and homelessness as adults. The proposal seeks to invest in early intervention and support services to help break that cycle.

Read the memo:
https://www.palegis.us/house/co-sponsorship/memo?memoID=48854

This morning, I read a news story about school districts across Pennsylvania holding back-to-school celebrations to help students get ready for a new year.

I’ll share the article at the end because I think it’s worth reading.

But it got me thinking about something a little different.

Not school supplies.

Not backpacks.

Not lunch boxes.

Routines.

If you’re anything like me, summer has a way of changing the schedule.

Bedtimes get a little later.

Sleeping in becomes normal.

Breakfast might happen whenever someone wanders into the kitchen.

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying summer. In fact, I think we should.

But August is also when we start looking ahead.

I remember trying to make that transition with my own kids. We didn’t wait until the night before school started.

A couple of weeks before the first day, we’d begin moving bedtime back a little at a time.

Then came the practice week.

The alarm would go off.

Get up.

Get dressed.

Eat breakfast.

Pack what needed packed.

Be ready to walk out the door.

Almost like a dress rehearsal.

It wasn’t perfect, but it made that first real morning a whole lot less stressful.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized something else.

Kids do better when they’re part of the plan.

Instead of saying, “Here’s your bedtime,” ask, “What do you think will help you feel ready for school?”

Instead of telling them exactly what has to happen, let them help build the routine.

Give them ownership.

When kids understand the “why,” they’re much more likely to buy into the “what.”

That doesn’t mean parents stop being parents.

It just means we’re coaching instead of only directing.

Those little conversations can build confidence before the first bell ever rings.

We’re getting close now.

The countdown to a new school year has started.

Whether your child is heading to a neighborhood public school, a public cyber charter school, a charter school, a private school, or learning in another setting, every family benefits from a little preparation.

Maybe tonight’s conversation isn’t about homework.

Maybe it’s simply asking your child:

“What do you want your mornings to look like this school year?”

You might be surprised by the answer.

And while you’re making those plans, don’t forget our August Adventures challenge.

Take one more family adventure before the school year gets busy.

Visit that museum.

Read that historic marker.

Support a small business.

Grab some ice cream.

Make one more memory.

Summer isn’t over yet—but the next chapter is getting closer.

News story: https://www.wfmz.com/news/area/lehighvalley/local-school-districts-hold-back-to-school-celebrations-to-help-students-be-prepared-for-upcoming/article_9b206fa4-fdb9-4c20-bea2-65ed2bf9d800.html

Every once in a while, I come across a report that makes me stop and think.

Not because it tells me what to believe.

But because it gives me something interesting to learn.

Today’s rabbit hole?

Pennsylvania’s 2025–2026 School Immunization Rates, as reported by the Pennsylvania Department of Education.

Whether you’re a parent with a child in a neighborhood public school, a public cyber charter school, a brick-and-mortar charter school, a private school, or you’re homeschooling, understanding what’s happening across our Commonwealth is never a bad thing.

One thing I’ve learned over the years is this:

Good conversations start with good information.

Too often, we jump straight to headlines or social media posts without ever looking at the actual data ourselves.

This report is one of those opportunities to do just that.

It provides a statewide snapshot of immunization reporting in Pennsylvania schools and helps paint a picture of what schools are seeing across different communities.

I’m not sharing it to convince anyone of anything.

I’m sharing it because I think informed parents make stronger communities.

Take a few minutes.

Look through the numbers.

See what stands out to you.

Ask questions.

Learn something new.

You might notice trends.

You might have questions.

You might simply walk away knowing a little more than you did yesterday.

And honestly, that’s one of the reasons I started Candy Apple Advocacy in the first place.

Not to tell parents what to think.

But to encourage parents to stay curious, ask questions, and become more engaged in what’s happening around them.

If you enjoy digging into reports like this, let me know.

There are plenty of Pennsylvania education reports that don’t make the evening news but tell interesting stories about our schools and communities.

And before you close this page...

Don’t forget our August Adventures challenge.

Take the family somewhere you’ve never been this month.

Visit a historic marker.

Explore a museum.

Support a small business.

Walk through your hometown.

Take a selfie and share it.

Let’s spend August learning something new—whether it’s from a state report or from a place just down the road.

Sometimes curiosity starts with a spreadsheet.

Sometimes it starts with a road trip.

Either way, it’s worth the adventure.

One of my favorite things about Pennsylvania is that you never know what you’re going to find if you just take a different road home.

Seriously.

How many times have you driven past one of those blue-and-gold historical markers and thought, “One of these days I’m going to stop and read that.”

I’m guilty of it too.

Or maybe there’s that little ice cream stand everyone talks about, a mom-and-pop diner that’s been there forever, a museum you’ve always meant to visit, or even an old cemetery with stories waiting to be discovered.

This month, I want to challenge all of us—including myself—to slow down a little.

Let’s make August about adventures.

Not expensive vacations.

Not elaborate plans.

Just families spending time together and rediscovering the communities we call home.

Take the kids somewhere you’ve never been.

Walk through your downtown.

Visit a local business.

Read that historical marker.

Explore a park.

Find a little museum.

Maybe you’ll learn something about Pennsylvania.

Maybe you’ll learn something about your own town.

Maybe you’ll just make a memory that your kids will laugh about years from now.

Whatever you do...

Take a selfie.

Post it.

Tell us where you are.

Tag me so we can follow along.

I’d love to see parents from every corner of Pennsylvania showing off what makes their hometown special.

Now, while you’re out exploring, keep your eyes open.

This is campaign season.

Your state representative may be at the county fair.

A state senate candidate might be walking around your local festival.

They’ll be at community breakfasts, fireman’s carnivals, parades, church festivals, and neighborhood events.

If you see one...

Walk over.

Shake their hand.

Tell them you’re a parent.

Tell them about your kids.

Tell them what’s working.

Tell them what isn’t.

You don’t have to solve every problem in five minutes.

Just let them meet the people they’re asking to represent.

And if you don’t run into them?

Give their district office a call.

Ask if you can stop by.

Most lawmakers spend a lot of time back home during August. It’s one of the best opportunities all year to have a real conversation without making the trip to Harrisburg.

If there’s more than one candidate running, meet both.

If you can’t find either one, stop by a local party headquarters and introduce yourself there.

The point isn’t to argue.

The point is to build relationships.

That’s how communities get stronger.

That’s how parents find their voice.

That’s how leaders hear the stories that don’t show up in reports or spreadsheets.

This month, let’s fill Facebook with pictures of Pennsylvania.

Historic markers.

Main Streets.

County fairs.

Covered bridges.

Small businesses.

Museums.

Parks.

Cemeteries.

Ice cream stands.

Families making memories.

Because something tells me...

The families who spend August exploring together will be ready for something pretty special this fall.

I’m not quite ready to tell you everything we’re working on.

But trust me...

We’re getting closer.

Until then, get out there.

Take the scenic route.

Meet your neighbors.

Support a local business.

Talk with your elected officials.

Most importantly...

Make a memory with your family.

Because those memories—and the communities we build together—are worth every mile.

There are days when life feels heavier than it should.

Days when the phone rings with another update, another appointment, another challenge. Days when the miles on the car add up faster than the miles toward the finish line. Days when you wonder if you’re making any difference at all.

On those days, I remind myself of something simple:

My family is my strength.

Not because life has been easy for us.

Quite the opposite.

Over the years, our family has learned more medical terms than we ever wanted to know. We’ve sat in waiting rooms, celebrated small victories that others might overlook, and discovered that progress is rarely a straight line. We’ve learned about IEPs, therapies, specialists, hospitals, and the importance of advocating for the people you love.

None of those experiences were on our family roadmap.

Yet each one has shaped us.

When I look at my wife, I don’t just see the challenges she’s faced. I see determination. I see courage. I see someone who continues to fight through obstacles that most people will never experience.

When I look at my children, I see resilience.

They’ve taught me that strength isn’t measured by how easy life is. It’s measured by how you respond when life becomes difficult.

That lesson has carried over into every part of my life.

Whether it’s serving our community, leading at FCCA, or advocating for educational opportunities across Pennsylvania, my motivation has never been politics or recognition. It has always been personal.

Every meeting.

Every email.

Every late-night drive.

Every conversation with another parent.

Every mile traveled.

It all comes back to family.

Because every parent knows what it feels like to want the very best for their child. Every family has a story. Every family has faced challenges that others may never see.

Sometimes we forget that.

We compare ourselves to the highlight reels we see online instead of remembering that every family is carrying something.

Maybe it’s a medical diagnosis.

Maybe it’s financial stress.

Maybe it’s a child struggling in school.

Maybe it’s caring for a loved one.

Maybe it’s simply trying to hold everything together while hoping tomorrow is a little easier than today.

Whatever it is, you’re not alone.

One of the greatest gifts my family has given me is perspective.

They’ve reminded me that people deserve grace. That listening matters. That kindness costs very little but can change someone’s day. That showing up—even when you’re tired—is often enough.

Those lessons don’t stay at home.

They travel with me everywhere I go.

When I meet another parent, I don’t see a political party. I see someone who loves their child.

When I talk with community members, I don’t start with disagreements. I start with shared hopes.

When I advocate, I remember that behind every policy are real families trying to build better futures.

Family doesn’t just give us people to love.

Family gives us purpose.

It gives us courage on the days we feel weak.

It reminds us why tomorrow is worth another try.

For me, that’s what strength really looks like.

Not having all the answers.

Not pretending everything is okay.

But waking up each morning and choosing to keep moving forward because the people you love are worth every step.

My family is my strength.

And because of them, I’ll keep showing up.

Share

If you’re angry about this budget, you’re not alone.

Many cyber families are looking at the proposals coming out of Harrisburg and wondering how lawmakers can say they support public education while reducing support for the public schools their children attend.

But here’s the truth.

Being mad for a week doesn’t change anything.

Posting one angry comment doesn’t change anything.

Sharing one meme doesn’t change anything.

The people pushing these policies aren’t thinking about today.

They’re thinking about the next vote.
The next budget.
The next election.
The next headline.

Parents need to think the same way.

If this budget has shown us anything, it’s that school choice needs more than supporters.

It needs participants.

That means learning the issues.

Knowing your lawmakers.

Making phone calls.

Sending emails.

Showing up at meetings.

Telling your family’s story.

And yes...

Voting in November.

Because elections have consequences.

Budgets have consequences.

And those consequences land on our children.

Here’s another reality.

The groups pushing these changes are organized.

They have funding.

They have staff.

They have lobbyists.

They have campaigns.

Parents have something even more powerful.

Numbers.

But only if we use them.

One parent cannot compete with a million-dollar advocacy campaign.

Five parents can’t either.

Hundreds can.

Thousands absolutely can.

That is why Candy Apple Advocacy exists.

Not to tell you what to think.

To help you understand what’s happening.

To give you the tools to engage.

To connect parents across Pennsylvania.

To remind families that they are not alone.

Most importantly, to help change our mindset.

School choice isn’t something we defend only when it’s under attack.

It’s something we build, strengthen, and advocate for every single day.

So if you’re still angry about this budget...

Good.

Don’t waste that energy.

Channel it.

Subscribe.

Stay informed.

Stay engaged.

Bring another parent with you.

Because this isn’t about winning one budget battle.

It’s about making sure Pennsylvania families still have educational choices years from now.

The work starts today.

And it continues until November—and beyond.

Subscribe now

I didn’t sit down to write this blog.

It found me.

I was headed west, making the familiar drive home after another long day in Cleveland with Tabby.

If you’ve ever made a drive like that, you know the feeling.

The miles are quiet.

Your mind isn’t.

You replay conversations with doctors. You wonder if she’s comfortable. You think about the next appointments, the next visit, the bills waiting at home, the kids, and everything else life has piled onto your shoulders.

Then the radio played Running on Empty by Jackson Browne.

I’ve heard it plenty of times over the years.

But this time, one simple phrase landed differently.

“Running on empty.”

I don’t know if I’ve ever related to three words more.

The last two years have changed our family forever.

Bella’s medical journey.

Tabby’s strokes.

Hundreds of trips to hospitals and rehabilitation facilities.

Learning medical terms I never wanted to know.

Learning what it truly means to be a caregiver.

Trying to be the best husband I can.

Trying to be the dad my kids deserve.

Trying to lead organizations that matter to people.

Trying to help other families find hope.

Some days...

I’m just tired.

And I know I’m not alone.

Every day I hear from parents who are carrying burdens no one else sees.

Parents wondering how they’ll make it through another day.

Parents wondering if anyone in Harrisburg understands what their family is living through.

Parents trying to protect children who simply need a chance to succeed.

Then summer arrives.

The baseball fields fill up.

Families head to the lake.

Vacation photos fill social media.

Life slows down for many people.

But not for every family.

Not for the parent sitting beside a hospital bed.

Not for the family waiting on test results.

Not for the caregiver learning another medical routine.

And not for the parents spending another summer wondering whether politicians will once again treat their children’s education like a bargaining chip.

That’s the reality for so many families in Pennsylvania this year.

We’re being asked to fight like hell for the funding that allows our children to attend the public school that finally worked for them.

We’re making phone calls.

Writing emails.

Sharing our stories.

Explaining—again—that public cyber charter students are public school students.

Trying to remind people that behind every budget line is a child with a name, a face, and a future.

Some days it feels like nobody is listening.

Then I stop myself.

Because I remember something.

Children don’t have a microphone in the Capitol.

They don’t hire lobbyists.

They don’t make campaign donations.

They don’t stand at committee hearings.

They have us.

Parents.

Grandparents.

Teachers.

Neighbors.

People willing to stand up when it’s uncomfortable.

If you think someone else will fight for your child...

Maybe they will.

Maybe they won’t.

But no one will ever fight with the same determination as the person who kisses them goodnight.

No one remembers the bullying the way you do.

No one remembers the anxiety.

No one remembers the sleepless nights.

No one remembers the moment your child finally smiled because they found a school where they belonged.

You do.

That’s why your voice matters.

You don’t need to know every funding formula.

You don’t need to memorize every bill number.

You don’t need to be a professional advocate.

You just need to care enough to speak.

Tell your story.

Write the email.

Make the call.

Share the post.

Show up.

Because stories change hearts.

Hearts influence votes.

Votes shape laws.

And laws shape children’s lives.

That’s what Candy Apple Advocacy has always been about.

Not Democrats.

Not Republicans.

Not red.

Not blue.

Kids.

Parents.

Opportunity.

Hope.

As I watched the sun begin to disappear behind the hills on that drive home to western Pennsylvania, I realized something.

Maybe being an advocate isn’t about always feeling strong.

Maybe courage is showing up when you’re exhausted.

Maybe leadership is taking one more step when you don’t think you have another one left.

Maybe changing the world looks a lot more ordinary than we imagine.

One parent.

One story.

One phone call.

One child.

If you’re reading this today and you’re tired...

I understand.

If you’re overwhelmed...

I understand.

If you feel like no one hears you...

I understand.

Rest when you need to.

Laugh with your family.

Take your kids for ice cream.

Watch a sunset.

Recharge.

But don’t convince yourself that your voice doesn’t matter.

Because somewhere in Pennsylvania, another parent is just beginning a journey you already know.

And somewhere in Harrisburg, another vote is coming.

Your child doesn’t need a perfect advocate.

They already have the best one.

You.

Maybe we’re all running on empty sometimes.

But we’re not done.

Not while there’s another child worth fighting for.

I don’t remember much of what was said that day.

I was in fourth grade.

Our class met with our local state representative, Scott Hutchinson. Like most kids, I was probably more interested in getting out of class than understanding the details of state government.

But something stuck.

Maybe it was the fact that an elected official took time to meet with us. Maybe it was the idea that regular people could help shape what happened in Harrisburg.

Or maybe it was the book.

He gave us a book about the Pennsylvania Capitol.

For whatever reason, that book stayed with me.

Years passed.

I even remember running into Scott at the local mall a few years later and saying hello. At the time, it seemed like a small thing. Just a familiar face from a school visit.

Then life happened.

School.
Work.
Marriage.
Kids.
Bills.
Responsibilities.

Scott Hutchinson became Senator Scott Hutchinson.

And government became something that happened somewhere else.

Or at least that’s what I thought.

Then one day, I had to fight.

Not for myself.

For my children.

Like many parents, I found myself learning more about education policy than I ever expected. I started paying attention to legislation. Funding formulas. School choice. The decisions being made by people whose names most voters only recognize on Election Day.

So I did what any parent should do.

I looked up my elected officials.

And to my surprise, there was a familiar name.

Scott Hutchinson.

The same person who had stood in front of my fourth-grade class years earlier.

The same person whose book about the Capitol had sat in my memory for decades.

So I sent an email.

Then I made a phone call.

Eventually, my family met with him at his local district office.

A few months later, in January, I found myself sitting across from him again.

Only this time it wasn’t in a classroom.

It was in the Pennsylvania Capitol.

And that moment hit me harder than I expected.

Because suddenly I wasn’t the fourth grader holding a government book.

I was a father carrying a story.

A parent advocating for his children.

A citizen participating in the process I had spent years assuming belonged to somebody else.

I’ve met with other lawmakers since then.

I’ve walked through offices.

Sat in conference rooms.

Stood in hallways.

Talked with representatives, senators, staff members, and advocates.

And if I’m being honest, there are still moments when I feel small.

The Capitol is an enormous building.

The offices are impressive.

The history is overwhelming.

You can feel it when you walk through the halls.

You realize you’re standing where generations of Pennsylvanians have debated, argued, compromised, and governed.

Sometimes it’s easy to feel like you don’t belong there.

Like you’re just a regular parent.

Just a regular citizen.

Just one voice.

But then I remember something.

Those buildings belong to us.

Not the politicians.

Not the lobbyists.

Not the organizations.

Us.

The taxpayers.

The voters.

The parents.

And while I may feel small compared to the building, I know I belong there.

Not because I have a title.

Not because I have influence.

Not because I know all the answers.

I belong there because I have a story.

Because my children matter.

Because your children matter.

And because government works best when ordinary people refuse to leave the conversation to everyone else.

Funny how life works.

A fourth-grade classroom.
A book about the Capitol.
A chance encounter at the mall.

Then decades later, a father sitting in the same Capitol building, fighting for the next generation.

Sometimes the longest journeys bring us right back to where we started.

Only this time, we understand why we were there in the first place.

The Chester County DA Cleared Both Schools. So Why Are Public Cyber Charter Students Still Being Blamed?

I take absolutely no joy in writing this.

A 12-year-old Pennsylvania girl lost her life after enduring unimaginable abuse. A child is gone. A family is forever changed. Nothing about this story should be political.

But when elected officials, activists, and commentators begin using a child’s death to attack public cyber charter schools, the facts matter.

And right now, some of the most important facts are being left out.

The purpose of this article is not to defend every agency involved.

The purpose is not to excuse failures.

The purpose is not to relitigate a criminal case.

The purpose is to follow the timeline and examine what the public record actually says.

Because when you do, one conclusion becomes difficult to avoid:

The claim that a public cyber charter school failed Malinda Hoagland is not supported by the findings released by the Chester County District Attorney’s Office.

In fact, investigators specifically addressed the role of both schools.

The Chester County District Attorney stated:

“After being pulled from school at the end of 2023, Malinda attended a cyber school. There is no indication that either school failed to meet legal requirements to report abuse—in fact, there is evidence that teachers at both schools often checked in with Malinda.”

Read that carefully.

Investigators established that Malinda attended a cyber school after leaving her previous school.

Then investigators addressed the actions of both schools.

Not one school.

Not the traditional public school.

Not the public cyber charter school.

Both schools.

And after reviewing the evidence, investigators concluded there was no indication that either school failed to meet legal reporting requirements.

For anyone attempting to use this tragedy as evidence that public cyber charter schools somehow ignored abuse, that statement creates a major problem.

The lead law enforcement agency investigating the case explicitly declined to make that claim.

Instead, investigators found evidence that teachers from both schools often checked in with Malinda.

That should matter.

Because cyber students are public school students.

Cyber teachers are Pennsylvania-certified educators.

Cyber schools operate under the same mandatory reporting laws as every other public school in the Commonwealth.

And according to the District Attorney, both schools met those obligations.

So let’s walk through the timeline.

Not the political timeline.

Not the social media timeline.

The actual timeline.

2023: Concerns Existed Before Cyber School

According to the Chester County District Attorney:

“School records establish that Malinda had approximately 25 unexcused absences in 2023, and an additional 10 excused absences.”

Before cyber enrollment:

• Attendance concerns already existed.

• Educational concerns already existed.

• Child welfare concerns already existed.

These facts matter because they establish that concerns surrounding Malinda did not suddenly begin after she entered a public cyber charter school.

The documented concerns predate cyber enrollment.

November 2023: Removal From In-Person School

Investigators reported:

“Malinda was removed from in-person schooling in November of 2023.”

CBS Philadelphia similarly reported:

“Arrest papers for Rendell Hoagland and Cindy Warren indicate Malinda was pulled out of North Brandywine Middle School in November 2023.”

At this point, the public cyber charter school was not yet part of the story.

Late 2023: Reports Were Already Being Made

According to a lawsuit filed on behalf of Malinda’s half-sisters, concerns had already been reported.

CBS Philadelphia reported:

“The school district reported its own concerns to the county in late 2023.”

Whether those allegations are ultimately proven in court will be determined through the legal process.

But the allegation itself is important.

The lawsuit does not claim educators failed to report concerns.

It claims concerns were reported and the response afterward was inadequate.

That is a very different argument.

January 3, 2024: Withdrawal From Coatesville

CBS Philadelphia reported:

“She was eventually withdrawn from the Coatesville School District on January 3, 2024.”

Only after this point does the public cyber charter school timeline begin.

An Important Piece of Context

Since publishing this article, I have been informed of another important detail that deserves to be included.

According to information provided to me, when Malinda enrolled in the public cyber charter school, the school was not notified by the previous district that there were ongoing safety concerns regarding Malinda. Likewise, the cyber school was not informed by Children and Youth Services of any active concerns.

If accurate, that fact is critically important.

Much of the public discussion surrounding this tragedy assumes that the cyber school entered the situation with knowledge of prior concerns. However, if the cyber school was never informed by either the previous district or child welfare authorities, then educators were working with the information available to them at the time.

That context makes the Chester County District Attorney’s statement even more significant:

“After being pulled from school at the end of 2023, Malinda attended a cyber school. There is no indication that either school failed to meet legal requirements to report abuse—in fact, there is evidence that teachers at both schools often checked in with Malinda.”

The District Attorney’s Office reviewed the evidence and concluded there was no indication that either school failed its legal reporting obligations.

If the cyber school was not made aware of prior safety concerns and investigators still found evidence that teachers regularly checked in with Malinda, that raises an entirely different question than the one being discussed publicly.

The question is no longer whether educators ignored concerns.

The question becomes whether critical information was effectively shared between the systems responsible for protecting children.

That distinction matters.

And it deserves serious discussion if the goal is preventing future tragedies.

2024: Enrollment In A Public Cyber Charter School

The District Attorney states:

“After being pulled from school at the end of 2023, Malinda attended a cyber school.”

That sentence is important because investigators deliberately included it in the same paragraph where they addressed reporting requirements.

The DA’s office knew she attended a cyber school.

The DA’s office reviewed the evidence.

The DA’s office then concluded there was no indication either school failed to meet legal reporting requirements.

What Investigators Say Happened During Cyber School

NBC Philadelphia reported:

“According to investigators, Malinda’s father and stepmother used makeup to cover up her beatings and shackled her legs to the floor during her virtual classes.”

That allegation tells us something significant.

According to investigators, the adults responsible for abusing Malinda were actively attempting to conceal evidence of abuse.

The allegation is not that educators ignored obvious signs.

The allegation is that her abusers were actively working to hide those signs from people who might see her.

The Timeline Clears The Schools

Let’s review what the public record shows.

Before cyber enrollment:

✓ Attendance concerns existed.

✓ Welfare concerns existed.

✓ Reports had allegedly already been made.

After cyber enrollment:

✓ Teachers reportedly continued checking in.

✓ Investigators found no indication the cyber school failed reporting requirements.

✓ Investigators found no indication the traditional school failed reporting requirements.

The Chester County District Attorney’s statement is remarkably clear.

There is no indication either school failed to meet legal requirements to report abuse.

The Data Shows Reporting Is Happening

Pennsylvania’s Child Protective Services Annual Report provides additional context.

School employees generated 11,114 child abuse reports statewide.

That is the highest number of reports from any category of mandated reporter.

Yet only 4.8% of those reports were ultimately substantiated.

Some critics point to that number as evidence schools are getting it wrong.

I see something different.

Teachers are not investigators.

Their job is not to prove abuse.

Their job is not to secure convictions.

Their job is to report reasonable suspicion.

The data shows educators are reporting.

The question is what happens after those reports enter the system.

The Real Question

If educators reported concerns...

If teachers checked in...

If the District Attorney found no indication either school failed its legal duties...

Then what happened next?

That is the question Pennsylvania should be asking.

Because reporting is only the first step.

A report only protects a child if someone follows through.

Final Thoughts

Malinda Hoagland deserved better.

Every child deserves better.

But we do not honor her memory by rewriting the facts.

The timeline matters.

The District Attorney’s findings matter.

The truth matters.

And the truth is that the lead law enforcement agency investigating this case concluded there was no indication that either the traditional public school or the public cyber charter school failed to meet legal reporting requirements.

That should be the starting point for this conversation, not the ending point.

Sources

Chester County District Attorney News Release:
https://www.chesco.org/DocumentCenter/View/77409/2024_0725-News-Release-Upgrade-in-Charges-for-Two-Accused-of-First-Degree-Murder-of-a-12-Year-Old

NBC Philadelphia:
https://www.nbcphiladelphia.com/news/local/couple-charged-with-killing-girl-after-torturing-abusing-her-for-years-da-says/3923727/

CBS Philadelphia:
https://www.cbsnews.com/philadelphia/news/malinda-hoagland-chester-county-pennsylvania-abuse/

CBS Philadelphia (withdrawal timeline):
https://www.cbsnews.com/philadelphia/news/cindy-warren-arrest-child-abuse-malinda-hoagland-chester-county-children-youth-and-families/

Pennsylvania Child Protective Services Annual Report:
https://www.pa.gov/content/dam/copapwp-pagov/en/dhs/documents/docs/ocyf/documents/2024-annual-child-abuse-report-final.pdf

Jim Malliard is the Chief Strategist for Education Legislation and Parent Advocacy at Candy Apple Advocacy, a parent-led organization focused on education policy, transparency, and student-centered solutions in Pennsylvania.

Every year around budget season, I watch the same thing happen.

Parents get frustrated.
Families get worried.
Social media fills with comments about what lawmakers should do.

Then the budget passes.

And everyone asks what happened.

The truth is often uncomfortable.

Many parents never contacted the people making the decisions.

They never called.
Never emailed.
Never asked for a meeting.
Never told their story.

Meanwhile, lobbyists did.

Organizations did.

Special interests did.

Every single day.

That is why relationships matter.

If school choice matters to your family, your first call should not be made after a vote. It should happen before lawmakers ever walk into the room.

Call your Pennsylvania State Senator.

Not to yell.
Not to demand.

To introduce yourself.

Tell them who you are.
Tell them where you live.
Tell them about your child.

Ask for a meeting.
Ask for a Zoom call.
Ask for ten minutes of their time.

Make yourself a real person instead of a number on a spreadsheet.

Then follow up.

Send an email thanking them for listening.

Share your family’s story.

Maybe your child was bullied.
Maybe your child struggled with anxiety.
Maybe a public cyber charter school gave your family flexibility during a medical crisis.
Maybe a scholarship program opened doors that otherwise would have stayed closed.

Whatever your story is, tell it.

Lawmakers hear statistics all day.

They remember stories.

Then take one more step.

Tell your friends and family what you did.

Write a social media post.

Explain that you contacted your Senator.
Explain why.
Ask others to do the same.

Not because you want attention.

Because you need momentum.

This is where movements are built.

One parent calls.

Then another.

Then another.

Soon an office starts noticing.

Soon staff members start talking.

Soon lawmakers realize that families are paying attention.

That is how influence works.

Not through one viral post.

Not through one angry comment.

Through consistent engagement.

Day after day.

Week after week.

Until the budget is signed.

School choice supporters often make one critical mistake.

They assume someone else is handling it.

Someone else is making the calls.
Someone else is writing the emails.
Someone else is fighting the fight.

There is no someone else.

There is only us.

Parents.

Families.

Grandparents.

Students.

Citizens.

People who believe every child deserves an educational setting that works for them.

If school choice matters to your family, don’t wait for someone else to defend it.

Pick up the phone.

Send the email.

Tell your story.

Then ask one more parent to do the same.

Because one call is a complaint.

One thousand calls is a movement.

🚨 SENATE EDUCATION COMMITTEE 🚨

06/09/2026 — 12:00 PM — Harrisburg

This is where parents stop being spectators.

If lawmakers are going to debate education, funding, public cyber charter schools, public schools, taxes, staffing, and our children’s future… then parents need to make sure our voices are impossible to ignore.

CALL.
EMAIL.
COMMENT.
TAG THEM.

Be respectful.
Be direct.
Be loud.

Tell them:
Parents are watching.
Parents are engaged.
Parents expect transparency and accountability for ALL public school students.

📞 Senate Education Committee Members:

Senator Lynda Schlegel Culver Facebook
(717) 787-8928

Senator Lindsey Williams Facebook
(717) 787-6538

Senator Doug Mastriano Facebook
(717) 787-4651

Senator Kim Ward Facebook
(717) 787-6063

Senator David Argall Facebook
(717) 787-2637

Senator Jarrett Coleman Facebook
(717) 787-1349

Senator Dawn Keefer Facebook
(717) 787-8524

Senator Greg Rothman Facebook
(717) 787-1377

Senator Carolyn Comitta Facebook
(717) 787-5709

Senator Tim Kearney Facebook
(717) 787-1350

Senator Anthony H. Williams Facebook
(717) 787-5970

The buffalo is moving.
Not one parent.
Not one family.
Thousands.

🔥 SHARE THIS.
🔥 TAG PARENTS.
🔥 FILL THE COMMENTS.
🔥 LET HARRISBURG HEAR US.

A few weeks ago, I sat on the sidelines during the Pennsylvania primaries because I am an independent voter.

No vote.
No say.
No participation.

Just shut out.

And honestly? The more I thought about it, the more ridiculous the entire system started to feel.

Here is where I have landed.

We need to eliminate the parties.

Not opinions.
Not beliefs.
Not debate.

Parties.

You should walk into a voting booth and vote for the person you believe is best. Period.

Democrat.
Republican.
Independent.
Whatever.

Do your homework.
Research candidates.
Pay attention.
Think critically.

The ballot should not need to hold your hand and tell you what team somebody belongs to like politics is some kind of youth football league.

Matter of fact, maybe forcing people to actually learn something before they vote would not be the worst thing in the world.

And primaries should be fully open across the board.

One vote for governor.
One vote for lieutenant governor.
One vote for every office.
Simple.

The same way we vote in the fall.

Clean.
Direct.
Easy.

No games.
No gatekeeping.
No “you picked the wrong party registration six years ago so now sit quietly while everybody else decides.”

And school board races?

Absolutely no party affiliation.

None.

School boards should not feel like mini Congress battles fought at elementary schools while parents are just trying to figure out math scores, transportation problems, and whether their kid feels safe walking into class.

The deeper issue here is division.

I am exhausted hearing:
“The election was rigged.”
“The election was stolen.”
“The machines.”
“The conspiracy.”
“The deep state.”
“The fix was in.”

Cut the bullshit.

Seriously.

Cut the bullshit.

Because somehow every election is supposedly rigged, yet the people screaming the loudest still somehow keep winning offices.

So let me get this straight:
the system was rigged against you…
but you won anyway?

Then what are we even talking about anymore?

At some point, this constant outrage cycle stops being about protecting democracy and starts becoming a business model built on anger, clicks, donations, and keeping Americans divided against each other.

Meanwhile, regular people are trying to survive.

Parents are trying to educate kids.
Families are trying to pay bills.
Communities are trying to stay afloat.
Schools are trying to survive budget fights.
Teachers are burning out.
Programs are disappearing.

Those are real problems.

But instead, we keep getting dragged into endless political theater where everybody is screaming and nobody is solving anything.

I am an independent because I am tired of being told I have to pick a tribe before I am allowed to think.

Pennsylvania can do better than this.

America can do better than this.

And maybe it starts with something simple:
open the primaries, remove the labels, and make people vote based on knowledge instead of party branding.

Pennsylvania parents are running out of time to sit quietly while Harrisburg decides what stays, what gets cut, and whose kids are expected to do more with less.

Every budget season in Pennsylvania starts to sound the same.

“There is no money.”
“Everyone has to sacrifice.”
“Tough decisions have to be made.”

But somehow those “tough decisions” almost always land on families, classrooms, programs, opportunities, and the people working directly with our kids.

And here is the dangerous part:
most parents do not realize how much trouble is coming until the cuts are already announced.

By then, the program is gone.
The teacher is laid off.
The support disappears.
The opportunity vanishes.

Then everybody asks:
“How did this happen?”

It happens because too many people stay silent while decisions are being made.

That image says it plainly.

NO ACTION =
Funding cuts.
Programming loss.
Teachers unemployed.

That is not fearmongering.
That is the cycle.

But the bottom half matters just as much.

ACTION =
Calling.
Sharing.
Emailing.
Engaging everyone.

No one parent is going to fix this alone.

But hundreds of parents taking small actions together?
That changes pressure.
That changes attention.
That changes political calculations.

That is why WE THE PARENTS PA matters.

Not because it is some giant polished event.

Because it is a starting point.

A place for families to hear stories, support each other, speak up, and remind lawmakers that parents are watching this budget season.

Some parents will go live.
Some will tell their stories.
Some will simply watch and share.

Every role matters.

The people making decisions in Harrisburg count on families being too busy, too tired, or too disconnected to organize.

Let’s prove them wrong.

WE THE PARENTS PA

📅 May 25
🕓 4 PM – 8 PM

➡️ Watch the livestream
➡️ Share the event with another parent
➡️ Join the conversation live or claim a 10-minute slot here:
WE THE PARENTS PA Scheduling Link

And one more thing.

Subscribe.
Because this conversation is not ending after one livestream.

The budget season is just getting started.

Share this post.
Tag another parent.
Bring someone with you.

Pennsylvania families are stronger when we stop acting alone!

There are moments when movements are built in giant arenas with million-dollar stages and consultants telling people what to say.

This will not be one of those moments.

WE THE PARENTS PA is going to be something different.

On Monday, May 18 and Monday, May 25 from 4 PM to 8 PM, we are opening up a livestream across Pennsylvania focused primarily on public cyber charter school families and the future of education in this Commonwealth.

Not polished speeches.

Not scripted answers.

Not political theater.

Just real conversations.

Parents. Teachers. Administrators. Community voices. Maybe even a few lawmakers. Ten-minute windows where people can simply speak honestly about what education looks like in their lives right now.

Why they stayed.

Why they left.

What worked.

What failed.

What they are fighting for.

And let me be clear about something else.

There is no money behind this.

No production company.
No giant marketing budget.
No paid advertising campaign.
No team of consultants.

This is grassroots.

Which means the fuel for this event is simple:
shares, comments, reactions, and people willing to show up online.

That matters because four hours is a long time.

We need people willing to watch.
We need people willing to share the livestream.
We need people commenting.
We need people tagging friends.
We need people helping the algorithm understand that parent voices matter in Pennsylvania.

Sometimes movements are not built by the person holding the microphone.

Sometimes they are built by the people sitting at the kitchen table hitting “share.”

If you are nervous about going live, that is okay.

If you do not think your story is important enough, you are probably exactly the kind of person who should be involved.

And if all you can do is tune in during dinner, react to posts, invite a friend, or help keep the energy alive during those four hours — that matters too.

This is not about perfection.

This is about presence.

WE THE PARENTS PA will be livestreamed on:

• LinkedIn

• Facebook

• YouTube

If you would like to join me live, tell your story, or share your perspective, you can schedule a 10-minute time slot here:

WE THE PARENTS PA Scheduling Link

For too long, conversations about education have happened around families instead of with them.

WE THE PARENTS PA is our attempt to change that.

Two Monday nights.

Four hours each night.

Ten-minute conversations.

One Commonwealth.

And maybe, just maybe, a reminder that parents are still the largest voting bloc in Pennsylvania.

Share

May 19 is coming fast.

And if parents want to be taken seriously in Pennsylvania politics, this is the moment to prove it.

Not someday.

Not “when things calm down.”

Now.

We say parents matter.

We say kids come first.

We say lawmakers need to listen.

Good.

Then let’s act like it.

Here are 13 simple things parents can do starting now to get louder, more visible, and more impossible to ignore before Primary Day.

1. Find Your Lawmakers

Know who represents you in Harrisburg.

House. Senate. School board. Local officials.

If you don’t know their names, they already have the advantage.

2. Send One Email

Not a perfect email.

Not a policy paper.

Just a real message from a real parent.

3. Share Your Story Publicly

One Facebook post.

One photo.

One reason your child matters.

Stories move people more than spreadsheets.

4. Register Someone to Vote

Your spouse.

Your neighbor.

Your grown kid.

Your friend who “doesn’t follow politics.”

Bring them into the conversation.

5. Comment on a Lawmaker’s Post

Respectfully. Publicly. Clearly.

Parents need to stop whispering in private and start speaking where people can see it.

6. Wear School Spirit Gear

At the store.

At work.

At the gas station.

Normalize pride in your child and your school.

7. Attend Something Local

School board meeting.

Community event.

Candidate night.

Breakfast fundraiser.

Presence matters.

8. Take a Picture With Your Kids

Not for vanity.

For legacy.

One day they’ll know you fought for them.

9. Ask One Hard Question

Where is the money going?

Who benefits?

Why are parents ignored until election season?

You don’t need permission to ask.

10. Support Another Parent

Share their post.

Encourage them.

Back them up in the comments.

Movements grow when parents stop feeling alone.

11. Put the Election Date Everywhere

Calendar. Fridge. Phone reminder.

May 19, 2026.

Treat it like it matters—because it does.

12. Bring Your Kids Into the Conversation

Teach them voting matters.

Teach them civic engagement matters.

Teach them parents should never sit quietly while decisions are made for families.

13. Actually Vote

The simplest thing.

The most powerful thing.

If parents voted at the level they complained, Pennsylvania politics would look very different.

This is bigger than one election.

This is about whether parents become a force politicians fear ignoring.

The loudest people shouldn’t always be the lobbyists.

Sometimes it should be moms and dads saying:

Enough. Look at our kids.

I’ve got a soft spot for this one.

I was a varsity golfer. I remember the quiet of a course more than the noise of a gym. I remember leaving school early, clubs in the trunk, chasing daylight. No crowd. No spotlight. Just you, the swing, and a chance to get a little better.

That mattered.

It still does.

Which is why this feels… off.

Because now I’m watching conversations at the state level—lawmakers debating playoff formats, regulations tightening, decisions being made in rooms far away from locker rooms—and I can’t shake the question:

Why is the state this deep in high school sports?

I get the argument.

Sports create opportunity.
They build discipline.
They give kids a reason to show up, belong, and push themselves.

That part is real. I’ve lived it.

But somewhere along the way, we didn’t just support sports—we built an industry around them.

And that’s where it starts to lose me.

We’ve got million-dollar stadiums for teenagers.

We’ve got turf fields replacing grass—not because it’s better for kids, but because it’s easier to maintain and monetize.

We’ve got broadcast deals and paywalls to watch your own local team play on a Friday night.

And now… we’ve got lawmakers spending time debating playoff structures.

Let that sink in.

In a world where families are fighting for educational stability, where budgets are tight, where real issues are stacking up…

We’re debating playoff formats.

This isn’t anti-sports.

This is pro-common sense.

There’s a difference.

Because when I think back to those golf matches, there wasn’t a dollar attached to it. No branding strategy. No revenue model. Just a school giving kids a chance to compete.

That’s the point, right?

Student athlete.

Not athlete first. Not content creator. Not revenue generator.

Student.

And the broadcast piece? That one really sticks.

Why can’t local schools stream their own games freely?

Why does a parent have to hit a paywall to watch their kid play?

We talk about community, but then we lock it behind subscriptions.

That doesn’t feel like access.
That feels like extraction.

Subscribe

I’m not naive.

I know sports cost money. I know facilities need upkeep. I know organization matters.

But there’s a line between supporting something and overengineering it.

And I think we crossed it.

Quietly.

Maybe the better question isn’t “How do we regulate high school sports better?”

Maybe it’s:

“Why are we regulating them at this level in the first place?”

What happened to local control?
What happened to communities deciding what works for their kids?
What happened to keeping the focus on participation, not production?

Because if we’re being honest…

This isn’t just about sports.

It’s about how easily we let good things turn into systems.

And once something becomes a system, it attracts money, rules, influence—and suddenly the original purpose starts to fade.

I still love the game.

Always will.

But I don’t love what it’s becoming.

And I think a lot of parents, a lot of former players, a lot of people watching from the outside are starting to feel the same tension:

We want kids to play.

We just don’t want them turned into products.

So maybe it’s time to pull this back a little.

Let schools be schools.
Let communities lead.
Let kids compete without being part of a bigger machine.

Keep the lights on Friday nights.

Just don’t let them blind us to what really matters.

Share

There’s a lot of noise in politics right now—ads, endorsements, party lines, and talking points flying in every direction. But strip all that away, and one thing becomes clear:

These races will impact your kid’s classroom.

Not someday. Not in theory.
Right now.

Across Pennsylvania, key State Senate and House primaries are unfolding that will decide who sits in the rooms where education funding, policy, and priorities are set. And too often, those decisions happen without real input from the people most affected—parents.

Let’s change that.

State Senate Races to Watch

• 18th District (Democratic) — Sen. Lisa Boscola vs. Taiba Sultana

• 20th District (Republican) — Sen. Lisa Baker vs. Tyler Meyers

• 22nd District (Democratic) — Sen. Marty Flynn vs. Jeffrey Lake

• 42nd District (Democratic) — Sen. Wayne Fontana vs. Paul Steenkiste

• 46th District (Republican) — Sen. Camera Bartolotta vs. Albert Buchtan

• 48th District (Republican) — Sen. Chris Gebhard vs. Clovis Crane

State House Races to Watch

• 22nd District (Democratic) — Rep. Ana Tiburcio vs. Ce-Ce Gerlach

• 91st District (Republican) — Rep. Dan Moul vs. Lindsay Krug vs. Nickolas Lovell

• 117th District (Republican) — Rep. Jamie Walsh vs. Bill Jones

• 159th District (Democratic) — Rep. Carol Kazeem vs. Brian Kirkland

• 166th District (Democratic) — Rep. Greg Vitali vs. Judy Trombetta

• 195th District (Democratic) — Rep. Keith Harris vs. Sierra McNeil vs. Kenneth Walker

These are just some of the races drawing attention statewide—but here’s the truth:

👉 The most important race is the one in your district.

What Needs to Happen Next

We’ve spent too long watching from the sidelines while others define what education should look like for our kids.

That ends now.

If you’re a parent, you don’t need permission to engage—you need a plan:

1. Reach out directly
Email these candidates. Ask simple, direct questions:

• Where do you stand on education funding?

• How do you define fairness for families?

• What is your position on school choice options?

2. Get them on the record
No vague answers. No talking points.
Ask for clarity—and keep the receipts.

3. Show up with your kids
Take them to events. Let candidates see the faces behind the policies.

4. Document everything
Photos. Videos. Conversations.
Because stories move people—but proof moves systems.

5. Share what you learn
Post it. Talk about it. Tag them.
Make it impossible for these conversations to stay hidden.

This Isn’t Politics—It’s Personal

At the end of the day, this isn’t about red vs. blue.

It’s about whether the people asking for your vote are willing to stand in front of your family and answer real questions.

Because if they won’t talk to you now…
they won’t listen later.

We’ve treated politics like a spectator sport for too long.

But when it comes to our kids?

We don’t sit in the stands.

We step onto the field.

There’s something electric about draft night.

Hope.
Energy.
Belief that this next pick could change everything.

In a city that bleeds black and gold for the Pittsburgh Steelers, we know what it looks like to rally behind a team. We know how to show up. We know how to get loud. We know how to believe in potential before it’s proven.

But here’s the question that won’t let me sit still:

Do we do that for our kids?

We talk about quarterbacks at the watercooler.
We debate draft picks like our opinions matter—because in that world, they do.

But when it comes to our kids?

Too often, the conversations get quiet.
The passion gets muted.
The urgency fades into “someone else will handle it.”

What if we flipped that?

What if our kids were the first-round pick every single year?

What if we:

• Talked about their schools like we talk about trades

• Showed up for meetings like we show up for kickoff

• Defended their future like we defend our team

• Got loud—real loud—when decisions didn’t go their way

Because let’s be honest…

Nobody ever won a championship sitting quietly on the sidelines.

We know what winning looks like.

It’s preparation.
It’s showing up.
It’s belief.
It’s community.

And most of all—it’s ownership.

Fans don’t just watch a team.
They become part of it.

That’s the mindset shift we need.

Because raising strong, capable, supported kids?
That’s our Super Bowl.

And here’s the truth nobody says out loud:

There is no draft redo for our kids.

No second chance season.
No rebuilding year that gives time back.

Every decision made today shapes tomorrow.

So yeah—get loud.

Talk about your kids at the watercooler.
Share their stories.
Stand up in rooms where decisions are made.
Call out what’s wrong.
Celebrate what’s working.

Bring that same energy. That same pride. That same fire.

Because if we can pack a stadium for a game…

We sure as hell can stand up for our kids.

And when we do?

That’s how we win it all.

I know a lot of you have already reached out to your lawmakers.
You’ve sent the emails.
You’ve made the calls.
You’ve shown up when you could.

And I also know the frustration that comes with feeling like nothing is moving.

But maybe we’ve been thinking about this the wrong way.

Maybe it’s not about one email.
Maybe it’s not about one visit.
Maybe it’s not even about Harrisburg.

Maybe it’s about every day.

Maybe today, you tell one person about your child’s school.
Maybe you share how a public cyber charter—or whatever school your family chose—has made a difference in your home.
Maybe you post in your local Facebook group about why your school matters.

Maybe you take that group text that usually drives you crazy…
…and instead, you drop your lawmaker’s number in there and say:
“Call. Tell them about your kid.”

Maybe it’s a quick email.
Maybe it’s a phone call.
Maybe it’s stopping by an office when you’re nearby.

None of these things feel huge on their own.
But together? They’re everything.

Because here’s the reality—
The other side has millions of dollars.
They have teams of people repeating the same message over and over again.

What do we have?

We have something stronger—
We have real stories.
We have real kids.
We have real outcomes.

And if every parent made even one small, intentional action each day…
we wouldn’t just be part of the conversation—
we would change it.

This doesn’t have to be a fight.
It doesn’t have to be conflict.

It needs to be a conversation.

Tell your barber.
Talk to that parent you see at the store.
Start a small group of local parents and just begin talking, sharing, organizing.

Not everyone can go to Harrisburg.
Not everyone should.

I can go a couple times a year.
I can shake hands, send emails, make calls, ask questions about bills.

But this movement?

It doesn’t grow because of a few people doing a lot.

It grows when everyone does a little.

And when that happens—
those small actions don’t stay small for long.

They add up.
They build momentum.
They turn the tide.

Every day. Every voice. Every parent.

That’s how this works.