Why I Keep Fighting — As a Parent, Not a Politician
Even when the work gets heavy, the mission stays clear
To the parents who will understand this in their bones:
I’m not writing this as an advocate today. I’m writing this as a dad who has been walking through one of the hardest years of his life — and knows many of you have walked through your own storms too.
My daughter Bella went in for a simple procedure this year. Something routine. Something none of us thought twice about.
And it went terribly wrong.
She coded.
We almost lost her.
And every day since has been a fight to rebuild what was taken from her in minutes.
At the very same time, her mother suffered two strokes. She is still in the hospital, still fighting, still unsure what tomorrow looks like.
No one prepares you for that kind of weight.
No parent expects to carry all of that at once.
And now, while trying to hold my family together, I’m being told that my daughter’s school — the one place that kept her engaged, supported, and steady through all of this — might lose nearly 25% of its funding.
That the school that helped her survive emotionally and academically might not be able to keep doing what it does.
That fear hits different when you’re already doing everything you can just to keep your kid moving forward.
We didn’t choose this school because it was easy.
We chose it because she needed it.
Because the bullying in our old district broke her down.
Because the adults there didn’t make things better — they made things worse.
And once you’ve watched your kid lose pieces of themselves… you fight like hell to protect whatever brings them back.
And this school did.
It brought her back.
It gave her space to grow, to breathe, to be herself again.
And that’s why this hurts so deeply.
This isn’t politics.
This isn’t left or right.
This isn’t about winning arguments online.
This is about our kids.
Yours. Mine. All of ours.
Every child deserves a place where they feel safe.
Where they can learn without fear.
Where their needs come first — not the system’s comfort.
Not someone else’s agenda.
Not adult egos or old grudges.
Just the child.
If you’re a parent reading this, you know that feeling — the one that hits you right in the chest when your kid is hurting or scared or lost. You know the lengths you’d go. You know what you’d sacrifice. You know that look in their eyes when they finally find a place where they can just be okay.
That’s all I’m fighting for.
So I’m asking you — as one parent to another:
Don’t stay quiet.
Don’t wait until after decisions are made.
Your voice matters more than any title, any position, any room in Harrisburg.
Tell your story. Loud enough that someone has to hear it.
Our kids deserve stability.
They deserve safety.
They deserve choice.
And they deserve adults who remember that childhood should not be collateral damage in a policy fight.
From one parent to another:
Keep fighting for your kids.
I’ll keep fighting for mine.
— Jim
P.S. If you want to join my fight, support our journey, or stay updated, add your email today. Together, we can make a real difference for kids who need us most.