I believe the House of Representatives should be made up of people from all walks of life: Doctors, Veterans, social workers, bartenders, lawyers, scientists, artists, and yes, oyster farmers. Without broad representation, the American experiment lacks the necessary nuance to thrive.

It has been less than a week since Janet Mills dropped out of the Senate race. Politicians across the state, including my 3 opponents, have thrown their support behind the presumed Democratic nominee, Graham Platner.

Many expected my endorsement would come quickly, as our platforms align more closely than those of any other federal candidates. We are the only two willing to speak openly about imperialism, and who unequivocally agree that what is taking place in Palestine is a genocide.

But my endorsement cannot be a quick statement of support, and for good reason. It is no secret that Graham has made many mistakes in the past. Hell, he made a major mistake last month—and he’s going to continue to make mistakes, as all of us will.

As a social worker who specifically supports older adults and people with intellectual disabilities, I will not mince words. Using the “R” word is harmful to those I hold dearest. It was heartbreaking to hear, and it hurts to see so many people defend its use.

We have to be willing to hold people in charge, or who want to be in positions of power, accountable. If we want things to change, we cannot provide excuses for every mistake someone makes - but we can hold them accountable for their mistake, and learn from it. As a friend, I believe Graham is working to become a better person. As a social worker, I have to provide him the opportunity of forgiveness and change.

I know certain things to be true: Graham supports women, fights for the working class, understands history and the levers of power deeply, and he is not a nazi. I know these things because I worked on the Graham Platner campaign before I ran for office. Many things can be said about a campaign team built by, for, and around men, but I’m here to talk about Graham, not the campaign industrial complex.

My social work practice and final year of school have been focused on analyzing, researching, writing, and formatting policy with experts across the state, which is one of the things I worked on with the Platner campaign. I was with the campaign from September to January—through the hardest parts of it.

Graham’s commitment to Mainers and to the progressive movement is something I’ve never seen before. It’s something that inspired thousands of other young people across the country to run for office this year. His belief in my ability to craft intentional, meaningful policy helped me believe in myself.

It is more important now than ever that we uplift young progressive voices—those of us impacted by a failed economy, crushing student debt and rent prices, and a collapsing healthcare system.

That is why I am proud to endorse my friend, Graham Platner, for the United States Senate.

In addition, his wife Amy is a badass and is handling this season of their life like a champion, and it has been the pleasure of my life to get to know her.

This week, an investigation by NPR reported that the public database of Jeffrey Epstein files is missing dozens of pages tied to sexual abuse allegations involving Donald Trump. One accusation was from a thirteen-year-old girl. When I read that, sadly, I wasn’t shocked. This is reality for far too many women. Women whom you likely know. Women who have never had a platform to speak about the abuse they endured. Women who kept going because they had no other choice.

When I was thirteen, a trusted person close to my family began sexually assaulting me. The abuse continued for years. And it wasn’t limited to him–I became a plaything for his friends. A few months after the abuse began, I desperately tried and wanted to end my life, but my family, thankfully, caught on to how much pain I was in. I am grateful to have been supported through publicly-funded mental health care through Medicaid and my tribe, and to be here today. But that was not the first time a man had abused, harassed, or belittled me, and it wasn’t the last.

When women, like me, speak about the men who harm them, we are rarely believed. Regardless of the cost of naming names or the consequences we might endure for protecting our sisters, we must yell. Loudly.

Today, I filed for a protective order against a former partner who has been stalking and harassing me with sexually explicit images, voicemails, and dozens of messages meant to humiliate and frighten me.

I refuse to be quiet, not because I’m running for office, but because when men speak, they’re (almost) always automatically believed. Their stories are hardly ever verified, while women are vilified. Because men overwhelmingly hold the reins of power. Not all men fall into this category, but they seem to goose-step into it when convenient.

My story should be heard and taken seriously, as should the countless other women who have had to endure overt and covert harassment.

This is not the first time I have encountered such abuse. My life is not defined by what was done to me, but it has been shaped by what I have survived. And I am not just surviving, but thriving. I am running against three men who might (barely) grasp what it means to be a woman in our society. That is not bitterness. That is reality. We are stronger when we come together, tell our stories, and bring the abusers and their heinous actions to light.

We cannot and will not be silent. Not today. Not tomorrow.

Victims quickly learn that telling the truth comes with a tremendous cost. But we are also the trailblazers who are fighting to ensure that the next generation of women doesn’t need to endure the same abuse. I am running for office because silence is not neutral. Silence protects them and does nothing to benefit you, your children, or your neighbors. Truth protects us.

Despite all of this, I am moving forward, and we should all be striving to move forward. If you or someone you know has experienced sexual assault, you are not alone. RAINN’s National Sexual Assault Hotline offers free, confidential, 24/7 support in English and en Español.

Call 800.656.HOPE (4673)

Chat at RAINN.org/hotline

Text HOPE to 64673

My goal as a congressional candidate has always been to connect with voters face to face - at events, town halls, and third spaces (a fancy word for places your community gathers). But just a few weeks ago, I was approached by the host of an event being held to raise funds for a member of the Maine Democratic Party, where I could meet with voters and donors.

Imagine my face when the host kindly informed me that an opponent of mine had already “thrown down” a $1,000 donation toward their event, and that it would be great if I could do the same. If I could match it, I’d get the same treatment. If not, I was welcome to attend - but donors and voters would not be told I’d be there.

And to put icing on the cake, the Maine Democratic Party requires me to pay $6,000 to access VAN, a software designed to filter voter data, which is crucial to run a modern campaign. With $6,000, my campaign could fund office space for the entirety of the election cycle that doubles as a mutual aid hub, or support volunteer organizing and neighbor-to-neighbor outreach, and host community events where food and clothes are collected for donation.

Maine’s 2nd district spans 27,000 square miles, or 92% of the state’s land, making it physically impossible to knock on every door before the primary. Young voters, older voters, rural residents, and others disconnected from the politics and organizing seen in major population hubs are already tough to reach and are the first to be left out. When expensive, partisan data systems control access to voters, campaigns are forced to target residents labeled as “likely supporters.” This puts those community-based candidates at a disadvantage.

And I refuse to run a campaign that only represents the people of Lewiston, Bangor, or Augusta - I’m going to run a campaign that represents all of rural Maine. And that means connecting with as many of the second district’s nearly 700,000 residents as possible.

Candidates must use several modes of communication to effectively reach voters, like social media, newspapers, television, and radio– all of which cost money, and were expected expenses when I decided to run. However, I’m learning quickly that there are other pathways to campaign success, such as paying $1,000 to feature my name and face on invitations to exclusive fundraising events. Unfortunately, that’s our country’s current status quo: if a candidate refuses to “show up” financially, voters may only ever hear from the elites who can afford to.

Don’t worry, though, your donations to my campaign aren’t going toward things like this - they’re going back into Maine and connecting Mainers with their communities, recruiting volunteers who can shovel driveways and drive those in need to doctor’s appointments. We’ll host skill-shares, not cocktail hours. We’ll build infrastructure that serves people now, not “someday.”

Because if campaigns are swimming in cash while communities drown, then something is fundamentally broken.

Help me reach more Mainers