I grew up in a hardworking family shaped by faith, discipline, and respect for service. One of the greatest influences in my life was my adopted grandfather, a U.S. Navy veteran who served during World War II aboard a Buckley-class destroyer escort. When I lost him to bladder cancer in 2007, I made a promise at a young age that I would live a life of service in his memory.

My path has not been traditional. I was adopted as an infant, grew up navigating medical challenges, and later found myself caught in decisions about my future that were made without my voice fully being heard.

During that season, my faith was tested, but it was also my anchor. I realized that while my "service" might not look like my grandfather's, it could be just as vital. I found my mission not on the open sea, but in fighting for those who are often overlooked. I committed myself to restoring dignity to those who have been silenced, turning my own challenges into a platform for others.

The disability community carries far more talent than this world often realizes. Too often, ability is measured by limits instead of potential. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once stood before the world and declared, “I have a dream,” calling a nation to see people for their dignity rather than their differences. Rosa Parks showed us that courage can be quiet—and that change often begins with a single act of standing your ground.

Today, it’s time to ring the bell — to awaken the world to the value, capability, and purpose within the disability community.

And if I’m being honest... I’m pretty sure I was born in the wrong era, because I would’ve loved to serve on a battleship like the Iowa-class.