I Have Political Preferences. They Are Still Not the Point.

Apparently, attending a political event now requires a disclaimer.

So here it is.

If I attend an RNC event, I have not suddenly become a Republican operative.

If I attend a DNC event, I have not suddenly become a Democratic operative.

There is no secret ceremony at the door. Nobody scans my forehead, uploads a party platform directly into my brain, hands me a matching jersey, and sends me home with instructions about who I am now required to hate.

I am an American.

More importantly, when I walk into a political event as an advocate, I am there because the military community has issues that require elected officials from both parties to actually talk to one another.

That should not be controversial.

Yet somehow, in modern political culture, simply being willing to speak to both sides can make people suspicious.

If you attend a Republican event, someone assumes you are Republican.

If you attend a Democratic event, someone assumes you are Democratic.

If you attend both, apparently you have confused everyone.

Good.

Maybe some confusion is overdue.

Yes, I Have Personal Political Preferences

Let me clear up another misconception.

Being nonpartisan in advocacy does not mean I have no political opinions.

Of course I do.

I am an adult American with a functioning brain, a voting record, life experience, policy opinions, and preferences about how government should operate.

I have candidates I like more than others.

I have policies I agree with and policies I strongly disagree with.

I have political philosophies that align more closely with some people than others.

That is normal.

What I generally do not do is publicly turn those personal preferences into ammunition for whichever side wants to use them.

Because the second an advocate becomes publicly identified primarily as “Republican,” “Democrat,” “MAGA,” “progressive,” “liberal,” “conservative,” or whatever other label happens to be useful that week, half the room can stop listening before the conversation even starts.

And I am not interested in making advocacy harder just so strangers on the internet can know exactly how I vote.

My ballot is private.

My policy positions are not.

There is a difference.

My Personal Politics Are Not the Mission

When I am advocating for veterans, service members, military families, caregivers, and surviving families, my personal political preferences are not the most important thing in the room.

The issue is.

Does a surviving spouse deserve fair treatment?

Does a wounded veteran deserve access to earned benefits?

Does a military family need support during transition?

Does a service member have a problem that requires legislative action?

Does a policy unintentionally hurt one part of the military community while helping another?

Those questions do not magically change depending on whether the person sitting across the table has an R or a D after their name.

The people affected by those policies certainly do not stop existing when control of Congress changes.

Their mortgages do not become partisan.

Their disability ratings do not become partisan.

Their survivor benefits do not become partisan.

Their medical care does not become partisan.

Their children do not become partisan.

Their problems are still there on Election Day plus one.

Advocacy Is Not a Political Purity Test

One of the strangest things about modern politics is the expectation that talking to someone means endorsing everything they believe.

It does not.

I can agree with someone on veterans policy and disagree with them on immigration.

I can agree with someone on survivor benefits and disagree with them on taxes.

I can support someone's position on one bill and oppose their position on the next one.

I can sit across from someone whose political philosophy is very different from mine and still have a productive conversation about an issue affecting military families. (or at least try to)

This is called being an adult.

It is also how representative government is supposed to function.

You identify the issue.

You find common ground where possible.

You argue your position where necessary.

You build enough support to move the issue forward.

You do not need matching bumper stickers first.

I Will Go Where the Conversation Is Happening

If the RNC hosts an event where military issues are being discussed and I have an opportunity to advocate for the military community, I am willing to go.

If the DNC hosts an event where military issues are being discussed and I have an opportunity to advocate for the military community, I am willing to go.

If independents, libertarians, conservatives, liberals, moderates, or the politically homeless invite me into a serious policy conversation, I am willing to talk.

Possibly even that elected official everyone on social media has decided I am absolutely forbidden to speak to.

Scandalous, I know.

But I am not going into those rooms to collect partisan merit badges.

I am going because sometimes the person you disagree with on fifteen things may be exactly the person you need on number sixteen.

That is politics.

That is coalition building.

That is advocacy.

Stop Treating Politics Like Rival Football Teams

Somewhere along the way, too much of American politics started operating like sports fandom.

Pick your team.

Wear the colors.

Cheer when your side scores.

Boo the other side no matter what.

Never admit the opposing team made a good play.

Never criticize your own team because somebody from the other side might hear you.

And whatever you do, never sit in the wrong section.

That may be entertaining during football season.

It is a terrible way to govern a country.

Advocacy requires something different.

Sometimes your allies will disappoint you.

Sometimes your political opponents will surprise you.

Sometimes the best amendment comes from someone you usually disagree with.

Sometimes the worst provision is buried in a bill sponsored by someone you generally support.

If party loyalty prevents you from acknowledging any of those things, advocacy becomes marketing.

I Will Criticize Both Sides

Working with both parties also means being willing to criticize both parties.

That matters.

If Republicans support a policy that harms the military community, I will say so.

If Democrats support a policy that harms the military community, I will say so.

If one side introduces a good bill, I am not going to pretend it is terrible because the wrong person introduced it.

If my preferred side introduces a bad bill, I am not going to pretend it is wonderful because admitting otherwise might make the team look bad.

That is not advocacy.

That is public relations.

And I am not interested in becoming anyone's unpaid political public relations department.

Privacy Is Not Dishonesty

Some people believe that if you refuse to announce your personal political preferences publicly, you must be hiding something.

No.

I am maintaining boundaries.

My personal political preferences are not owed to the internet.

And frankly, publicly declaring them could undermine the very advocacy work I am trying to accomplish.

Why hand someone a screenshot they can pull out two years later and say:

“See? She is really one of THEM.”

No thank you.

I would much rather someone evaluate my position based on the policy argument I am making today.

Read the bill.

Read the regulation.

Read the data.

Look at who is affected.

Then decide whether I am right or wrong.

My voting history is not evidence.

The Military Community Is Bigger Than Either Party

The military community is not politically uniform.

Never has been.

It includes people from different regions, backgrounds, generations, religions, occupations, and political philosophies.

Trying to force the entire military community into a single partisan box does not strengthen advocacy.

It shrinks it.

If an issue genuinely affects veterans, service members, families, caregivers, or survivors, then advocates should be capable of explaining that issue to lawmakers across the political spectrum.

A good argument should survive contact with both parties.

And sometimes that means walking into rooms where everyone does not think like you.

That is not betrayal.

That is the job.

The Mission Comes First

So yes.

I have personal political preferences.

You probably do too.

But I do not need to announce mine every time I walk into a room.

I do not need to publicly pledge allegiance to Team Red or Team Blue before discussing survivor benefits.

I do not need to ask someone's party affiliation before deciding whether they are allowed to help.

And I certainly do not need permission from partisan gatekeepers to speak with elected officials from both parties.

If Republicans want to work on an issue affecting the military community, I will work with them.

If Democrats want to work on it, I will work with them.

If both want to help, excellent.

I will bring extra chairs.

Because my job as an advocate is not to protect a political brand.

It is not to help one side score points against the other.

It is not to win an argument on social media.

It is to represent the people affected by policy and try to make that policy better.

Country first.

Mission first.

People first.