As most of you know, I was born and raised in Woodland. I cannot separate my life from this city.  It has left its mark on me in every way.  I’m sure many of you feel this same sentiment and know just how strong the ties are.  Every day on my way to work I pass the elementary school I attended.  Often I pass places my family once lived.  I remember riding my bike on Gibson and Road 102, areas that look far different than they did when I was a kid.  But no matter how much Woodland has grown and changed, the memories remain.  It’s not only the past that ties us to a place, though; it’s also how we imagine our future.  I can’t imagine leaving Woodland.  Constantly, I think about the life I want to create here.  I watch my brother’s children growing up and I understand this idea of continuity, how each year the roots grow stronger, how with each generation the roots grow deeper.

Almost five years have passed since I stood here and announced the kick-off of my city council campaign.  I was twenty-three at the time.  Guided by a strong sense of idealism, I knew I wanted to have a role in my hometown.  I believed that the city needed a fresh perspective; my youth and inexperience were assets.  Woodland needed to hear a new voice.  Thankfully, many Woodlanders agreed.  I’ve learned a lot in the last four years.  I’ve learned the benefits, but also the difficulties of compromise.  I’ve learned that our community is often divided, and that decisions are rarely universally applauded.  I’ve learned the many ins and outs and complicated workings of city-government.  But still, I look back to the excitement of my first campaign; I remember the idealism that guided me, and I know that it remains as strong as ever.  I want Woodland to continue being the special city that it is.  I want to preserve the history and integrity of our city.  I want future generations to enjoy the kind of childhood that I experienced.  I want them to feel the same ties to their hometown as I do.  This is the idealism that guides me, and even though I fully realize that the day-to-day decisions of city politicians are rarely so lofty and inspired, I do know that optimism and hope make a difference.  Every decision I make, every vote I cast, whether it be for public safety, youth and senior initiatives, historical redevelopment, decisions regarding growth and fiscal responsibility – I make knowing that what’s at stake is the future of Woodland.  Every city changes, but what can we do so that those changes are for the better?  I want Woodland to grow, but I want it to do so responsibly.  The idea is simple: like me, many of us are here this evening because this is our home.  We want to do our part to protect it.

Often I ask myself, “Why do I do this?”  The campaigns are long and can be difficult; the council meetings, the committees, the board meetings, all take time.  But they all lead to decisions which lead to a stronger community and a better Woodland…and I realize that I played a part.  That maybe it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been there.  I’m in a privileged position; I make decisions that affect people’s lives.  I understand the responsibility.  But still I ask myself, “Why do I do this?”  When I addressed you five years ago I mentioned the importance in my life of a man many of you may remember: Burdette Jenks.  Burdette was an old rancher, a lifelong Woodlander, who one day, as I rode my bike past his ranch, stopped me and asked if I wanted a job picking walnuts.  I was only seven years old and was excited about the possibility of making money.  Burdette and I quickly became close.  Every day after school I couldn’t wait to head out to his ranch.  He taught me many things: responsibility, for one, dedication, and he was the first to ever talk to me about pursuing my education, always expressing the importance of going to college.  For over fifteen years we remained friends.  He called to congratulate me when I was elected Student Body President at Sac State.  He made the first donation to my city-council campaign, the result of which, sadly, he didn’t live to see.  So when I ask, “Why do I do this?”  I remind myself of Burdette Jenks’s selflessness.  Why did he stop me as I rode my bike past his ranch?  Why did he offer me a job and use it as a way to impart life lessons?  Why did he reach out to me?  I don’t know exactly.  All I do know is that what he did mattered in my life, more than he probably ever knew.  He felt a responsibility and acted upon it. 

I feel a responsibility as well, toward Woodland, toward our home.  There are many ways to act on this responsibility, but in whatever capacity we contribute, the important thing is that we work together.  Because in the end we share the same commitment: to each other, to Woodland, to our past memories and to the memories yet to be created.

Thanks again….Lets win on June 3rd!