Standing In The Arena

After all of this reflection about Tatsuda’s, I understand something clearly now.

I know why the school board work matters so much to me.

I know why I stepped in as president during a time of immense crisis.

It’s because this is what I know how to do.

I was raised inside a living system that mattered to an entire community.

I watched how decisions echoed outward—into families, livelihoods, futures.

I learned early that when something essential is under strain, someone has to hold steady.

And I can hold steady under extreme pressure and change.

I can also handle public scrutiny.

I have known the arena for much of my life.

But I was truly tested when I had to be the one to tell the community that their beloved grocery store would not be returning.

That declaration carried my name.

I stood in it anyway.

I also know how to compartmentalize responsibility and personal tragedy.

How to show up prepared and clear-eyed while carrying public devastation with grace.

How to honor what is breaking without letting it break what others depend on.

So when the district began to unravel, something in me recognized the moment.

Not because it was easy.

Not because it was glamorous.

But because it was familiar.

My life taught me how to stay when things are fragile.

I know how to carry responsibility that isn’t just personal, but collective.

I know how to lead with care, memory, and resolve when the stakes are real.

I didn’t step in to prove myself.

I stepped in because my life prepared me for this kind of work.

This may not be where I stay forever.

But it explains why it mattered.

Why I couldn’t look away.

Why showing up felt necessary.

Showing up in moments like this is not new to me.

It’s something I’ve been shaped to do.