A Fair Shot

I was born in 1976 in Philadelphia and raised in public schools. For our family, the path forward wasn’t money or connections—it was work and education.

My parents immigrated to the U.S. in the 1970s. I was born in 1976 in Philadelphia and raised in public schools. For our family, the path forward wasn’t money or connections—it was work and education.

I still remember my mother late at night, sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of notecards, helping me memorize English words—one by one. She knew being strong in the English language meant being strong in America.

And my father, an engineer at a manufacturing company, would ask over dinner: “What happened to the other 10%?”—because education was our ladder up.

When I moved to Silicon Valley—the wealthiest place on Earth—I had $100,000 in student debt. No connections. No famous name. No political backing. In fact, the establishment fiercely opposed me.

But I had faith. That if I stayed true to my convictions, if I kept showing up, kept doing the work—eventually, the doors would crack open.

That faith was in my blood. My grandfather spent four years in jail during Gandhi’s independence movement—choosing principle over personal comfort. He believed in human rights even when it meant prison.

So yes, I understand those who feel dismissed, underestimated, overlooked. I know what it’s like to fight to be heard. To outwork everyone just to get a chance.

I believe in an America where it’s not about who cuts deals or curries favor—but about who works hard. I want to fight for them. To make sure they get a fair shot.