From a very young age, my parents had me practice spelling when we were in the car. I remember feeling proud when I nailed challenging words (at the time) like “ambulance” and “restaurant.” I wanted to learn more, and I did with my parents' encouragement.

In fifth grade, my class was assigned to write and illustrate a short book. With no restrictions on the subject, I wrote a detective thriller called The Chase to Catch Poster. It was far from a literary masterpiece (and, yes, the title is confusing), but I threw myself into the story. I suspect my creative liberties may have led the teacher to assign specific topics the next time around — but by then, I had already felt the power of writing. I was off to the races.

Years later, halfway through college while interning in Senator Ron Johnson’s office, it all came together for me. I realized that ideas alone rarely persuade people — it is how they are communicated that matters. The words. The tone. The brevity. The clarity. The context in which they are consumed. I had been on a policy-focused path majoring in political science, but this experience made me pivot.

I returned to Boston to finish my degree, adding a public relations minor and knowing with certainty that I wanted to work in strategic communications. I wanted to shape narratives. I wanted to craft messages that moved people — whether toward a policy, a brand, or a belief.

Since then, I have had the good fortune to work with incredible people — from U.S. Senators to the country’s top skin cancer surgeons. But my professional philosophy has stayed the same since that “aha” moment: I want to help people and organizations with the ambition to lead succeed. I want to do so with integrity, a sense of humor, and an unwavering commitment to top-notch work.

And I still love words.