My name is Jon. I’ve spent my life as an everyday citizen, not a career politician. Like many Gen Xers, I’ve often held the mindset of “I’m just going to stay out of it.” For decades, I watched as bandaid after bandaid was applied to our nation’s problems without ever addressing the underlying issues. It was easy to stay on the sidelines, observing the noise and chaos of a political system that rarely seemed to get anything meaningful done.

But after years of watching the same patterns repeat—empty promises, patchwork solutions, and an ever-growing disconnect between the people and those in power—I can no longer maintain that mindset. I’ve shifted into the “Fine, I’ll do it myself” mindset that defines my generation’s resilience and determination.

I’m divorced, a single dad, and I’ve faced many of the struggles that most Americans know all too well—housing challenges, financial insecurity, and the constant balancing act of family and work. I’ve never been the type to seek public assistance or expect someone else to fix my problems. I’ve always believed in earning my way, in taking pride in doing it myself. That’s how I was raised, and it’s what the American dream has always meant to me: working hard, overcoming challenges, and building a better life through determination and perseverance.

But no matter how much pride I had, there were times in my life when the needs of my family were more important than my pride. Those were very painful times—moments where I had to make decisions that went against everything I believed about self-reliance and independence, all because I wanted to make sure my kids had what they needed. Those experiences shaped me profoundly, teaching me that strength isn’t just about standing on your own—it’s about knowing when to do whatever it takes for the people you love.

In my adult life, I’ve never strived for luxury. I’ve only wanted to feel comfortable, free from the weight of financial stress. I wanted to drive my truck without hearing a noise underneath and wondering if it was broken—and if it was, how I was going to afford to fix it. I wanted to take my son to his AAU basketball games or bring my daughter to out-of-state gymnastics meets without the sinking feeling of choosing which bill to sacrifice so I could afford a weekend in a hotel and eating out. These aren’t extravagant dreams—they’re the dreams of someone who just wants to live a life where hard work equals security and stability.

And we hear you. I know so many Americans share these same experiences. They’ve been there, or they’re living it right now. You’re not alone. We see your struggles, your sacrifices, and your perseverance, and I’m determined to make sure these stories are no longer the norm.

A personal experience that defines my philosophy toward leadership came during a difficult time in my career. After more than a decade at a company, I was asked to leave my job. They told me I’d have until the end of the month to find something else and that we’d discuss a severance package at that time. Rather than bow out quietly or behave as a lame duck, I chose to spend those weeks educating my colleagues—sharing all the knowledge I had that was critical to the success of the team but not documented anywhere else.

Those months between being told I was leaving and when I finally left were probably the hardest I’ve ever worked. My focus shifted entirely to ensuring the success of my colleagues rather than the success of the company. I was determined to leave behind a stronger, more prepared team that could thrive even after I was gone.

By the end of the month, my colleagues realized how much they relied on the information I provided and petitioned management to let me stay longer. I ended up remaining in my role for several more months, all while focusing on empowering my coworkers so they wouldn’t be left in the lurch. I didn’t see it as my responsibility to “win” against management or try to hold onto my role. I saw it as my responsibility to leave the team—and the work we did together—stronger and better prepared for the future.

I believe this same approach applies to our government today. In this analogy, management is our current leadership—often disconnected, acting in their own self-interest or out of ego, and failing to prioritize the needs of the people. My colleagues represent the American people, who too often are left to fend for themselves when leadership fails. My focus is on helping the American people gain the tools, knowledge, and opportunities they need to thrive, even in a system that feels stacked against them.

I’m not your typical politician, and I don’t want to be. I’m an introvert, not well-spoken, and uncomfortable with public speaking—traits that most would see as flaws in a political leader. But I believe these same traits make me relatable to millions of Americans and uniquely suited to lead a campaign focused on listening, collaboration, and meaningful action.

I’ve always been the quiet observer—the mouse in the corner—watching what’s happening, figuring out solutions to problems, but too shy or reserved to shout out over the noise. But as I see more and more problems go unsolved, I’ve realized it’s time for me to find my voice and take action. I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t pretend to—but I believe I’ve built a solid foundation for solutions that require the input of the American people to fill in the details. That’s exactly why I invite you to participate in furthering this American experiment. Together, we can create solutions that work for everyone.

The Roundtable Revolution reflects this shift: it’s about stepping out of the corner and inviting others to join me at the table, where we can work together to craft practical, meaningful policies that reflect the true spirit of the Constitution.

I know the road ahead is challenging, and my personality isn’t what most expect in a politician. But I believe embracing my flaws as part of who I am will make this campaign stronger. It’s about being authentic, approachable, and open to new ideas—all with the goal of creating a government that works for everyone.