I was only a toddler when my grandfather lovingly, yet sternly, instructed me to stand proud, face the stars and stripes, and place my right hand over my heart as our Nation’s anthem resounded. Each beat celebrated not only our freedom but also the battles fought and sacrifices made that formed the United States of America. My tiny hand covering my chest could feel the steady rhythm of my heart in sync with the words declaring America to be the “the land of the free and the home of the brave.” Today, I feel the same love for America, but I also believe patriotism can also be found in something quieter within my heart, something deeply humane. Patriotism is building a nation where every person is valued, where every voice is heard, and where every child, regardless of how they were born, has a place to belong.

A heartbeat-like rhythm echoed around me as I stitched together my sewing project at age seven. Much like Betsy Ross, I wove small pieces of fabric together, creating representation for a group who so desperately needed it. My masterpiece was a rag doll that looked just like me, long brown braids, big brown eyes, and small stitches between the doll’s nose and lip: just like the scar on my own face. I had never seen a doll on a shelf that had a scar, and my heart yearned for something that represented me. I was born with a facial difference, a cleft lip and palate, and it has shaped both how I see the world and how I serve it–with my heart. My sewing machine pulsed in that same steady rhythm as I began sewing customizable surgery companion dolls for other children undergoing medical procedures: dolls with stitches on their chests from heart surgeries, scars that cancer treatments left behind, limb differences, and “perfectly imperfect” smiles like mine. I have watched children hold their dolls tightly to their chests before surgery, their faces relaxed with a sense of recognition and comfort. Through my advocacy work and my sewing endeavors, I strive to create what I once needed: a world where kids do not feel alone in their differences, where they see themselves as worthy, strong, and fully American. If we want a better nation, it begins with how we care for its youngest members, acknowledging the fear and insecurity that a scar can create, then replacing them with hope and courage, the dolls creating a tangible representation of their journey and the hopes in their hearts.

As I grew older, I realized that my voice had power. With a heart full of ambition and resolve, I climbed the white, marble steps of our Nation's Capitol just weeks ago to share my truth and lobby for the change that my heart desires for this country. I sat across from our nation’s lawmakers, my pulse pounding, and spoke about children born with cleft conditions and the importance of access to medical care and support services.

As I spoke, my voice started to waver, but I kept going, fueled by the belief that stories like mine deserved to be heard. I urged lawmakers to join my heart’s desire, gaining their vote in passing the ELSA Act (Enduring Lasting Smiles Act) that would guarantee healthcare for children born with congenital anomalies. At that moment, I understood that democracy depends on the courage of citizens to speak up. My patriotic heart beats for a better future for those who will follow in my steps.

Every time I share my experience, I see hearts touched, empathy growing. I’ve seen parents gain understanding, medical professionals gain perspective, and children gain confidence. Those moments remind me that patriotism lives in the hearts of those who choose kindness over judgment and inclusion over indifference. Supporting individuals with congenital abnormalities is a way to honor the promise of America, the idea that everyone deserves the same opportunities and the same chance to contribute. When we make space for all abilities, appearances, and backgrounds, we embody the democratic ideals that our nation was built upon.

Patriotism, then, is not just a feeling; it’s a responsibility. It’s a daily commitment to ensuring that the freedoms and values we cherish in our American hearts reach everyone. For me, that means using my voice, my time, and my creativity to help others with differences and scars find their own strength because when they succeed, when they feel seen and supported, our country’s heartbeat grows stronger too.

When I think back to my grandfather placing my hand over my heart, I am grateful for the love and reverence of America he instilled. And through my own acts, first as a child and now as an individual months away from gaining the rights and responsibilities of every American, I have learned that patriotism is honoring other Americans as they are: scars, imperfections, disabilities, and differences. It is speaking what’s in your heart, even when your voice shakes. It is building a world where every child can see themselves in the fabric of our country. True patriotism is measured by the actions, big and small, that will shape future generations and lives, creating a strong heartbeat that will continue for those who love America.