The weekend before my first day at Empower Missouri, I went to a three-year-old’s birthday party. It was one of those heavy, hot July days in the Midwest—the kind where the air feels so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. (My fellow Missourians, you know the kind!)
The highlight of the afternoon? A brightly colored llama piñata swinging from a tree. I found a shady spot and watched as the kids lined up, bat in hand, ready for glory.
The first swing landed with a loud thunk! I instantly knew: this was no easy piñata.
One by one, each child took a turn. No luck. When it was my toddler’s turn, he took a shaky (albeit brave) swing. The bat barely tapped the piñata, but it didn’t matter—he was in it with the rest of them. After a few rounds, the kids began strategizing. Where was the weak spot? What was the best technique? When targeting the shoulder didn’t work, they tried rapid-fire swings. Still nothing. Eventually, they all agreed who their “heavy hitter” was, and when he took a big swing… he broke the bat.
And that’s when it hit me (pun intended): this is what policy work is like.
The kids want the candy. We want policy change. It’s not about a single swing or quick fix. It takes strategy, communication, determination, and above all, the power of a community working toward a common goal.
Eventually, after countless swings, broken bats, and a whole lot of cheering, the kids couldn’t take it anymore. They ditched the bat and tore into the piñata with their bare hands. It was hilarious and wildly effective.
But as satisfying as it was to see the candy finally fly, I also thought: this is where the piñata metaphor ends. Because when it comes to public policy, it’s not about tearing things down in frustration. It’s about building together.
Now, as I take my own shaky (albeit brave) swing in the policy space, I’m looking forward to joining a community of advocates who have been doing this work for a long time. I’ve spent the last five years in the nonprofit world, and before that, I was a teacher working with kids facing tough realities like hunger and housing instability. That work lit a fire in me, fueled by the belief that we can do better. Whether you’re a donor, legislator, advocate, fellow Missourian, or community member, we’re in this together and I’m so glad you’re here. I plan to lead from my seat—and I hope you will, too.
Because just like that piñata, policy doesn’t crack after just one swing.
It takes all of us.