Katy for Kansas
July 27, 2026 · Newsletter
A Spirit You Can’t Replace
When I was a kid, music was my happy place. So many nights after dinner, my dad would pull out his acoustic Martin guitar while my mom grabbed her fiddle. I’d join in singing along to country classics like “Poncho & Lefty,” “Hey, Good Lookin’,” and “Deep in the Heart of Texas.” That last one was always my favorite because I got to do the clapping parts. If you know, you know.
Anyway, I still love old country music. When I’m tired of the news and my kids aren’t in the car to reign over the radio controls, I often turn on “Prime Country’ and let the nostalgia take over. I did that last weekend while I was running errands and Alabama’s Forty Hour Week (For a Livin’) came on. I immediately felt like “this is it—these are all the folks our country has taken for granted and brushed aside.”
It made me think about why I’m running and who I’m running to fight for in the halls of Congress. If you didn’t grow up on ’80s and ‘90s country music, here’s the short version…
The song opens with Verse 1:
“There are people in this country who work hard every day
But not for fame or fortune do they strive
But the fruits of their labor
Are worth more than their pay
And it’s time a few of them were recognized”
Alabama goes on to thank autoworkers, steelworkers, “Kansas wheat field farmers,” truck drivers, mechanics, waitresses, firefighters, police officers, mail carriers—people whose names rarely make headlines but whose work keeps the country moving. The song closes with a shout out “For everyone who works behind the scenes—with a spirit you can’t replace with no machine.”
I realize now that this song isn’t really about the work itself. It’s about gratitude. Somewhere along the way, we’ve gotten very good at celebrating wealth, fame, and influence. But we don’t spend nearly enough time celebrating the people who quietly keep our communities running.
Here in Kansas, I see those people every day. It’s the nurse on the picket line in Wichita. The farmer in Rosalia hoping for rain. The firefighter in Sedgwick racing to put out the brush fire before it spreads. The grocery clerk at the Dillons in Andover that I see every Sunday like clockwork. They aren’t asking for a medal. They’re asking to be seen. To be respected. To know that the people making decisions in Washington understand the value of what they do every day.
If we truly respected hard work, our policies would reflect it. A person working 40 hours a week should be able to afford a decent life. A family shouldn’t lose access to healthcare or help putting food on the table because someone picked up extra hours. Farmers shouldn’t be forced to sell the land their families have worked for generations. Workers should have the freedom to organize. And every child—regardless of their zip code—should have access to a public education that prepares them to succeed.
That’s why I’m running for Congress—because America needs more leaders who will fight for the people who actually keep this country going and keep our American spirit alive. The people who punch the clock, harvest our food, care for the elderly, build our houses, fix our power lines, teach our children, and the list goes on. Those are the Americans who have carried this country for generations.
They deserve a leader who will fight for them every single day. That’s the kind of leader we need in this moment. Someone who remembers that the strength of America has never been defined by the people who sit at the top. It has always been measured by the grit and determination of the people who show up, day after day, and do the work that keeps the country moving forward. The people behind the scenes. The people whose names we may never know, but whose contributions we all depend on.
Theirs is the spirit that Alabama sang about all those years ago. And it’s a spirit we cannot afford to lose.