My first role model in life was my mother. My mother was a shockingly flawed woman. She drank too much, smoked too much, and, as a youth, had done far too many drugs. Still, even with all her myriad of faults, my mother was one of the strongest women I've ever had the privilege of meeting. She raised myself and my older brother basically single handed. Sure, she was married to my dad when I was born, but he left very shortly after. She remarried, but her second husband, while providing financial support, was an alcoholic and was never truly available on an emotional or psychological level to assist in raising us. Yet, she was always there for us.

Mom was always the cool mom. The one that all the other kids wished they had, which was both a blessing and a curse. However, the most important thing that my mother was able to give me was teaching me the value of respect for others and their rights. Even though my mother was a very loyal member of the Republican Party, she taught me from as early as I can remember that a woman had the right to make her own choices when it came to reproduction and that every person, be they gay, straight, bisexual, or transgendered, has the right to love whoever the hell they want. It is these progressive ideals that my mother taught me that earns her a place among my all-time heroes. When you couple them with the fact that she taught me that women, even when flawed, could hold their own with men on any playing field, it isn't too hard to see why I fight like I do for the rights of all people to be treated as equal every single day.

I wish that I could sit down with my mother and tell her how profoundly she has shaped my life, and what I plan to make my life's work, but she passed away seven years ago from a heart condition. She had been sick for 8 years, by then, and had lost a lot of the fire for life that had been her trademark all through my childhood. However, one of the things that I most clearly remember about her final few months took place in a cardiac intensive care unit the night before she had a life extending surgery performed to place a pacemaker in her chest. The doctor had told us that there was a less than 1 in 4 chance that she would survive the surgery, so we should say our goodbyes. I remember sitting in my mom's room, looking at the woman who had taught me so much about equality, respect, and, not insignificantly, enjoying life, as she held my hands and labored to breath. That night she said something that will stick with me forever. My mother told me that she could have never hoped for more in a son than she got in me. I knew in my heart that she was wrong. I was not anywhere near the man I wanted to be, nor the man she deserved. However, I took that statement as a challenge.

So, if you ever wonder why I champion so-called "lost causes", such as the idea that every single human being deserves affordable access to healthcare, and open myself up to the personal attacks that are often laid at the defenders of these causes, I can give you a very simple explanation. I'm trying, with everything I've got, to be the child my mother deserved, the friend my friends deserve, and the person my community deserves. I'm nowhere near there yet, but I can promise that I won't stop using my entire life to accomplish that goal.