By Adrian Hardy
Recently, I had the powerful and humbling experience of traveling to Washington, D.C. with the United Domestic Workers (UDW) Union to speak out against proposed cuts to Medi-Cal (California’s Medicaid program) and SNAP (known as CalFresh in California). As someone who works with In-Home Supportive Services (IHSS), I know firsthand what these programs mean to families, caregivers, and especially the elderly and disabled who depend on them to live independently at home. Our union sent about 40 of us from across California to the Capitol — caregivers, union reps, and organizers — all determined to make sure our voices were heard before Congress. For me, getting to D.C. from Plumas County was a full-day ordeal, with multiple flights and airport layovers. We arrived late, exhausted but energized by the purpose of our mission. That first night, despite the long travel day, we were invited on a special midnight tour of the Capitol with Representative Juan Vargas. The walking tour started at 10 p.m. and went until nearly 2:30 a.m. It was incredible. We got to see areas most people never get to access — behind-the-scenes corridors, historical artifacts, and even the inside of the Capitol dome. It was a surreal way to begin our trip. The next morning, we had to be up and ready to board the shuttle by 9:30 a.m. for a full-day training session. It lasted eight hours, preparing us to speak effectively to our representatives. The trainers helped us understand how politicians might respond — often sounding supportive, but ultimately falling back on the same line: “something has to be cut somewhere.” It was frustrating to hear, but it also motivated us even more to make a strong case for why our programs should not be on the chopping block. After training, we had a little downtime and visited the Smithsonian American Art Museum. The size of it was overwhelming — four full floors, including presidential portraits, historical figures, and stunning modern art. It was a reminder of the legacy we’re a part of, as everyday people standing up for our communities. The next day, my small group had a 3 p.m.appointment with Representative Kevin Kiley’s office. Before our meeting, we took a walk through the U.S. Botanic Garden. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom — when the wind picked up, it looked like pink snow. Inside, we explored exotic plants: orchids, cacao trees, a pineapple bush, desert cacti, even a room full of carnivorous plants. It was peaceful and beautiful, a perfect moment of calm before stepping back into the intensity of politics. When we arrived at Kiley’s office, there were three of us IHSS caregivers, our lead union rep, and our training coach — a kind and fearless woman who rallies in D.C. nearly every week. We met with Kiley’s personal assistant, who was very friendly and thanked us for the work we do. He even shared a story about his elderly father needing long-term care. But after we each spoke from the heart and asked him to oppose the cuts, his response was the same: something has to be cut somewhere. It was disheartening. We weren’t just numbers or budgets — we were standing there as people with real stories, real lives, and real consequences. Still, I was proud of how we spoke up and how we stood together. After that meeting, we went to the Senate chamber with our gallery passes to watch a live hearing. Sitting in that massive room, looking down from the public balcony, it struck me how far we’d come — not just in miles, but in purpose. We weren’t just watching history; we were part of it. That night, we had dinner at Georgia Brown’s, a well-known restaurant serving traditional Southern food. The meal felt like a celebration — not because we’d won, but because we’d shown up, spoken out, and made ourselves heard. Later, some of us went on a night tour of the Lincoln, Jefferson, and Washington memorials, glowing under the night sky. This trip reminded me of the power we hold when we come together. It wasn’t easy — emotionally or physically — but it was worth every step. These programs we’re fighting for aren’t just policy issues. They’re lifelines. And I’ll keep showing up for them, for my clients, and for all of us who rely on care, dignity, and a voice in the system.
Recently, I had the powerful and humbling experience of traveling to Washington, D.C. with the United Domestic Workers (UDW) Union to speak out against proposed cuts to Medi-Cal (California’s Medicaid program) and SNAP (known as CalFresh in California). As someone who works with In-Home Supportive Services (IHSS), I know firsthand what these programs mean to families, caregivers, and especially the elderly and disabled who depend on them to live independently at home. Our union sent about 40 of us from across California to the Capitol — caregivers, union reps, and organizers — all determined to make sure our voices were heard before Congress. For me, getting to D.C. from Plumas County was a full-day ordeal, with multiple flights and airport layovers. We arrived late, exhausted but energized by the purpose of our mission. That first night, despite the long travel day, we were invited on a special midnight tour of the Capitol with Representative Juan Vargas. The walking tour started at 10 p.m. and went until nearly 2:30 a.m. It was incredible. We got to see areas most people never get to access — behind-the-scenes corridors, historical artifacts, and even the inside of the Capitol dome. It was a surreal way to begin our trip. The next morning, we had to be up and ready to board the shuttle by 9:30 a.m. for a full-day training session. It lasted eight hours, preparing us to speak effectively to our representatives. The trainers helped us understand how politicians might respond — often sounding supportive, but ultimately falling back on the same line: “something has to be cut somewhere.” It was frustrating to hear, but it also motivated us even more to make a strong case for why our programs should not be on the chopping block. After training, we had a little downtime and visited the Smithsonian American Art Museum. The size of it was overwhelming — four full floors, including presidential portraits, historical figures, and stunning modern art. It was a reminder of the legacy we’re a part of, as everyday people standing up for our communities. The next day, my small group had a 3 p.m.appointment with Representative Kevin Kiley’s office. Before our meeting, we took a walk through the U.S. Botanic Garden. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom — when the wind picked up, it looked like pink snow. Inside, we explored exotic plants: orchids, cacao trees, a pineapple bush, desert cacti, even a room full of carnivorous plants. It was peaceful and beautiful, a perfect moment of calm before stepping back into the intensity of politics. When we arrived at Kiley’s office, there were three of us IHSS caregivers, our lead union rep, and our training coach — a kind and fearless woman who rallies in D.C. nearly every week. We met with Kiley’s personal assistant, who was very friendly and thanked us for the work we do. He even shared a story about his elderly father needing long-term care. But after we each spoke from the heart and asked him to oppose the cuts, his response was the same: something has to be cut somewhere. It was disheartening. We weren’t just numbers or budgets — we were standing there as people with real stories, real lives, and real consequences. Still, I was proud of how we spoke up and how we stood together. After that meeting, we went to the Senate chamber with our gallery passes to watch a live hearing. Sitting in that massive room, looking down from the public balcony, it struck me how far we’d come — not just in miles, but in purpose. We weren’t just watching history; we were part of it. That night, we had dinner at Georgia Brown’s, a well-known restaurant serving traditional Southern food. The meal felt like a celebration — not because we’d won, but because we’d shown up, spoken out, and made ourselves heard. Later, some of us went on a night tour of the Lincoln, Jefferson, and Washington memorials, glowing under the night sky. This trip reminded me of the power we hold when we come together. It wasn’t easy — emotionally or physically — but it was worth every step. These programs we’re fighting for aren’t just policy issues. They’re lifelines. And I’ll keep showing up for them, for my clients, and for all of us who rely on care, dignity, and a voice in the system.
First division monument
Smithsonian American art museum
