When I was younger, I suffered from serious phone call anxiety. If I wasn’t talking with friends or family, there was nothing you could do to get me to dial a stranger. I wasn’t able to order pizza, talk to teachers or schedule appointments, and on the rare occasions that I was able to dial the number, I would close the phone and not do it again. This lasted through my sophomore year of high school, where even leaving someone a voicemail made me sweat and shake. The amount of pep talking I had to give myself just to talk to a hair salon took longer than the actual call, and afterward, I would think of everything I said that could have been misinterpreted. It was hell.

This fear became so crippling it denied me of opportunities: I couldn’t be a tutor in my high school because I couldn’t bring myself to call parents. I couldn’t get my haircut because my mother refused to make the calls for me (which I don’t hold against her). I was in a constant cycle of inability to perform basic tasks necessary specifically for members of my generation.

I vividly remember the first time I called a stranger — the image of me, sitting on our kitchen bar with a script written in my hand and my legs swinging wildly brands my brain. I rehearsed my speech for almost an hour before I even put the numbers in the keypad; once they were there, I rehearsed for another 40 minutes. I was calling Marsha Blackburn, a congresswoman from a district in my state. She wasn’t my representative, but she was someone close to home.

I was compelled to call her because of her statement that the teaching of the five pillars of Islam amounted to the indoctrination of public school students. The rage I felt upon reading that story and verifying that, yes, indeed, she truly thought that objective learning of a faith other than her own was indoctrination sickened me. Granted, this was before our modern political discourse which would see this view as standard. At the time, it was absolutely preposterous.

I wanted her to know that I was a student. I wanted her to know that it is beyond important to learn about the standards of other faiths in order to better understand our own. I wanted to chastise her for equating the peaceful practices of a peaceful religion with the terror that exists in a sect so far removed from the doctrine it is a disservice to even say it is Islam. I wanted her to know that her bill was not going to be tolerated by me in the slightest and that her removal from reality was distinctly observable.

At least, those were the only ideas I could fit on my hand in smudged gel pen ink.

This phone call was the first time I ever directly engaged in political discourse; it was the first time I ever felt so moved by an issue that I felt it necessary — no, intrinsic to my sanity — to intervene. Whatever that meant.

I made sure to call at off hours so I could leave a message instead of speak to an office administrator and I made my little sister encourage me to push the call button.

I stuttered, was overcome by anger, and got out maybe half of the points I had written on my now totally black hand (I was nervously sweating, what else).

The pride and accomplishment I felt as a result of engaging with an elected official in even that removed capacity filled me with a tenacity to continue doing it, and calling my representatives became a habit.

I say all this to enumerate one point: Marsha Blackburn, your gross incompetence and backward political views are what inspired me, a once ignorant and mindless kid, to become civilly engaged.

Because of the fire that your stupidity sparked in me, I am studying political science to understand just how we can have people like you exist in a civil society. For the life of me, I cannot understand why you are still in office nor can I stand your audacity to run for senate. You are unfit for office, you have repeatedly lied to your constituents to further political gain, and you do not represent my state.

Marsha Blackburn is a stain upon our society and she absolutely cannot be elevated to a position of more power that the Senate would allow.

If you are Republican in Tennessee, I only ask that you look at her public statements versus her voting record. What has she truly done for you? Has she fought for our economic prosperity? Has she focused on issues that most directly affect Tennesseans, such as healthcare and drug abuse?

You will find that these answers are, without fail, a resounding NO.

If you are a Democrat in Tennessee, get off of your butt and go canvas for James Mackler. He is a decorated veteran who will fight for our state and truly represent the volunteerism that our state embodies.

If you are undecided or independent, think about which candidate has a record of fighting for our country’s ideals. One did it by lying about planned parenthood, the other did so on a battlefield.

The choice is clear, but this political fight will be a hard run for James Mackler. Do him the justice of fully supporting his cause and we might just have a Tennessean in the senate who will bring honor to our state.