Monday was a bizarre day. When I woke up, it was raining in Southern California. Sure, that’s bizarre in and of itself, but I’m just getting started.
I planned to spend my Monday with College Republicans from across the state canvassing in the 39th district of California for Cong. Ed Royce’s re-election campaign. Because some of the individuals had far commutes, and canvassing in the rain wasn’t ideal, the College Republicans and the Royce campaign decided to push back our volunteering day to later in the month.
Then, only hours later, Cong. Royce shocked his constituents and the nation by announcing he will not seek re-election to the House but will be retiring after 25 years of civil service in the House, and 10 years before that in California’s State Senate.
Of course, everyone immediately asked 1000 frantic questions. Who will replace Royce? Whom will the GOP run? How does the presidential election of 2016 effect the district? Whom will Royce endorse? How does this affect Foreign Affairs? How does this affect the Republican majority in the House after 2018?
All are important questions, but I would be remiss if I did not stop and reflect on the honorable career of one of my heroes, my congressman, Ed Royce.
I met Rep. Royce when I was 15 years old in the back of a little campaign office working for Ling Ling Chang’s campaign for State Assembly. I was connected by then-State Senate Minority Leader Bob Huff because I was doing some intern work for them at the time, and his office connected me with Assemblywoman Ling Ling Chang’s campaign so I could volunteer. Ed Royce had endorsed Ling Ling against primary challenger Phillip Chen, and came to the simple, slightly scattered, Brea office to address local media and take a few obligatory photos with State Senator Huff, candidate Chang, and the campaign staff.
Or so I thought.
Instead of busily running off, Cong. Royce stayed in a back office talking to me and two other high school volunteers after we took photos. When he inquired, I told the congressman it was my first time volunteering at a political campaign. “Well, I heard you want to be in politics when you grow up. What do you think?”
I looked down for a second, knowing the congressman would perceive what I was about to say as naive. “It’s not nearly as glamorous as I would have thought. I think I’ve had this mustard stain on my campaign shirt for about a week. I’ve been on a team that has made over 35,000 phone calls in a week. But I’ve learned this is exactly what it takes.”
He chuckled. Royce has a reputation for tirelessly campaigning. For over three decades, he’s been incredibly effective on the trail because he has maintained his conservative principles as one of the most hardworking policy wonks, while genuinely listening to his constituents, even if they’re too young to vote.
“I heard you’re good on the phones, too,” he said. I replied, “Yeah, I’ve always had a knack for talking.” We both smiled, and he gave all of us his business card. “Once you’re all ready to do more political work, or if my office can do anything for you, give me a call.”
I swear I kept his business card in my wallet until it faded into illegibility.
Of course, high school picked up when I was an upperclassman. My classes became more rigorous, the hunt for a college became much more serious, sports became more competitive, and I crammed as many extracurriculars into my schedule as possible to meet the demands of college admissions. When I had the opportunity, I would attend Royce events with my family and friends, and help in any capacity I could.
Any face-time I had with the congressman, I had a difficult time not bombarding him with questions about foreign affairs and the battle over the Iran Deal. He would ask with genuine interest about my college hunt and what I intended to major in. It was still political science.
“Have you looked into business school or economics?” Royce asked. I expressed reservations about those routes because I was worried that would limit my political knowledge and put me behind the curve. He then told me his story, how he went to CSUF passionate about politics, but decided to major in business. By focusing on business, he strengthened his conservative values and equipped himself with extensive knowledge about financial responsibility, how employment and job creation is the ultimate way to change someone’s life, and the leadership skills that could enable him to thrive in the political realm later on.
I heeded Cong. Royce’s advice. I now major in political economy, studying how the United States can maximize our freedoms while maintaining our global influence.
I spent time looking into various programs of the universities I was accepted to, and I narrowed it down to two universities: UC Berkeley and George Washington University. The decision was nearly impossible. I’ve never wanted two things at once so badly. With 48 hours until my decision needed to be made, I committed to UC Berkeley with major reservations. Was I meant to be in D.C.? Was this the right decision? I couldn’t bring myself to sleep that night. Those questions and thousands of hypothetical scenarios of college gone awry pounded through my mind all night long.
The next morning I dragged myself into my AP Biology class and plopped into my chair. My biology teacher came up to me and said, “I didn’t think you were one to have senior-itis like this, Bradley.”
I was in the middle of explaining the dilemmas with my decision when my phone rang. “This number calls me every day and it is always the wrong number.” I picked up the phone, expecting to instantly hang up. “Bradley? This is Ed speaking.” “Ed who?” “Ed Royce, your congressman.”
What the actual bleep, I thought.
With frantic, poorly-executed hand signals, I told my teacher I had to step out. Once outside, I asked the congressman how I could help him, which felt even more awkward asking him over the phone than it sounds. “Well, I heard you’re in the middle of a tough choice between Berkeley and George Washington. I just wanted to tell you that I strongly encourage you to go to Berkeley. It’s far and away the best public university in the world.”
That was the first time I said, “I made my decision yesterday, and committed to Berkeley,” with a smile.
“That’s excellent to hear! In that case, I have to tell you about the UCDC program! It offers great intern opportunities for students, and I have several Cal grads who have worked on my staff. Whenever you’re coming, just let me know! I’d love to have you!”
That fall, I attended the University of California Berkeley, and began the most challenging, but most rewarding journey of my life: being a voice for conservative students on the most liberal campus in the midst of hatred, violence, and insanity. Without the confidence Royce gave me in my decision to go to UC Berkeley, I would lack the confidence to stand out and make my opinions known through leading the Berkeley College Republicans, speaking at events or on podcasts, and writing for various outlets. In fact, it is arguable if I would even have these opportunities without Berkeley and Ed Royce’s advice. After all, I got my start with The Daily Wire reporting on the obstructionist tactics of the Berkeley administration when hosting the Ben Shapiro event.
I had the privilege to intern at Royce’s district office in California’s 39th district over the summer. At the end of the summer, Cong. Royce hosts a lunch with all of his interns. We went around the table and introduced ourselves to all the interns we didn’t know, and why we decided to intern for Cong. Royce’s office. I was finally able to tell the story about how one man’s simple, genuine, investments in my life empowered me to take the opportunities Berkeley presented and run with them, while sticking to my principles in the process. I hope I can make one of my heroes proud by producing results we can both rejoice in.
In hearing the news of his retirement, I could only think of Washington’s farewell address. I’ve altered its text slightly, and I wish to send those sentiments to my friend, Ed Royce, and his wife Marie:
After 35 years of your life, dedicated to our nations service with an upright zeal, I hope you anticipate with pleasing expectation that retreat, in which you promise yourself to realize the sweet enjoyment of partaking, in the midst of our fellow-citizens, the benign influence of good laws under a free government, the ever-favorite object of our hearts.
. . . and maybe some See’s Candy, too.
Thank you, Congressman Royce.
(Thank you so much to The Daily Wire in allowing me to thank Ed Royce publicly.)