I Got Rejected From Harvard. Then I Won a State Election.
I’d always said I wanted to be president—I still do. My plan was to go to law school, have a family, settle down, and then run for office, but I like to say that God had other plans for me.
My dad is the county commissioner in Pasco County, Florida, where I live, so I’ve been around politics for the majority of my life. I’m sure my parents were an influence [on my political beliefs] when I was younger, but there are a lot of differences in generations of Republicans. Me and my dad disagree on a lot of issues. It’s tough too because Republicans get painted a certain way now, especially with the presidency. At least to me, I feel like our party is about our economy and jobs.
I worked really hard in high school because it was my dream to go to Harvard. I remember when I got the Harvard email. I was at Chili’s, which is my favorite restaurant. I had a friend with me who also really, really wanted to go to Harvard. She opened hers and she started crying, and then I opened mine and I started crying. We didn’t get in and it just felt like disaster. I decided to go to UCF [University of Central Florida] in Orlando. I majored in political science. When I started at school, I applied for a lot [of different political internships and on-campus programs] and kept getting denied. Eventually, I decided I wanted to apply for an internship with Senator Marco Rubio in D.C. because he’s my idol. I got to go up there for two months, where I got to give tours of the Capitol.
Just being in D.C. itself is so motivating. I thought, This is where I’m meant to be. I came back to UCF, and I decided I wanted to get really, really involved in student government. But then I had a political science class with a professor who said, “I really think you should apply for this internship called Legislative Scholars.” I got placed with two different representatives—one of them was Representative [Rene] Plasencia, who we called Coach P because he was also a track coach at a local high school.
From day one, Coach P became a mentor. Eventually, he told me he was moving districts to the one next door because it was much more friendly for Republicans. He said, “Do you know anyone who wants to run for my old seat?” And I said, “You know what? I do.” I think he thought I was being lighthearted, so I came back to him the next day and was like, “Look, I was serious yesterday.” And he was like, “…Oh. Okay, well, let’s do this.” And I filed to run for office in Orlando. He was my first donation on my campaign.
I qualified by petition, which means I had to get 1,000 signatures to get on the ballot. I must’ve knocked on 10,000 doors to get them. I got a phone call [from a campaign consultant] a few months later saying, “Hey, Amber, we think you should go run back home,” because even though I went to school in Orlando, I had a little bit of name recognition built in Pasco County because of my dad. There was a very popular female Democrat incumbent in the seat that I ran for here, but it was a much more Republican county than the Orlando seat, plus Trump was polling really well. So I decided to switch and run back home.
I turned 21 about two weeks before the election, so for most of the campaign, I couldn’t even drink. And I look really young, especially when I’m campaigning and my hair’s up, I have no makeup on, and I’m sweating. That was tough because I’d knock on people’s doors and they’d be like, “How old are you, 13?” And I’d be like, “Uh, no?” But once someone would hear me talk, they’d be like, “Oh, okay, I’m not worried about her being young.” People were encouraged and excited because, obviously, with Trump’s election, they wanted something new and different than what they’re used to seeing, so for them, I fit that bill.
My opponent had raised about $200,000 for the race. I had raised a little bit over $40,000 by calling family, friends, people I know who maybe run a business or maybe are independently wealthy. All the polls had me down about 12 percentage points, which is a pretty big number. Luckily, my dad is the most positive person you’ll ever meet. He said, “We’re not doing this for fun, we’re doing this to win.” Another thing that he would say is, “Run like you’re 20 points behind,” which proved to be so helpful and, I think, true in any race.
Meanwhile, I was still at school in Orlando taking a full-time load of classes and working in student government. Orlando is two hours from my district, so I would literally be taking Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday classes and then I would drive home Thursday night, campaign Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, and drive back. I did that for three months, which made it very tough to be able to pass my classes, but I got, like, a 3.8 that semester.
Finally, election night comes, and it had been a very long, emotional day. All of my opponent’s team—not her, but the people who were helping her—was sitting there next to me as the polls closed saying, “This girl can’t even graduate college. Do you really want her representing you?” There were a few fights that broke out, not physical fights, but they’d argue back and forth with me on things, calling me a “little girl.” I held it together all day, and then as soon as the polls closed, I broke down in tears and I was like, “Now there’s literally nothing I can do. It’s all just waiting from here on out.”
On the way home from the precinct I was at, I got a phone call saying, “Hey, Amber, you’re 800 votes down.” The district is about 150,000 people, so 800 votes down is really not much at all. I knew then if God had gotten me that close to winning that I was going to get there. Every phone call after that was, “Okay, you’re 500 votes down, you’re 200 votes down, Amber! You’re up! You’re up!” It grew large enough to where I won without a recount.
I don’t think anything will ever top that night. I was crying the entire time because, what the heck, I just became the youngest person to ever be elected to the Florida House. I got a phone call from the governor congratulating me, and then a few minutes later, I got a call from who I thought was Marco Rubio’s staff director but it was actually Marco himself. I think he said he’s proud of me, but I was too starstruck to remember. My sister took a Snapchat of me after we hung up: I was on the ground uncontrollably sobbing, I was so happy.
Since being elected, I really haven’t had a college life. I finished up my final semester during the first week of June, which was really tough because I was trying to write papers while I was trying to write my bills, so this past spring semester, I went [to school] only part-time and I took online classes while I was in Tallahassee. A lot of my friends are turning 21, and at UCF, you go to the local college bar and you do all these dares and you have a little party to celebrate. I haven’t really been able to go to any of my friends’ birthdays because I really can’t be seen at one of those bars, but honestly, I really don’t like that scene anyway.
I can’t just, like, post a selfie anymore, which is super annoying. When I first got elected, I had a personal Instagram, then I had a private one, then I also had a campaign one. But I realized really there’s no private anymore anyway. I was like, “Well, I have 100 followers on my campaign one and 1,000 on my personal one. So I should probably just make my personal one my representative one and delete the other one.” I try and post some things, but I can’t just post a picture of me and my friends having a drink. I posted a picture of me hiking this summer.
I’m not really sure what the exact next step is—it would definitely take some stress off my mind if I knew. But the natural next step for most people would be the state senate, so maybe that’s where I go? For now, I’m focused on getting reelected here and then I’ll think about that. I haven’t abandoned my dream of being president one day. But less of a goal might be governor.
Sometimes I’m like, How is this my life? How the heck did I get here? I’ve definitely come to realize how [our decisions] impact so many people. When you’re making a decision on a vote, it’s never just good and bad—there’s good in everything and bad in everything, so it’s tough to try and make a decision, especially in your first year.
No matter where you are in your life, how old you are, or what your gender is, people are going to tell you that you can’t do something for some reason. If you listen to them, they’re going to be right. In a time right now that’s so filled with political turmoil, it can be very discouraging. But if you let it discourage you, then there won’t be the right people to make decisions to make change. If you have an issue with something and you feel compelled to run, make sure you get your voice heard.
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