“Where Tradition Meets Unexpected Hands”

This weekend

, I visited the coolest little food and refreshment stop while traveling to support someone working hard to grow his small business. It was an honor to make the three-hour drive just to hear his story—his “why.” He’s the kind of American who pours himself into uplifting his local community while also trying to build something of his own. That’s the spirit I admire.

What I do is listen—truly listen—with the intent to understand and help. I started an organization to support every American who rides, and even those who don’t. It’s a privilege to serve in that way.

He recommended I check out this roadside spot with “the best fried chicken,” and when someone says that, you go. The man I’m supporting is Black—and without leaning into stereotypes, I’ll admit I’ve learned to trust the culinary wisdom of the Black community, especially when it comes to Southern food.

So I walked in expecting a certain scene—and instead, I was greeted by two middle-aged Indian men who now own the place. They purchased it eight years ago from an older woman who had been running it since 2010. But what stood out the most? They didn’t just buy the business—they built a relationship with her first. They talked with her, listened to her story, and earned her respect before taking over. They promised to keep her exact recipe, and they’ve honored that promise ever since.

That simple, respectful continuity moved me. My own assumptions were challenged. I didn’t expect to see two Indian men serving Southern fried chicken—but that’s exactly the point. We all carry biases. We all form expectations based on what we’ve seen. But what matters is what we do when those expectations are broken.

Talking with them, hearing how much they respected the previous owner and her legacy—it was beautiful. This wasn’t just about food. It was about culture, continuity, and shared values. They didn’t just inherit a business; they chose to carry forward a tradition, exactly as it was passed down, with pride and humility.

Stigmas can blind us—all of us. That’s why this moment matters. Real conversations begin when we allow ourselves to be surprised, humbled, and open. We should never judge a book by its cover. People of every ethnicity can honor one another, uplift one another, and preserve each other’s legacies—not out of obligation, but out of genuine respect.

This is the America I want to live in. One where mutual respect triumphs over stereotypes. Where our differences don’t divide us—they enrich us. Where heritage is honored, no matter who carries it forward. This is America.