I'm a proud gun-owning Republican because of my feminist beliefs. And I think Bernie Sanders is dangerous

I’m a Texas native, born and raised in Dallas. However, my parents are Nigerian immigrants, so I didn’t have the stereotypical Texan upbringing you’re probably imagining.

When I was five years old, my dad went to prison for a drug trafficking crime. In an era where mandatory minimums were king, he was sentenced to 20 years in prison. He would eventually get out in 18 for good behavior.

Most of my early life was spent with three younger siblings, a single immigrant mother, grandparents that lived with us, and a deep, dark secret. It was shameful to talk about my dad with Americans, much less the Nigerian community. Because of that, my mother grew more and more isolated from the Iarge Igbo community in Dallas we had once been close to. For me, friends became much more vital, much more accepting and much more familiar than family.

I developed a strong sense of community. And that community didn’t have to look, act or talk like me to help me feel like I belonged. In high school, my close circle of friends spread the gamut of Asian countries: Filipino, Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Cambodian, Vietnamese, Indian, Pakistani. Because my mother is a registered nurse, she was able to command an income that enabled us to stay in the middle-class area that my dad moved us into prior to imprisonment. Because of her stable position, we didn’t have to suffer the instability of moving from place to place — a fate that many families in a similar situation to us were often subjected to.