“You don’t know what you don’t know. Getting the right info to the right person at the right time can change everything.”
— Sen. Jay Collins
If that quote doesn’t move you, you’re either clinically cynical (which I can appreciate) or an elected official in Tallahassee still bitter that Casey DeSantis gets more done with a smile than they do with a committee chairmanship.
A Modest Bill—and a Predictable Meltdown
It began with a modest proposal: Senate Bill 1144, filed by Senator Danny Burgess, to turn Hope Florida—a community-first, faith-integrated, navigator-based program—into a permanent office in the Executive Office of the Governor. One would think that after helping 30,000 Floridians move off state assistance, lawmakers would rush to institutionalize it.
Instead, some in the legislature reacted as if the bill proposed turning Tallahassee into a Vatican outpost. You’d have thought Casey DeSantis was asking to personally baptize each constituent with the tears of Reagan.
SB 1144 and its companion bills saw delays in early committee hearings. As noted in news coverage by the Miami Herald and Tampa Bay Times, leadership cited a “traffic jam” of bills, but several Republican-led initiatives with less public support moved ahead of SB 1144. This signals a de-prioritization, not for lack of merit, but possibly due to internal power tensions.
Rep. Vicki Lopez (R-Miami) publicly stated:
“From what I know, the very limited that I know about what Hope Florida does, it appears that agencies can do that same work.”
Hilariously as it turned out Vicki Lopez didn’t really know much about Hope Florida at all. As for her claim about other agencies being able to do the same work I’ll hit the relevant points:
This echoes a common legislative bureaucratic reflex—resisting consolidation of influence in the executive branch unless they control the narrative. It’s a tacit turf protection instinct.
Real Concern: Executive Overreach:
The bill proposes housing the Office of Hope Florida under the Executive Office of the Governor, not a traditional department like DCF. For legislators who are sensitive to executive consolidation of power, this triggers unease—especially given the rising star power of Casey DeSantis as the initiative's face.
Of course, none of the critics could quite say what was wrong. So, they resorted to the weapon of cowards and careerists: innuendo.
“There are lobbyists on the board.”
(Yes, welcome to the 21st century. You’d be hard-pressed to find a soup kitchen without a corporate donor logo.)“The 990s aren’t online.”
(Which means they didn’t click twice or file a public records request. Who knew Google had a learning curve?)“Some of the photos are stock images.”
(Yes, because not every struggling single mom wants to be immortalized on a glossy handout, Brenda.)
🐊 Meet the Florida Avengers
While Tallahassee’s mediocre class stewed in political envy, the Florida Avengers were out doing actual work.
Senator Jay Collins—retired Green Beret, combat veteran, and living proof that government cheese doesn’t mean a government mindset—delivered the clearest case yet for the bill:
“Hope Florida isn’t about bureaucracy. It’s about giving people someone who believes in them—someone who shows up.”
And Collins did more than speak. He’s been on the ground, helping expand Hope Florida’s veterans program, as well as a 24/7 hotline for first responders. These aren’t political stunts. These are solutions.
We are watching something rare in American politics: a conservative movement that governs—not just tweets.
Hope Florida Bill, the Vision Behind It, and Why the Critics Are Dead Wrong
The Hope Florida bill (SB 1144) would formally create an Office of Hope Florida under the Governor’s office, institutionalizing a program that already helps tens of thousands navigate their way out of dependency.
What it does:
Assigns Hope Navigators to individuals or families, who build custom
“pathways to prosperity.”
Connects participants with faith-based groups, nonprofits, and private partners, not just government offices.
Focuses on veterans, single parents, the disabled, and those recovering from addiction.
Creates a hub for agencies like DCF, DOE, and DOH to share data and streamline service—not add layers.
What it doesn’t do:
Grow the state payroll.
Create new entitlements.
Preach sermons.
Enrich Casey DeSantis (despite what your cousin in a Facebook comment section insists).
Casey’s Quiet Revolution
Yes, Casey DeSantis launched this. And no, she doesn’t "run" it like a CEO. She created the vision, rallied the private sector, and got churches back in the game of saving lives, not just filling pews.
Critics sneer that she’s a “former TV host.” Well, she’s also the only person in Tallahassee getting anything done without a subpoena or donor kickback.
If that kind of competence threatens the fragile egos in the legislature, perhaps they should reflect on their own job performance rather than on her resume.
She’s not auditioning to be Governor. But let’s be honest—if she did, half the legislature would wet themselves trying to rewrite their last vote.
Why Conservatives Should Champion This
For decades, conservatives have said:
We don’t want big government.
We believe in civil society.
We want government to support, not replace, the family.
Hope Florida is the embodiment of all three.
It doesn’t ask for new taxes. It asks for coordinated compassion. It doesn’t give handouts. It gives people a human being who walks beside them.
🤡The Real Reason for the Resistance
Here’s the inconvenient truth: some legislators just don’t like being upstaged. They see Casey DeSantis’ rising star and Jay Collins’ moral clarity and know they can’t match it—so they sabotage what they can’t control.
They'll claim “fiscal conservatism,” while shoveling subsidies to stadiums.
They’ll demand “transparency,” while holding donor dinners no one’s invited to.
They’ll scream “separation of church and state,” while having no issue with the state funding drag brunches in college dorms.
🛡 Final Word: Pass the Bill
The Hope Florida bill is the rarest thing in politics today: a conservative program that actually works, is loved by the people it serves, and makes government smaller by making communities stronger.
If Florida doesn’t pass this, it’s not because the idea is flawed. It’s because some people in power think their careers matter more than your neighbor’s recovery.
And if Casey DeSantis, Jay Collins, and the rest of the Florida Avengers keep this up?
We just might save the Republic one family at a time
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