You are Lance Kendricks. You are the grandson of Sgt. Thomas Kendricks, a World War II veteran. You are the nephew of Vietnam veterans Thomas Kendricks Jr. and Robert Kendricks. Before them, your family’s military history traces to the Civil War. You love this country. Your country. You cherish the soldiers guarding your freedom. Patriotism was ingrained during your childhood. The American flag flew outside your house every Fourth of July. You’re a tight end for the Green Bay Packers. A year ago, you watched San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick sit, then kneel, during “The Star-Spangled Banner.” You supported his protest against racial injustice. You did not join. Never in your life have you sat through the national anthem. “I was one of those people,” Kendricks explains, “who was like, ‘I understand why he’s doing it, but I wouldn’t do it.’ That’s how I felt about it.” Even now, you don’t want to sit. It’s against your ideals, your instincts. But you aren’t only the grandson of Thomas Kendricks. You’re the husband of Danielle Kendricks, a woman proud of her Puerto Rican heritage. Through her, you fell in love with the Caribbean island. It’s in ruins now, leveled after Category 4 Hurricane Maria steamrolled every inch of its 3,515 square miles, leaving a territory home to more United States citizens than Iowa without electricity. Water is in short supply, food scarce. Wind blew away jungle brush, leaving residents with little shade or sun screen. Some of the stranded are your wife’s family. One uncle waited in line 12 hours for gas. You want to make a difference. Maybe, you think, your platform can raise awareness.