Let's talk about the concept

Greetings Bikers,

It’s your loveable humanitarian here, Kathryn Anne.

At the core of Bikers Across The Nation is a powerful concept—something that didn’t exist before and was created from thin air. Because of that, we’ve had to become experimental thinkers, humble leaders, active listeners, and deeply empathetic individuals. We’ve had to be willing to fail forward, and keep going anyway. It’s not easy, but it’s worth every step.

This all began in 2021. I sat down with one of my admins who came from club life, and through that conversation, it blossomed into something bigger. I realized quickly that there wasn’t a unifying human concept among bikers. Every club, every space had its own system—almost like a military structure with its own government and code. It wasn’t just a lifestyle—it was a world. I once asked a biker, “Do you have a human side to all this?” and he simply replied, “No.” Then I asked, “Should I create one?” He said yes—and I did.

We are still building, experimenting, and learning. And we always will be. This is a no-ego space. A place where teacher and student coexist in the same breath. It’s a space built to live in the gray, so we can figure out what works—for everyone.

When I started this, I was mentally and emotionally exhausted. The world was struggling. We were in a pandemic. Leadership was failing us. Even academia had lost its connection to real humanity. It felt like we were all losing touch with one another. But I’ve always been someone who creates from nothing. I don’t recognize limits or social hierarchies. I believe in respect, but only when it's mutual and earned. Whether you're a club president or a stranger on the road, you’re human—and that’s what matters most to me.

And truthfully, if it wasn’t for that one biker who sat down with me and said I should create this—we wouldn’t be here today. His support sparked something bigger than both of us, and I will never forget that moment.

We should celebrate our differences and accomplishments, but no one is above or below another. Even if I don’t get along with someone, they’re still valuable. Boundaries are sometimes necessary, especially when people take advantage of kind hearts—but that doesn’t mean we stop showing empathy or compassion. It is never okay to hurt others. It is never okay to threaten people or ignore direct communication. These are things I saw lacking in our world—and I wanted to change that.

So, I started listening to bikers. Not to respond, but to truly understand. I applied what I knew from community psychology, what I studied at ODU, and I focused on deep, active listening. I’ve asked a lot of strange questions over the years. Even now, four years later, I know some people see me as different. I’m okay with that. I have no ego. I’ll tell you proudly what I’ve accomplished, because I’ve worked hard—but my pride comes from building something from nothing. Even if I don’t finish what I started, I pray someone else continues this mission of humanity, healing, and support. I’m here for every biker who needs someone in their corner.

I’m heading to New York soon. The RV is breaking down left and right, but I’ll duct tape it together if I have to—we will get there. I trust that the Lord has a plan for this. I just have to do my part. My faith has carried me through open and closed doors, and people have come into my life at the right time to keep this dream alive. I pray this mission helps someone—anyone.

The concept is huge, and it had to be broken into pieces to work. How do we support the entire motorcycle culture—clubs, solo riders, organizations—without putting labels on them? We don’t define bikers. We support them. We are the support for the support. We are the flexible thread that weaves between groups, offering an extra hand, building projects, creating awareness, planting seeds, and showing up physically and mentally when needed.

One day, I hope we can fund foundations, help distribute resources, and become a trusted name in the community—like a mix of PR, community outreach, and real advocacy. Whether it’s mental health, rider safety, public perception, city policy, police profiling—we want to be part of the solution. We want to help non-riders see you as people, not patches. To shift the public mindset and start real conversations.

To make this massive idea function, I used what I know best: education. I come from a family of educators, and I learn differently. I likely have autism and definitely have ADHD—but I love learning, and I love sharing knowledge. So I built the structure like an academic system, broken into departments: Education, Social Media, Events, Humanitarian Work, and Business. Every piece of what we do fits under one of these. I want to use social media as a tool—but eventually transition more to our website to have a real home base for everything we do.

I’m transparent. I don’t hide what’s happening behind the scenes, though I do protect the structure while it’s growing. I want this to be real, long-lasting, and strong enough to serve for years to come. One day, I dream of us having a table where everyone can sit together and break bread—maybe even a physical piece of land to do it. I don’t have all the answers yet, but we’re figuring it out. (One of my bikers suggested as we were sitting down together after a nonprofit event)

I’ve heard the concerns about coalitions and organizations trying to define who bikers are. That’s not what we’re about. We will never label anyone. If it’s a humanitarian cause, it goes in the humanitarian department. That’s as far as it goes. There is no hierarchy in who you are. You’re a biker—that’s enough.

I am honored to be building this with you. I pray this mission continues to grow. And if you need me—reach out. If you have ideas—bring them. I will always be open to listening, learning, and getting better.

With love and respect,Kathryn AnneFounder, Bikers Across The Nation

Picture was taken when I was in Crystal River, FL.