Fight Like a Mother

Home > Other > Fight Like a Mother > Page 21
Fight Like a Mother Page 21

by Shannon Watts


  In addition to doing the legwork, volunteers support the candidates who rise through our ranks financially, giving from their own wallets but also leveraging their personal networks to spread awareness and raise funds. And that’s such an important leg up for female candidates with a history of advocacy; it gives them a grassroots strength that more traditional candidates—particularly incumbents, who are much more likely to be already beholden to corporate or lobbying interests—can only dream of.

  Motherhood Is a Political Asset

  We’ve talked a lot about the political constraints for women running for office, as well as the sacrifices and training required to become a candidate, but moms have a real advantage in their races these days. Motherhood has become a potent weapon in modern-day politics, enabling women to convey the authenticity and outsider status many voters are looking for in a post-2016 political climate.

  Motherhood has actually long been a part of politics in the United States. Lydia Sayer Hasbrouck, a mother of two, is thought to have marked the first-ever electoral victory for an American woman when she was elected to the board of education in Middleton, New York, in 1880. Susanna Salter, a mom of nine, became the country’s first woman mayor in 1887 in Argonia, Kansas.

  Flash forward to 1992, when a wave of women were elected to Congress in the wake of the Anita Hill hearings the year before. Patty Murray, from Washington state, campaigned for a US Senate seat as a “mom in tennis shoes” and won the seat when both of her children were younger than sixteen; she still holds the seat in 2018, twenty-six years later. And then in 2008 there was Sarah Palin, the Republican vice-presidential candidate who notoriously cited “lipstick” as the qualifying difference between a hockey mom and a pit bull. A decade later, after Senator Tammy Duckworth became the first senator to give birth while in office, the Senate unanimously voted to allow children younger than one year onto the floor during votes (older children are still prohibited) and to allow female senators to breastfeed during votes. Not surprisingly, Duckworth led the charge on that rule change, proving that the more women who hold office, the more they pave the way for others to join them.

  Moms in office know that being a mother improves their work—from more acutely understanding the needs of children to providing a real-life perspective on policy decisions related to women and families. They also take moral action in a way that other politicians typically haven’t. Which is why more and more candidates are emphasizing their “momness.”

  Asked how she could be a mother and a member of Congress at the same time, Colorado congresswoman Patricia Schroeder said, “I have a brain and a uterus and I use both.” Amber has this to say about what she’s learned about the political power of moms on her own campaign trail: “I know there are people who feel that being a mom is a strike against you, but boy I sure haven’t found that. If anything, it’s a boon.”

  In the past decade, moms running for office have become more daring. Their campaign ads highlight the need for protecting children and for high-quality daycare; they even proudly breastfeed on camera. Moms are taking their babies and young children to campaign events and drawing on stories about them to make emotional calls to action.

  Sometimes, this daring shows up as admitting to ourselves and to the world that we have a bigger mission and we want to skip over the “starter office” and run for a more powerful position. That’s what happened with Lucy McBath, who was initially inspired to run for the Georgia legislature. But then the Parkland shooting happened. “Those children were the same age as Jordan when he was gunned down,” she says. “I kept thinking, ‘Who’s standing up to help? Who’s going to support the kids?’” That moment, more than anything, helped Lucy see “that everything I’ve learned in my work with Moms Demand Action and as a gun violence prevention advocate has prepared me. Now I understand I haven’t just been doing grassroots activism; I’ve been preparing to run and training to lead.” That’s when she decided to run for the US Congress instead. Because as important as it is that we fill offices at every level of government with women who can bring empathy, common sense, and hard work to the job, it’s essential to have them at the top, too.

  Even If You Don’t Want to Run, You Can Still Be an Electoral Force

  Of course, there are many ways to change the face of electoral politics that don’t require you to run for office. For example, many of our volunteers find that the skills they’ve developed and the networks they’ve cultivated in their advocacy work empower them to be effective supporters of other candidates.

  Norri Leder, who spearheaded the Texas signage campaign I talked about in Chapter 4, put her experience with Moms Demand Action to great use in 2018 when she supported Lizzie Fletcher, a gun-sense candidate who ran against Congressman John Culberson, an NRA A-rated incumbent. “I thought Lizzie was such a strong candidate,” Norri says, “and voting John Culberson out had been a dream of mine since Sandy Hook—it was a perfect storm for me.” So she reached out to Lizzie’s campaign and was quickly off and running. Norri put together meet-and-greets for Lizzie at people’s homes and did a ton of social media posting on behalf of the campaign. She also enrolled her fellow Moms Demand Action volunteers to make phone calls and write postcards. And Norri played a key role in educating Lizzie about the intricacies of the gun violence issue and helped her develop her policies on gun reform.

  In the end, Lizzie won by a margin of more than five points—a definitive victory in a state as historically NRA-friendly as Texas. “It’s one of the most gratifying things I’ve done outside of raising my kids,” Norri says. “It’s so emotionally rewarding to feel like I’m having a direct impact on this issue.” Now Norri has another strategy in her arsenal to effect change—one she plans to use again. “I definitely feel like I am going to return to campaign work. I know that if I pick my candidate carefully, I can add my voice and my elbow grease and help push that candidate over the top.”

  Another volunteer—and Texan—who got to feel the rush of how much one person’s voice can influence a campaign is Diana Earl, a gun violence survivor whose twenty-two-year-old son, Dedrick, was shot and killed in late 2016 (and whose story I shared in Chapter 1). By early 2017, Diana had gotten involved with Moms Demand Action; she dove in by testifying at the statehouse in Austin against a bill that would legalize unlicensed carry. “It was empowering to testify because I knew if I wanted to create change, I had to share my story with people who had the power to create change,” Diana says. That empowerment only grew as election season got into full swing over the coming months, inspiring Diana to start following Beto O’Rourke’s campaign to replace Texas senator Ted Cruz. And she did more than just read up on him; Diana threw on her red Moms Demand Action T-shirt and went to so many of O’Rourke’s town hall meetings (up to five in one day!) that he started recognizing her. “Every time I heard his message on gun reform, criminal justice reform, and immigration reform,” Diana says, “I got energized and I knew his was the campaign I wanted to work on.”

  Diana’s experience with Moms Demand Action and with the O’Rourke campaign helped her see how valuable her voice as a gun violence survivor is—a tool she plans to continue to use to help get gun-sense candidates elected in the future. “Campaign work is going to be a focus for me,” she says. “I see that as something I’ll do for the rest of my life.” I’m hoping that one day the campaign Diana chooses to work on will be her own, but until then, I know good candidates will have a powerful ally in her. Every candidate needs a team of smart and passionate people helping them win; and with margins between winning and losing candidates as razor thin as they were in many 2018 races, you can see a clear connection between the work you put in and the final result. Also, getting involved in a campaign is a great way to build your political experience as you ponder a possible future campaign.

  Tools for Women Contemplating a Run for Office

  For anyone reading this chapter and starting to wonder whether holding a political office might be in your future, h
ere are some of the most important strategies for persuading yourself—and others—that you are the perfect person for the job:

  Own your experience. It doesn’t matter if your career doesn’t include a high-powered position in corporate America. Raising kids is, in itself, a full-time job with a lot of responsibility and authority. If you’ve served in any positions where you’ve had to organize people and keep the trains running, you probably already have at least as much experience as your state representative—perhaps more. Some people say running the parent-teacher organization at their kids’ school is the hardest job anyone could have—so own it! “Being on the PTO taught me public speaking, how to organize volunteers, use social media, and raise money,” Amber says—all crucial components of running a campaign and holding an office. Brag about all the ways in which you’ve kept your family running, including experience in your kids’ schools and your community.

  Talk about your unique skill set. Being a mom includes a built-in leadership boot camp. Motherhood turns you into an expert dealmaker, preparing you to simultaneously stand on principle and work with others on compromise. You know how to balance interests that can compete for attention and resources. And you master one of the secret skills of motherhood—the ability to multitask like a mofo. You’re already caring for everyone in your immediate family, and perhaps an older relative, and likely volunteering in some capacity, whether at church or at school; it all counts. “Getting stuff done is getting stuff done, whether it’s in your house or in the statehouse,” says Christy Clark. Which is why she believes, “If you want something done, ask a busy woman to do it.”

  Acknowledge how adept you already are at managing a budget. Many women are intimidated by the thought of raising money and managing the financial end of a campaign; the money side of politics can feel like a bridge too far. But you’re likely discounting how much experience you have managing money—even large sums of money. According to a survey by Allianz Life Insurance Company of North America, more than half of women say they’re the primary decision-makers on financial matters in their households.15 That’s a tough job considering that according to the US Department of Agriculture, it costs $233,610 on average to raise a child to age eighteen.16 As a result, moms know how to track their spending, rein in expenses, and negotiate a good deal.

  Break the mold. Woman candidates are pushing back on how they’re supposed to dress and where they’re supposed to live—all the trappings that have long been associated with politicians that are quickly dissipating (and none too soon). “On the campaign trail, I don’t wear a suit or a jacket because they’re not how I typically dress,” says Christy Clark. Christy also lives in a middle-class house, while her opponent lives in a multi-million-dollar lakefront home. “People say to me, ‘You’re a regular person.’ I say, ‘That’s the point.’” Our ideas of what candidates “should” look like will never change if we don’t put ourselves out there for the country to see.

  Leverage your network. It’s a simple truth that to run for office, you have to know a lot of people. What’s great about being a mom is that your kids force you to know a lot of people, and all different kinds of people—fellow parents, pediatricians, coaches, teachers, and caregivers. “The relationships I’ve made just from being a mom have given me an awesome base of support,” Amber Gustafson says. These people don’t just know who you are, “they know your values and how you work and treat people.” When they hear you’re running, they’re thrilled to know that someone they trust is stepping up, and they become wholehearted supporters.

  Just get started. I hear a lot of women talk about having impostor syndrome—that feeling of comparing yourself to others and pretending you know more than you do—but no politician knows what they’re doing at the beginning. “It was shocking to me to see how quickly you can get up to speed and become an integral part of your state’s party politics or city government,” says Jennifer Lugar. You really can learn as you go; you just have to take the first step, and then the step after that, and the step after that.

  Rethink what it means to be qualified. “The people who are in positions of power benefit from the rest of America thinking that running for and holding office is only available to a select few because it allows them to hold on to the reins of power,” Amber says. “You don’t have to be highly educated, have a law degree or a million dollars to run. You need good communication skills, a thick skin, and no fear of hard work.” Those are basically all the same qualities you need to be a good mom. Which you already are!

  Count on support from your soul sisters. If you decide to run (and are a gun-sense candidate), you can absolutely rely on Moms Demand Action to support you. We’ve done it for numerous politicians all over the country, including Oregon governor Kate Brown, who in 2015 signed a law to close the background check loophole on gun sales made via private and unlicensed gun dealers. “You don’t expect moms to show up,” Governor Brown says, “whether it’s to lobby at the capitol or go knock on doors—it’s easy to think that moms are too busy. But Moms Demand Action volunteers show up in massive numbers, again and again, and they are fierce.” During the run-up to that Oregon law being passed, the NRA and her opponents used every tool in their arsenal to try to block it, including burning dummies of Brown in effigy (“If these extreme groups continue to burn mannequins of me in effigy every time I stand up for the safety of Oregonians, then they’re going to run out of mannequins,” she said at the time). But knowing that she had the support of so many Moms Demand Action volunteers has helped Brown stay strong. “Having the Moms with me, side by side and shoulder to shoulder every step of the way, provides a level of confidence, faith, and trust that it’s going to be okay.”

  Are You Ready to Jump In?

  I was moved when I read a quotation from Jodi Berg, the CEO of Vitamix, who asked the audience at a women’s leadership forum: “How many of you were ready to be a mom before you became a mom? Anyone? And yet you did it—the hardest job in the world. . . . So why worry about a job that’s not nearly as important as being a mom?”

  If you’ve ever had the idea to run for office—no matter how fleeting, or how serious—what will it take to get you to throw your hat in the ring? For many Moms Demand Action volunteers-turned-candidates, it was a specific event that spoke to them as a mother and inspired them to run. Maybe it was when their kids started having active shooter drills at school, or when a bad gun bill passed in their state. Whatever development makes you realize that the only way to improve our lackluster legislative system is for good people to run for political office—and that includes you—don’t push it away. That feeling serves a purpose. It’s calling you forward. You can trust it. We women will have your back.

  11

  Keep Going

  On election night 2016, I wore a white dress to the Javits Center in New York City in anticipation of celebrating our nation’s first woman—and first mother—to be elected president. I was so excited to have been invited; I couldn’t believe I was there as a guest of Hillary Clinton herself! As my plus one, I brought Michele Mueller, an Ohio Moms Demand Action volunteer who had traveled her battleground state tirelessly to campaign for Hillary. (Michele has a knack of being where the action is—she was also present at that new chapter meeting in the Kentucky library with the armed men in attendance, as we saw in Chapter 3.)

  We were on a high as we saw one famous person after the next. Glee star Chris Colfer stood behind us in line to get into the event, and former secretary of Health and Human Services (and now US representative from Florida) Donna Shalala sat down next to us at our table. The actor Melanie Griffith talked to us about the importance of getting moms to organize as we got snacks from the buffet table. The feeling in the room was electric, even though right from the earliest results the vote totals weren’t where we expected them to be. Everyone kept saying, “Don’t worry, she’ll pull it off.” But as the hours went on, the energy downgraded from elation, to concern, to shock. Instead of the glass ceiling
shattering that night, it felt like the sky fell.

  At about 9:30 p.m., I realized that Hillary was going to lose, as did a lot of other people around me. Many started crying. I started shaking the same way I had in my early twenties when my parents told me they were getting divorced; it was as if I were standing outside in freezing weather with no coat. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to keep my composure and that I needed to get out of there. Fast.

  As I walked back to my hotel room, shaking so much I could barely hold on to my phone, I called my husband. “What will we do?” I asked him, not sure whether I meant our family, all women, or the nation collectively. I don’t remember what he said—I’m not sure I had the capacity to listen to reassurances yet. I just knew I needed to get back to the hotel and try to figure out how I was going to respond to the questions I’d get from the media inquiries I knew were coming. And I had no idea how I was going to do that because I was officially losing it.

  When I woke up the next morning after a fitful three hours of sleep and the results were the same—somehow, Hillary Clinton still had lost the election—I began crying and didn’t stop. I cried as I checked out, I cried on the ride to LaGuardia Airport, I cried the whole plane ride to Denver, and I cried during the car ride to my home.

 

‹ Prev