Whoa, man – a woman can run for office, too
by Doni Greenberg

Kelly Brewer recently posted an interesting blog about Shasta County politics in which she asked, “Where are the women?”

Actually, she was even more emphatic than that: “WHERE ARE THE WOMEN?”

Kelly then listed a sample of Shasta County women renowned for getting things done around here (I add her name to that list), and asked, “What keeps us from running for office?”

Kelly’s blog ended with a conversation she heard with her own ears. She said maybe it was a clue to the local political atmosphere. 

“He: So are you going to help me with my campaign? Love to have you on board.

She: Oh, sorry, can’t. Actually, I’m thinking about running myself.

He: You’d be good. … Say, why don’t you wait a couple of years and run for Mary Stegall’s seat? She won’t run again.

She: Hm.

He: That’s what I told Stacy Bertagna.

She: Hm.

He: I know! You could run for treasurer.”

That might be funny, if it weren’t so pathetically true.  

Why is it that some people, like the clueless guy in the above conversation, are under the mistaken impression that one woman on a city council seat is plenty?  

Why is it that even in the United States in 2008, a female political majority is such a rarity that when it happened last year in Boulder, Colorado’s city council race, it was huge news? (Women held five of the nine seats.)    

Why is it that women, who make up more than half of our nation’s voters, are still a political minority?

Gender leadership inequality is not just a United States’ problem, as reported in a recent Reuters story that predicted it could take another 40 years before we see political parity.

Back to Kelly’s question. What keeps women from running for office?

I don’t know about us, but I know about me. I know that all my life I’ve complained about the lack of female representation in politics.

I know I would love to attend a city council meeting and not hear councilmen joke about neckties and golf games while the lone councilwoman sits there silent.

I know I would love to see a strong woman replace our district’s weak congressman who has served 11 terms without doing one significant thing.

I know I yearn for smart women to run for office, but I can’t blame them when they don’t. After all, where are their role models?

This potential role model recoils at the thought of running for any office, although I think I’d do a decent job if I were elected.  

Running for office doesn’t appeal to me for many reasons.

For one thing, I just left 10 years in the public eye and it’s nice to have my life back. I don’t miss the nasty grams. I don’t miss being told to get back in the kitchen and bake cupcakes. I don’t miss being the subject of a special kind of hateful, sexist rhetoric that seems reserved for women. 

Running for office doesn’t appeal to me because I do not relish the incredible scrutiny and invasion of privacy that comes with public office.  

It doesn’t appeal to me because I have a low tolerance for the b.s. and glad-handing and back-slapping that politics brings. I’m no good at it.     

It doesn’t appeal to me because even if I did take temporary leave of my senses and run for office; if I lost, I would be sick about the boatload of money wasted on a failed campaign (Which reminds me, if my campaign accepted financial contributions, and I won, I don’t care what anyone says, the gift of money comes with strings attached.)

It doesn’t appeal to me because at the moment, I believe I’m doing more good on this Web site than I would in elected office.

For the record, I wouldn’t vote for someone just because she was a woman.

But it would be nice to have the choice. 

Long before 2050.