Political arena changes for women, but it’s slow

It was the first Joplin Area Chamber of Commerce meeting of 1988, and Marilyn Ruestman was the first chairwoman in the history of the organization. As she walked into the meeting, she thought she would look closer to the traditional appearance of the position if she pulled her hair in a tight bun and dressed in a pinstripe suit.

A man was already speaking at the podium. She patiently waited her turn to speak as all chairman before her had done. The room was filled with about 100 men and women business professionals. Ruestman waited for an hour.

Her turn never came.

She made no scene. She exchanged no angry words. Instead, she politely went to the executive director after the meeting and asked to speak with him. She suggested she was capable of running the next meeting and that she would be at the podium for the coming year. Her suggestion was accepted without dispute.

Eighteen years later, what has changed for Missouri women in politics? According to Missouri State Auditor Claire McCaskill, a woman who has achieved many firsts for her gender, there remains challenges, but there are fewer obstacles.

When she was starting out in the early 1980s, she had a hard time being taken seriously. “I was everything you weren’t supposed be,” McCaskill said. “I was a very young woman. I was single. I rented, I didn’t own. I didn’t even own a pet.”

While on the campaign trail, McCaskill knocked on doors and talked extensively about her felony trial work. Mentioning her trial work had the tendency to make people take her more seriously.

“When they first glanced at me, they just saw a young woman,” McCaskill said. “I wanted them to see someone of substance.”

Her efforts proved successful. McCaskill was the first woman elected as Jackson County prosecutor, the first woman president of the Missouri Association of Prosecuting Attorneys and the first woman to give birth as a state lawmaker.

Today, she holds a central presence. Reporters, assistants and other colleagues bustle around, asking her questions or providing information. Her fiery voice is taken seriously, so seriously her office assistants joke that “15 minutes behind schedule is our schedule,” since McCaskill’s time is in such demand.

However, while women such as Ruestman and McCaskill accomplished many firsts, the next generation of female politicians will still encounter challenges. The women in the Capitol hallways fill only 41 out of 197 seats in the House and Senate.

Their numbers are not increasing. The Center for American Women and Politics reports the number of female legislators peaked in 2001 with 47 members. Still, in 1979 there were only 17 female members.

Among this female minority, Rep. Beth Low, D-Kansas City, at 28, is the youngest female representative. Her stylish hair and slim silver nose ring stand out among the black suits on the House chamber floor.

Like many female politicians, Low was asked to run for office; otherwise, she would not have considered becoming a politician. Low said men often are more willing to run or tend to put themselves up without others’ initial support.

“For me, it would feel arrogant to ask people for money without other people first asking me to run,” she said.

When she was initially approached with the notion of running, Low thought the idea was ridiculous. Her colleagues said to at least think about it and not say no right away. Low agreed. She went home and made a chart with reasons to run and reasons not to run. After careful contemplation, she realized it was a unique opportunity.

“All the reasons to not run were about fear,” she said. “I decided I didn’t want to lead my life in fear, so I took a gamble and decided to run.”

Low prevailed in the election. However, being a young woman in politics has not always been a winning situation. Once a male legislator asked her, “Do you match your underwear and bra to your shoes and stockings?” Low smiled and laughed as if he couldn’t be serious.

Dating back to her first Civil Rights protest in Little Rock at 8 or 9 years old, she has been an advocate for change her whole life. She said she believes in a larger purpose than getting angry about the sexism she encounters.

“A smart advocate doesn’t get wrapped up in fights that ultimately don’t matter,” she said. “They chose their battles.”

“If I get him to vote on my legislation, what’s the more important victory?” Low asked with her hands positioned like a scale weighing her options.

Campaign manager Linda Haus said another battle female candidates fight is getting the public to see them not as one issue people, that being women’s issues.

As an example, she tells of knocking on doors while campaigning for Rep. Judy Baker, D-Columbia. She asked a man, “Are you concerned about the budget?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Well, Judy teaches economics at Columbia College and has an extensive background in the field.”

“Really?” he responded surprised. “It sounds like she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

Haus said that people, especially men, do not think of a women having knowledge in economics.

“It’s like a light goes off in their head,” she said. “It makes a big difference.”

Additionally, during the campaign Baker herself encountered what she refers to as “some interesting questions.”

Men and women asked: “How can you leave your children to do this?”

Baker has two daughters and one son. “They want to put a guilt trip on you for having a career and having children at home,” Baker said sitting behind her desk with a 6-inch stack of papers to her left. She considers herself to be a balanced person and does put her children first. At the same time, she wants to set an example for her daughters.

“I do not want to send the mixed message to my daughters to get the best possible education you can get and reach your full potential in anything you want, but then say it was all to just stay at home some day and raise other children,” Baker said. “I want them to be able to make the choices that make them most comfortable. My career is that message to them.”

This message is what McCaskill believes will naturally attract more women to politics as more female role models emerge.

McCaskill’s mother was the first female City Council member in Columbia. At that time, McCaskill said it was unusual for a woman to run for mayor or for an executive job.

“Now you see women running for all offices regardless of where they are in terms of local, state or national,” McCaskill said.

Nationally, more women are being attracted to state politics. According to the Center for American Women and Politics, this year 1,686 of the 7,382 state legislators in the United States are women. In 1971, only 344 women served in state legislatures.

Gilda Morales, project manager of information services for the Center for American Women in Politics, said that research shows that the media are often responsible for portraying female politicians in a negative or positive way. Morales noted how Elizabeth Dole received differing treatment when she ran for president than her male counterparts did.

“I don’t think we see as much (sexism) as people think is out there,” Morales said. “It’s more what the media portrays.”

Recently, when Baker was on the House chamber floor, some legislators were walking around and talking amongst themselves. It was loud. A man’s deep voice from the speaker of the house’s microphone blended like a bingo announcer into Baker’s head because it was the only sound she had ever heard coming from the dais.

Suddenly, Baker’s ears perked up. A woman’s voice came from the podium.

“It was shocking to me,” Baker said. “It is the first time I can remember in my time here, hearing a woman’s voice.”

It was the voice of Ruestman, who was elected representative in 2002 and re-elected in 2004 and is now Majority Caucus Secretary. The speaker asked her to step in for him. Ruestman, the same woman not expected to take the podium at her own meeting 18 years ago, remembers the speaker’s request as one of her proudest moments.