The 100 Years Club Installment #86: The Girl on the Hill

Getting political on social media can be a tactical error and brand killer.

I’ve resisted it and advised clients against it since I started using Facebook in 2005.

Sure, I’ve LIKED other people’s posts and even added a strategic emoji now and then. But I don’t publish politically-related content.

One of my podcast guests recently used the “T-word.” We weren’t discussing candidates—we were talking about divorce and a former leader’s pre-nup. We were immediately trolled by an angry digital mob. (I did, however, get 3K views in less than an hour.)

But this article doesn’t really count as political content, because it’s about my career journey and future plans.

I was inspired to write this after seeing the Broadway show Suffs and watching the DNC.

In high school, I aspired to be a government leader.

I ran for student government (and lost), advised the school administration on policies, registered voters on Manhattan streets, and interned in a Congressman’s district office in Queens. I also gave an interview to a teen magazine, saying I wanted to be the Mayor of New York one day.

But then something happened…

Let’s travel in the way back machine to 1976.

Yup, that’s me. I was the solo girl on the “Hill” (Capitol Hill, that is.)

That year, guess how many women were in the Senate? ZERO. And only 19 women were in the House of Representatives (compared to 125 today). Source

I worked as a summer volunteer for a Congressman in D.C. and discovered that all the other people (guys) got paid for their internships.

I spoke up, but I was shut down.

After another stint in government at the Treasury Department, I became totally disgusted and disillusioned and wound up in the private sector after graduating college.

Over the years, I’ve had Board seats and was even the President of my local Chamber and Homeowners Association, but my political dreams were pretty much dead.

But now, let’s teleport ourselves to Disney World in 2024.

I tried to explain to my eight-year-old granddaughter why all of the robots in the Hall of Presidents are “boys.” Women comprise about 51% of the U.S. population.

I wondered whether I bailed too early and should have hung in longer and spoken up louder during my D.C. years.

I’m not too late.

In fact, Vance’s comments about how my role as a postmenopausal woman should be mostly attending to my grandkids stirred something up in me that I hadn’t felt in a while.

Of course, I love my grandkids. In fact, I’m traveling six hours this week to spend a week with them. But what kind of grandmother would I be if I didn’t teach that generation about standing up for themselves and breaking barriers? Attending to my grandkids certainly includes teaching them about the history of women in government.

• How do I tell my granddaughters that they may only earn 84 cents for every dollar men earn?
• Should my grandkids be shamed if they choose not to have their own kids?
• And why is calling people names not OK in school, but it’s OK among adults on TV?

When I return to Arizona, I’ll find a way to volunteer—or perhaps even get a paid gig—in this year’s campaign.

My motivations are a bit different than they were at 17. I no longer care if candy is served in the high school cafeteria. Or if the old World’s Fair site becomes part of the national park system. I’m not even really sure I cared about those issues back then.

But I still want this world to be a more peaceful and just place for ALL, especially women (including those of us 60+).

And, as someone who remembers what the world looked like when we had limited rights, I feel I have even more of an obligation to compel younger women to care.

Now, I will get off my digital soapbox.

I’m no longer on the Hill, but I believe we still can climb to the top.

Just vote (please)!

And we don’t have to agree…just please be civil!