This book is dedicated to all trailblazing women, past, present, and future.
Introduction
My friend Allison Greenday was just a few months out of college when she accepted a position as a legislative aide for Delegate Dan Helmer in the Virginia House of Delegates. This was after she worked as a field organizer for Helmers campaign and helped him win his seat in that legislature. At just twenty-two years old, Allison has already managed to make a change in her community by helping someone get into office who was not there before. And as a legislative aide, she has had even more of an opportunity to create substantial policy changes in Virginia.
I thought Allisons actions and contributions seemed unique for someone her ageafter all, dont you have to be established and rich, or at a minimum age and male, to have any sort of impact on public policy?
Current statistics seem to say yes. Men still make up over three quarters of the House of Representatives76 percent, to be exactand three quarters of the Senate. The average age in the House is 57.6, and the average age in the Senate is a whopping 62.9.
So how can young people, specifically young women, possibly have a voice in a political climate so dominated by older men?
I have been feeling this frustration myself recently, Ill admit. The 2016 election shattered my confidence in our electoral institutions and left me feeling voiceless in a world primarily controlled by men. My love of politics was dying at the hands of a government I felt did not represent me.
Politics wasnt always something that mattered to me. Sure, I grew up with Democratic parents who voted in every election, and when I did a mock election in fifth grade I voted for Obama. But I never really thought of myself as someone who could or should get involved in politics. I always thought one person was too insignificant to make a difference.
But my attitude changed as I got older. In fall 2015, when I was a senior in high school, I took an AP government class. At the time, the 2016 election season was just starting, so there was a lot happening in politics and so much to talk about. Between debates and primaries and crazy Trump tweets, there were always current events to discuss in class. This AP government classand in particular my teacher, who is to this day one of the smartest and most passionate people I knowis really what inspired my love of politics.
The same year, I attended my first political rally. It was for Bernie Sanders, who was running against Hillary Clinton in the Democratic presidential primary. I didnt know a whole lot about Bernie, and I would never have decided on my own to go to a rally, but some friends of mine were going and asked if I wanted to tag along. We left school early so we could get in line and secure a good spot.
While we were waiting, people came over to ask if we wanted to buy buttons or make a donation. Somehow, I was persuaded to sign up for Bernies email list even though I wouldnt turn eighteen until a month after the general election. We were there so early that we were the first people in line, so when they finally let us file in we were right up against the barrier, about five feet from the stage where Bernie would stand.
When Bernie got on stage and started to talk, I was mesmerized. I dont remember exactly what he said that night, but I do remember feeling as though he was talking directly to me. I remember feeling as though I, too, could be in politics someday. I could create change from the ground up. I had a voice and ought to use it.
So in the fall of 2016, when I got to collegefresh out of my government class, my first political rally, and the excitement of the presidential primary season, I decided this was what I wanted to study. I wanted to analyze our political institutions more in-depth and to gain a better understanding of how the system works and doesnt work. I wanted to figure out how to create positive change and how to use my voice to be part of this political movement.
I remember November 8, 2016, like it was yesterday. It was my first semester of college and I was exactly four weeks shy of being eighteen. I felt very confident that Hillary Clinton would win and become our first female president. I went to my classes that morning without a care in the world, and I came home and watched Netflix instead of doing my homework. My roommate and I couldnt wait to watch the results on the tiny little TV I had on my desk. She rolled her desk chair over to my side of the room and we turned on MSNBC, excitedly awaiting the first poll closings.
Then, the election results came in. Every time another state lit up red on the map, I felt more and more ill. By about midnight they had called the election for Trump. We didnt have it in us to stay up and wait for the last few states to tally their votes, so we turned off the TV and went to bed, feeling defeated and quite nearly in tears.
When I woke up the next morning, for a split second I forgot that Trump had won the election. I desperately hoped that I had dreamed it and that Clinton had won instead, that I was not living in the reality of an America that still hadnt elected a female president. But I was. And even worse than that, the Congress we had elected was one of the oldest in history, and there were very few women in it.
That first day after the election was a blur. My professors all looked like they were going to cry, and campus felt like it was in mourning for weeks afterward. I felt like there was no hope left to hold onto, like maybe that fire of activism that the Bernie Sanders rally had ignited in me just over a year ago was misguided. The government didnt represent me, and it wouldnt listen to me. I wasnt sure what to do. This felt like a huge step backward for America, and I didnt know what I, as a mere college student, could do to change it.
My answer came to me one windy day the following January, when I attended the Womens March on Washington. On January 21, 2017, the day after Donald Trump took his oath of office, I dragged myself out of bed at six in the morning and marched through Washington, DC, with five hundred thousand other people. I marched for hours, chanting things such as, My body, my choice! and We will not go away, welcome to your first day!
When I went to the Womens March, I felt that spark of inspiration I hadnt felt since November. I remembered people do have power; they can create change, even when circumstances seem rough. Seeing half a million people stepping up to make their voices heard was so empowering. I was part of a political movement, and it was so powerful.
Ive been involved in politics quite a bit since then; Ive interned in a state senators office, seen President Obama speak, and canvassed for various political candidates. But nothing has felt as influential as the Womens March. Ive never felt as seen or heard as I did that day.
That is part of why Im writing this book. I think its time the women of the world start making their voices heard, and its time people start listening to them. Its time we vote to get more women in office. Its time we encourage young women in particular to get involved in politics.
