Introduction

Women and Leadership: A “Seismic Change” ...................... 1

Politician by Choice: Three Who Faced the Voters ................ 3

 You Try to Be Part of Change

 Winning With Hard Work, Supportive Friends

 Success Is the Best Revenge

Learning About Leadership on the Job ................................. 9

Women Judges: Pioneers at the Bench ................................ 11

An Activist’s Vocation: Social Justice, Equality ...................... 13 

Helping Hands Train Women in Politics ............................... 15

 League of Women Voters: Politics at the Grassroots Level

 Getting Women “Ready to Run”

Internet Resources ............................................................. 19

Women

in 

Politics

Making a Difference in the U.S.A.

Cover: Deepa Iyer (center) during a SAALT demonstration in favor of immigration reform (Courtesy 

South Asian Americans Leading Together (SAALT)) See her story on page 13. 


T

he average woman in the United States – just 

like those in other countries -- wakes each 

morning to a myriad of responsibilities and 

concerns. These concerns range from the quality 

of her children’s education to the stability of the 

family’s source of income to her ability to safely 

walk the streets near her home. 

What most women do not focus on, however, 

is how political and governmental actions affect 

“their” issues. Many do not realize that they can 

do something to improve the quality of their lives 

-- and that of their families and communities -- by 

reaching for political leadership or becoming involved in political and civic activities. If democracies are to function and to better their citizens’ 

lives, women’s voices need to be heard at the political level and the barriers to their participation 

have to come down.

This publication offers the stories of women who 

believed that they could make a difference by participating in politics and government, and forged 

ahead to do so. They are not famous, like U.S. 

presidential candidate Hillary Clinton, and they 

are not serving at the top, like Presidents Michelle 

Bachelet of Chile or Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf in Liberia. But, just like Bachelet, Clinton, and Johnson-Sirleaf, they have overcome obstacles to get 

where they are. They have acquired experience 

in running for election, being an effective policymaker, and in persuading elected officials to support their cause.

We hope that these stories inspire women who 

read them to become involved in their communities 

and even at the national level. As Carol Hunstein, 

presiding justice of the Supreme Court of Georgia 

and one whose story is featured here, says, “It’s 

really important for women to serve. ... We have 

something to offer.”

Women in the United States not only vote in huge numbers, 

but volunteer to help run elections. Above, precinct chair Judy 

Wittkop explains the rules during a caucus in Le Mars, Iowa, 

January 3, 2008. (© AP Images)

Introduction


T

here’s been a “seismic change” in cultural assumptions about women and leadership, says 

a top scholar on politics in the United States.

In 1995, Kathleen Hall Jamieson, then dean of the 

Annenberg School for Communication at the University of Pennsylvania, published a book called 

Beyond the Double Bind: Women and Leadership. In it she described the “damned if you do; 

damned if you don’t” choices that many women 

faced when they ventured beyond their traditional 

sphere of home and family.

Jamieson documented cases in which women political figures had difficulty gaining a hearing or 

respect for their ideas, were tied to “female issues” 

and were perceived as not capable of wining elections. “The history of Western culture is riddled 

with evidence of traps for women that have forcefully curtailed their options,” she wrote.

Recent history, however, is a lot different.

“Since I wrote the book, women have 

increasingly held positions as heads 

of state” around the world, Jamieson 

says. More American women are 

serving as governors, in the Congress, 

in presidential cabinets, as heads of 

major philanthropies, and as university 

professors; and all have demonstrated 

their competencies as leaders to the 

public.

“All of those (women) constitute opportunities for the public 

to see female leadership,” Jamieson said. “Since I wrote Beyond the 

Double Bind, there have been a great number of 

changes in the culture – most of them increase the 

likelihood that a woman will be taken seriously as 

a presidential candidate.”

She credits the women’s movement of the second 

half of the 20th century for raising public awareness that there were women with expertise the nation could use who were being barred access to 

visible positions of authority. Jamieson, now the 

director of the Annenberg Public Policy Center of 

the University of Pennsylvania, says the women’s 

movement had a personal impact on her life as 

well.

When Jamieson published Packaging the Presidency, the first of some 20 books she has written 

on U.S. politics, she was “invited to be in more 

media places than I wanted to be; I was taken 

aback by the attention. ...

“I attribute that to the fact that the mass 

media were recognizing that women 

were in the audience and they (the networks) needed to make sure that they 

had women on television.”

Jamieson acknowledges that “women’s 

leadership doesn’t necessarily solve all 

of the problems. And women’s leadership doesn’t necessarily insure that 

Women and Leadership: 

A “Seismic Change”

By Jane Morse




you address 

the problems that are 

unique to 

women. ... 

The difference that we 

attribute to a 

difference in 

gender may 

well be the 

difference 

that gender 

brings in the 

form of life 

experiences. ...

“There are times in which the difference that a 

woman makes is a difference the occurs because 

that woman is more likely, perhaps, to have been 

a mother; perhaps to have cared for elderly parents; perhaps to have experienced discrimination; 

perhaps to have a combination of experiences in 

the economic world. ... And those kinds of things 

do make a difference,” she says.

Jamieson notes that other countries have led in 

putting women in leadership positions higher than 

those held by women in the United States. “In 

some ways, the women of the United States should 

look to those countries that have been led competently by women as a way of assuring themselves 

that the United States’ time will come as well,” she 

says.

But, she adds: “To the extent that women in other 

c o u n t r i e s 

are struggling to gain 

f r e e d o m s 

that we take 

for granted 

in the United 

States, the 

m e s s a g e 

that I tried 

to convey 

in the book 

Beyond the 

Double Bind

is, I think, still 

a good message: that if 

you look across the history of the United States, 

the progress that women have made has been relatively steady. The model that says women make 

progress and are then pushed back, doesn’t seem 

to fit the historical data. ...

“My take on history is that progress (for women) 

is slower than it should be, but progress tends to 

be steady and sustained. And one would only 

hope that in many of the countries where the oppression is backbreaking and mind-boggling that 

that progress will be faster and more strongly sustained than it has been the past.”

Previous page: professor and author Kathleen Hall Jamieson. 

(Courtesy University of Pennsylvania.) Above, the 16 women 

senators of the 110th U.S. Congress: (front row) Claire McCaskill, Dianne Feinstein, Maria Cantwell, Lisa Murkowski, 

and Olympia Snowe; (back row) Blanche Lincoln, Kay Bailey Hutchison, Barbara Boxer, Hillary Rodham Clinton, Mary 

Landrieu, Debbie Stabenow, Susan Collins, Barbara Mikulski, 

Elizabeth Dole, Amy Klobuchar, and Patty Murray. (Courtesy 

U.S. Senate)




Editor’s Note: It takes courage and hard work to 

break into U.S. politics and seek elected office. 

This section looks at three very different women 

who risked the odds and won. They are serving 

their first terms in the General Assembly of the 

state of Maryland.

You Try to Be Part of Change

I

t was a rocky road to the Maryland State House, 

but Joseline Peña-Melnyk loves challenges.

She was just eight years old in 1974 when she left 

the Dominican Republic and came to the United 

States. Joseline, her younger sister, and her mother couldn’t speak much English, and her father had 

abandoned them. Her mother struggled to support the little family. Joseline’s sister succumbed to 

the lure of the streets, becoming a teenage mother, 

and the father of the first two of her four children 

was killed in drug-related violence.

But the tribulations only served to inspire Joseline 

to work harder. She became the first member of 

her family to earn a college degree, and went on 

to finish law school. She later moved to the Washington, D.C., area, where she 

married Markian Melnyk, her 

law school sweetheart.

Peña-Melnyk had a full life as 

a wife, mother of three young 

children, and as community activist. But she 

wanted greater opportunities to make a real difference in society. In 2003, she jumped into politics and was elected to the city council of College 

Park, where she lives.

Into her second term on the city council, she had 

established relations with politicians at the state 

level and realized she was already doing a lot of 

the work they do. So when the incumbent state 

delegate for Peña-Melnyk’s district retired, PeñaMelnyk decided to run for that seat in the Maryland General Assembly. The assembly meets each 

year for 90 days to act on more than 2,300 bills, 

including the state’s annual budget. The Maryland General Assembly has 47 senators and 141 

delegates elected from 47 districts.

Peña-Melnyk was hoping that the senator and 

the two other incumbent delegates for her district 

would put her on their slate. Her qualifications 

were sterling: In addition to being an attorney and 

an experienced city council member, she spoke 

Spanish in a district that has a growing number of 

Hispanic immigrants. She had close ties with the 

community, having served on the board of directors for Casa de Maryland, a 

nonprofit social services organization. 

“Instead they put on (the slate) 

some young kid who worked 

at one time for the president of 

Politician by Choice: 

Three Who Faced 

the Voters

By Jane Morse




the Maryland Senate, and he was a well-connected Caucasian,” Peña-Melnyk recalls. “So I had to 

run on my own.”

That, she quickly discovered, was an expensive 

endeavor. “I had to put in close to $30,000 of 

my own money, and I’m 

not wealthy,” she says. 

“I spent over $7,000 just 

on signs.” Friends, family, and other supporters 

rallied to come up with 

another $40,000.

“It was a challenge because no one would write 

a check for me from the 

(Democratic) party or 

other elected officials because they didn’t think I 

was going to win,” PeñaMelnyk says. “It is very 

tough when you are not 

part of the establishment, 

not part of the ‘good old 

boy’ network.”

But “grassroots” efforts can accomplish great 

things. Peña-Melnyk knocked on the doors of more 

than 10,000 homes in her district. Senior citizen 

volunteers made phone calls; a printer helped out 

by mailing solicitations; a group of six core supporters gathered at her home every Sunday to 

plan her campaign. 

“My three kids – my twins who are girls, seven 

years old, and my boy, who is eight – at 6 A.M. 

we were at street corners, sign waving,” PeñaMelnyk recalls. “This was a family affair; they 

believed in me. ... My husband believed in me.”

And, finally, some important local papers recognized her efforts and endorsed her.

Peña-Melnyk won the election and began serving 

her four-year term in January 2007. She has been 

working to get an anti-cervical cancer vaccine into 

the schools, make health 

insurance accessible to the 

approximately 800,000 

people in Maryland who 

currently don’t have any, 

and find funding for boys 

and girls clubs in her district, which encompasses 

some 110,000 people. “I 

think in my first session I 

did well for someone who 

is a freshman,” she says.

What advice does PeñaMelnyk have for women 

around the world who may 

not enjoy some of the freedoms of their American sisters? “I say give them hell. 

Go try to make a difference. ... It’s worth it,” she 

adds. Women in politics set important examples 

to both girls and boys, she says.

“I think a lot of people don’t take their civic duties seriously,” says Peña-Melnyk, who became a 

U.S. citizen in 1983. “It is so important to stay 

informed, to vote to be a part of the process, to 

have a voice. You don’t just complain; you try to 

be part of change.”

Previous page: above, Joseline Peña-Melnyk. (Courtesy Joseline Peña-Melnyk.) Below, flags of Dominican Republic and 

Maryland. This page: Joseline Peña-Melnyk with her family 

by their home in College Park, Maryland. (Courtesy Joseline 

Peña-Melnyk)




Winning With Hard Work,

Supportive Friends

Hard work and some very supportive friends 

helped Gerron Levi realize her life-long 

dream of holding public office.

In January 2007, Levi beat two incumbents and 

another non-incumbent for a seat as a delegate in 

the Maryland General Assembly, representing her 

district in Prince George’s County. 

“I had always had the desire to run for public office,” Levi says. “I didn’t know exactly how I 

would enter into that. I didn’t have a great number of contacts in the (Democratic) party establishment in Prince George’s County – in fact, I had 

none.”

But her friends urged her to reach for her dream, 

and in December 2005, she held her first community meeting to establish herself as a contender for 

the delegate seat. 

“The primary obstacle,” Levi says, “was simply 

‘name recognition.’ For any candidate entering 

into office, the primary obstacle is getting known 

and getting your message out to enough people.” 

To do that, of course, takes money.

“Money is central to being able to mail things to 

people, to host events, 

to get to know people,” 

Levi stresses. Initially, she 

raised money from family, 

friends, and professional 

colleagues -- Levi is an 

attorney and serves 

as assistant director 

of the Legislative Department at the AFLCIO, a federation of 

over 50 national and 

international labor 

organizations.

By January 2006, Levi had $38,000 and eventually was able to raise a little over $70,000 for her 

entire race.

At the end of March 2006, Levi had mailed literature about herself and her political goals to 

over 30,000 voters. In the course of her campaign, most voters got at least five pieces of mail 

from Levi. She walked through neighborhoods, 

knocked on doors, and personally introduced 

herself to over 8,000 voters at their homes. She 

went to countless community events and held her 

own fundraisers. “That’s how I was able to gain 

enough name recognition and then go on and win 

the race,” Levi says. “I basically outworked the 

incumbents.”

Levi credits her success as a political newcomer to 

two special aunts who gave her emotional support 

and a lot of great friends.

“When I got ready to run for office, I was surprised 

by some of the things my 

friends did,” Levi says. “I 

had so many friends who 

gave me enormous money, opened their homes, 

and just ‘went over and 

above (the call of duty)’ 

for me. And so I feel that 

I owe them a great debt 

-- that is part of the reason 




B

arbara Robinson 

has had more 

than her share of 

bad fortune: An abusive stepfather, an alcoholic mother, grinding poverty, sexual 

molestation and rape, 

homelessness, and 

hateful racial discrimination. 

In her youth, she recalls, people told her 

she would never amount to anything. But she defied the odds and succeeded in government, business, and – most recently – in politics.

“I had so much to prove -- that I was as good as 

the next person,” Robinson said. “Success is the 

best revenge you can get on anybody.”

I really try to be as best a public official that I can 

be and to remain true to my convictions.”

And those convictions include improving the troubled school system in Prince George’s County --

closing the “achievement gap” between students 

of color and their Caucasian counterparts -- and 

reducing crime. Levi is proud of the work she did 

on passing a bill to prevent truancy, which she 

considers to be a “feeder crime” – a “small crime” 

that potentially leads to more serious crimes. And 

she has been tireless in her work to get parents 

and communities to become more involved in 

working to improve the performance of neighborhood schools.

A graduate of the University of California, Berkeley, and Howard University’s School of Law, Levi 

got her first taste of politics while serving as legislative assistant for U.S. Senator Dianne Feinstein 

(Democrat of California) on judiciary issues. Levi 

helped Feinstein draft campaign finance legislation and pass a ban on assault weapons. 

“I really have a high regard for her (Feinstein), so 

as a professional politician, I would say I probably emulate her,” Levi says.

“I think it is very important for women to be involved in politics,” Levi says. “And it’s important 

for them to join together in organizations with likeminded women who can support them in that effort.

“It can be very difficult, when you are one of a 

very few, so you really need a support base.”

Levi could have a long political career ahead of 

her. Young, Levi will only admit to being “under 

40.”

“I don’t feel that I’ve accomplished enough at this 

point. I’m always sensitive about my age because 

of that,” she explains. But she said that after completing her first year in the House of Delegates, 

she might consider running again after completing 

her four-year term.

“This is a lot of work!” she acknowledges.

Success Is the Best Revenge 

Previous page: top, Gerron Levi. (Courtesy Gerron Levi) Below, 

Gerron Levi, with Joseline Peña-Melnyk on her left, cheers passage of a bill to help homeowners. (Courtesy of the Baltimore 

Sun Company, Inc., All Rights Reserved.) This page, Barbara 

A. Robinson. (Courtesy Barbara A. Robinson)




first woman and the first African American in the 

history of the Maryland court system to hold positions as chief administrator of the Traffic Division 

and deputy administrator of the District Court and 

the Supreme Bench, which later became known as 

the Circuit Court.

In 1985, she founded her own company – Strategies, Tactics, and Results Associates, Incorporated. Known as STAR, the company is now widely 

recognized for its work in human resources development and training. Five years later she founded 

SelfPride, Incorporated, a nonprofit organization 

that provides community-based residential facilities 

and 24-hour care to people with developmental 

disabilities, as well as employment opportunities 

for people who were social welfare recipients. 

Despite all her accomplishments, Robinson remained dissatisfied with what she saw as systemic 

racism that hindered minority entrepreneurs. So 

she decided to change things “from the inside” by 

running for a seat in the House of Delegates in the 

Maryland General Assembly. 

Robinson competed against 19 people running 

for the three open seats representing her district. 

“They were younger than me and had much more 

experience in politics,” she says of the other candidates. In one of her first public appearances 

with the challengers, she notes: “I started getting 

scared, my voice shaking.” But 

she told herself: “The old Barbara Robinson the fighter is going up there. ... I’m in it to win 

it.”

At an age when most women 

settle down to play with their 

grandchildren, Robinson enlisted her five grandchildren 

That success, however, did not come easily. Despite a hellish childhood in segregated Georgia, 

she managed to complete high school with honors. 

A grant allowed her to escape her dysfunctional 

home and go to college in Baltimore, Maryland. 

But she dropped out after the first semester, pregnant with the first of five children she would have 

with the man who would be her husband for 46 

years. Nonetheless, she was determined to get 

an education.

It took her 18 years to get her Bachelor’s degree. 

She would work for tuition money, attend school 

until the money ran out, and return to work to earn 

more tuition money. Her husband, who had never 

completed high school, felt threatened by her ambitions. 

“Once he kicked down the door to the bedroom 

so he could tear up my schoolbooks,” Robinson 

recalls. Finally she told him: “I’m going to graduate with or without you. ... So whatever you do 

to make me drop out of college, it’s not going to 

work.” He relented and eventually became proud 

of her accomplishments.

But living in low-income public housing did not 

provide much in the way of a social support system. The “street people” who were her immediate 

associates scorned her for her efforts to improve 

herself. And she found she had little in common 

with her fellow students, who had 

come from better circumstances.

“I was by myself,” Robinson says. 

“I had to create a place for myself. And I did.”

Robinson went on to get her Master’s degree in criminal justice 

administration. She became the 




and their parents to work in her campaign. “I 

got my friends to help me,” she says. “I had 30 

volunteers that worked like 300.” She funded her 

campaign with her own money. She knocked on 

doors in rough neighborhoods other candidates 

declined to visit.

And she won.

“Nobody endorsed me,” Robinson, a Democrat 

representing District 40, Baltimore City, says. “I 

don’t owe any allegiance to any special interest 

groups. ... I represent the voters. And that’s a 

great, great feeling.”Completing her first year of a 

four-year term, Robinson says: “My primary goals 

are to see that small businesses get their fair share 

of the market. To see that women-owned businesses get their fair share of the market. To see that 

those (minorities) who are in business not only get 

their fair share of the market, but have the same 

advantages that non-minorities have to expand.”

A member of what she describes as the “over-60 

wisdom group,” Robinson acknowledges with 

pride: “I am 69-years-old, and I ain’t finished 

yet.”

Previous page: logo for Self Pride, inc, an NGO founded by 

Barbara Robinson. This page, some of the 61 women legislators in the Maryland state assembly pose for the camera at the 

2007 women’s caucus. (Mark Odell)




As mayor of a small city, Candace Watkins has faced some big challenges. 

During her time as mayor of Covington, a southeast Louisiana city of about 9,600 people 40 miles 

from New Orleans, the city weathered hurricane 

Katrina in August 2005 and saw its city hall set on 

fire in September 2006. 

These events, while difficult, provided new opportunities for both Watkins and her city.

Covington was hit by Katrina’s winds, which 

spread half a million cubic yards of debris through 

the city. Many houses were severely damaged, including the mayor’s. Watkins and her family spent 

13 months living in a dormitory while their home 

was repaired. 

Rebuilding and cleaning up from the storm damage 

was “an opportunity to step up and show people 

what [the city] could do,” Watkins says. “It was a 

group effort; I was just fortunate enough to be in 

the position of the top person in that group.”

Katrina helped Watkins 

realize how well she can 

handle a crisis, she said. 

“People will say they really 

saw a change in me at that 

point. ... I became a much 

stronger leader in that environment.” 

“If you’re in leadership 

... these are not the things you want to happen,” 

Watkins says. “But what an opportunity to show 

people what you can do. It really gave me the 

opportunity to rise to the occasion and show what 

leadership skills I had.” 

The city hall fire, which made several government 

and police department offices unusable, became 

an opportunity for Covington as well. It provided motivation to find a new home for the offices, 

which had been in a building in need of renovation. Now the city is considering Watkins’ proposal to buy a beverage distributor property and turn 

that into the city government’s center. 

Watkins has faced challenges from the beginning 

of her political career. Elected in 2003, she became the city’s first female and first Republican 

leader. 

During a recession in the 1980s, both Watkins 

and her husband -- with three children to support 

-- lost their jobs. 

Having to start over, she 

tried many different jobs 

over the years and ended up taking a position 

as the city’s downtown 

development director. It 

was Watkins’ first exposure to government operations. 

By Michelle Austein

Learning About

Leadership on the Job


10

“I love public 

service,” Watkins says. “Every 

business I was 

ever involved in 

had some level 

of customer service and that’s 

what I really enjoy.”

After serving as 

downtown development director for four years, “I really wanted to 

go forward, and the only full-time job that would 

afford me the ability to graduate to the next level 

was running for mayor. And so I did.”

But she almost did not.

In order to run for office, Watkins had to leave her 

job with the city. She accepted an offer with a local bank, on the condition that she would be able 

to campaign while working there. But after she 

started the job, Watkins was told that she could 

not accept campaign contributions. 

Without campaign contributions, Watkins could 

not afford to run. 

“Feeling totally deflated,” Watkins says she told 

her husband she would not be running. He instead 

encouraged Watkins to quit her job, despite her 

doubts about whether the family could afford her 

being out of work.

Watkins’ husband told her, “We are in this as a 

group.” Watkins says her family was very supportive while she was unemployed for a year during 

the campaign. 

Watkins’ campaign material featured a 

pamphlet with 

a picture of her 

walking with an 

umbrella that 

said “Walking 

for mayor: Rain 

or shine.” It was 

not just a slogan – Watkins 

walked door 

to door talking to residents. Watkins estimates 

that she knocked on about 2,500 of Covington’s 

3,500 doors. “And it rained a lot that year,” she 

remembers.

“We made the campaign about the people,” she 

says. “Not so much about me. ... we made it about 

the people and what they wanted.” 

Watkins won by one of the largest margins in 

about 60 years. She defeated four men for the 

job, including the son of a former mayor who had 

served for 24 years.

Watkins was re-elected in 2007. But because of 

term limits, she cannot run again for mayor and 

does not intend to run for another office. “There 

aren’t a lot of other jobs that I want,” Watkins 

says. “I love this job because I’m a caretaker. And 

I’m a caretaker of a place that I really love.”

Watkins wants to continue to be active in her community. She notes that community involvement and 

volunteering is “like a drug ... you get this great 

rush out of it.” 

Previous page: top, Candace Watkins. (Sophisticated Woman 

Magazine) Bottom, damage caused by Hurricane Katrina to 

Watkins’ home. (Courtesy Candace Watkins) This page: in the 

aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, some Covington citizens camp 

outside to wait for essential social services. (Paul J. Richards/

AFP/Getty Images)

10
11

Women today commonly serve on the 

benches of the highest courts in the 

United States. Many of these women 

judges have overcome great obstacles – from discrimination to scant financial resources for their 

studies – before they broke new ground by achieving their positions. 

Leah Ward Sears, chief justice of the Supreme 

Court of Georgia, has been a “first” many times 

throughout her career as a lawyer and a judge: 

the first woman and youngest person appointed 

to the Supreme Court of the state of Georgia in 

1992 and the first female to win a statewide contested election. After her election in 2004, she 

was sworn in as the first African-American woman 

to serve as the state’s chief justice.

“Being the first was always a little difficult,” she 

says. The American judicial system nowadays is 

“very different than when I joined the court and 

they were all white men,” Sears says. “I had to 

fight to be accepted. I didn’t do it by having a chip 

on my shoulder, I just worked hard.”

Born in Germany when her father was 

an army officer, Sears was inspired to 

attend law school after she moved to 

the United States in 1955 and saw the 

courts issuing in sweeping civil rights 

changes in response to the AfricanAmerican struggle for equal rights. 

“I never thought [being a judge] was 

a possibility for me,” says Carol Hunstein, presiding justice of the Supreme 

Court of Georgia. 

“Each step along the 

way has been a happy surprise.” She had problems to overcome all along, however.

Hunstein contracted polio at age two and then 

spent much of her childhood battling bone cancer. The cancer returned when she was 22 and a 

single mother. Doctors amputated her leg and told 

her she had about a year to live. 

Despite these hardships and a constant struggle to 

make ends meet, Hunstein earned a scholarship 

to attend college and paid for law school with Social Security benefits she received after her former 

husband’s death. 

As a female lawyer, Hunstein felt some judges did 

not treat her fairly. One in particular commonly 

addressed her as “little lady” in court, which she 

viewed as unfair to both her and her clients. Thinking “I can be a better judge than he can be,” she 

ran her first judicial election in 1984.

Patricia Timmons-Goodson, associate 

justice of the Supreme Court of North 

Carolina, was also often a “first,” 

whether as the first person in her family to attend law school or the first African-American woman to serve on 

North Carolina’s highest court. 

Timmons-Goodson chose a career in 

law because “when individuals had 

problems ... they found their way to 

a lawyer seeking advice. That excited 

By Michelle Austein

Women Judges:

Pioneers at the Bench

11
12

children,” Hunstein says. “These are important decisions to the people who are 

in front of you.”

Serving as one in a group of judges on 

a supreme court means that one needs 

good interpersonal skills, TimmonsGoodson says. All the justices on her 

court are involved in every decision. 

“You need to be able to get along with others, 

you need to know how to listen, you need to know 

how to communicate. You need to know how to 

compromise and when to compromise.” 

When a group makes a decision, it is critical to 

have a diversity of ideas represented, TimmonsGoodson points out. “Women often offer a perspective that 

is different 

than men.”

“It’s really 

important for 

women to 

serve ... so 

that we’ll be 

viewed as 

equals,” Hunstein says. 

“We have 

something to offer. That’s what I’ve done and that’s 

what a lot of other women in the state of Georgia 

and across the United States have done.”

Previous page: top, Leah Ward Sears. (Courtesy 

Georgia Trend) Bottom, Carol Hunstein.(Courtesy 

Stetson University College of Law) This page: top, 

Patricia Timmons-Goodson. (Courtesy Patricia Timmons-Goodson) Below, the three justices and their 

families, left to right: Leah Ward Sears, Patricia Timmons-Goodson, Carol Hunstein. (Courtesy Ward 

Sears, Timmons-Goodson, Hunstein.)

12

me then and it excites me even today.”

In the United States, citizens elect their 

judges in at least 35 states. Each state 

has its own set of guidelines for these 

elections. In some states judges belong to a political party, in others they 

do not. Hunstein, Sears, and TimmonsGoodson learned from the challenges 

of mounting their campaigns for election. 

“Campaigning is a very humbling experience, in 

which each citizen has a vote,” Timmons-Goodson says. Running a state-wide campaign takes a 

tremendous amount of effort, time, and travel, she 

points out. 

Judges are expected to be 

fair and impartial, which can 

make running 

a judicial-election campaign 

uniquely difficult. “Our 

masters are the 

law. When we 

run, we don’t 

run as politicians,” Sears says. “I’m very careful when I run 

for office that I not say ‘Vote for me and I will do 

this.’” 

The women described their experiences on the 

bench as both difficult and rewarding, and as an 

important community service. 

“Judges make very difficult decisions that have 

an incredible impact on people’s finances, their 

property, on their future, on their families, on their 
13

of a movement in the United States that was based 

on social justice and equality,” she says.

That, she says, is “the promise of America, in that 

there is this amazing diversity in race, national 

origin, in so many ways, and the promise is that 

we can all have the same rights and share the 

same benefits and privileges that come with the 

Constitution.” The opportunity for social justice is 

great, she says, “but it’s also a struggle and it’s 

something that sometimes gets harder with time.”

Iyer recalls that it was an immigration clinic at 

Notre Dame University in Indiana, where she 

got her law degree, that piqued her interest and 

provided information about immigrant rights issues and the legal challenges they face. She soon 

knew she wanted to pursue civil rights work, leaving an Indianapolis law firm to take a job with the 

Asian American Justice Center, where she learned 

the importance of governmental, legislative, and 

grassroots advocacy. For several years she was 

a trial attorney in the civil rights division at the 

Department of Justice, which gave her valuable 

experience in litigation. She left within a year after 

September 11, 2001, “primarily because it was 

difficult for me to be in the 

Department of Justice as a 

civil rights lawyer when the 

government was also responsible for implementing 

initiatives that were so detrimental” to some minority 

communities, she says. 

When Deepa Iyer moved from India to 

Kentucky she was 12 years old, an 

awkward age for a young girl to make 

such a drastic adjustment. Blazing a path from 

there to being the executive director of the increasingly influential South Asian American Leaders of 

Tomorrow (SAALT) took a combination of hard 

work, timely opportunity, and key influences that 

shaped her perceptions of democracy. Iyer has 

dedicated her life to making a difference, and being a woman and a member of an ethnic minority 

has not held her back. She helped push important 

civil rights legislation through to adoption, testifies 

before the U.S. Congress on immigration issues, 

and works to educate immigrants on their rights.

“Part of the reason I am active with an organization like SAALT and really believe in the mission 

of civic and political engagement is due to the 

adjustment period that I had and some of the experiences that my family and I faced,” she says. 

These were not unusual or traumatic experiences, 

but she recalls times “when my family felt marginalized and isolated in the community.”

This lawyer-activist says people made assumptions 

about as her family’s origins and their ability to 

speak English based on 

inaccurate stereotypes. 

Seeing other immigrants 

and minorities have similar experiences “shaped 

my desire to become part 

By Lea M. Terhune

An Activist’s Vocation: 

Social Justice, Equality

13
14

Subsequently, while legal director for the Washington, D.C., area Asian Pacific American Legal 

Resource Center, she worked with a coalition that 

successfully advocated for the passage of a language-access law in the city, one of the few in the 

country. It mandates multilingual materials and, 

sometimes, that staff be provided by city agencies.

Since 2004 when she joined SAALT as director, 

she has spearheaded programs that effectively 

educate immigrants about their rights and issues 

important to them. SAALT hosts town meetings and 

other awareness-raising events, which have intensified ahead of the 2008 presidential elections in 

which immigration has been a top issue.

In her testimony in Congress in May 2007 before 

the House subcommittee on immigration reform, 

Iyer appealed for legal means for immigrant workers to contribute to the U.S. economy and become 

permanent residents.

Emphasizing that immigrants range from naturalized citizens, to those on special visas, to the 

undocumented, Iyer says, “I don’t think civic engagement and civic participation is just about 

voting and being a citizen,” adding, “You don’t 

have to be a citizen in order to feel connected to 

this country and in order to feel connected to your 

community.” 

Defending civil rights is Deepa Iyer’s passion. 

Early on, she says, “I found what I am passionate 

about and I feel really lucky about that. I was able 

to recognize what I was interested in ... and chart 

a path based on that interest in what moves me 

and drives me.”

Previous page: top, Deepa Iyer. (Courtesy Deepa Iyer) Bottom, 

SAALT logo. This page: SAALT members pose at a regional 

conference. (Courtesy SAALT)

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15

T

he mission of the League of Women Voters 

isn’t specifically to train women to be politicians, but it often whets their appetite for 

politics and its power to improve lives, says Mary 

Wilson, currently the president of the League of 

Women Voters of the United States.

“We basically serve as a training ground for women who are interested in things political,” Wilson 

says. Members get involved in a variety of projects – from distributing information on voting to 

running leadership training workshops for activists 

from other countries. They get to know their elected 

officials through 

these activities, 

Wilson says, and 

learn how the 

public’s business 

is performed. 

“They (league 

members) gain a 

lot of insight, and 

they really sharpen their interest in 

the subject,” she 

says. “Many of 

them, as a result, 

say, ‘I could do 

that, too. I could make an impact as an elected 

official.’”

The league doesn’t keep statistics on how many of 

its members go on to run for public office, but Wilson notes that Senator Dianne Feinstein of California has acknowledged publicly that she first got 

interested in politics through the league.

The league was founded in 1920, a direct descendant of the suffragist groups that -- after a 70-year 

battle -- won American women the right to vote 

that same year. Its organizers saw in the league a 

way to educate women about their newly acquired 

political rights. As an organization dedicated to 

encouraging women’s political engagement, the 

league remains a strictly nonpartisan organization. Its basic 

purpose is “to 

make democracy work for 

all citizens” via 

voter education 

and to influence 

policy through 

advocacy.

The strength of 

the league, Wilson says, has 

always been its 

“grassroots,” 

decentralized 

structure. There 

Helping Hands Train 

Women in Politics

League of Women Voters:

Politics at the Grassroots Level

By Jane Morse

15
16

are some 900 league chapters located across all 

50 states, the District of Columbia, Puerto Rico, the 

Virgin Islands, and even Hong Kong. The League 

of Women Voters of the United States, led by Wilson, and the League of Women Voters Education 

Fund (a related group that provides research, publications, and forums on public policy issues) operate at the national level with support from local 

leagues.

To keep its civic education relevant into 

the 21st century, the 

league is making better use of the Internet, 

Wilson says. For example, its local and 

state voter guides are 

being made available on the Internet.

“A year ago,” Wilson notes, “right before the November 

2006 election, we 

launched Vote411.

org, which is a kind of full-service Web site where 

people from all across the country can find out 

basic things about where they can go to vote in 

their home locations.

“We’re hoping to get some additional foundation 

funding to bring it to even more people for the November 2008 presidential election,” she says. 

At the national level, Vote411.org will pose questions to the presidential candidates both during the 

primary season as well as during the general election, Wilson says. Their answers will be posted 

for the entire country to see.

Although the league has some paid staff, it relies 

mostly on volunteers – a resource that is becoming scarcer now that more women have entered 

the work force and have more opportunities to 

volunteer in a variety of organizations than ever 

before.

“But I’m happy to say,” Wilson says, “that the 

League of Women Voters in the 

last year or so 

has been holding its own in 

terms of membership, and 

we have been 

undertaking a 

very special 

membership recruitment initiative ... and that 

is the league’s 

role as an important training 

ground for people who want to 

participate in the civic lives of their communities 

and state and the nation.”

Recruiting from a broader age, racial, and ethnic demographic, the league is soliciting members 

among energetic retirees, students, and -- yes -- 

even men, a tradition that goes back to its suffragist roots.

Previous page: top, Mary Wilson (Courtesy League of Women 

Voters); bottom, League of Women Voters representatives writing and printing news releases – on the sidewalk -- during the 

1920 campaign. (Hutton Archive/Getty Images) This page: 

League of Women Voters members are ready to assist voters 

outside a polling station in Pensacola, Florida, 2004. (© AP 

Images)

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17

“We are striving through our membership recruitment initiative to indeed attract a broader base of 

members and thereby continue to be as relevant 

as we have been for the last 87 years,” Wilson 

says.

Getting Women “Ready to Run”

I

f ever there was a “gender gap,” it is in the 

area of confidence – especially confidence to 

run for political office. 

“Women tend to think they need to be prepared,” 

says Jean Sinzdak, project manager for Rutgers 

University’s Program for Women Public Officials. 

“Men will wake up and say: ‘You know, I could 

run for Congress today.’ But a woman will say: ‘I 

want to learn how to run for Congress.’” 

To help encourage more women to take the first 

steps towards a career in politics, the Center for 

American Women and Politics (CAWP), which is a 

national organization based at Rutgers State University of New Jersey, developed a training program called “Ready to Run.” Offered once a year, 

the non-partisan, one-day Saturday program is a 

crash course on how to position oneself for a political career, how to launch a campaign, how to 

do interviews, and how to raise campaign funds.

“Ready to Run” was born 10 years ago, when 

CAWP, which keeps track of how many women 

hold political office in all the states of the United 

States, found that New Jersey was consistently 

ranking in the bottom 10 states. Nowadays, 

“Ready to Run” seems to have 

helped: New Jersey is now 

ranked 15th, according to 

Sinzdak.

“This year, we had an election 

in which every single 

(New Jersey) state 

legislative seat was 

up for election and 

a record number of 

women won seats,” 

Sinzdak says. “Over 

a quarter of the women who actually won 

seats – there are 35 of them now – were ‘Ready 

to Run’ alumni.”

She adds that, although most of the approximately 

850 women who have completed “Ready to Run” 

have been from New Jersey, women attend from 

all around the United States and from every age 

group. More recently, “Ready to Run” has been 

targeting the needs of minority women, specifically, Latinas, African Americans, and Asian Americans. Steering committees for the three groups 

have found that the issues are the same: Women 

need to be asked to run for office; they’re afraid to 

take the first step on their own. What differs, she 

believes, is the level of political sophistication.

According to Sinzdak, African-American women 

already have a strong presence in the political 

arena. CAWP statistics show that as of October 

2007, of the 87 women serving in the 110th U.S. 

Congress, 12 are African American. Of the 1,734 

women state legislators serving nationwide, 231 

are African American. African-American women 

hoping for a political career can take advantage 

of CAWP’s “Run Sister Run,” a program newly 

launched in 2007.

Latinas are slowly but surely entering American politics. CAWP 

reports that of the 87 women 

serving in the 110th U.S. Con-

17
18

Previous page: top, Jean Sinzdak, bottom, CAWP logo. This 

page: Ready to Run participants talk to expert panelists during a recent session. (All, courtesy “Ready to Run,” Center For 

Women in Politics (CAWP))

gress, seven are Latina. Of the 1,734 women state 

legislators serving nationwide, 71 are Latina. “For 

Latinas,” Sinzdak says, “one of the issues is finding common ground across different backgrounds 

– there’s a big difference between Latinas from 

South America and Cuba, for example. They’re 

working on finding a common voice.” “Election 

Latina,” now completing its fourth year, addresses 

those needs.

South Asian immigrants, on the other hand, are 

pouring into New Jersey and have made strides 

in business and professions, but few have entered 

politics. Nationwide, there are only two AsianAmerican women of the 87 women serving in 

the 110th U.S. Congress. Only 30 of the 1,734 

women state legislators serving nationwide are 

Asian American. 

In response to these numbers, CAWP launched 

last year “Rising Stars: Educating Asian-American 

Women for Politics,” a program aimed specifically 

at this group. About 40 Asian-American women 

came to the program, which featured Asian-American women speakers who had been elected or appointed to political positions or who had worked 

on political campaigns.

“The women who were in the audience came 

up to us afterwards and said, ‘This is so great! I 

never see Asian women in politics,’” Sinzdak recalls. This reaction points to one of the most important benefits of the minority-specific programs, 

in Sinzdak’s view: “the opportunity for people to 

see people who look like them and to find mentors 

and role models.”

Other Programs

Other institutions also provide training programs 

for would-be women politicians. The “Go Run” 

training program, for example, was established in 

2005 by the White House Project, a nonpartisan, 

nonprofit organization dedicated to advancing 

women in leadership roles.

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19

Women in Politics: 

Additional Resources

IIP materials

International Perspectives on Women’s Political 

Participation 

http://usinfo.state.gov/dd/eng_democracy_dialogues/womens_rights/women_perspectives_essay.html

Women of Influence: “A Woman’s Right to Vote”

http://usinfo.state.gov/products/pubs/womeninfln/vote.htm

Women in the United States

http://usinfo.state.gov/scv/history_geography_and_population/population_and_diversity/

women_in_the_us.html

Working for Women, Worldwide: Championing 

Women’s Political Empowerment

http://usinfo.state.gov/products/pubs/women/

champion.htm

Working for Women, Worldwide: Training 

Women Leaders to Make a Difference

http://usinfo.state.gov/products/pubs/women/

training.htm

Recruitment and Training Programs for 

Women in Politics 

Center for American Women and Politics

http://www.cawp.rutgers.edu/TrainingSeries.

html

League of Women Voters

www.lwv.org

South Asian American Leaders of Tomorrow 

(SAALT)

http://www.saalt.org/

The White House Project: Go Run

http://thewhitehouseproject.org/voterunlead/gorun/index.php

Online Resources

Online Women in Politics: Statistics

http://www.onlinewomeninpolitics.org/Statistics.

htm

Women and Social Movements today

http://womhist.alexanderstreet.com/links/today.

htm

International Women’s Democracy Center

http://www.iwdc.org

International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance: Democracy and Gender

http://www.idea.int/gender/

Center for American Women in Politics: Web 

sites of Interest

http://www.cawp.rutgers.edu/Connected.html 

Editor-in-chief: George Clack

Executive Editor: Mildred Solá Neely

America.gov staff writers: Michelle Austein, Jane 

Morse, Lea M. Terhune

Researcher: Anita Green

Graphic Designer: Tim Brown

Photo Researcher: Maggie Johnson Sliker

Bureau of International Information Programs

U.S. Department of State

http://www.america.gov/

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