[Congressional Record Volume 164, Number 92 (Tuesday, June 5, 2018)]
[Senate]
[Pages S2978-S2981]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
Making Progress Together
Ms. SMITH. Mr. President, I am so proud to be here. This is my first
time speaking on the Senate floor, and because I represent the great
State of Minnesota, I thought I would do the polite thing and start out
by properly introducing myself.
I came to Minnesota right out of business school, just married, with
my husband Archie, in a beat-up orange car, and with a ton of student
loans. Most people who have never been to Minnesota know us for our
weather, but we have a thriving business community with a number of
Fortune 500 companies, and I got my start working for one of them:
General Mills.
The winters were every bit as cold as we had heard, but Archie and I
fell in love with Minnesota anyway and, before long, we put down roots.
We have two sons, Sam and Mason, and instead of just building a career,
suddenly we were building a life.
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I am so glad Archie and my dad Harlan, whose 88th birthday is this
Saturday, could come to Washington to cheer me on today.
So that is the story of how I became a Minnesotan. The story of how I
wound up in the Senate really starts in 1990. I had left General Mills
and started a small business that I ran out of our house. Sam was 3,
Mason was 1. It was a busy, exciting, and happy time for us.
My parents had raised me to believe that if you are truly going to be
part of a community, it is not enough to just pay your taxes and keep
your lawn nice and say hi at the grocery store. You have to find a way
to get involved in civic life. When I was young, they had been involved
in local politics. So I looked around the community, where Archie and I
had decided to raise our kids, and saw we had a State senator who was
really out of touch with the values my neighbors and I shared. Not only
that, but there was a young, energetic candidate running against her,
and he had young kids, just like we did.
In those days, campaigns tended to put their focus on traditional
neighborhoods with single-family homes. I guess the idea was that if
you own your own home, that probably means you are old enough to be
likely to vote and invested enough in your community to really care
about what is happening, but a lot of my neighbors lived in apartment
buildings, and they had a lot to say about how they thought things were
going, and frankly they were kind of tired of being ignored. As I have
always seen it, if you really listen to people, you will find that
everybody has a story worth hearing, everybody has a problem that is
worth working to solve, and when it comes to making big decisions in
the community, everybody deserves a seat at the table.
So I packed up the stroller with Sam and Mason, and we went off to
organize in the apartment buildings. People were surprised to see me,
but I had a great time. I got to know my neighbors, asked a lot of
questions, listened to their answers, and we built relationships. The
guy I was organizing for became the first Democrat to win that seat in
a decade.
After that, I stayed involved in campaigns and issues I cared about,
especially when it came to women's issues. My dad had been on the board
of Planned Parenthood in Ohio, and I got a chance to work for Planned
Parenthood in Minnesota.
Then one day I got a call from the mayor of Minneapolis, R.T. Rybak.
He had been in office for a few years and was working on a whole range
of challenges, starting with an epidemic of violence among young
people. R.T. is a really creative thinker, and he thought that if I
could bring my business experience to the position of chief of staff,
we could do some good work together. I was intrigued, so I made the
leap.
It was one of the best professional decisions I have ever made. I
loved the challenges of that job. Later, I held the same job for the
Governor of Minnesota, Mark Dayton.
Then one day, to my utter shock, Governor Dayton asked me to run with
him and serve as Lieutenant Governor. I will be honest. That took a
little bit of getting used to. When it comes to public service, I have
always been a lot more comfortable with the service part than the
public part, but that job involved a lot of the same skills I used in
my business career: building relationships, looking for new solutions
to old problems, creating coalitions to get things done, and it
involved one of my favorite parts of politics, which is listening to
people's stories.
A lot of times, when a big, powerful politician walks into a room
full of people, everybody kind of clams up and waits for him to say
what is on his mind. After all, that is why people came and, at the
end, maybe he has time for a couple of questions before he has to run
off to the next event, but there is rarely a chance for a real
conversation.
This is where being kind of a low-key person works to my advantage. I
would come into coffee shops or community centers or even people's
homes, and I would introduce myself and ask people questions: What is
going on with you? What have the last few weeks been like for you? What
keeps you up at night? That is when people really start to open up.
You know, it is one thing to go around the table at a forum and have
someone say ``healthcare is my big issue,'' but when you are in
someone's living room and you are drinking their coffee--and we love
coffee in Minnesota--you have met their dog, you get the chance to hear
stories like this:
I just went to visit my mom in a nursing home. She is 40 miles away.
With the kids in soccer and karate and the school band, I am just so
busy, I only get there a couple of times a month. The nurses are great,
and they work so hard, but they only stay there for 6 months at a time
because they get hired away by a big hospital system that can pay them
more. So I worry that my mom is never going to get the same nurse for
more than 6 months at a time. I wish there was some way these nurses
could get paid more so they don't have to leave.
I can't tell you how much these conversations mean to me, and so,
when I was Lieutenant Governor, I made Minnesotans' living rooms my
office, and I spent as much time as I could just talking to people. I
have always found that when you ask people what they think and then you
really listen to what they say, instead of just waiting for the answer
that you were expecting, that is when you start to get a sense of what
you can do to improve people's lives.
Now that I have this opportunity to serve the people of Minnesota in
Washington, I am so focused on the issues that they tell me about when
I am sitting in their living rooms, around their family pictures, and
talking about what is happening to them.
The thing that keeps coming up in these conversations is a very
simple but a very powerful idea; that is, freedom. In this country, you
are supposed to have the freedom to build the kind of life you want--
and not just the freedom but the opportunity. If you are putting in 16-
/18-hour days and still struggling to make the rent and put food on the
table, let alone pay for childcare or if you have a child who doesn't
want to go to a 4-year college and you have no idea how he or she is
going to find a decent job out of high school or if someone in your
family is sick and the cost of medicine is blowing a gaping hole in
your budget, well, then you are not getting that opportunity, are you?
You don't have that freedom.
Minnesotans who aren't getting that opportunity, who are being denied
that freedom, deserve to have a voice here in Washington, and that is
the kind of Senator I want to be.
So this is the story of how I came to be here and what I want my work
here to be like, but I am also well aware of the way the story
sometimes gets told here in Washington, and it is not actually a story
about me at all. Sometimes I am barely a character in the story.
Instead, it is a story about a man who held this seat before me, a
man I consider to be a good friend and a champion for the progressive
values that brought me into politics, or maybe it is a broader story
about how we should hold powerful men accountable for their actions and
about the hope so many of us have that this moment represents a turning
of a tide. I get that. I understand that.
My presence here in the Senate will always be seen by some as a
symbol of a broader conversation we are having in this country today
about the experience of women, so I want to give my perspective about
that and say my piece about where I hope this conversation goes.
My grandmother, Avis, was born in 1898. This is Avis here, standing
in the background with a cigarette in her hand. She was 17 years old
when the suffragettes crashed Woodrow Wilson's inauguration and
demanded franchise, and she grew up to be the president of a small
community bank in rural Indiana at a time when such a thing was unheard
of. Avis didn't seize the bank in a hostile takeover or anything; her
father owned the bank. He had three daughters, so the only way for him
to keep that bank in the family was to pass it on to them. When he did
that, instead of handing it over to their husbands, what my grandmother
and their sisters did was they went ahead and ran that bank themselves.
Avis's daughter, my mother Chris, was 33 years old the year that
Griswold v. Connecticut was decided, confirming that married women had
the right to
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contraception and thus to control their futures. But when mom graduated
from college a few years earlier, the options for women were still
pretty limited. My mom wanted to be a journalist, but her father told
her that she had better come out of school prepared for a career that
would allow her to take care of herself. Back then, that meant she
could be a teacher, a secretary, or a nurse. Mom picked teacher.
We lost my mom not quite 2 years ago to Alzheimer's. She was such an
inspiration to me, and I think she would have been an incredible
journalist. But mom didn't sit around and feel sorry for herself. Just
like her mother before her, she was a fighter, and she figured out how
to make the best possible life for herself and for the people she
loved, no matter what the constraints anyone else tried to put on her.
As for me, I was 16 the year Roe v. Wade was decided. I grew up in a
time of incredible progress for women, and with women like my mother
and my grandmother in my family tree, I believed it when my mother and
father told me that I could do whatever I wanted to do when I grew up,
which isn't to say that I didn't notice the way the world worked.
It is interesting. I graduated from business school in 1984. That
year, the big story among MBA types was about Mary Cunningham. Mary was
a brilliant woman. When she graduated from Harvard Business School, the
dean had said she might someday become Harvard's first female graduate
to become chairman of a noncosmetic company. That is what passed for a
compliment back then. Indeed, she went on to become one of the first
women who had ever held a senior leadership role in a Fortune 100
company. But that is not why she was famous. Mary was famous because of
gossip that she had slept her way to the top of the corporate ladder.
That was the context for young women like me when we started in
business.
I remember that my graduating class in business school was about one-
third women, and we all dressed like men--suits and white shirts and
red power ties. We were dressing in a world where women could dream of
professional success, but the best way to do that was to pass like a
man.
I have been fortunate in my career and in my life. I have always been
surrounded by strong women and thoughtful men. I don't have a horror
story to share like the ones we have heard from so many women in the
``me too.'' movement or the millions of similar stories that have gone
unheard simply because the men in those stories weren't famous. But
when you really listen to women, you begin to understand the million
little ways in which all women are made less and denied the opportunity
to contribute to their communities and their country.
The day that Governor Dayton announced he was appointing me to fill
this Senate seat, I stood next to him feeling proud and excited and
ready to serve the people of Minnesota. Why not? Here I was, with a
graduate degree, having worked at General Mills and started my own
company, having managed 34,000 people and a multibillion-dollar budget
as chief of staff for the Governor and served as Lieutenant Governor.
Then a reporter raised his hands and he asked: ``So, do you think
you'll be able to do this?'' Like a lot of women, I brushed it off. You
learn to deal with stuff like this.
The indignities are one thing, but there are also injustices that are
holding women back, and a lot of them start with the policies that get
made right here in Washington. There is the stuff that gets a lot of
attention, like trying to defund Planned Parenthood, which millions of
women rely on for healthcare, rolling back women's access to basic
reproductive services, and standing in the way of equal pay for equal
work. Then there is the stuff that you only really understand when you
listen to the realities in women's lives. The high cost of childcare
isn't a woman's issue per se, but who winds up having to drop out of
the workforce when a family can't afford childcare? Women do. The high
cost of prescription drugs isn't a woman's issue per se, but who winds
up shouldering the responsibility of caring for aging parents? Women
do. Just last month, the conservative majority on the Supreme Court
decided that employers should be able to force workers into signing
mandatory arbitration agreements that prohibit them from going to court
when they are mistreated. That isn't a woman's issue per se, either,
but millions of women who are sexually harassed or abused in the
workplace lost their ability to seek justice in the process.
All of these things add up to a world in which women are unfairly
denied that freedom I was talking about earlier--the freedom to build
the kind of lives they want. We may have moved past the days when that
freedom depended on your father or your husband, but much of it still
depends on what we do here in Washington, and we are letting too many
women down.
You don't have to be a woman to care about these problems or to be
part of the solution. In fact, Senator Franken led the fight to ban
those mandatory arbitration clauses when he was serving in this seat.
But the fact is, a lot of these problems have endured because women
haven't had a seat at the table here in Washington.
I am the 51st woman to take the oath of office as United States
Senator, but we have had 50 different Senators named Charles--and I
mean no disrespect to my minority leader. Put another way, nearly half
of all the women who have ever served in the United States Senate are
serving right now. You can slice and dice these numbers a million
different ways. They are all sobering. But it is changing. Since I took
the office, my friend from Mississippi became the Senate's 52nd-ever
woman and the 27th Smith. So instead of my place in the Senate
reminding people of all the ways in which women have been held back
from contributing in our country, I want it to be a reminder of the
contributions women can make when we have the freedom to do so.
One of the best things about my time here so far has been getting to
know the other women in the Senate. Some of us are very progressive
Democrats, and some of us are very conservative Republicans, but we get
together once a month, and we listen, and we talk to each other, and we
find a lot of common ground.
My friend Lisa Murkowski and I have something in common. It turns out
we both worked on the Trans-Alaska Pipeline on the North Slope of
Alaska. I know I don't look like somebody who worked on a pipeline, but
after high school, I joined the union and spent a summer working in the
kitchen--a kitchen in a construction camp on Prudhoe Bay. It was only
an entry-level job--I wasn't allowed to touch anything hot or sharp--
but it was an interesting summer, and all these years later, it gave
Lisa and me something to talk about. Once we started talking about
that, we found ourselves talking about something else we have in
common: We both are really concerned about the fact that kids in rural
communities don't have access to the mental health services they need.
We have both met with too many parents and too many teachers who worry
that kids are slipping through the cracks. So we decided to team up,
and now we have a bipartisan bill to bring mental health professionals
in the National Health Service Corps into more schools so more kids can
have access to services.
The truth is, when women are empowered to contribute more fully, we
all benefit. We have seen it in our economy for the last generation. We
are seeing it in our politics, as women drive the resistance to
policies that hurt working people and leave our children vulnerable to
gun violence. We are seeing it more and more here in the Senate. I am
so proud to be a part of that.
I know that I am going to always be known in part for the
circumstances that brought me here, but I will tell you what I told
that reporter when he asked whether or not I thought I could handle
this job: Do not underestimate me.
I believe that, as a woman and as a progressive and as a Minnesotan,
I have a lot to contribute to this body, and I am so ready to do that
work. I intend to stand up to this administration when it attacks the
values I believe in, but I am also ready to listen, to learn, and so
ready to work with anyone who wants to expand freedom and opportunity
for women and men across this country.
I believe we can find ways to work together and make some progress
for the people we represent. And I will tell
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you something else: I believe we can actually enjoy doing it. I know
that is not a trendy thing to say. I know we are supposed to come here
and immediately start complaining about how broken everything is, how
horrible the other side is, and how much we hate these jobs that we
spend all this time and money campaigning for. I have to say, I don't
get it. I think it is so amazing that we get to go out and talk to
people about their lives and then bring their ideas and their concerns
to the table here in Washington and try to figure out how to make
progress for them.
I grew up out West, in New Mexico. In fact, Senator Udall and Senator
Heinrich tell me I am the only Senator currently serving who was born
in New Mexico. Our town was informally divided into two parts, and mine
was one of the only White families in our neighborhood, which was
mostly populated by Hispanic families who had been there for
generations. Most of the kids I grew up around spoke Spanish at home.
So from a very early age, I grew up with this sense that everyone
around me had something different to offer.
My parents sent me to the public school in our neighborhood, and my
school, frankly, lacked some of the resources that the schools where
more of the White kids went had. So my parents got involved. My dad
joined the school board, my mom volunteered, and they both devoted part
of their lives to making things better. Do you know what? They loved
it. They loved doing that work.
I was raised to believe that the world is full of people who share
the same hopes and dreams but have very different experiences and
perspectives and that part of being a good citizen is to go out and
listen to those different experiences and perspectives and do your part
to help and that it can even be fun.
Maybe that is why Minnesota was the right place for me to go into
public service. Minnesotans really love doing the hard work of
democracy. We vote in higher numbers than anyone else. We love talking
about the issues of the day in the checkout line of the supermarket,
along with the weather, which we really love talking about. We almost
always elect people who enjoy working to protect people's lives, to
improve people's lives, and there is no better example of that than my
friend and senior Senator, Amy Klobuchar. She is effective because she
doesn't buy into the cynicism. She really believes that by listening to
people and working hard to make a difference for them, progress is
possible, and she proves it every single day. The same was true of my
predecessor, Senator Franken, who brought not just wit but heart and
passion to his work. It has been true for a long line of Minnesotans,
from Hubert Humphrey and Walter Mondale to Paul Wellstone and Dave
Durenberger.
The other thing you learn when you spend a lot of time listening to
Minnesotans is just how hard they are willing to work to create
opportunity for their families. They deserve a Senator who will work
just as hard on their behalf, and I am not just ready to do that, I am
excited to do that.
I know there will be some rough days here in the Senate, but what an
honor to have the chance to do this work alongside all of you. With my
mother and my grandmother beside me, I am so thrilled to be here, and I
am full of hope about the progress we can all make together.
Thank you.
I yield the floor.
Mr. ALEXANDER. I suggest the absence of a quorum.
The PRESIDING OFFICER (Mr. Cruz). The clerk will call the roll.
The bill clerk proceeded to call the roll.
Mr. McCONNELL. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order
for the quorum call be rescinded.
The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.
Mr. McCONNELL. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that
notwithstanding the provisions of rule XXII, all postcloture time on
the Rodriguez nomination be considered expired at 2:15 p.m. and the
Senate immediately vote on the nomination; that if confirmed, the
motion to reconsider be considered made and laid on the table and the
President be immediately notified of the Senate's action.
The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.
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