[Congressional Record Volume 168, Number 152 (Wednesday, September 21, 2022)]
[House]
[Pages H8055-H8058]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
REFLECTIONS OF MY TIME IN CONGRESS
The SPEAKER pro tempore. Under the Speaker's announced policy of
January 4, 2021, the Chair recognizes the gentleman from Florida (Mr.
Deutch) for 30 minutes.
Mr. DEUTCH. Madam Speaker, I arrived in this storied Chamber 12-and-
a-half years ago fresh off a Florida special election to fill former
Representative Robert Wexler's seat. I was the lone freshman in the
middle of the 111th Congress. I was eager. I was a little uncertain. I
had a bit more hair. I wanted to do right by the people who sent me
here.
It was during those first days that I met the late John Dingell, then
the dean of the House, himself by all accounts a very important man. I
don't know about you, Madam Speaker, but at that point, having secured
the will of the American people to serve as their Representative in the
House of Representatives, and having received my spiffy new
congressional pin, I might have been feeling a little important myself,
even with the novelty of my new job.
{time} 1815
But John Dingell looked me square in the eye and gave me a piece of
advice that I would never forget. He said: You are not important. It is
what you can do for the people who sent you here, that is what is
important. If you never confuse those two, he said, you will be fine.
Over the course of my time in Congress, as Mr. Dingell predicted, I
have met some very important people, but those people, with all due
respect to my colleagues, don't serve in this Chamber.
I met Mitch Libman, the childhood friend of Private First Class
Leonard Kravitz, Company M, Fifth Infantry Regiment, 24th Infantry
Division. For decades, Mitch worked to find out why Private First Class
Kravitz, who sacrificed himself for his platoon during the Korean war
in an extraordinary act of heroism, never received the Medal of Honor
he was recommended for.
Mitch's efforts led to a 2002 congressional review to uncover
soldiers of Jewish and Hispanic origin who were wrongfully denied the
Medal of Honor due to prejudice. His tireless devotion to his late
friend led me to introduce an amended version of the National Defense
Authorization Act in the 113th Congress to ensure each and every
soldier discovered during that review to deserve the Medal of Honor
received their award.
I was proud to stand before President Obama surrounded by the
families of these bravest Americans when the President awarded 24
recipients, including Private First Class Kravitz posthumously, with
that deserved honor.
Mitch Libman and Private First Class Kravitz, and what we were able
to do for them, that was important.
I met Mona Reis, the founder of the Presidential Women's Center.
Outraged by the prevalence of unsafe, back-alley abortions, by the
injustice of women having to travel across borders to access basic
reproductive healthcare that is their right, Mona lobbied for legalized
abortion here in Washington.
The day after Roe v. Wade was decided, she joined the first
outpatient abortion clinic in Miami as a staff counselor, helping women
in Florida finally access the care they needed. When she moved north to
my district, she founded the Presidential Women's Center in Palm Beach
County, a leading comprehensive reproductive care facility.
It is because of her dedication to women's basic human rights in
south Florida, and her shining example nurturing patients through the
most difficult decision of their lives, that I fought hard against
efforts to attack women's bodily autonomy, first in Tallahassee and
then in Washington.
It is why I became a task force chair of the Pro-Choice Caucus.
Together with my colleagues, we passed the Women's Health Protection
Act in the House to codify Roe into law and pushed for the repeal of
the global gag rule. That was important, and especially in this moment,
it continues to be important.
I met Robert Boo and Bruce Williams, CEO and active aging manager of
the Pride Center at Equality Park in Wilton Manors, Florida. Every day,
they work with their team to create a welcoming, empowering home with a
wealth of resources for south Florida's LGBTQ+ community and
particularly LGBTQ+ seniors. From art galleries to health workshops to
education to counseling, Robert and Bruce ensure that the community's
needs are met.
But the challenges that they face are tremendous. LGBTQ+ seniors have
endured a lifetime of marginalization and discrimination, and their
needs are many and unique.
Their work led me to Ruthie Berman, a lifelong advocate who fought
alongside her wife, Connie, for the LGBTQ+ community. Even though
Connie is no longer with us, Ruthie's activism has not let up. She is
still briefing congressional staff and sharing her wisdom.
Ruthie and Connie, Bruce and Robert, all of their tireless efforts
prompted me to introduce the Ruthie and Connie LGBT Elder Americans Act
every Congress and to chair the Equality Caucus' Task Force on Aging.
Because of them, Congress better understands the needs of this
community and has the tools to take action. That is important.
I met David Hogg, Matt and Ryan Deitsch, Cameron Kasky, and X
Gonzalez. I met Jackie Corin, Alex Wind, and dozens of their
classmates. When 17 of their friends and teachers at Marjory Stoneman
Douglas were murdered by a killer with access to an assault weapon, as
our community was wracked with shock and grief, these
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young people refused to sit by and wait for the next school shooting.
They got together. They started a national movement.
They started March For Our Lives to prevent the next tragedy. Because
of them, roughly half a million people showed up in Washington and 2
million in cities around the country and around the world to demand
change, one of the largest protests in American history. Because of
them, we had the highest ever youth turnout in the 2018 midterms, and
we elected a gun safety majority to Congress, a majority that includes
dedicated advocates like my dear friend Lucy McBath.
I met Lori Alhadeff, Fred Guttenberg, Manny Oliver, Tony Montalto,
and dozens of other family members who had their loved ones taken from
them too soon and who are still pushing through their anguish to try to
make our community and our country safer.
Because of them, I introduced legislation to crack down on 3D-printed
guns, raise the legal age for purchase, ban high-capacity magazines,
and establish a Federal buyback program.
Because of them, a universal background checks bill and an assault
weapons ban have passed in the House, and because of them, the first
major gun safety law in 30 years is now law. That was important.
Because of them, I remember those they lost every day. I remember
Alyssa, Scott, Martin, Nicholas, Aaron, Jaime, Chris, Luke, Cara, Gina,
Joaquin, Alaina, Meadow, Helena, Alex, Carmen, and Peter. That is
important.
I met Christine Levinson and her children, Sarah, Doug, Stephanie,
Dan, Susan, David, and Samantha, whose husband and father, Bob
Levinson, was being held hostage in Iran.
When I got to Washington, the Levinsons had already been searching
for answers for 3 years. Bob became the longest held American hostage
in history, as his family navigated a confusing and disjointed
landscape of resources and information across multiple Presidential
administrations.
But the Levinsons did not give up. Even after we learned of Bob's
likely death in captivity, the Levinsons never stopped trying to give
other families facing the same terrible circumstance that they faced
more resources than they had.
They didn't stop trying to bring Bob and every American hostage home,
and because of them, President Obama issued an executive order to
better track unlawful detainment of U.S. nationals abroad and support
the families of those detainees, an executive order that was codified
into law by my bill, the Robert Levinson Hostage Recovery and Hostage-
Taking Accountability Act, soon after we learned of Bob's passing.
There are still hostages around the world today. Bob is still not
home, but the strides we made for these families, that was important.
Those of us in this Chamber and all Americans continuing to fight to
bring them home and to bring closure to the Levinsons, that is
important.
Of course, I met people before I came to Washington, people who
informed my work in Tallahassee. Their stories have continued to be
important. They have continued to inspire the actions that we have
taken in this Chamber.
On a plane in Florida, soon after my election to the State senate, I
met Berthy De La Rosa-Aponte. She told me her story and the story of
her daughter, Lucy, who was living with cerebral palsy, autism, and
multiple other developmental and intellectual disabilities.
Berthy told me about a harmful change in language on its way through
the State legislature, a change that could have had disastrous
consequences for the health and quality of life for her daughter and
many others with severe disabilities. She told me: If this goes
through, I will have two choices. I could put Lucy into an institution
or she will die.
Because of her, I introduced legislation to fix it. We got that
language changed. The American flag Lucy painted still hangs in my
office in Washington. While Lucy passed away 2 years ago, the change
she inspired, that lives on, and that was important.
The people I met during my career in public service informed
important work, work that we do with a lasting legacy, but so did the
people that I came here with. The day I was sworn in as a Member of
Congress, since it was following a special election, there was no limit
on the number of tickets in the House gallery for my friends and
family.
I was elected on April 13, 2010, and sworn in 2 days later, which is
not a whole lot of time for people to plan to come, but they dropped
everything to come even on short notice, and we packed the place. So
many dear friends and family were with me that day, filling up this
gallery.
It is hard to single any of them out. There were people who cared
about every issue under the Sun, with so many different visions for
what the future of our country could be. But many of the faces in the
gallery that day who decided it was worth coming for that moment, many
of them were people that I had gotten to know in my 25 years living in
Boca Raton through our shared involvement in our local Jewish
community. They are people who share my strong commitment to bettering
not only the American Jewish community, not only the global Jewish
community, but our Nation and our world through our community's
advocacy and service.
I have seen their faces every day of this journey, as I fought anti-
Semitism as cofounder of the Bipartisan Taskforce for Combating Anti-
Semitism; bolstered our Nation's relationships in the international
community as a member of the Foreign Affairs Committee and the Middle
East, North Africa, and Global Counterterrorism Subcommittee chair;
strengthened the U.S.-Israel relationship as a loud, proud, and
consistent advocate for Congress' bipartisan commitment to the U.S.-
Israel strategic partnership, to Iron Dome funding, to bilateral
cooperation between our two nations, and for calling out anti-Semitism
wherever it appears on whichever side of the political aisle; and
advocated for Holocaust survivors to ensure they can live out their
remaining years in peace and dignity.
Guess what, Madam Speaker? A lot of them are back here in the gallery
tonight for the end of this ride.
I lost my dad, Bernie Deutch, years ago. He couldn't be there to
watch my swearing-in, but it was the conversations that I had with him
years ago ringing in my ears that day.
When my dad served in the Battle of the Bulge and went to Europe to
defend America and to fight the Nazis, it was the opportunity to do the
work on the House floor that he was fighting for, that brave Americans
in uniform are fighting for as I speak.
Why did he do it? Why did he remind me of those stories? Because my
dad taught me, taught all of us, my brothers, Jeff, Stan, and Eddy, and
my sister, Elaine, of the dual importance, the equal importance, the
tremendous importance of being both a proud Jew and a proud American.
One informs the other. They are inextricably linked.
My colleagues and constituents know me as a proud Jewish member of
the American Congress. My involvement in the community, my travel to
Israel, those have been such a fundamental part of what I have done
since I have been here. They are cornerstones of the legacy that those
faces in the gallery that day and my dad helped me leave, and that is
grounding, it is humbling, and that is important.
There are eight people who were there with me that day when I was
sworn in 12\1/2\ years ago that I want to single out even all these
years later. All of us in this place are doing this for the world we
are helping to create for our children and for their children, for all
the generations to come.
My kids were 15 and 12 when I got elected. Watching Gabby, Serena,
and Cole grow, go through college, take on their own leadership
positions on campus, in the Jewish community, and in the workforce,
watching them do their part to help change the world, that has inspired
me to do my part all these years.
My wife, Jill, a leader in our local Jewish community with boundless
passion for cultivating the next generation of Jewish leaders, all the
work she does every day has been a source of strength and inspiration
for me every time I come to Washington.
The support from Jill, Gabby, and Serena, who are in the gallery with
us today, and from Cole, who is watching in Austin, that is what
brought me joy
[[Page H8057]]
when we celebrated success, and it is what sustained me during the
challenging times.
{time} 1830
Jill's mother, Sarah Gale, is watching today--I hope--and her father,
Frank, who we recently lost, both of whom supported me every step of
the way. My nephew, Eli, was there that day. He can't be here today
because he left us when he accidentally ingested fentanyl laced into a
legal supplement, and we all fight to honor his memory by bringing
attention to this epidemic every day. And my mom, who stood in the
corner of this Chamber, giving the royal wave to all of my new
colleagues, undoubtedly the woman of the hour, even though she was not
the one being sworn into the United States Congress.
During my swearing-in speech, I turned to her, and I finished by
saying, ``In all her 86 years, my mother, Jean Deutch, never could have
imagined hearing her name in this Chamber.'' ``Mom,'' I said, ``thank
you for making me believe that I could be anything I wanted to be
because today,'' I said, 12\1/2\ years ago, ``I am a Member of the U.S.
Congress.'' While I miss sharing the ups and downs of Congress with
her, I hope that as my mom looks down on us today, she believes that
the service in this Chamber lived up to the dream she had that day.
This job is not easy. We all know there is plenty of progress yet to
be made, that seemingly more often than we find areas of common ground,
we get caught up in bitter, often vitriolic partisanship. We fight, we
demonize, we create barriers to some of the change our constituents
rightfully demand. Sometimes we field violent threats from the very
people we are here in Washington to try to help.
I was here that day in January 2021. We have no shortage of dark days
in this Chamber, some very dark ones like that one. The battles here
feel important and often all-consuming. The trail of stymied progress
is infuriating. What this body of government is able to do for our
constituency, as increasingly rare as it may feel, that is important.
It is more important than me. It is more important than my successor.
It is more important than any of us. I have been here long enough to
see that it is worth fighting for.
I have also been here long enough to have so many people fighting for
me, and I want to thank my colleagues, so many of whom have become
close friends. There are too many to mention, but there are a handful
who have gone out of their way to fight for me and with me, who have
been so supportive of my efforts to obtain leadership positions under
their watch. Speaker Pelosi, Leader Hoyer, Chairman Meeks, Chairman
Nadler, Chairman Jeffries, my dear friends and neighbors, Debbie
Wasserman Schultz and Lois Frankel, and the late Alcee Hastings: Thank
you.
Thank you to the back row hecklers: Scott and Ami, Pete and Derek,
Stephanie and Dan and Kathleen. To Josh and Elaine, Debbie and Dean,
Brad and Kathy: Thank you for always being there for all of us.
The Republican colleagues who I served and fought with who helped me
bridge the partisan gap: Ranking Member Wilson, my fantastic partner on
the Middle East, North Africa and Global Counterterrorism Subcommittee;
Representative Chris Smith, my partner and co-chair on the Anti-
Semitism Task Force; Representative Gus Bilirakis, also from Florida,
with whom I launched the Congressional Hellenic Israel Alliance Caucus;
and French Hill, who worked with me to launch the Congressional Task
Force on American Hostages. I thank them.
I thank my Republican colleagues from the Florida delegation, like
Representative Mario Diaz-Balart, who has so often fought with me, and
Representative Wasserman Schultz to champion human rights from Caracas
to Havana to Tehran. So many former colleagues who were so instrumental
during their time here, especially those who were my foreign policy
mentors: Howard Berman, Ileana Ros-Lehtinen, Eliot Engel, and Nita
Lowey.
The Members who served with me on the Ethics Committee, some of the
most honorable public servants I have had the privilege to meet:
Representatives Susan Wild, Dean Phillips, Veronica Escobar, and
Mondaire Jones; Representatives Michael Guest, Dave Joyce, John
Rutherford, Kelly Armstrong; my late colleague, Jackie Walorski and
former Representatives Kenny Marchant, Susan Brooks, and Charlie Dent.
Thank you to David Cicilline and Jenniffer Gonzalez-Colon and all the
Members I have been privileged to travel the world with representing
the United States.
Thank you to the U.S. servicemembers and employees of the State
Department, USAID, and other embassy employees from Tashkent to Buenos
Aires to Jerusalem, who serve our Nation, each in their own way and
each magnificently.
I have seen a lot of change in Congress over the last dozen years.
Over 7 years and nearly four Congresses have passed since John Dingell
last stood on this floor. I wonder if he would be surprised by the
bitter divides that have expanded exponentially since that time. Even
now, his words are worth repeating. They are as true now as they were
then and will continue to be for every Member who comes after me.
``You're not important; it's what you can do for the people who sent
you here that's important.''
I think we can all agree it is the people who help us do that work,
our dedicated staffs, that are important, too. So this one is for Team
Ted. Thanks to my D.C. staff: Josh Rogin, Case Kustin, Aviva Abusch,
Sophie Mirviss, Jack Steinberg, Tiffany Mendoza-Farfan, Fabiana Corsi-
Mendez, and Alex Rogoff. My ethics counsel, David Arrojo and Tom Rust,
and the nonpartisan ethics staff. My district staff: Wendi Lipsich,
Jayne Chapman, Theresa Brier, Alex Rocha, Jen Raducci, James DeJesus,
Eric Johnson, Brandy Edelson, and Lewis Goldberg. And the longtime
members of Team Ted who have moved on to other roles, but whose
contributions to this work over the years are unmatched: Josh Lipman,
Joel Richard, Jason Attermann, Ellen McLaren, Ashley Mushnick, Darcy
Farnan, Jill Benson, and Daniel Fontana, and so many others. Thank you
does not suffice. No words suffice. You, your work, your service has
been so important to so many.
To the staff who keep this whole Chamber running, the floor staff
here, the Cloakroom staff right next door, committee staff across the
Capitol complex, thank you. To the Capitol Police, who protect us every
day but who deserve such enormous gratitude since the events of January
6 especially, thank you.
To the entire team of experts and management over at CRS and Library
and Congress, who are so critical to the legislative process, I thank
you. To everyone on the facilities and food service teams, the
Architect of the Capitol staff, everyone who keeps us fed, keeps our
offices clean, makes sure that we get our mail, our flags, and
everything else you do every day, thank you. To all who I do not have
time to mention, thank you for your service to this body and to our
country.
As I prepare to leave this place for the last time, as I transition
from this Chamber to my next chapter, I will keep John Dingell's words
in mind; I hope you will, too. Those of us that serve here can do
important things for the American people. The work that lies ahead for
Congress on behalf of the American people, that is important for this
Chamber, for our country, and for our democracy.
I am not important, but I believe the people in my community in South
Florida, the family who stood by me, the staff who served with me, my
colleagues who fought alongside me have helped me contribute something
important to our Nation on behalf of the people who sent me here.
To my colleagues, the friends who have served with me, inspired me,
and collaborated with me in this Chamber on both sides of the aisle,
those whom I have mentioned and all those who I cannot, even on the
darkest days, it has been the honor of my life to know you, to work
with you, to leave something important behind for our constituents. You
may not be important either, according to John Dingell, but you are
still important to me. I am heartened by how many good and thoughtful
people will still be serving here when I leave.
After next week I will be your constituent. I hope you keep pushing
to bridge the divides, keep pushing to do important work for all of us,
and I have
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faith that if you keep doing that, despite sometimes extraordinary
odds, we will be just fine.
I thank you, Madam Speaker, and for the last time, I yield back the
balance of my time.
____________________