[Congressional Record Volume 171, Number 81 (Wednesday, May 14, 2025)]
[Senate]
[Pages S2917-S2919]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
Maiden Speech
Mr. CURTIS. Mr. President, having been a U.S. Senator for exactly 131
days, I am attempting to follow the advice of my great-grandmother. We
are very proud of her. She was the first woman school board president
of the Salt Lake City School District. Grandma Genevieve. We called her
Nana. She said:
Listen first, speak when it matters, and let your actions
carry the weight.
That may sound like it is radical in our social media-driven world
here in DC, but I am committed to following her advice.
As I begin my service in the Senate, it matters to me that both what
is said and what is done in this body will not just make noise but will
actually make a difference for the citizens of the Nation.
Ten days ago, I invited the citizens of Utah and the Nation to join
me in my preparation for this maiden floor speech today. I invited them
and all of you to join me virtually and go places that speak to the
heart and the soul of this Nation.
I visited four places where our bedrock strength and enduring
principles are found and where I believe our bold future will begin. I
have called it my ``Think Before You Speak: A Pilgrimage to American
Principles'' tour.
I began my journey with a hike to Ensign Peak. It is a small hill
just above the Salt Lake Valley. It is where my pioneer ancestors went
to talk about pioneer values and visions. Just after arriving in the
Salt Lake Valley, my pioneer ancestors climbed that very peak. What
they saw there wasn't what was but what would be.
They looked out over a barren desert--and I am talking not hardly a
tree--in the Salt Lake Valley. They envisioned a home for faith and
family and a crossroads not just for the West but for the world.
President Gordon B. Hinckley, who is a pioneer descendant and a leader
of the church, once reflected on that moment atop Ensign Peak. He said
if a reporter had been there that July morning of 1847, they would have
scoffed at the idea.
Imagine this: a ragtag group of exiles driven from their homes,
standing in worn-out boots that they had walked 1,000 miles in, nearly
1,000 miles away from the nearest settlement. They were in an untried
climate. They had never raised a crop there. They had not built a
structure of any kind.
What were they thinking? Well, they didn't just dream. They came down
from that peak and went to work.
As I stood at that summit, I had a strong wind against my face, and I
couldn't help but think of my pioneer ancestors, who faced those same
winds with much heavier burdens. I saw them pushing forward with
courage and faith, laying the foundation for the life we now enjoy.
From that hike, up there on the hill, I couldn't see beneath the
green canopy. That same place where there was hardly a tree now had a
green canopy. But even though I couldn't see it all, I knew the secret
to Utah's success. And if you have been there, you know it too. It is
the people--people known for their kindness, for their hard work, for
their resilience, for their independence, and for their deep, abiding
faith in God. The spirit that built this place is still alive, and it
calls us all to be what our pioneer ancestors need us to be for the
generations they saw.
We don't get everything right in Utah, but we built something
remarkable: a strong economy, a fiscally responsible government,
educational opportunities, and real upward mobility. Those aren't
accidents. Washington could use a little more Ensign Peak thinking and
a lot more pioneer doing.
My listening tour next took me to hallowed ground. When I visited
Arlington National Cemetery, I found myself drawn to reading the names
and the words on those white stones--Korea, World War I, World War II,
Vietnam--and where names should have been: unknown, unknown, unknown;
and occasionally, strangely, on the back of the markers, names like
Ruth, Ethel, Alta, and the words ``His Wife.''
I paused, and I tried to hear the voices of those who rest in that
sacred ground. What would they say to me, to us U.S. Senators, charged
with safeguarding the Constitution and the freedom they gave their
lives to defend?
Sometimes, those voices whispered gently, but sometimes they speak
with striking clarity, and never, ever do they ask my political party.
Those honored dead don't care if future generations have the latest
gadgets or a life of ease, but they do care deeply that those
generations have souls--souls with the strength forged by doing hard
things; souls that cherish freedom, pursue peace, and carry the moral
courage to stand for what is right.
They remind me that the Constitution was not just a clever document;
it was and remains divinely inspired. President Ronald Reagan said:
Freedom is one of the deepest and noblest aspirations of
the human spirit.
Those who rest beneath the white stones at Arlington didn't die just
so Americans could live free. They died so that freedom could take root
wherever the human spirit longs for it. Their legacy isn't just
national; it is universal. Their sacrifice calls us to something
higher.
Two headstones right next to each other caught my attention: William
W. Kirby and William W. Kirby, Jr. The father had fought in World War I
and lived 85 years. The son fought in World War II and died in combat,
earning the Purple Heart, at age 20.
Then it hit me: family. I recognized that families fight for freedom.
As Americans, we should all stand at Arlington as if we lost our son,
our daughter, our wife, our friend--because we have. Our honored dead
are indeed our brothers and sisters. So let's remember that we honor
best those who have gone before by standing for freedom today.
I walked into the Holocaust Museum alone, but if you have been there,
you know I wasn't alone; I was surrounded by thousands of young
Americans. And I found myself wondering: Do they see what I see, or do
they see without seeing and hear without understanding?
This place forces us to confront the darkest chapters of human
history and ask whether we have really learned the lessons. As I walked
the halls, I was struck by how easily a human life can be devalued. And
I kept asking: How? How did so many participate? How did others stand
by? How did some serve to enable? And how have so many already
forgotten?
The late Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks once identified both the problem
and the solution when he warned:
When morality is outsourced to either the market or the
state, society has no substance, only systems. And systems
are not enough.
Today, we are outsourcing more than just governance. We are
outsourcing responsibility. Congress outsources lawmaking to the
executive branch. Communities outsource compassion to agencies. Parents
outsource teaching values to institutions. Citizens outsource critical
thinking to curated social media. And far too often, we outsource the
truth itself to voices that might be loud but not always wise.
Rabbi Sacks also said:
Morality cannot be outsourced because it depends on each of
us.
The Holocaust Museum reminds us that truth, like morality, must be
studied, not streamed; learned, not assigned; and understood with the
weight of history, not just the opinions of the moment.
The values our Nation needs--moral clarity, historical understanding,
a commitment to peace--can't be manufactured by government or mass-
produced by culture. They must be grown, like they always have been, in
the cottage industries of family and communities.
For my fourth visit, I went to the National Museum of African
American History and Culture, because I believe unity starts with
understanding. Like many Americans, I wasn't raised with firsthand
experiences of the injustices faced by Black Americans, Native
Americans, and others who have endured the heavy burden of prejudice,
but I have come to understand that listening and learning are not one-
time acts. They require humility, honesty, and a lifetime commitment.
As I walked through the museum, I found myself thinking of and
hearing
[[Page S2918]]
the voices of my dear friend and former colleague Congresswoman Mia
Love. Mia broke barriers as the first Black Republican woman elected to
Congress. She used her voice to lift and to call us all to be our
better angel. And now she is one.
At her funeral, her children read a final message she had written to
the Nation, words that deserve to be remembered. Mia wrote:
Some have forgotten the math of America. Whenever you
divide, you diminish. The goodness and compassion of the
American people is a multiplier that simply cannot be
measured.
She reminded us that America's greatness doesn't come from
uniformity; it comes from unity. At a time when division too often
drives out decency, Mia's words offer a roadmap back to our shared
purpose--not based on race, status, or party, but on the simple truth
that we are all Americans.
My visit to the African American Museum also reaffirmed something I
deeply believe: that as long as bigotry, discrimination, and unfair
treatment still exist, we cannot claim to be united. To fully heal,
somehow, America must learn the delicate dance of leaving things behind
and, at the same time, never forgetting them. Easy to say, hard to do,
and together we must do it.
For her courage and conviction, her voice, her vision for America,
Mia absolutely belongs in the African American Museum and even more in
the hearts of every American.
Well, thank you for joining me on that journey. We could spend days
discussing the principles of each of these locations. If we did, I am
afraid I would be on this floor longer than my good friend Cory Booker.
I do want to thank my Senate colleagues and so many citizens who have
shared their lessons from these sacred places, and I want you to know
your insight will guide my service.
Now, in the very short time I have had to travel my State since
becoming a Senator, I have felt something clear and consistent:
Citizens want President Trump to be successful. Citizens also want
Congress to work, not just show up, not just argue. They want us to
succeed.
I have said many times, I want both the President and this
institution, the Senate, to be wildly successful. Sometimes that desire
requires us to be wildly honest, something that I think we will all
agree we could use a little more of in Washington, DC.
The way I see it, the odds of Congress delivering real results for
the American people go up dramatically when we start telling each other
the truth, not just behind closed doors but out in the open where the
public can see it, what I believe is their right to know. Honest policy
conversations on issues that are vital to the fundamental of our future
matter more than ever.
I have spent most of my time in Congress focused on four major
priorities that I believe deserve a fresh and honest look from all of
us in the Senate.
The first, energy. So let's be honest, it is time we talk more openly
about the importance of clean energy. Consumers are asking for cleaner,
more responsible energy choices. At the same time, we need to be
realistic about the demands of powering a modern nation. Affordability
matters. Reliability matters. And we must protect, not surrender, our
energy independence.
President Trump has put America back on the right path when it comes
to energy. I am also convinced that a healthy economy and a healthier
environment are not mutually exclusive. I actually believe they are
compatible and inseparable. The simple truth is, Americans want energy
that is more affordable, reliable, and cleaner. They deserve honest,
commonsense policies that deliver all three.
No. 2, our local communities. All right. My colleagues from the East,
bear with me. It may be hard to grasp just how deeply Federal overreach
affects daily life in Utah. Think about this. In some counties, over 90
percent of the land is owned and controlled not by local leaders in
communities but by a distant Federal Government. That is not
theoretical. It is daily life for most of us in the West.
I often say that the best environmentalists in the world are Utah's
farmers and ranchers. By the way, they hate when I say that, but we
live closest to the land. We know it; we care for it; and we depend on
it. We don't want to be managed. We want to be trusted. We want
stewardship, not control. I look forward to working with President
Trump to restore local control and stewardship over the land we love.
No. 3, China. For decades, we have operated under the hope that
bringing China to the economic table--even as they stole our
intellectual property, cheated on labor practices, and manipulated
trade--would somehow lead them toward democracy. Let's be honest. It
hasn't. In fact, they have moved further away from our values.
This isn't just about trade or technology. It is about national
security, economic freedom, and a commitment to the rule of law. We
need fact-based policies with meaningful and measurable consequences.
It is time to protect the American dream, not subsidize the Chinese
one.
No. 4, debt and deficit. OK. Here is some wildly honest, equal-
opportunity offender talk. We, and I mean we, Democrats and Republicans
in this body, are not being honest with the American people when we
pretend that Social Security, Medicaid, and Medicare don't need reform.
And we are equally dishonest when we weaponize fear, telling seniors
and the most vulnerable that reform means abandonment. It doesn't. It
never has.
If we act now, we can protect those most in need, preserve programs
for future generations, and avoid the harsher consequences of doing
nothing. It is time to deliver sensible solutions and real results
rather than just blame politics. Utahns understand thrift,
accountability, and the value of doing hard things. It is time Congress
caught up with that wisdom.
Here is our choice: We can have an honest conversation about these
challenges now or we can be the ones who will have to deliver the
devastating, draconian, harmful cuts that will inevitably come if we
don't.
So, yes, I am convinced that honest conversations received with
humility are what will make us truly successful in the U.S. Senate, and
our success as a nation depends on each of us and all of us in this
Chamber being unflinchingly honest and working together to make America
wildly successful.
Now, hang in there. I am almost done. I have to point out one more
thing. Fortunately, the Senate has provided each of us something to
remind us of all the principles I have shared today. What is it? The
tradition of awarding pins to the Members of the Senate began in 1965.
At first glance, these pins seem little more than a way for security
to wave us through security. But as my colleague the senior Senator
from Utah likes to joke, his pin is his ``Sorry, Senator'' pin.
When Senator Lee was first elected, he may have looked just a little
bit more like a page than a Senator. Whenever security stopped him, he
would simply point to his pin, and the guard would inevitably reply,
``Sorry, Senator. Come on in.''
Maybe it is my years in the jewelry business, but this little pin
means much more. You know, it is crafted from 14-karat gold, the
jeweler's favorite. Pure gold, though beautiful, is too soft. It bends
under pressure, but 14-karat gold has the right balance: beauty with
strength and practicality. It is a fitting symbol for our role here;
strong, balanced, and practical.
Each morning as I fasten the pin to my jacket, the gold reminds me of
the standard we should uphold. And the tiny diamond? In the industry,
we call it a ``canardly'' diamond. Wait for it. That means you can
hardly see it.
But even the smallest diamond reflects light. That sparkle reminds me
daily of our responsibility to radiate the light of truth, to be guided
not by partisan squabbles but by simple truth.
I encourage all of my colleagues to occasionally pause and examine
your pin. At its heart, the official Senate seal, rich with symbolism--
peace and strength, freedom protected by law, authority tempered by
responsibility--all guided by the light of truth and the words ``E
Pluribus Unum'' to remind us of unity.
And that familiar image, sticks bound together, which, by the way, it
was my great-grandmother Genevieve Curtis--Nana--who established that
bundle of sticks as the Curtis family's pioneer symbol, a reminder that
we are stronger when bound together in unity.
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I hope that each of us as individual Senators, and all of us
collectively as the U.S. Senate, will strive to uphold the values
reflected in this tiny yet powerful symbol, principles that have made
Utah strong and America extraordinary.
Mr. President, with lessons learned from the principles found in
important locations and sacred sites, let us commit to the values that
unite us as a nation. To my colleagues and friends, I hope you see
these principles not just in historic places but in the spaces you walk
and work every day.
Together, we can pursue a vision for America that continues to be as
bold and audacious as our beginning while delivering dignity, freedom,
and opportunity for all.
I yield the floor.
The PRESIDING OFFICER (Mr. Banks). The Senator from Utah.
Mr. LEE. Mr. President, it is an honor to serve with my friend John
Curtis. Sharon and I love John and his wife Sue. I have known them for
a long time, and he is a dear friend.
As you can tell, anyone who knows him loves him. Anyone who doesn't
know him, from watching his speech, can tell that he is a man of great
intellect, great conviction, and also he is a really likable person. I
feel so fortunate to work with him.
Welcome to the Senate, and congratulations on absolutely a fantastic
maiden speech. I am relieved you decided not to try to break Cory
Booker's record today. We will save that one for another day.
The PRESIDING OFFICER (Mr. Schmitt). The Senator from Tennessee.
(The remarks of Mrs. Blackburn pertaining to the introduction of S.
1748 are printed in today's Record under ``Statements on Introduced
Bills and Joint Resolutions.'')
Mrs. BLACKBURN. I yield the floor.
The PRESIDING OFFICER. The Senator from Wyoming.