photo © Lieutenant Governor’s Office
“Women often transcend party politics.”
—KATHY HOCHUL, lieutenant governor, New York State
I arrived for my interview with New York State Lieutenant Governor Kathy Hochul in New York City on the coldest day recorded in the city this year, December 18, 2019. As I was escorted by one of her aides to her office, I commented about what a pleasure it was to step into such a warm room given the chill outside.
“I can guarantee women’s offices will be warmer,” Kathy replied with a chuckle.
Once we sat down for the interview, Kathy had much more to say about the many benefits women leaders bring to political office. “Women are more apt to reach out across party lines to find common ground and common causes,” she continued. “I think that is the strength of women in leadership at every level.”
Citing one example, Kathy recalled when she was first elected to the US House of Representatives in June 2011, representing New York’s 26th Congressional District. “That got me to Washington,” she said, “but I had nowhere to stay.” Congresswoman Carolyn Maloney immediately reached out to ask her where she would be living. When Kathy replied that she hadn’t yet figured out a place, Carolyn invited her to stay at her home.
“She felt a sisterhood with me because people had also told her she couldn’t win,” said Kathy, who was told she wouldn’t win a congressional seat since she had no name recognition and was running as a Democrat in one of the most Republican districts.
When Debbie Wasserman Schultz, then chair of the Democratic National Committee, greeted Kathy in Washington, her first question to her was, “Can you play softball?” Kathy thought for a moment before responding. The real answer was that she couldn’t, but she also hadn’t run for Congress before. So she said, “Yes, I can play, of course.”
On her next trip home, Kathy asked her husband to teach her how to throw, catch, and swing a bat. When she returned to Washington, DC, she started to practice with the other players on the team regularly at seven thirty in the morning. “We practiced on a rundown ballfield, whereas the male members of Congress practiced in a professional stadium,” she said.
I told Kathy that her baseball experience mirrored one I had when I played on a girls’ Little League team, although it was forty years earlier. I played in the Lassie League, where there were four teams mildly named the Bunnies, the Chicks, the Pixies, and the Kittens. It was 1971, and the Lassie League played on an old field with no scoreboard. We weren’t given full uniforms like the boys’ teams, just T-shirts with the team name and number on the back. We also couldn’t wear cleats, although the boys did.
“One day,” I told Kathy, “the boys’ teams forfeited their game, which was scheduled to be played on the better field, so we were invited to play there that day. It had newer grounds, an electronic scoreboard, and a staff who announced each player’s name as they stepped up to the plate.”
I recalled feeling ecstatic over this turn of events—that even for just one game, our team would get to experience what the boys’ teams always got. But then, as our team walked over to the newer field, our excitement turned to disappointment as the staff suddenly left. “At least they didn’t roll up the field and take that along with them too.” Kathy reacted with a knowing laugh.
The fact that forty years later, women players—and members of Congress at that—were still being relegated to poorer playing conditions seemed horrifying. But then Kathy explained why the congressional softball games were meaningful. “We all practiced on that old field together, Democratic and Republican women in the House and the Senate,” she said, smiling brightly. “Politics were put aside as we all engaged in a team effort.”
Their first game was played against members of the media. “Senator Kirsten Gillibrand was the pitcher, Debbie Wasserman Schultz was the shortstop, and I played center field—I think that was because I’m a Democrat in the most Republican district in the state,” she said with a laugh. While the average age of congressional players was fifty-three, the average age of the players on the media team was twenty-seven. Still, the congressional team won.
“I was so new to playing softball that when I got my first hit, I plowed into the player on first base. I didn’t know you’re not supposed to do that,” Kathy said with a laugh. But the second time she got a hit, she did the same thing. “I showed the other team that they weren’t going to get in my way,” she said. After her team won, they went to a dive bar. She remembered that someone chose Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” on the jukebox. “I got to be friends with all of these Republican women, which is so uncommon because rarely anyone crosses the aisle to befriend a member of the other party.” She explained how the men’s experience is so different because the teams are separated by political party, Democrats against Republicans. “And they play against each other with a vengeance,” she said. “It’s a shame. There’s no collaboration or sense of community. Such a lost opportunity for them.”
On the day I interviewed Kathy, she was dressed all in purple, since she would be giving a speech following our meeting in support of janitors demanding fairer contracts from their union. Their official color is purple. Kathy sat behind her large brown wood desk, her large green eyes gleaming, offset by her shoulder-length auburn hair. Hanging on the wall behind her was a large poster displaying a breathtaking view of Niagara Falls, with the words NEW YORK STATE boldly printed just below it, and I LOVE NY just below that. Behind her to her right stood the American flag, and on the wood cabinet to her left lay a yellow sash with the word WOMEN emblazoned on it in bold letters.
The centerpiece of her office was a floor-to-ceiling bookcase standing against the long horizontal wall to the left of her desk. I noticed a number of items that paid tribute to her commitments and accomplishments in political office: volumes of the United States Code of Law stood alongside the plaques, proclamations, and glass trophies. I also noticed a white hardhat with the words “LGBT Network” printed across the front, and a rainbow teddy bear from World Pride NYC in 2019, both testaments to Kathy’s commitment to the LGBTQ community. As lieutenant governor, she presided over the passage of GENDA, the Gender Expression Non-Discrimination Act, and legislation protecting LGBTQ youth from conversion therapy.
How Kathy rose to become the lieutenant governor of New York State and the first Democratic woman to serve two terms in this position had to do with her determination, but there was also calculated risk involved. Her early career was rooted in advocating for women and girls, joining her mother and aunt in establishing the Kathleen Mary House, a transitional home for victims of domestic violence located in Blasdell, New York, in 2006.
From 2007 to 2011, she served as Erie County clerk, but when it came to her next political campaign, she was at a crossroads. “I remember thinking that I could run again for county clerk in Erie County, and I thought I could easily win, or I could run for a seat in Congress and be very likely to lose,” she recalled. At the time, she had no name recognition, and she’d be running for a congressional seat as a Democrat in one of the most Republican districts in New York. “I spoke with my family about it and laid out the pros and cons,” she continued. But it was her twenty-one-year-old daughter, Katie, who convinced her to run for Congress. “You have to,” Kathy recalled she said. “I then knew I had to show her that her mother had the guts to do something others thought was impossible. It was a lesson for her, and for me.”
Kathy won the election, in part, due to her unyielding defense of Medicare and Social Security. During her campaign, Paul Ryan was trying to end both of these programs, which provide free federal insurance programs for people aged sixty-five and older. Kathy defended these two programs nationally and received the endorsement of a number of women’s groups, including Emily’s List. “I was able to zero in and nationalize this issue, which also enabled me to win over Republican senior women in the district,” Kathy recalls. “I spoke with them about this common issue that transcended party politics, and despite millions of dollars spent by the Koch Brothers and Karl Rove on advertisements meant to demonize me, I won. I had no right to win this district politically,” she continued, “but it stopped many Republicans in their tracks. People have a right to healthcare.”
Just ten days before our interview, Kathy had been elected chair of the Democratic Lieutenant Governors Association (DLGA), an organization focused on electing Democratic Lieutenant Governors nationally each year. “As dysfunction continues to stall Washington, more responsibility is falling on governors and lieutenant governors to fill the serious void of leadership and continue to set the example of government working for the people—from confronting climate change to job creation to supporting women and working families,” Kathy wrote in her announcement.
Before our interview was over, I asked her whether there was any particular message or story she wanted to share with me.
“Yes,” she said. “I was walking through the Nine Eleven Museum yesterday, and it harkened to a time when our sense of humanity and common interests were powerful. We have to get back to this, but without experiencing another disaster of epic proportions. We need to put aside the destructive divisiveness in our country today. Also,” she continued, “We need to address why women don’t run for office in the first place.”
She spoke with me for a while about how women lack confidence, believing that they have to be “110 percent qualified” before even running. She lamented this reality and shared how this had been true for her too. “I was that woman who didn’t have confidence. I didn’t think I was qualified enough to run, even though I worked as an activist in college, became an attorney, and worked for Democratic candidates locally. I always felt I needed to wait until I was more qualified to run for even the lowest rung in government.”
She then told me a story of a twenty-two-year-old man who had just graduated from college and still lived with his parents when he decided to run for a position on her local town board. “That was my wake-up call,” she said. “I thought to myself, I have more experience than this twenty-two-year-old.” She grinned at me. Her children were preschoolers at the time, and she took them along with her while knocking on people’s doors. As it turned out, two seats opened on the town board, and she and the twenty-two-year-old won them. Looking back, she said, “The person who was wrong was me. He had a lot of confidence in himself at such a young age. He made success happen for himself. To think I almost didn’t run.”
Her hope is to see more young women run for office because, she said, “When they run, they often win.” Kathy hopes that by telling her own story she can help them along. “Only in the past few years have I developed the confidence to be a leader,” she told me. “I’d like to cut that short for younger women by telling them they don’t have to wait. The guys don’t. Women should think the same way. We need women’s voices.” With that, she rose to her feet and picked up a clipped set of pages from her desk, which included her upcoming speech to the janitors’ union. Her final words to me conveyed the message that had been the through thread of the entire interview: “We need diversity at the table.”