I’ll just say it: I am NOT a fan of Nancy Kassebaum.
Kassebaum, mainstream media gushes, was the second woman
elected to the U.S. Senate by her own right, “not preceded by a husband or
appointed to fulfill an unexpired term.”
She was elected to the Senate largely on name recognition.
She wasn’t preceded by her husband, but her father, Alf Landon, was a wealthy
oilman and former Kansas Governor AND a Republican presidential candidate in
1936. She didn’t run for the Senate as “Nancy
Kassebaum.” She ran as “Nancy Landon Kassebaum.” Her campaign slogan was “A
Fresh Face: A Trusted Kansas Name.” So, yeah, she totally ran and found success
on her own merit. (And if you buy that story, let me tell you about this ocean
front property in Johnson County, available for a song.)
Can we please stop pretending she was elected to the Senate by
plucky hard work and a winning attitude? Seriously, just stop it, Wichita
Eagle. Yes, the Eagle has an exclusive story about Kansas’ Political Female Has Been
of Record. (The male version is Bob Dole.)
She says, correctly, that if she were to run today she
wouldn’t make it past a Kansas primary. Of course, she blames social media.
Newsflash, Nance: You’re out of touch – not just in Kansas, but out of touch
overall. And it ISN’T because of the Facebook and the Internets. It’s because
the people of Kansas gave you 18 years in the U.S. Senate – 18 years to
improve, to lead, to meet meaningful challenges – and you used that time to
explode the debt, creating a federal culture rich in regulation and
overspending. Gross.
She supports gun control measures, Medicaid expansion and
criticizes Brownback initiatives to lower taxes. And then there’s her monstrous
belief that babies don’t have an intrinsic right to life. Of course she wouldn’t
make it out of a Kansas primary, and that loss would actually be based on her
merit.
We should absolutely seek the counsel and advice of our
elders. We should value their experience, but we don’t have to kiss a ring or
pretend Nancy Kassebaum has some sort of magical legacy. She’s free to regale
us with tales of her wisdom, but we should take much of her tale with a grain
of salt. She’s no saint. (Actually, I’d call her a bit of a back stabber.) And
for the love of all that is holy, let’s stop pretending she broke some mythical
glass ceiling for women. Her daddy broke the ceiling just enough for her to
work her way through.
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