I Swear: Politics Is Messier Than My Minivan by Katie Porter

Author:Katie Porter [Porter, Katie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-04-11T00:00:00+00:00

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The fundraiser was lovely and rather fun. White tablecloths and peach peonies adorned tables under a canopy, where donors listened to Seinfeld actor Jason Alexander. He had helped Democrats win in 2018 and was right back at it only a few months later, given that our next elections were in 2020.

“I’m here today with my beautiful wife, Daena,” he gestured. “I love you, honey,” he continued, “but if you ever leave me, I am running straight into the arms of Katie Porter.”

I blushed but was flattered. Humor has always warded off insecurity and frustration in my life, and having to campaign for reelection only three months after winning office was bringing up all those emotions.

As the luncheon broke up, I was eager to get home. I had left my kids unsupervised, so I knew I would find a sink of soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich crusts and an open bag of chips growing stale. I excused myself from a donor reminding me that Democrats need a new message (donors also need a new message, because I hear that complaint every day). Harley Rouda, who had just been elected to represent the neighboring district, put his hand out as I walked through the sleek monochromatic ecru living room of our donor’s mansion.

“Could you have my car brought around too?” he inquired, thrusting a salmon valet parking ticket into my hand and turning back to his conversation. Shame and fury propelled me straight out the door and into the bright Orange County sunshine.

“What the hell!” I exclaimed, watching the dropping jaws and widening eyes of a handful of fundraising staff waiting to thank people as they left.

“Harley Rouda just gave me his valet ticket, like I work for him,” I ranted. “I didn’t valet my minivan. I parked on the street. Am I not in Congress, just as much as him? Did he not hear that I won my election too?”

A staffer grabbed Harley’s ticket from me and headed to the valet attendant. My face flushed. As the valet navigated Harley’s sleek Tesla past me, I climbed into my country blue minivan and headed down the hill, through the gates, toward home.

Harley loaned his campaign a cool quarter-million at many fundraising deadlines, totaling $1.6 million for the election. Given this, it burned me when Democratic leaders compared my fundraising unfavorably to his, suggesting that I needed to work harder. Harley’s self-funding was not unusual. The other Democrat who flipped an Orange County district in 2018 was a Powerball lottery winner who spent $8 million of his personal funds to win. Not content with being lucky and rich, Gil Cisneros went after the prestige of being a congressmember.

By this point in my life, I was used to rich people; I had cobbled together scholarships and part-time jobs to earn Ivy League degrees. But at Harvard, my straight-A grades equalized the economic disparities between me and my classmates. I figured, once I was elected, the work of being a representative should elide differences once more.

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