I Swear: Politics Is Messier Than My Minivan

Copyright © 2023 by Katherine PorterAll rights reserved.Published in the United States by Crown, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.CROWN and the Crown colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATANames: Porter, Katie, author.Title: I swear / Katie Porter.Description: First edition. | New York: Crown, 2023.Identifiers: LCCN 2022052257 (print) | LCCN 2022052258 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593443989 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780593443996 (ebook)Subjects: LCSH: Porter, Katie, 1974- | Political culture—United States. | United States—Politics and government—2017-2021. | United States—Politics and government—2021- | United States. Congress. House—Biography. | Women legislators—United States—Biography. | Women legislators—California—Biography.Classification: LCC E901.1.P67 A3 2023 (print) | LCC E901.1.P67 (ebook) | DDC 328.73/092—dc23/eng/20221207LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022052257LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022052258Ebook ISBN 9780593443996crownpublishing.comBook design by Ralph Fowler, adapted for ebookCover design: Donna ChengCover illustration: Ben Wisemanep_prh_6.1_143316906_c0_r1 ContentsCoverTitle PageCopyright1. Not on the Ballot2. Positive Campaign3. MistakesKatie’s Guide to Consumer Protection4. 2185. Flip-FlopsHow to Whiteboard Anyone About Anything6. One More Word7. Twelve Years OldKatie-isms8. Running Shoes9. Hammer and Nails10. Katie and the Chipmunks11. Spam, Not ScamShow Me the Money12. Fresh Start13. Personal Funds14. Bought OffPlaces I’ve Lived15. Unpacking16. Honest Stink17. Talking PointsJobs I Want After Congress18. Correct the Rumors19. Ground SupportFind Your Supervolunteer Power20. Not Good Enough21. An Orange County Family22. The WorkHow to Contact Your Congressperson23. On Calculators and Cookies24. CloseDedicationAcknowledgmentsArt CreditsAbout the AuthorA Reader’s Guide_143316906_ 1.Not on the BallotI thought the hard part would be getting there.My campaign for Congress began the night that Donald Trump won in 2016. And every day after that, I fought and worked to win. On a cold, blustery day in early January 2019, I was sworn in as the congresswoman for the 45th district of California.After a two-year struggle, I’d made it to Congress. And yet, I continued to struggle just to show up for the job. I got lost in the byzantine tunnels of the Capitol that sent me in circles past industrial deep freezers and haphazard stacks of abandoned walnut furniture. I sat trapped on runways unable to physically fly to Washington. I arrived hot and sweaty, and always late, to press conferences, only to find myself straining on my tiptoes to be visible as men crowded in front of me.On an overcast December morning, not quite one year into my first term, I managed to arrive at the correct location, on time, and draped in respectable fake pearls. In between residential townhouses just east of the Supreme Court, the empty French bistro was the kind of place that women gather for long, chatty lunches about their ski vacations and personal trainers. Normally closed to business at the early hour, it was open privately for one of the most powerful women in politics.Stephanie Schriock, the president of EMILY’s List, had arrived early too. After working directly on campaigns for years, Stephanie turned to mentoring hundreds of pro-choice Democratic women running for office. She smiled brightly and sat down across from me. The table was set for six, with four other recently elected congresswomen coming to the breakfast to join us. Stephanie ordered coffee and asked how I was doing as my first year in Congress neared its end and I geared up for reelection in the coming November.“I am not on the ballot,” I told her. She nodded mindlessly as she reached for a croissant. Then, realizing what I had said, she froze with her hand midair.“What. Do. You. Mean?” she asked. Big Sister Stephanie, the cheerful mentor, was gone, replaced with Campaign Operative Schriock, hardcore party boss.As the leader of EMILY’s List, Stephanie was a salesperson, championing the need to elect more women, and her optimism and encouragement in the face of those challenges were legendary. But at this moment, she reverted to her former self, a warrior whose sole mission was winning elections for Democrats.Her eyes locked on mine, and she repeated herself. “What do you mean, ‘not on the ballot’?”I took a deep breath and burst into tears. I told her that my staffer’s plan to have me sign the declaration of candidacy in the presence of a notary in Washington, D.C., would not suffice to qualify me for the California ballot. The deadline was tomorrow, I was 2,670 miles away from the Orange County Registrar of Voters, and I needed to file in person. I would not be a candidate for reelection in 2020 unless I got there in the next twenty-seven hours. But what I didn’t say was that the administrative mistake my staffer made with the ballot deadline felt like a divine sign that I did not belong in Congress.Stephanie peppered me with logistical questions: What time was my flight to California? Were there any alternative flights if I missed my connection? How did this happen? Why didn’t this get taken care of earlier? Whose fault is this? Never mind, we’ll figure that out later.“You can do this. You can still make it,” she said, her peppy demeanor returning.“No!” I said, swiping at my tears. “I don’t want to! It’s just too hard!” Writing this, I realize I sounded like a toddler. But I felt like a toddler, powerless against forces that were stronger than me, and out of solutions except rage.Stephanie reminded me how hard I’d worked to get there and told me I couldn’t give up now that I had finally won. Reelection every two years is just part of the process, she counseled. She told me that I was doing a great job and recounted a few stories of my success in congressional hearings, holding powerful men to account. I appreciated the flattery, but I was not having it.I told Stephanie that I didn’t care if I was good at being in Congress. I did not want to “find a way” or “juggle” or “get creative.” I was so tired that I couldn’t see straight. I didn’t want to hear that I’d “laugh about it later” or that “maybe yoga” would help me relax, or any of the other