A few years ago, when the U.S. Senate was considering the nomination of Jeff Sessions as attorney general under President Trump, Elizabeth Warren started reading into the record some comments that impugned the character of the nominee. In particular, she quoted from a letter written by Coretta Scott King that accused Sessions of trying to prevent Black citizens from voting.

Then Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell interrupted her, citing Rule 19 of the Code of Conduct, which prevented any senator from imputing to any other senator, conduct unbecoming. Warren objected, demanded the right to continue reading into the record, and was allowed to finish. But the media did what the media often does, and misrepresented the story.

It turned into some victorious Henry V moment whereby the senator from Massachusetts stared down the enemy with soaring rhetoric — borrowed from someone else, by the way — to rally the troops. And that gave way to an entire cottage industry of shirts, hats, mugs and dolls with the tagline #ShePersisted.

I remember thinking it was hilarious.

Women have been told that we are dismissed in society, that our words do not matter, that we must struggle to be heard. I suppose that in some environments that is the case, but overall there are few women who don’t know how to get the message across.

The ones who complain about being silenced are the ones who are not effective communicators, which brings me to Vice President Kamala Harris.

The other day at a rally in Detroit, Harris was talking to the crowd about the economy and all the horrible things that Trump would do if he were elected again. She received a good deal of applause because there is an undeniable amount of enthusiasm out there for her candidacy now that President Biden has dropped out—at least right now before the wheels fall off the Tim Walz bus—her VP choice.

At the rally, anti-Israel protesters started chanting, and this was Harris’ response: “You know what? If you want Donald Trump to win, then say that. Otherwise, I’m speaking.” It was said in her trademark nasal whine, which gave it a very-substitute-teacher-ish effect, as in “I’m Miss Harris, and I’m here at the blackboard, and I am speaking, so simmer down.”

I recognize the tone and the words. I used the tone quite often as a teacher, including the period that I taught at an all-boys school on the Main Line. I was rather insecure of my authority, because I was in my late 20s, very petite and one of only three women on the faculty. On Friday afternoons, I had a class of AP French students, and our classroom had a big window that looked out onto the driveway in front of the school. Halfway through the class, students from a nearby girls’ school would drive up in their cars and flip their hair and do the things that girls do in order to get attention.

Many of the boys would be looking out the window, clearly more engaged in the action outside than what Mademoiselle Fleurs had to say about conjugating the subjunctive. At one point, I had to put down the chalk and say, in a tone about as whiny and annoying as Kamala, “Boys, I am talking. The only female you should be paying attention to right now is me. Otherwise, you will be paying attention to me tomorrow, at detention.”

I remember going home and thinking that I’d shown a definite lack of gravitas. It’s a trap so many women fall into. We think that we need to demand respect when it should be earned. And that’s what I see in Harris. It might be a stylistic thing, but it matters.

We are being told how wonderful it will be to have a woman, especially a woman of color, at the head of government. We are told that she is competent, fearless and intelligent. And even if we disagree with her policies — and so many of us do because they are quite radical when you examine them — we are supposed to at least respect the historic nature of her campaign. She is woman, hear her roar.

But I think about how Trump would react in the same situation, and I know that he wouldn’t whine “Hey I’m talking.” He’d insult, he’d push on, he’d make a joke, he might even demand that the person be beaten up. But he wouldn’t wag his finger and pout. So my advice for the lady who wants to be president is to stop acting like an annoyed AP French teacher on a Friday afternoon.

Copyright 2024 Christine Flowers, distributed exclusively by Cagle Cartoons newspaper syndicate. Flowers is an attorney and a columnist for the Delaware County Daily Times, and can be reached at cflowers1961@gmail.com.