The late Senator
Dianne Feinstein was my Mayor. I’m a native
San Franciscan who cut her political chops in
my home city. I often spent time with our
Mayor and appreciate her grace and kindness.
We didn’t see the world the same way and
occasionally crossed swords around race
matters. Still, I always respected her and how
she managed policy and politics. And I also
appreciated the hurdles she had to clear as
the first woman mayor of San Francisco. Her
life is a litany of firsts.
She rose to the
mayoralty amid the crisis sparked by the
assassination of her predecessor, George
Moscone, and a colleague, Harvey Milk. She led
a city that mourned our only openly gay member
of the Board of Supervisors and a beloved
mayor. She comported herself with a restrained
brilliance, saying the right thing every time
and flashing her somber smile as she spoke. I
will never forget a meeting in her office
where my cold had me hacking through it. I
don’t remember the issue we disagreed on, but
I remember having one of her aides bring me a
cup of tea with honey to help my throat.
As Mayor, she
revived our tourist-attracting cable cars and
(with Nancy Pelosi) brought the 1984
Democratic convention to San Francisco. That
was quite a convention where Rev. Jesse
Jackson threw down with a policy speech that
included lines like, “I’d rather have
Roosevelt in a wheelchair than Reagan on a
horse,” and the critical self-revealing, “God
ain’t finished with me yet.” Jackson wasn’t
nominated, but he launched hundreds of
political careers. Feinstein and Pelosi were
responsible for providing a backdrop to his
message.
Dianne Feinstein
was part of the 1992 “Year of the Woman,” the
year after Anita Hill endured grueling
treatment by the Senate Judiciary Committee.
Many knew that there was not a single woman on
that committee, and, indeed, Senator Patty
Murray (D-WA) said she was inspired to run for
the Senate as a “mom in tennis shoes” after
that hearing. In November, 1992, four new
women were elected to the United States
Senate, a record number that included Senator
Feinstein, Carol Moseley Braun (IL), Barbara
Boxer (CA), and Patty Murray. Because this
critical mass of women was elected, the Senate
had to create a women’s restroom, and it took
some struggle for women to wear pants on the
Senate floor.
Feinstein’s
contributions to this Senate were innumerable,
with one of the most important being her 1994
legislation to ban assault weapons. That
legislation expired in 2014, and the results
of its expiration scream from daily headlines.
Dianne Feinstein saved lives. With her Senate
career forged out of tragedy, she was
profoundly aware of the impact that assault
(and other) weapons could have on people’s
lives, especially the lives of children.
Feinstein’s Senate
career partly happened because many women
chafed at how the Senate Judiciary Committee
treated Anita Hill. Thus, it was poetic
justice that Feinstein became the ranking
Democrat in the Senate Judiciary Committee.
She was the first woman to have that role. She
worked on several things, including
immigration, civil rights, national security,
and the courts. Her Senate career is an array
of firsts, with roles in intelligence and
appropriations, among others. She was chair of
the Appropriations Subcommittee on Energy and
Water Development. A staff memo on her
transition reminds us that she “secured
billions of dollars for California
communities, including critical
transportation, water supply, and federal
building projects.” She ensured that federal
wildland firefighters earned higher salaries
and worked to improve California’s water
infrastructure.
Dozens of published
bios and obituaries will highlight Feinstein’s
many legislative accomplishments. Many will
describe her as an “icon” or “role model” and
an inspirational woman who shattered the glass
ceiling with grit and grace. She was
persistent, resilient, visionary,
collaborative, brilliant, and awe-inspiring.
In her later years, she was physically
diminished, but that did not lessen her
impact. I will miss Dianne Feinstein, the
gentle warrior whose passionate love for her
home state of California was a blessing to us
all.
Many of us who stand with Barbara Lee chafe at Governor
Gavin Newsom’s failure to appoint
Congresswoman Lee. Still, we all have high
hopes and wish much success for Laphonza
Butler, his selection. Governor Newsom’s
appointment checks his box to appoint a Black
woman to the next open seat in the Senate. His
refusal to hear the many who asked him to
appoint Congresswoman Lee will have
ramifications in the long run. What might
Dianne Feinstein have done had she been
governor? Food for thought.
