Hi, my name’s Jamie Jefferson and I’m running to represent you in Congress next year.
I’m not just asking for your vote this November, I’m asking for you to scrutinize my life and make judgments about me based on my adherence to your opinions on what is the “right” way to be a woman in public.
And you’re doing a terrific job already—we’re really in this together, and I want you to know I’m listening.
Recent surveys have told my campaign that you want a representative with a keen understanding of the law. I have great news: I’m actually a law professor with two—that’s right, two!—Ivy League degrees.
I’ve amassed a large collection of blazers that are cut so wide and high that you’ll forget I have human breasts.
You want a hard worker, but don’t worry, I promise not to mention my time as a working mother because I know that really irks 39% of you.
At town halls across the district, you’ve said you want to see your representative caring about the environment, fighting for seniors, and looking out for our kids. Well, if you’ve seen my latest ad, you know that I can walk through tree-lined parks with old people and pass out granola bars to young people at nondescript social gatherings. I also have family members of all ages and we smile a lot when we get together for meals at my mom’s.
Didn’t that make you forget how off-putting my Ivy-League degrees are?
Some of you have commented on social media asking, “Why are you an angry lesbian who’s trying to take a nice man’s place at the Congress? Also, fat.”
Not that there’s anything wrong with anything you pointed out, but if you’d scrolled down, you would have seen a picture of me with my husband, Eric, and an explanation of why I’m running. I’ve lived in this district for 20 years and I assure you I am exactly what you said you wanted.
Others have written to my campaign saying I should “not abandon my children,” or that I’m “a barren harpy who doesn’t look good in turquoise.”
I hear you, people of the third district, and I have good news. My two children, whose names I will not tell you, are both in college and would really prefer if I spent less time liking their Facebook statuses or asking how their Econ finals went.
Don’t you feel more at ease now?
As for the turquoise, point taken, Mitchell L. Kerry. Our polling confirms what you said first—people find me off-putting in that color. I hear you, and I’m with you, Mitchell. I’ll burn that cardigan.
I know 46% of you are thinking “a lady congressman? I don’t want to be attracted to my congress-man.” But don’t worry—I’ve amassed a large collection of blazers that are cut so wide and high that you’ll forget I have human breasts.
Aren’t I sounding much better now?
Not literally sounding better, I know, because a quarter of you have noted my natural speaking voice sounds “shrill,” “uncomfortable,” and “like your mother-in-law.”
If I weren’t running to represent you in Congress, I might say that that is hurtful, but I am running to represent you in Congress so instead, I will tell you that I’ve started smoking two packs a day in an effort to lower my vocal register. I’m hoping that after a few months you’ll start to be less pained by the way my voice originally sounded.
Sorry it’ll take so long!
Yes, I’ll have a higher risk of lung cancer, and down the road I may miss some committee votes while I’m outside on smoke breaks, but I’m willing to put my neck on the line for my constituents.
I will fight for you, even if that means fighting myself. And it often feels like I am!
Recently, I was out talking to folks at the Midway Diner and a man named Frank asked how I, a law professor who lectures on public policy and regularly appears as an expert on the news and in print, would possibly be able to go toe-to-toe with the tough-talking, sharp guys in Congress. Frank wanted to know what I would do if one of my colleagues tried to torpedo a bill I introduced to help people in our area.
And what I told Frank is something I want you all to hear: If anyone tries to stand in the way of me passing legislation to take better care of the people of the third district—and Americans as a whole—I will kick them in the balls. It’s something I’ve done on train platforms, in bars, and in public parks. And I’m willing to do it in the halls of Congress too.
It’s almost as if my entire life has been leading up to this moment.
You might be asking, “But Jamie, what if it’s a woman standing in the way of your bill? Then what?” Don’t worry, statistically that’s just not likely. Men comprise 80% of Congress, so chances are pretty good that whoever it is that’s trying to mess with my bill has sad, old balls. And I will gladly kick them because polling shows you want a “real ball buster” in Washington next year.
I’ve heard you loud and clear, third congressional district: You want a law-knowing, senior-loving, non-lesbian, non-barren, non-turquoise wearing, non-woman-sounding member of Congress who will fight for you. And I am just the blazer-wearing, chain-smoking, ball-kicking person you said you wanted.
I’m asking you to look past my experience and expertise and breasts and voice and just vote with your head on this one.
Sorry, I think I’m out of time. So sorry! Please, vote for me in November. I’m exactly what you wanted me to be.