This is a modified version of the original story by Sameea Kamal and Ariel Gans for use in classrooms.

A gift or a curse? 

For Democrat Angelique Ashby, running as a “women’s advocate” in a heated state Senate race in Sacramento might be a little of both.

Dave Jones is also a Democrat. He is running against Ashby. He went to court to block Ashby from using “women’s advocate” as her ballot designation under her name. His lawyers argued that it wasn’t her job and so it should not appear under her name.

Jones won his argument. But Ashby also benefited. The lawsuit fired up some of her supporters and prompted a firestorm on social media. Sacramento County hasn’t sent a woman to the Legislature since 2014.

“If you needed a reminder, you got one today. Women are still marginalized and easily dismissed,” she said in a statement on the ballot designation decision. “But I refuse to accept that as our fate. Let this be a rallying cry. Elect more women.”

The Nov. 8 election presents a big opportunity for women. The number of female legislators could rise above the current record of 39 of 120 seats. 

The overturning of Roe vs. Wade has generated more energy among female voters. It also highlighted the importance of having women in policy-making roles.

Still, many women running for the Legislature for the first time face similar barriers to any political newcomer. They have smaller support networks and difficulty fundraising. In some cases, they experience targeted attacks.

Despite clinching a spot on the November ballot in one of the most-watched Assembly races this year, Redwood City Mayor Giselle Hale dropped out six weeks after the June primary, shocking the California political world. 

She blamed attack ads funded by real estate and apartment associations, which were supporting Diane Papan, the deputy mayor of San Mateo.

Hale said that while she could compartmentalize comparisons to Donald Trump and manipulations of her image, she couldn’t expect the same of her five-year-old daughter, who regularly saw the ads while watching kids’ YouTube shows, or her eight-year-old daughter, whose classmate brought a negative campaign mailer to school.​

After seeing her experience, more than a dozen women told her they would never run for office, Hale said. “People were terrified to run after watching my race,” she said in an interview.

Aisha Wahab, a Hayward City Council member running against Fremont Mayor Lily Mei for a state Senate seat representing Alameda and Santa Clara counties, says that as a woman of color, and as a relatively younger public official, she faces a lot of second-guessing from the public, as well as from her own community. 

Female candidates have to answer questions about whether they’re qualified, competent, emotionally stable and “dedicated enough,” she said. 

“Men don’t necessarily have to do that,” Wahab said. “Women know they have a balancing act — being firm and being strong and competent, but also soft and compassionate and sensitive.”

A look at the numbers

Today, women hold 24 out of 80 seats in the state Assembly and 15 out of 40 in the Senate. At 32.5%, that’s slightly above the average of 31.1% for legislatures around the country.

But that representation is far below parity, since half of Californians and a majority of California voters are women. 

Of the 100 legislative seats on the Nov. 8 ballot, women are guaranteed to win 19 of them, because the top two candidates from the June primary are both women. Six female state senators aren’t up for election this year and will join them. 

But that would still be 15 short of gender parity.

In 2022, California boasts several “first females” in statewide offices: Lt. Gov Eleni Kounalakis is the first woman elected to that office, while Treasurer Fiona Ma and Controller Betty Yee are the first women of color in those positions. Yet, in its 172 years, progressive California is one of 19 states that has never had a female governor.

Women have made some gains in policymaking, including on issues such as education, health and domestic violence. This past session, they helped lead a legislative effort to reduce plastic pollution.

“If you don’t have women at the negotiating table, these policy issues don’t get to see the light of day,” said Ivy Cargile, a political science professor at California State University, Bakersfield. “These voices don’t get heard and they continue to be marginalized.”

Not just gender

Nationally, not all women’s representation is increasing at the same rate: Non-white women face greater disparities in representation than white women, despite their growing numbers. 

In California, 24 of the 39 members of the Legislative’s Women’s Caucus are women of color. Based on a review of its member list, there has been a dramatic increase in representation of women of color since 2012. 

But the total number doesn’t tell the whole story: There’s only one Black woman in the Senate, and only one Asian American woman in the Legislature. In 2014, there were only three Latina legislators, so they got together to help recruit more. Now, that number is 20.

Is the future female?

To increase representation in California, Cargile said that women must be “ready in the pipeline.”

Some changes to running for office and serving in office could help make that happen.

Hale, the state Assembly candidate who dropped out, pointed out that, for women with young children, campaigning can be very difficult. It wasn’t until 2019 that California candidates were allowed to use campaign funds on some childcare expenses.

“It’s not only a sacrifice of time with your children, it’s a huge sacrifice of your resources and your money,” Hale said. 

She also suggested allowing more flexibility in the hours and raising legislators’ pay.

Rhonda Shader, a Republican running in an Orange County state Senate race, said while it takes “a lot of courage” to run for office, government works best “when we all take a turn.”

“Somebody else needs to step up,” she said.

Ashby is trying. At her rally, some supporters cited her support for equal pay and her mentorship of young women.  

“She’s not a politician to us. She’s a community member and a mom… interested in making Sacramento better,” said Pamela Santich, 63, a Sacramento resident.