Though political rivals and some male colleagues at first
dismissed her as “little Patsy,” Pat Schroeder became the
forceful doyenne of American liberals on issues ranging from
arms control to women’s reproductive rights during her 24-year House career. Congresswoman Schroeder’s biting wit
and political barbs—from her seat on the Armed Services
Committee, she once told Pentagon officials that if they were
women, they would always be pregnant because they never
said “no”—helped to make her a household name and blazed
a trail for a new generation of women onto Capitol Hill.1
Patricia Scott was born in Portland, Oregon, on July 30,
1940, daughter of Lee Scott, an aviation insurance salesman,
and Bernice Scott, a public school teacher. “When I was
growing up,” Schroeder recalled, “my father was always
interested in politics and he talked about it. The dinner
table conversations were always very vivid about what was
going on.”2 Her great-grandfather had served alongside
William Jennings Bryan in the Nebraska legislature, lending
a reform-populist cast to her political heritage. As part of
a military family that moved from post to post, she was
raised in Texas, Ohio, and Iowa. Pat Scott earned a pilot’s
license and operated her own flying service to pay her college
tuition. She graduated from the University of Minnesota in
1961, a member of Phi Beta Kappa majoring in philosophy,
history, and political science. She earned a JD from Harvard
Law School in 1964, though, as one of just 15 women in a
class of more than 500, she felt “submerged in sexism.”3 On
August 18, 1962, she married a law school classmate, James
Schroeder, and the couple moved to Denver, eventually
rearing two children: Scott and Jamie.4 While in law
school, a professor told Schroeder that most corporations
shunned women lawyers, so she took a job with the
federal government for two years as a field attorney for
the National Labor Relations Board. She later moved into
private practice, taught law, and volunteered as counsel for
Planned Parenthood.
Schroeder, at her husband’s encouragement, entered
the 1972 race for the predominantly Democratic but
conservative congressional district encompassing most of
Colorado’s capital city of Denver. “I was so frustrated when
I ran,” Schroeder remarked. “I was so angry about the
Vietnam War. I was so angry about all the different things
that were happening. And I ran because I thought, ‘Well,
somebody’s got to stand up and say something about this.’”5
Running without the support of the state Democratic Party
or the Democratic National Committee who considered
her candidacy a “fluke,” Schroeder ran what she described
as a “radical” campaign.6 “Well, because we had no advice
from the powers that be, we were kind of on our own,” she
recalled. “So, for most of the campaign, we ran it out of
our basement.”7 Schroeder’s grassroots campaign seemed as
overmatched as her political idol, Adlai Ewing Stevenson III;
she believed she would “talk sense to the American people
and lose.”8 Voters, however, embraced her antiwar, women’s
rights message. She beat out her Democratic primary
opponent Clarence Decker by 4,000 votes and, in the
general election, defeated first-term incumbent Republican
James Douglas (Mike) McKevitt with 52 percent of the
vote. Schroeder was the first woman elected to Congress
from Colorado, a state that had passed women’s suffrage
in 1893.9 “When I announced for Congress,” Schroeder
later recalled when asked about the role of gender in her
campaign, “the newspaper said, ‘Denver housewife runs
for Congress.’ They didn’t even put my name in. I kept
thinking, ‘Well, yes, I’m a housewife, but I’m also a Harvard
lawyer . . . so it was really a problem from day one.”10 In her
subsequent 11 elections, she rarely faced serious opposition,
typically garnering more than 60 percent of the vote.11
Claiming her seat in Congress proved thornier than
the campaign. One of only 14 women in the House of
Representatives, Schroeder confronted a male-dominated
institution that frowned not only on her feminist agenda
but on her mere presence.12 “The image was kind of, men
came here on dangerous sailing ships, but we arrived
on cruise ships, getting our nails done,” she recalled.13
One male colleague remarked, “I don’t understand why
you are here. This place is about Chivas Regal, $1,000
bills, beautiful women, and Lear jets. Why did you
come?”14 Another asked how she could be a mother of
two small children and a Member of Congress at the same
time. She replied, “I have a brain and a uterus and I use
both.”15 Still another male colleague sneered, “I hope you
aren’t going to be a skinny Bella Abzug!”16
As the second-youngest woman ever elected to Congress
(her Harvard Law School classmate Elizabeth Holtzman
was the youngest, at 31) and the 32-year-old mother of a
six-and a two-year-old, Schroeder received considerable
attention from the media, her congressional colleagues, and
the general public. Few other women had served in Congress
while caring for such young children, and Schroeder did
little to hide the fact that she was juggling two occupations,
politician and mother. Known to keep diapers in her bag
while on the floor of the House and crayons on her office
coffee table, she had no patience for criticism about her
choice to undertake two careers. “One of the problems with
being a working mother, whether you’re a Congresswoman
or a stenographer or whatever, is that everybody feels
perfectly free to come and tell you what they think: ‘I think
what you’re doing to your children is terrible.’ ‘I think you
should be home.’ They don’t do that to men.”17 Although
Schroeder defended her decision to run for political office
while caring for her children, she did harbor some doubts
early in her career. She recalled that shortly before beginning
her first day on the job, she pondered, “My gosh, what’s
a mother like me doing here? I’m about to be sworn into
Congress and I haven’t even potty-trained my daughter.”18
Schroeder received a rude introduction to the power of
entrenched committee chairmen. She sought and earned
a seat on the all-male Armed Services Committee because,
according to the newly elected Congresswoman, “When
men talk about defense, they always claim to be protecting
women and children, but they never ask the women and
children what they think.”19 Eager to identify and curb
defense appropriations which, at the time, totaled nearly
40 percent of the national budget, Schroeder represented
a minority viewpoint on the conservative Armed Services
Committee.20 Infuriated that a woman and an African
American (Ronald V. Dellums of California) sat on his
committee despite his objections, Chairman Felix Edward
Hébert of Louisiana, a Dixiecrat and 30-year veteran of
Congress, sought to marginalize them on the committee.
Schroeder recalled that Hébert lamented, “This is the worst
thing that’s ever happened. It’s not even worth running for
Congress any more. They’ve taken away all your power.
There’s nothing left. However, I still have the power to
determine how many seats are at the dais, and these two
people are only worth half of the rest of my Members, so
they’re getting one chair.”21 Dellums later commented that
he and Schroeder acted as if sharing a chair was “the most
normal thing in the world,” in an effort to undermine
Hébert’s obvious attempt to make them feel unwanted.
When Schroeder sought a spot on a delegation to a Strategic
Arms Limitation Treaty disarmament conference on chemical
warfare, Hébert declined her request noting, “I wouldn’t send
you to represent this committee in a dogfight.”22 Undeterred,
Schroeder and her Democratic Caucus colleagues managed
to oust Hébert in 1975, during the height of congressional
reform efforts which included rules changes that weakened
the power of long-standing committee leaders. Schroeder
remained on the panel throughout her congressional career.
Representative Schroeder quickly became a driving force
in the 1970s and 1980s as Democrats sought to rein in
Cold War expenditures. In unison with a more like-minded
Armed Services chairman, Leslie Aspin of Wisconsin,
she fostered an era of Democratic defense budgets that,
in Schroeder’s estimate, supported “reasonable strength”
rather than “unreasonable redundancy.”23 She also asserted
herself as a major advocate for arms control, opposing,
among other programs, the MX (“Missile Experimental”)
program. Arguing against the philosophy that the U.S. Air
Force’s mobile MX rockets would serve as a deterrent to
nuclear war, Schroeder suggested instead that “everyone in
the world would be more impressed if we didn’t deploy the
weapon and showed common sense.”24 Schroeder worked
to improve benefits, health care, and living conditions for
military personnel, crafting the 1985 Military Family Act
and eventually chairing the Subcommittee on Military
Installations. Toward the end of her career, she convinced
the Armed Services Committee to recommend that women
be allowed to fly combat missions.25 In 1991 Schroeder
spearheaded demands for reform in the military after two
highly publicized sexual harassment scandals: the Navy
“Tailhook” and a later case involving an Army sergeant’s abuse
of female recruits. Schroeder also served as spokesperson for
those in Congress who believed that American allies should
bear more of the global defense burden.
The area in which Schroeder specialized, however, was
women’s rights and reforms affecting the family. In many
respects, she made these issues, shared by many middle-class
Americans, the blueprint for her work: women’s health care,
child rearing, expansion of Social Security benefits, and gender
equity in the workplace. She was a vocal abortion rights
advocate and a supporter of the Equal Rights Amendment
(ERA). Schroeder helped lead the charge for passage of the
ERA in her home state of Colorado with determination and
humor. “We had a group called Ladies Against Women and
we had buttons that said, ‘I’d rather be ironing,’ and ‘fiftynine
cents is enough’ . . . we always carried an ironing board
for registration, for all the people who wanted to register. And
they knew we were putting them on, but we weren’t being
disruptive, so they couldn’t throw us out.”26
In 1977 Schroeder became a founding member of the
Congressional Women’s Caucus, subsequently co-chairing
it for 10 years. She helped pass the 1978 Pregnancy Discrimination Act, which mandated that employers could
not dismiss women employees simply because they were
pregnant or deny them disability and maternity benefits. Later
she created and chaired the Select Committee on Children,
Youth and Families (which was dismantled in 1995). She also
served on the Judiciary Committee and the Post Office and
Civil Service Committee, where she eventually chaired the
Subcommittee on Civil Service. In 1993 Schroeder scored
her biggest legislative successes with the passage of the Family
and Medical Leave Act and the National Institutes of Health
Revitalization Act. For nearly a decade, she had toiled on
the Family and Medical Leave Act, which in its final form
provided job protection of up to 12 weeks of unpaid leave for
the care of a newborn, sick child, or parent.
By the late 1980s, Schroeder was one of the most
recognizable faces on Capitol Hill, battling Republicans
on military spending, reproductive rights, or workplace
reform measures. She became a master at using the media
to publicize an issue, often in staunchly partisan terms.
Schroeder dubbed President Ronald Reagan the “Teflon
President,” a reference to his popularity despite high-profile
scandals such as the Iran-Contra Affair. She chaired Colorado
Senator Gary Warren Hart’s presidential campaign in 1987
before it fell apart because of revelations of his marital
infidelities. Incensed at Hart’s behavior, Schroeder decided for
a brief time to seek the Democratic nomination for President,
promising a “rendezvous with reality” that would bring to
center the issues of underrepresented Americans.27 “In a
moment of madness, I thought, ‘All right, well I’ll run for
President.’ You know it was way too late and everything. I’d
come to my senses in the middle of the summer.”28 Schroeder
broke down while announcing her withdrawal, however,
spurring many feminists to charge her with undermining
women’s political advances with her emotional display. Those
criticisms proved spurious, since in 1992 Schroeder, as the
House’s elder stateswoman, welcomed a record number of
women elected in the “Year of the Woman.” She described
the event as an “American perestroika.”29
Despite being the longest-serving woman in the House
at the time of her retirement, Schroeder never chaired
a full committee. In line to become chair of the Post
Office and Civil Service Committee, Schroeder lost the
opportunity at a leadership position when Republicans
eliminated the panel once they gained control of the House
after a 40-year hiatus. As a Member of the minority party,
Schroeder lost much of her institutional power base when the House flipped in the 104th Congress (1995–1997).
No longer the chair of any subcommittees, she also failed
to earn the distinction of Ranking Democrat on any
House committees.30
Though she held less political influence than in previous
terms, Schroeder remained in the spotlight due to her public
disputes with newly elected Speaker of the House, Newt
Gingrich of Georgia. On opposite ends of the political
spectrum, both politicians looked to the media to promote
the interests of their respective parties and clashed on an
array of issues. Schroeder blamed Gingrich for impairing the
clout of the Congressional Women’s Caucus by dismantling
its staff, and she was one of the key players in the ethics
investigation against the Speaker during the mid-1990s.
Apparently frustrated by the growing partisan nature of the
House, Schroeder ignored the pleas of her husband and
liberal colleagues to seek re-election for a thirteenth term,
commenting, “I always said I wasn’t going to be here for
life, and life was ticking by.”31 Shortly before leaving office,
Schroeder revealed her dissatisfaction with the progression
of gender equality in Congress. “I think women still
should never kid themselves that they’re going to come [to
Congress] and be part of the team. And you ought to come
here with a very clear definition of what it is you want to
do, and that you will not be deterred. There’s a whole group
of little harpies out there every day trying to talk you out of
it. They really don’t want you pushing the envelope, because
then it becomes choose-up-sides time for everybody.”32
After a brief teaching stint at Princeton University’s
Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International
Affairs, Schroeder was appointed president and CEO of the
Association of American Publishers in June 1997. She also
was selected to lead a multi-year study for the Institute on
Civil Society to identify and promote social programs to
encourage social cohesion and restore a sense of community
for Americans.
View Record in the Biographical Directory of the U.S. Congress
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