Narrator: In 1991, the nation was transfixed by the Senate Judiciary Committee hearings for Supreme Court nominee Clarence Thomas. When law professor Anita Hill came forward with allegations of sexual harassment, she was met not with a serious inquiry, but with a televised grilling by an all-male panel that seemed dismissive and contemptuous. Watching from home, women across America felt a surge of fury and helplessness. Senator Barbara Mikulski captured the mood perfectly, stating that the message sent to victims was that "nobody is going to take you seriously, not even the United States Senate." That collective anger became a political catalyst. The following year, 1992, was dubbed the "Year of the Woman," as a record number of women ran for—and won—seats in Congress, fundamentally altering the face of power. This pivotal moment reveals a core truth about political change: it is often born from frustration, and it requires individuals to step up and demand a seat at the table.

In her book, Run to Win: Lessons in Leadership for Women Changing the World, Stephanie Schriock, former president of EMILY's List, provides a practical and inspiring guide for women who feel that same call to action. Drawing on decades of experience on the front lines of American politics, Schriock demystifies the process of seeking leadership, arguing that the skills learned on the campaign trail are essential tools for anyone, in any field, who wants to change the world.

Narrator: Before any campaign can begin, a candidate must answer a fundamental question: why are you running? Schriock explains that this motivation is the fuel that will sustain a leader through the grueling, often thankless, work of a campaign. This motivation can be external, sparked by a major event, or internal, driven by a specific problem a candidate feels compelled to solve.

The 1991 Anita Hill hearings serve as a powerful example of an external spark. The sight of an all-male panel questioning Hill’s credibility ignited a movement. Women were not just angry; they were motivated. They channeled that outrage into action, leading to the "Year of the Woman" in 1992, which saw a historic number of women elected to Congress. They ran because the system had failed to represent them, and they were determined to fix it.

Motivation can also be deeply personal and internal. Lauren Underwood, a nurse who had worked in the Obama administration on the Affordable Care Act, was driven to run for Congress in 2018 for a very specific reason. Her local Republican congressman had promised to protect coverage for people with preexisting conditions, but then voted for a bill that threatened it. For Underwood, who has a heart condition, this was not an abstract policy debate; it was a personal betrayal. That broken promise became the central pillar of her campaign, fueling her successful bid to unseat the incumbent and become the youngest African American woman to serve in Congress.

Narrator: For decades, an unwritten rulebook dictated how women in politics should behave. To be seen as "serious," they often had to conform to a masculine template, altering their appearance and suppressing their authentic selves. Schriock argues that this era is over. The key to success now is to break those rules and run as your authentic self.

In the 1990s, a candidate like Mary Rieder in Minnesota was advised to cut her hair, change her glasses, and wear a strict uniform of pantsuits to appear viable. Today, that conformity has been replaced by a celebration of individuality. When Deb Haaland, one of the first Native American women elected to Congress, was sworn in, she wore a traditional Pueblo dress, a powerful statement of her heritage and identity. Similarly, MJ Hegar, a combat veteran running for Congress in Texas, didn't hide the tattoos on her arms; she featured them in a campaign ad, explaining they covered shrapnel scars from when her helicopter was shot down in Afghanistan. These women understood that what makes them different is not a liability, but a source of strength. As Schriock notes, if the system has never seen someone like you in power, "it’s a sure sign they need you."

Narrator: In an era where voters crave connection and authenticity, a leader’s personal story is their most powerful political tool. Schriock emphasizes that a great story is not about having the most dramatic life, but about effectively communicating one’s values and vision. She breaks down effective storytelling into four parts: the Situation (the problem), the Reaction (what you did about it), the Resolve (how your experience can help others), and the Ask (what you need people to do).

Senator Amy Klobuchar masterfully deployed this framework in a presidential debate. Asked about a time she showed resilience, she didn't give a generic answer. She told the story of her newborn daughter being seriously ill in the hospital. At the time, insurance rules forced her to be discharged after just 24 hours. The situation was a new mother being separated from her sick child. Her reaction was to fight, as a private citizen, to pass one of the first laws in the country guaranteeing a 48-hour hospital stay for new mothers. Her resolve was that this experience showed her grit and ability to get things done. Her ask was for voters to trust her to bring that same determination to the White House. This story was far more effective than any policy paper because it was personal, relatable, and demonstrated her character in action.

Narrator: No one changes the world alone. Schriock stresses that building a strong, diverse, and loyal team is non-negotiable for success. This team extends beyond paid staff to include a personal support system of family, friends, and mentors who can provide honest feedback and emotional grounding.

This principle is vividly illustrated by the women elected to Congress in recent years. "The Squad"—Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Ilhan Omar, Ayanna Pressley, and Rashida Tlaib—found strength in their solidarity, supporting one another publicly against intense political attacks. Similarly, a group of congresswomen with national security backgrounds, nicknamed "The Badasses," formed a tight-knit support network. They relied on a group text chain to navigate the pressures of their first term, from campaigning to the impeachment investigation. These groups demonstrate that a strong team provides not just strategic support but also the psychological resilience needed to withstand the pressures of public life. As Schriock puts it, loyalty is not demanded; it is earned through mutual respect and support.

Narrator: Many people, especially women, are conditioned to avoid asking for things, whether it's money, a promotion, or help. Schriock argues that learning how to "make the ask" is one of the most critical skills for any leader. This isn't just about fundraising; it's about advocating for yourself and your vision.

Schriock shares a personal story of her own failure to ask. As the high-performing finance director for Howard Dean's presidential campaign, she was effectively doing the work of a deputy campaign manager but never asked for the title. She assumed her hard work would be recognized and rewarded, but it wasn't. She learned a hard lesson: you have to ask for what you deserve. She later applied this lesson when she boldly made the case for herself to manage Jon Tester's long-shot Senate race in Montana, a job she won, leading to a major political upset.

The book also highlights that asking is about giving others the opportunity to participate. The legendary House Speaker Tip O'Neill once learned this from his neighbor, Mrs. O'Brien. After an election, he discovered she had only voted for him because another candidate had asked, while he had assumed her support. Her simple explanation—"People like to be asked"—is a timeless lesson in politics and in life.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from Run to Win is that leadership is not a title you are given, but a choice you make. It is the decision to stop complaining and start doing, to transform personal frustration into public action, and to build the skills, team, and resilience necessary to see that action through. The path isn't easy—it requires a thick skin, a joyful spirit, and the courage to ask for what you need.

Stephanie Schriock’s work is more than a political playbook; it’s a call to arms for a new generation of leaders. It challenges us to look beyond the traditional images of power and recognize the leader within ourselves. The final, lingering question the book leaves with its audience is not just for those considering a political career, but for everyone: You have power. How are you going to use it?