Warren for Senate: [link removed]

12 years
ago on this day, I officially launched a campaign to represent
Massachusetts in the U.S. Senate. 

I want to share the story of how I came to that decision. [ [link removed] ]Please read
it below, and if you’re able, please pitch in $28 or anything you can to
help me win my re-election so I can keep fighting in the Senate. This
campaign started out as a grassroots-powered movement, and it still is
today.

After we launched the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, Republicans
vowed to block my nomination to serve as the agency’s first director. So
people in the media all asked a version of the same question: What would I
do next? 

I told everyone the same thing: I’m taking a trip to Legoland. And that’s
exactly what my husband Bruce and I did with our kids and grandkids. 

Meanwhile people continued to talk about my next move. The press and
online media were quick to offer opinions: She should run! She shouldn’t
run! Plenty of people called my house, emailed advice, or stopped me on
the street: Buy new glasses! Change your hair! Get married! (I was pretty
crazy about my current husband at the time...) 

I got a call from a local party official. “Get your name out there,” he
said enthusiastically. “Stir things up!” He also added, “Of course, I
don’t think you’ll win. But don’t take it personally.”

Run and lose. Gee, that sounded like fun, I thought. Maybe I’d do that
right after I slammed my fingers in a car door.

But I figured he had a point. If I jumped in, it would be a tough, tough
fight. I’d be running against a popular Republican incumbent, who had
developed a reputation as a moderate and bipartisan Republican, had high
approval ratings, and already had nearly $10 million in the bank. He had
been dubbed one of “Wall Street’s Favorite Congressmen,” with all the
promise of future fundraising that the title implied. 

I had never run for any office, let alone a highly contested national
office like this one. Women had historically not done well in statewide
races in Massachusetts, and the last time I had raised money was when I’d
organized a ferocious effort to help my daughter’s Brownie troop sell more
cookies than any other troop in town. 

And yet…I felt that there was so much at stake in this election. I’d spent
nearly twenty years fighting for the middle class, and I’d seen millions
of working families go over the economic cliff — and it was getting worse.
I wondered what kind of country my grandchildren would grow up in. What if
the conservatives and the big banks and the big-time CEOs got their way,
and Washington kept helping the rich and powerful to get richer and more
powerful? Could I really stand on the sidelines and stay out of this
fight?

I decided to dip my toe in the water, just to find out whether I could do
even the simplest sort of campaigning. I started meeting with small groups
of people in [ [link removed] ]living rooms and backyards around the state.

At one gathering in downtown New Bedford, I spoke with a group about the
hollowing out of America’s middle class and about how it would get worse
if the Republicans in Congress kept cutting back on our investments.

Afterwards, a woman who appeared to be in her mid-fifties walked over to
me and said, “I walked two miles to get here.”

Okay, she had my attention.

“I walked because I don’t have a car that runs. I don’t have a car that
runs because I don’t have a job,” she explained. 

As we stood facing each other, she laid out her life in just a few
sentences: “I have two master’s degrees. I’m smart. I taught myself
computer programming. I’ve been out of work for a year and a half. I’ve
applied, I’ve volunteered, I’ve gone everywhere, but nothing…I don’t know
if I’m ever going to get a real job again.”

I held out both hands and she took them.

“I’m here because I’m running out of hope,” she continued. “I’ve read
about you for a long time, and I’m here to see you in person, to tell you
that I need you, and I want you to fight for me. I don’t care how hard it
gets, I want to know that you are going to fight.” 

I looked back at her and said, “Yes, I’ll fight.”

I didn’t really think about the size of the commitment I was making or
what it would cost me or Bruce or the rest of our family. I simply
thought, I can’t stand here and cry. And I can’t just walk out on her. She
asked for a commitment, and I made it. Stand and fight — there was nothing
else to say and nothing else to do.

That night, while Bruce and I walked our dog, the enormity of that meeting
in New Bedford began to sink in. 

No public fanfare and no announcements in the papers, but I had promised
to run for the U.S. Senate.

I took a few more weeks to do some hard thinking and come to a final,
official decision, but my heart was already in. And once I was in, I knew
that the only way I could do anyone any good was to win — so I intended to
win.

A few weeks later, I officially launched our campaign and declared war on
the rich. Well, not really that last part. But the right-wing blogs and
Fox News sure made it sound as though I would soon be storming the
mansions of Fifth Avenue.

I’ve never forgotten about that woman from New Bedford. Her story was just
one of many that inspired me to join this fight, but it was the one that
pushed me to officially run. I know that there are many, many others who
share her story, and I want you to know that you still have my commitment
to fight for you. Always have, and always will.

Thank you for reading, and thank you to the volunteers, donors, and
zillion boxes of Dunkin’ Donuts for making this possible. [ [link removed] ]If — and only
if — you’re able to, please make a contribution of $28 or anything you can
today to power this next campaign and keep making progress together.



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From the bottom of my heart, thanks for being a part of this — whether
you’ve been around for the past 12 years or the past 12 hours.  

Elizabeth



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