Shortly after my Washington trip, I received a phone call from an individual whom I had met in one of my national committeeman’s offices. Nick had served many years in the GOP and risked much by meeting with me…or so I was told.

When Nick requested a meeting, I suggested a well-known public restaurant near my home. I believed that whatever this man wanted, I would be more comfortable if our meeting was in the open.

After all, I had just had the rug pulled out from under me in Washington. I was both reluctant and relieved that someone in the GOP upper echelon seemed to be having second thoughts about what had transpired.

As I walked into the restaurant, the manager of the restaurant greeted me with familiar cordiality. Nick had arrived earlier and was already seated at a table. As I walked up to him, I saw the sympathetic eyes of a father figure.

“Hi, Terri, how are you?” Nick inquired.

“I have had better days,” I responded cautiously.

At this juncture, I wasn’t sure what had happened. The Washington Gannett correspondent welcomed me warmly, but an hour later, he was telling me that my own congressional delegation had lowered the boom on any political future I thought was possible. Then he added, “Terri, I’m here because I don’t agree with what was done to you by the party. I know you. I know you to be the leader we need in Washington.”

Somewhat frustrated, I asked, “What happened? Why did these people do this?”

Nick took control of the conversation, telling me that he would not give me details on what was done and why. Then he said something that I never would have believed if I hadn’t heard it with my own ears: “You have made powerful enemies.” As I sat with my mouth agape, Nick said, “I don’t agree with any of it.”

I responded in astonishment and dismay, “How can that be?”

“Powerful enemies!” he replied. The seriousness on his face was unmistakable.

“How can that be?” I repeated. “I have been serving my people. I have acted in the best interests of the voters in northeast Wisconsin. There is nothing but solid public policy and the awards to prove it.”

Nick shrugged. “Look, I like you. You are smart, you have a lot to offer … and all I can say is that I made it known that I didn’t agree with any of this, and that is all I can do.” Nick would say nothing further on that topic.

Nick did confirm that for the past six months in the Wisconsin state legislature, when my bills had been blocked, my ideas stolen, and threats were flung against me, I had gone against the political class of the party political machine that pays for elections and puts house assembly speakers in place.

What I was experiencing was a push to oust me and to remove any threat I might pose to the GOP establishment from choosing the candidate that they wanted in the Eighth Congressional seat. The establishment had ordained that it was someone else’s turn. Questions raced through my mind all at once: Wasn’t it an open seat? Didn’t we live in the United States of America? Wasn’t I a part of a political party that embraced competition? How did I make these enemies?

It dawned on me that it was the SB1 Government Accountability Board and Ethics Bill that sealed my fate. A letter, written on GOP stationery, made it perfectly clear that I needed to back away from the issue of ethics in government. This letter warned me not to “meddle with the finance system of our elections.” Ironically, I had never taken up that issue. The memory of this letter was ironic—I did not support the Washington-based Campaign Finance Reform Act, known as the McCain-Feingold Act, Public Law 107-155, November 6, 2002. It was a bipartisan boondoggle that did little to reform anything it claimed, such as soft money financing, issue ads and curtailing contributions from government contractors. There were loopholes written for contributors that were large enough for a truck to drive through. Worse, the McCain-Feingold Act created the nefarious “527’s,” a new political entity that the American people can thank for those “hate-filled attack ads” on television, produced under the dark veil of anonymity.

I had made “powerful enemies”? He had to be kidding. The antics, five years earlier, when the sitting Republican governor was taken down in his reelection bid, were repeating themselves over again. The same players were involved. This time, however, they were caught. The intricate plan was blown. The GOP party elites sitting on the Wisconsin Congressional Committee, who had made the decision to steal the election from the voters, were, in fact, “outed”! Gannett’s Washington news correspondent Brian Tumulty had been right—in the USA TODAY offices. The press was the only guardian of freedom and democracy—when it did its job as “truth seekers.”

The indictments and convictions of the GOP and Democratic Party leaders have done little to curb the dysfunctional elite leaders in the political class and their need for power and control. Worse, many of these politicians have been rewarded with jobs and placements as lobbyists or consultants that guarantee higher-paying salaries. The only remorse these players seem to have is they were caught.

Virtue, principle, ethics and integrity must be restored internally in order to return our state houses and our nation’s Capitol back to the people in the cities, farmlands and hills across this country. Once we discover that choices in our own behaviors and in our principles are in our hands, we can get back to the business of serving others and strengthening the democracy envisioned by our forefathers. Maybe that seems like our conclusion. Maybe it seems as though restoring order internally will serve as our final act to put things right again. But in reality, this is merely our beginning.

CHAPTER SUMMARY

• In-party politics can have just as much impact as intra-party politics.
• Going against one’s party leaders and the political class may have devastating effects on a political career.

“Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power”

 

—Abraham Lincoln

….To continue reading this book, get your copy of “What Sex is a Republican in paperback or Kindle edition on Amazon.

About the Author:

Terri McCormick is an author, policy expert, educator, and former state representative to the Wisconsin State Legislature. Today, she offers her expertise in public and government relations through McCormick Dawson CPG Ltd., a trusted consultancy of independent contractors.

Ms. McCormick serves as president and CEO of the company, drawing from more than two decades of professional experience, a strong educational foundation, a host of industry-related publications, and a multitude of accolades, awards and formal recognitions. Holding a Master of Arts in administrative leadership from Marian University, and a Bachelor of Science in political science and public administration from the University of Wisconsin, Ms. McCormick received both degrees with high honors.

“What Sex is a Republican?” is sold on Amazon in both the paperback edition as well as Kindle edition.  Read reviews on Amazon here.

Some would call the notion of preprimary electioneering a stereotype of a political bygone era of cronyism and backroom deals reminiscent of the late 1800s and turn of the twentieth century.

The image is clear—party bosses and career politicians, sitting in leather chairs in dark rooms, with the shades pulled down, smoking cigars, handpicking their candidate. Yet this scenario, one hundred years later, appears to be part of a cycle that repeats itself when “we the people” are not engaged in our own government.

As a candidate for the United States Congress in January 2006, I began the usual exploratory committee comprising community leaders, veterans, friends, business leaders and education leaders. As the founder of the charter school movement in Wisconsin twelve years earlier, I decided to make the historic announcement of my bid for Congress at a charter school. Once I had thrown my hat into the congressional race, I planned a trip to visit with party leaders in Washington DC, meeting with the National Republican Campaign Committee (NRCC) to seek their help and advice on the process. Yet when I arrived in Washington, things were already decided. In an unusual twist, I was given one story by the NRCC and another story by a Washington news correspondent.

I had arranged for a lunch meeting with Brian Tumulty a Washington news correspondent for Gannett, a leading news and information company that publishes, among many newspapers, USA TODAY. Our conversation spanned the topics of my views on public policy, past record and family life. He asked me what my schedule was in Washington. I mentioned that later in the day I would be meeting with the National Republican Campaign Committee to see what kind of assistance they offered candidates in Republican primaries. After our luncheon, Mr. Tumulty offered to give me a tour through the USA TODAY offices in Washington. Amid rows of awards, I found row after row after row of newspaper desks for Gannett newspapers across the country. It reminded me of the newspaper bullpen at the Wisconsin state capitol but much larger.

“Here are the offices of the Gannett newspapers for Duluth, Minnesota … Dubuque, Iowa … and on this side of the building are the USA TODAY offices,” he said, showing great care and consideration for the importance of his work. “This is where the guardians of democracy do their work,” he added.

A sigh and feeling of relief came over me as I spoke out loud, “Thank goodness we have the press.” Tumulty turned for an instant and looked surprised at the sincerity in my voice. The press was my backstop at the state capitol. I relied on the transparency that journalists provided to keep some of my political colleagues honest—or at least on notice. Those front-row game players who believed “politics is only a game” were trouble for any of us who were there to serve the public. As we finished the tour, my belief in our government had grown. Not only did this seem to be a good first meeting, but I had the sense that this man would treat me fairly throughout the campaign. I walked away feeling as though I could trust him.

Next, I hurried to catch the subway to the capitol square stop, where I was about to meet with leaders from the National Republican Campaign Committee (NRCC). The Republican Headquarters was next to the Capitol Hill Club, adjacent to Congress. There, I would find staffers from the NRCC who were assigned to brief me and help me navigate through the press and process of running for the U.S. Congress.

The meeting seemed brief. The staff we met with appeared to be in their twenties. Aside from the security check going up and down from the elevators, the only memorable comment I was given by one staffer was: “We treat all primary candidates equally. Whatever information we give to one candidate, we give to all primary candidates so that the races are fair and the people get to decide on the local level.”

The flight to Washington DC, running to catch subways and the variety of meetings had worn me out. I headed back to my hotel room to freshen up and take a nap before my husband and I planned to go out for dinner. It was at this time that my hotel phone rang with an unexpected caller.

“Hello,” I answered, still tired from the activities of the day.

“Terri, this is Brian Tumulty with Gannett newspapers. I have been doing some checking on the recently released financial reports from House Speaker Hastert, and he has given a maximum contribution to your Republican primary opponent.”

As I scrambled to grasp what that could have meant, I listened further to his questions.

“Terri, did you meet with the NRCC? And if you did, what did they say?”

“Yes, I met with the NRCC,” I responded, “and they assured me that this would be a fair race; that they would give all information and resources equally to all candidates in the republican primary.”

“So the NRCC did not tell you that they were doing a preprimary endorsement of your primary candidate?” Brian asked. “Do you have anything to comment?”

I was stunned. I was speechless. The NRCC had led me to believe just forty-five minutes earlier that this primary was an open primary for an open seat in the U.S. House of Representatives, and they would treat everyone fairly.

This was a reporter whom I had only met that day over lunch … yet I believed him.

Tumulty interrupted the silence. “Let me do some more research, and I will get back to you. Will you be at this phone number?” Betrayal and utter disappointment swept over me all at once. The whole idea of my own party leader’s deception was as though all of the air went out of me. Who would do such a thing? I thought.

When Brian Tumulty phoned back a short time later, he admitted that he had gotten Hastert’s staff on the phone, “What about this Rule No. 11? The RNC and the NRCC said that they have permission to do anything they can to get your opponent in, because of your party’s leadership in Wisconsin.”

“Rule No. 11?” I questioned back. “I have never heard of Rule No. 11.” How could a party rule take the right of an American citizen to run for office and to vote? I wondered. So there I was, facing an unprecedented situation, one that left me with a choice: back out of the race now, or go back against my words in my announcement for Congress. Once the initial shock wore off, I made a statement to the press. My words were from the heart, and they were quoted accurately by Gannett’s Washington news:

“Call me old-fashioned, but I believe the voters should decide who represents them in Washington. The preprimary pick of Hastert and the state party elites is nothing more than electioneering.”

Perhaps it was because I was considered a reformer, beginning with the charter school movement as a private citizen, and then with capital investment innovations as chair of Economic Development. The competitive bidding models I proposed put Wisconsin on the map for saving tens of millions of dollars for prescription drugs, not to mention the national models for support for manufacturers and the small-business regulation reform.

How could this be a merit-based decision? Whatever the reason, it was clear that the GOP elites from outside my congressional district were reaching into the Eighth Congressional District in Wisconsin to help throw the election….To continue reading this chapter, get your copy of “What Sex is a Republican in paperback or Kindle edition on Amazon.

About the Author:

Terri McCormick is an author, policy expert, educator, and former state representative to the Wisconsin State Legislature. Today, she offers her expertise in public and government relations through McCormick Dawson CPG Ltd., a trusted consultancy of independent contractors.

Ms. McCormick serves as president and CEO of the company, drawing from more than two decades of professional experience, a strong educational foundation, a host of industry-related publications, and a multitude of accolades, awards and formal recognitions. Holding a Master of Arts in administrative leadership from Marian University, and a Bachelor of Science in political science and public administration from the University of Wisconsin, Ms. McCormick received both degrees with high honors.

“What Sex is a Republican?” is sold on Amazon in both the paperback edition as well as Kindle edition.  Read reviews on Amazon here.

There is only one way to change things: we the people need to vote for leaders who will represent us. And I do mean vote. 

Without citizen leaders who are elected to serve the people back home, we will continue as a pseudo-democracy resembling monkeys playing in circus tents. What we the people need to remember is how to restore the great experiment of democracy that was once placed in that shining city on the hill.

None of this may surprise you. You may be thinking this is just one more story of politics gone badly. You’ve heard it all before, and it’s getting to be a bit boring.

Have we all forgotten how to blush? Have we forgotten what it is to be American, or have we forgotten how to be courageous?

Do we understand what we have?

Do we, as a nation of individuals bound by the U.S. Constitution, too often forget that the document enumerates the freedoms of all men and women in this great nation under God? Or are we all too comfortable sitting in our armchairs, letting someone else make decisions, vote, and lull us into giving away our freedoms one at a time?

Courage is not found in just those who ride out into battle or face down mortal enemies. Living each day well takes courage. Before I began writing this book, I was afraid—it is important that I admit that to you and to myself. I was afraid that speaking out would deliver problems to my door, problems that I could easily avoid by being quiet.

The larger problem, though, is that I was raised to face down my fears. In fact, it is now more important than ever that we all come together, to change the politics of the schoolyard bullies into what the courageous fifty-six signers of the Declaration of Independence gave their lives and sacred honor to create.

We need the press become the truth-seekers they can be, shining candles in the corners of dark rooms. We the people need to take our place as citizen leaders who vote, support integrity candidates or run for office ourselves.

Who knows? One day we just may get the government we deserve.

To continue reading this chapter, get your copy of “What Sex is a Republican in paperback or Kindle edition on Amazon.

About the Author:

Terri McCormick is an author, policy expert, educator, and former state representative to the Wisconsin State Legislature. Today, she offers her expertise in public and government relations through McCormick Dawson CPG Ltd., a trusted consultancy of independent contractors.

Ms. McCormick serves as president and CEO of the company, drawing from more than two decades of professional experience, a strong educational foundation, a host of industry-related publications, and a multitude of accolades, awards and formal recognitions. Holding a Master of Arts in administrative leadership from Marian University, and a Bachelor of Science in political science and public administration from the University of Wisconsin, Ms. McCormick received both degrees with high honors.

“What Sex is a Republican?” is sold on Amazon in both the paperback edition as well as Kindle edition.  Read reviews on Amazon here.

Little did I know that the Republican Party of my state, along with house assembly “leaders,” would take out its own sitting governor. These same leaders would be investigated and indicted within the same month for felony misuse of public office. This was more than simple “sibling rivalry”—it was something far more brutal. It involved Republican leaders smearing the reputation of their own political party’s governor and then ruining any future career he might have in public office. I was beginning to realize that the beautiful marble hallways, majestic paintings and ornately designed dome in the state capitol far outclassed many of its inhabitants.

It was 2001, just a month after my swearing-in as a freshman state legislator. I was about to receive my first official call from the press. No policy briefing, no amount of study of public policy options could have prepared me for what I was about to hear.

The reporter on the other end of the telephone began, “Your house Chairman of Joint Finance held a press conference earlier in the day. He blasted your party’s governor as not being a ‘real Republican’ and then he said that the governor’s budget was a sham!” I shook off the statement, at first thinking it was a joke. After I processed the question in my mind, I had a few questions of my own for the reporter. “Okay, back up the tape. What did my Joint Finance chair do?”

He repeated the same story. The Joint Finance chair, a young kid from Marinette, had held a television news conference and discredited his own sitting governor, right after Governor McCallum had announced his 2001 state budget to the press. I was at that budget announcement in Green Bay, with most of my Republican colleagues; I supported his budget. This was the most fiscally conservative governor the GOP had in a long time.

I responded, off the record, “That’s impossible. Governor McCallum is an innovator. He has brilliant ideas on economic development and technology. I know this governor; I worked with him four years prior as a private citizen. He is the reason our state has a charter school law.”

As shocking as that phone conversation was, nothing prepared me for what I saw when I pulled into my driveway. The television cameras were rolling. They wanted to know if I was willing to speak on camera.

I’d been in public office for a mere month, and I’d never dealt with the press. I began to ask them if any one of my esteemed colleagues would go on film. After they assured me that “none of them” was willing to give a comment, I agreed.

There was only one course of action to take: tell the truth. “I have all the respect in the world for all of my Republican Party colleagues. However, I have a far different opinion of Governor Scott McCallum. I believe him to be a fiscal conservative and a solid head of the Republican Party in Wisconsin.” Whew. That wasn’t so hard.

As I watched the news later that evening, I began to put the puzzle pieces together. This childish attack on the governor had been staged. There were maybe two people in the room with the television cameras. The immature young man, who somehow had enough years under his belt to be appointed as the chair of Joint Finance, was trying to take out his own party’s governor. He was finagling behind the scenes to take over the GOP house speaker slot, knowing his boss would be indicted on felony counts for misuse of public office. This soon-to-be junior speaker of the house assembly was on television, taking out the only Republican in his way—the sitting Governor.

What I couldn’t understand as a freshman legislator was why this attack was occurring at all. Little did I know that this was a tactic used by the GOP, my party, all too often to separate the chosen few of the political machine from the noisemakers—those people who were actually trying to effect real change for the people of our state.

The next Republican caucus in the house assembly was scheduled for the next week. It coincidentally overlapped with Take Your Daughter to Work Day, a tradition in my home. My then-fifteen-year-old daughter, Kristen, accompanied me to the legislative session. Sadly, she was the most mature one in the room, for there were grown men threatening each other and her mom during those meetings.

We have rules that prohibit sharing of information of what occurs in closed caucuses, so I will just share with you the actions that my daughter saw from the people we elected to guard principles and ethics and to provide leadership.

Kristen viewed what could only be described as staged political theatre.

The first lines were given by the chair of Joint Finance. With a pitiful look on his face, as though he were the wronged party, he began, “I don’t know why Terri got up on television and trashed me, but I don’t think that was right.”

He looked in my direction expecting a response; I didn’t provide it. I remembered what I carefully had told the television crew: “I respect all my Republican colleagues, but I reject any of those statements about our governor.” If anything, this kid should have been apologizing to us.

Next, his sidekick—a six-foot-ten guy with a Herman Munster appearance and a brutish temperament—raised his voice to the level of eardrum-shattering on a boom box in his attempt to create a smokescreen for his “wronged” friend. As he pointed his finger in my direction, I continued to tune him out. I saw no need to respond to the theatre; it was not amusing.

Maintaining his booming and thunderous roar, pushing his voice further toward me, he demanded my attention by asking, “Do you know who this man is?”

Racing through my mind were the retorts, “Who? That inexperienced child?” and “You mean this monkey at a circus?” But that wouldn’t do for this august body, the Wisconsin state legislature; I wouldn’t be disrespectful.

Still, I had had enough of the histrionics of the soon-to-be junior speaker and his sidekick. And it looked like no one else was going to say anything to pull this outrageous behavior in line. It was as though they were handing their school lunch boxes to the schoolyard bullies. As everyone else in Fourth Floor North in the state capitol slid down in their chairs, I realized that it was up to me … again. At least, I thought someone should say something in defense of our governor.

I began, “I do not know who you both think you are. The fifty-six thousand people who elected me to this body did not elect someone who would sit like a lemming and watch as her own party trashes its sitting governor. Unless you would like to start referring to Attorney General Doyle as “Governor Doyle” right now, I suggest we begin to start working with Governor Scott McCallum.”

My comments drew applause from the majority of my caucus, but the damage was done. Standing up for what was right that day would cost me dearly. From that day forward, our party’s next speaker would see me as competition—an upstart and someone who was in his way. Never mind the fact that the “team” was tearing apart one of its own— the governor. I was trouble, and they weren’t going to rest until they taught me how to fall in line.

Impossible? As you read this book you will begin to understand that the politics of governance is not about political party and ideology as much as it is about obedience to the “front row”—to those party bosses who pay for political elections and who dictate the front row’s actions. Politics is all about the party elites who hold the purse strings and command obedience—if you let them….To continue reading this chapter, get your copy of “What Sex is a Republican in paperback or Kindle edition on Amazon.

About the Author:

Terri McCormick is an author, policy expert, educator, and former state representative to the Wisconsin State Legislature. Today, she offers her expertise in public and government relations through McCormick Dawson CPG Ltd., a trusted consultancy of independent contractors.

Ms. McCormick serves as president and CEO of the company, drawing from more than two decades of professional experience, a strong educational foundation, a host of industry-related publications, and a multitude of accolades, awards and formal recognitions. Holding a Master of Arts in administrative leadership from Marian University, and a Bachelor of Science in political science and public administration from the University of Wisconsin, Ms. McCormick received both degrees with high honors.

“What Sex is a Republican?” is sold on Amazon in both the paperback edition as well as Kindle edition.  Read reviews on Amazon here.

Soul-searching took me to my first inspiration and role model in political office, Representative Earl McEssy. It was this man’s act of kindness after my father had died that lingers with me still. “Go to Representative McEssy if you or Mom need me after I am gone,” Dad told me when he knew that his death was certain.

I remember standing in the hallway of Rep. McEssy’s large home on Forest Avenue, just down the block from ours. It was there that I would find the help my mother needed. It appeared there was a problem with Dad’s medical insurance coverage at the end of his life. The medical evacuation helicopter was not covered, and my father’s life insurance policy was being held up for that reason. Widowed, with only me to help, my mother could not find a way to pay for my father’s funeral.

Our family sorrows became Rep. McEssy’s sorrows. My mother cradled her head in her hands in grief as she tried to work her way through the medical and ambulance bills on her desk. It was time for me to turn to my father’s friend for help.

I quietly phoned him from the next room. “Representative McEssy? I am George McCormick’s daughter. My father died last week, and we are running into some pretty difficult problems. I am sorry to bother you …”

The need to help my mother gave me the distance I needed to block my own grief and sorrow.

I went on, “Rep. McEssy, my mother needs help working through the requirements of the insurance company—they need proof that my father was on Medicare insurance in Minnesota before his death. “You see, Rep McEssy, we don’t know how to get the paperwork from Minnesota to the Social Security office in Washington,” I managed to finish before a sense of hopelessness felt its way down my face in the form of a tear.

McEssy’s voice was kind, steadfast and reassuring. “Terri, tell Ardys that she is not to worry about anything. Tell her that I will take care of this and it is not a problem.” He went on in soft tones, “Terri, don’t be afraid. I will help you.”

I managed to say the words “Oh, thank you … thank you so much” before I hung up the phone.

It was this memory that has acted as a pivotal moment for me, that shapes the way I view the responsibility of an elected official. It was Earl McEssy, our trusted family friend and state representative who cared for us and carried us through a difficult time with his integrity.

AN HONESTY TOUR CAMPAIGN

My campaign resembled more of a ragtag volunteer army than a well-oiled political machine. We had heart, a passion to serve and a sincerity that was welcomed, quite literally, into the homes and minds of the people who lived in the Fifty-sixth House Assembly District in Wisconsin. For me, it has not been easy. I’ve always wanted to make a difference but haven’t always wanted to be in the limelight. For that, I needed to believe and be convinced to run for elective office.

The voices of former students visiting my office encouraged me. “Stop talking about how things can change and how to change them, Ms. McCormick, and get out there and run for public office.” Before I knew it, “we” were running for the Fifty-sixth House Assembly seat in the Wisconsin legislature. Joining forces with me to form the best grassroots campaign the state had ever seen were Susan Menge, Jenny Vosters, Lauren Breithaupt, Jared Guzman, Michael Welhouse, Jeff Dercks, and Dan Brellenthin—and my own daughters and son. Ellen Breithaupt led our voter-list brigade, and Evie and Bob Kettner, the owners of Mr. and Mrs. K’s Restaurant, held countless town meetings in Greenville.

In the summer of 2000, I went door-to-door, asking the people for their confidence and trust to represent them in the state legislature. I was battle-tested, as they say, from my pioneering days with charter schools.

My old “pals” at the teachers union would be there, too, ready to “reward” me for passing that landmark legislation for public charter school reform—they would spend forty thousand dollars against me in my own Republican primary, and countless more dollars against me in the general election.

As luck would have it, my constituents were looking for something different, rather than the same old politics. The voters of the Fifty-sixth House Assembly District would stand with me in 2000, proving that it wasn’t about the money. Our band of citizen leaders and volunteers would carry us to victory.

I became a state legislator at my swearing-in in January 2001. Now, it was my turn to represent the people who elected me….To continue reading this chapter, get your copy of “What Sex is a Republican in paperback or Kindle edition on Amazon.

About the Author:

Terri McCormick is an author, policy expert, educator, and former state representative to the Wisconsin State Legislature. Today, she offers her expertise in public and government relations through McCormick Dawson CPG Ltd., a trusted consultancy of independent contractors.

Ms. McCormick serves as president and CEO of the company, drawing from more than two decades of professional experience, a strong educational foundation, a host of industry-related publications, and a multitude of accolades, awards and formal recognitions. Holding a Master of Arts in administrative leadership from Marian University, and a Bachelor of Science in political science and public administration from the University of Wisconsin, Ms. McCormick received both degrees with high honors.

“What Sex is a Republican?” is sold on Amazon in both the paperback edition as well as Kindle edition.  Read reviews on Amazon here.