Iowa's freshman lawmakers learning to deal with 'revised expectations'

DES MOINES - They were supposed to be going home now, at least that's what they were told when they signed up for the job.

But as Iowa's freshman lawmakers have learned time and time again this year, not everything in the Statehouse turns out to be what was expected.

The November elections radically changed the political makeup at the Capitol with Republicans wresting control of the governor's office and the House of Representatives, while coming within one seat of taking control of the Senate.

There were 29 new members elected to the House and nine to the Senate.

Some, including Sen. Bill Dix, R-Shell Rock, and Rep. Stewart Iverson, R-Clarion, were seasoned lawmakers who moved from one chamber to another. Others, such as Dan Rasmussen, a Republican from Independence, had been in the Legislature before.

But for the most part, the 38 new lawmakers were freshmen in the true sense of the word. They also were overwhelmingly Republican - 22 of 29 in the House and eight of nine in the Senate - which accounted for the shifts in power.

For the freshmen, however, the similarities crossed party lines into shared experience.

On the campaign trail, it seems so easy, said Rep. Jeremy Taylor, a freshman from Sioux City. He had a list of the 22 things he wanted to accomplish his first session, only to realize how difficult it is to get one or two pieces of legislation through the process.

“It's like trying to score with four seconds left and there are 15 people on the other team. You have to shoot a three-pointer and catch it when it comes back,” he said. “There are just so many different (challenges) ,whether it's a committee chair, a majority chair or the fact that there's a Senate with a whole different party in control.”

Revised expectations were just one of the several themes that emerged in a series of interviews with several of Iowa's freshman lawmakers this week. Many waxed philosophical on the value of relationships or their realization that the folks on the other side of the aisle really aren't that bad.

And some had unique takes on their impressions from their first legislative session.

Take Mary Wolfe, a Democratic attorney from Clinton, who, when asked what were some of the highlights from her time at the Capitol answered, “Getting to work in such a drop-dead gorgeous building every day.”

Rep. Walt Rogers, Republican, Cedar Falls

The director: The emails generally hit Thursday afternoon. That's the day most lawmakers send out their constituent newsletter to all their subscribers. Some of them are simply the week's party talking points, others are completely original. Most are a mix of the two. Rep. Walt Rogers, 49, of Cedar Falls, does something else. He puts together a newsletter but also a short movie that's uploaded to YouTube about every two or three weeks. He calls them his “Inside Look” videos and, in them, he tours the Capitol, talks to other lawmakers, jokes with an Abraham Lincoln impersonator and even makes a pitch for someone to buy his car, a 1998 Honda Civic for $4,000. “I did end up selling it for $3,700,” Rogers said. “Now, I have to sell my motorcycle.”

It really isn't debate: A nonprofit director in the Cedar Valley, Rogers said he was struck that the real work of convincing someone to take your side on legislation comes well before that legislation ever gets to the House floor. “Debate on the floor really isn't debate. It's more a place for people to make statements about what they believe,” he said. “The real debate takes place behind the scenes with, the negotiation process with different legislators.”

Blue carding: Rogers said his hands-on education to the legislative process was when he was asked to “blue card” a bill that dealt with joint custody for divorced parents. Blue-carding is a process in which a legislator takes a blue card (literally) around to his or her colleagues and asks how they'll vote on a bill. The card lists each name and has a box for “yes” or “no.” It's here that a politician gets to test his or her skills of persuasion and bargaining.

“As I did that, I got to know some of the legislators better, I told them about the bill,” Rogers said. “We ended up getting bipartisan support for the bill, I think it was 69-30, and it was the first time it passed in the House.”

Rep. Mark Lofgren, Republican, Muscatine

A runner's life: The Grand Blue Mile was held Tuesday in downtown Des Moines. Rep. Mark Lofgren, a 49-year-old from Muscatine, had signed up to be part of a relay team. But as the clock ticked toward the evening start time, the House was in its fifth hour of debate on the nuclear energy bill. Then, about 6:30 p.m., the vote was called. Lofgren cast his “yes” vote, left the Capitol to the waiting car - with his clerk, who is also his daughter, behind the wheel - and made it in time to start the race. He clocked in at just more than 6 minutes. “It's not my best,” said Lofgren, who can still beat the 20-minute mark on a 5k. His times have fallen off a bit during his freshman term in the Legislature. Part of it has to do with the hours legislators keep, he said, also that they're in meetings most of the time they're in session. But it also could be, he acknowledged, the free sweets lawmakers bring in for each other whenever one of them is celebrating a birthday, an anniversary or some other such milestone.

The moderate: Lofgren considers himself a moderate and will sometimes shake his head at what he sees as over-the-top partisanship. Overall, he said, the legislators in the House are less partisan than he thought going in. “The extremist people on both parties, they aren't going to work with the other party no matter what,” Lofgren said. “I think, for the most part, the people are trying to work together.”

Learning curve: Lofgren said he had a good idea of what to expect when coming to the Legislature, but that didn't make it easier when the realization set in that not everything he hoped to do would get done. “I think what happens is you come up here and you'll go to some senior person, and they'll say, ‘I like the idea, but because of this, this and this,' and you'll go and work on it.”

Mary Wolfe, Democrat, Clinton

She's got a point to make: There's a saying in politics that likens freshman legislators to children, along the lines of they are best seen and not heard. Mary Wolfe, an attorney from Clinton, didn't get the memo. Or if she did, she ignored it. Wolfe could be depended upon to have an opinion - one she wasn't shy to share - on just about any piece of legislation that made it to the House floor.

Gridlock: Asked about impressions of her first year at the Capitol, Wolfe scribbled out a three-page note in black pen. Among the high points of her first legislative term were: “having the opportunity to talk with people back home re: issues (by email/phone/Facebook)” and “the opportunity to work with smart people from both parties and make good law.” Her disappointments were “total gridlock on budget bills; still not clear how we're ever going to reach an agreement” and the “inability to make necessary policy changes due to concerns about the next election.” She explained the latter point by saying that “everyone agrees” the state should concentrate on community corrections instead of putting more people in an already crowded prison system, but “no one wants to be seen as ‘soft on crime.'”

Bottom line: “So bottom line, I would stipulate that I overdid it during debate on some of the bills I handled and that I used the word ‘constitutional' way too often. But I do think it's a learning process, and I think that I've learned from my mistakes,” she wrote in response to an email asking about what motivated her to pick up debate so often. “Plus I also think that I made at least a few of the lawyers from the majority party think twice before they voted yes on crappy bills. They still voted yes, but at least I made them a little uncomfortable.”

Rep. Anesa Kajtazovic, Democrat, Waterloo

Wearing a heart on her sleeve: Anesa Kajtazovic was shaking at her desk. The House was debating an abortion bill that would outlaw most abortions after 20 weeks. Kajtazovic thinks there should have been more exceptions to what the Republicans were offering. Her voice started to crack as she spoke, and she paused to wipe her eyes. “I've gotten really emotional on the floor, because we're talking about people and the policies we make affect people's lives,” she said. “I think most of us know people who have been in a difficult situation, maybe lost a job or had a health issue.”

Quiet minority: Kajtazovic said one of the frustrating things about being a member of the minority party is putting your energy and effort into something only to watch it get quashed in the legislative process. “I ran for office because I'm passionate about so many different issues,” said the 23-year-old, who is the youngest lawmaker in the Legislature. “I'm told it's because we're in the minority, but I've worked on so many bills on renewable energy and on jobs that just don't pass … I wish we had more of a voice here.”

A town hall: The most memorable experiences of her freshman year, Kajtazovic said were the public hearings held in the House chamber. There was one on education funding, another on collective bargaining, and the first one of the session was on an amendment to ban same-sex marriage. “Those were so very exciting,” she said. “To get 2,000 people here on collective bargaining, it was amazing.”

Rep. Ross Paustian, Republican, Walcott

Slow and steady: Rep. Ross Paustian's politics are as conservative as his demeanor. The 55-year-old farmer and freshman House member is about the farthest thing from a firebrand as one could imagine. So, while some of his freshman colleagues may have been surprised or frustrated when they realized how things work at the Statehouse, Paustian took it in stride.

“I knew you have to be patient. A bill doesn't get done in a day,” he said. “It's a long process.”

Not a surprise: The pace is something that Paustian expected. He had been to Des Moines several times before to lobby on issues and talk to lawmakers. “I really knew how it worked already,” he said.

Seen and not heard: Still, Paustian said he's “kind of quiet to begin with,” so he was a little surprised to see how much people can talk and talk without saying much of anything. “I've already told people back home, ‘You can't believe some of the stuff that goes on during debate, how people can go on and on,'” Paustian said. “The best advice I got from a couple of veterans when I got here was, ‘Keep your mouth shut.' … I think that advice has served me well.”

Sen. Roby Smith, Republican, Davenport

Working the room: Sen. Roby Smith has been working both sides of the aisle in both chambers for the past few weeks. He desperately wants the Senate the pick up a late-term abortion ban bill that has passed the House but, so far, hasn't made it to the Senate floor. For Smith, it's been a lot of talking, cajoling and strategizing. The work is an illustration of what Smith said is the most valuable lesson he learned this session. “You've got to put work into making these bills the best that they can be. You think, ‘Oh, just draw up a bill,' but you've got to meet with a lot of constituents and a lot of experts to make it right. You have the intent of what you're working on, but you've actually got to get that intent into the bill without unintended consequences.”

No votes: The late-term abortion ban bill is just one of many bills that House and Senate Republicans have criticized the Democrat-controlled Senate for not picking up this session. The list includes collective bargaining reform, a gay marriage ban amendment and others. It's a situation that frustrates Smith, too. “You expect in a democracy, ‘bring it up, let's vote on it.' If it has the votes, it passes. If it doesn't, it doesn't,” Smith said. “That's been a surprise. And when you explain it to people back home, they say, ‘Oh, I didn't realize that.'”

The highlight: Smith said one thing he'll remember from this session was attending the governor's inauguration. During the ceremony, he and other lawmakers gathered in Hy-Vee Hall, and they are asked to accept the vote totals.

“We're in the catacombs, well, maybe that's too fancy of a word, but we're in the bottom of Hy-Vee Hall in a conference room and the secretary of state says, ‘Who accepts the totals say ‘aye,'” Smith said. “It was like wow. … If you think about it, it just happened right there. I was just part of the process to elect the governor, and it was just in a room, not in a big Capitol.”