LEAD ON: Girls Just Want to Have Civic Fun
- Shannon Rae Gentry
- Jun 8
- 4 min read
Updated: Sep 16
Back in May, Encore's Next Chapter Newsletter featured a day I had in civics. Not in the sense of going on some research or news bender ... though, I did recently read Cokie Roberts' 2004 "Founding Mothers" that I snagged at NHC Northeast Library's last book sale. A book about passionate women using what privilege they have to support and incite rebellion against a tyrannic king? Say less.
This time around the topic of civics casually and creatively found me by way of happenstance, conversation, supporting friends, and of course, local art.
First, I had a call with Lead NC, a nonpartisan group that seeks out, encourages and cultivates a new generation of community and civic leaders.
Lead NC is on my radar because I know folks who have worked with them. Theirs is important work, as running for office is a privilege the average North Carolinian cannot afford due to the time, energy, and commitment it requires, not to mention any functional campaign knowledge.
Lead NC is especially looking to find and support women considering a bid, because regardless of party, there are very few women in office.
It's an objective observation: Women and minorities do not have equal representation (by very large margins) in most local, state, and federal spaces—this is not a claim laid in politics or policy, it's numbers.
Later that day, I went to a campaign kickoff event for a woman who happens to be a Lead NC alumni. Now, I had additional perspective to attend with.
Note: I include the campaign event for the sake of this story, but not the candidate's name, as I do not want to inadvertently use this platform to promote them.
The Lead NC call was just coincidental timing, I was already set to go support a candidate I respect as a former colleague, a friend, a fellow mother, and a peer.
I know I'm not alone when I say, I'm not used to seeing my peers in this space. When we see people we can identify with doing something like run for local office, it can make the idea more accessible. Just in case you talk to someone who does not understand why we keep talking about the importance of representation...
The day ends where more should: the theater.
BTW
Austen from Lead NC told me that people typically have to ask a woman an average of seven times before they'll consider running for office.
This reminded me of an old study that indicated women tend to only apply for jobs when they meet 100 percent of the qualifications, while men apply with 60 percent met. And while practically ancient from 2014, I thought Tara Sophia Mohr made compelling and relevant points about these stats in "Why Women Don’t Apply for Jobs Unless They’re 100% Qualified."
"What the Constitution Means to Me"
In an almost entirely one-person show, Cathy Street is an absolute juggernaut in "What the Constitution Means to Me"—and I had no idea what the show was about before I arrived.
YOLO, as the kids never say.
You might have seen Cathy at the Encore's Revival Party check-in table—a star in any role! Of course, when another friend said they were "going to Cathy's show," I was in. For all I knew, this was a one-woman show on the lifecycle of pocket fuzz.
I assumed it would be as great as Cathy is, but y'all...
The whole damn thing is about the constitution and how it shapes the lives of four generations of women!
For the love of RBG, what are the odds?!
Written by playwright Heidi Schreck and presented by Big Dawg Productions, Cathy plays a perpetually bubbly (yet competitive) 15-year-old Heidi who earns her college tuition by crushing Constitutional debate competitions at American Legions across the U.S.
Schreck played the lead role in the premier on Broadway in 2019 and its relevance persists just as the women it features do. As go many stories of women coming of age, we laugh, we cry, we rage, we laugh some more, and we relate.
Hanging on every word as Heidi confidently rattles off the sections of the Ninth Amendment, as well as every thoughtful pause as she describes to the judges what it all means personally to her (as required by the competition). Our hearts swell and sink as she draws poignant connections between familial stories and relationships across generations of women; how they lived under a constitution—albeit evolving—written without them in mind.
Whether you are the type that carries a weathered, marked-up pocket constitution, or you just have a vague idea of what habeas corpus means, this is a show of the time and the conversation.
If you get the chance, take your kids, your parents, your coworkers, that one lady down the street (Susan, maybe?), but especially yourself.
