Tears to the Heart of Texas

Former Texas Governor Ann Richards died this week. A few years ago, I saw Governor Richards speak at a dinner for the Northwest Women's Law Center (and even got to shake her hand when a friend from Texas introduced me). She made such an impression, I talked about her for weeks -- usually choking back emotion and unable to adequately describe what she actually said. I'm the same way today.

I'm so sad. Partly because I'm immature about death and just feel like crying, "but I met her -- and she was alive!" Partly because I'd imagined even greater things for her -- national office, more publications, even farther-reaching service to her party and country. But even if she was the wrong generation to be in Barak Obama's cabinet (or he in hers), she left a great legacy of prison reform and equal rights. She was a sensible, convicted voice for respectful treatment of everyone. She was a commanding and inspired woman who remained true to her own self while holding public office. She was one of the greatest, but she doesn't have to be the last.

Everyone talks about Governor Richards' wit, which makes me reflect on what exactly made her so darn funny. Because humor is so subjective. I once was in a workshop with a group of engaged couples when we were asked to name one thing we loved about our partners. Almost everyone mentioned "sense of humor." But after spending a weekend with these people, I had to respectfully (and quietly) observe that, with the exception of my own fiancé, no one was being particularly amusing. Humor is part of affection and intimacy -- it doesn't just attract us, it grows as we become more familiar. The more we trust someone, the more they share their selves with us, the more we are able to laugh together. The best humor is in those sudden little moments -- that light up with a twist of phrase, a quick insight, shining like a bright flash from the depth of a person's character. The deeper we love someone, the funnier they are.

And that was Governor Richards' appeal. I've been looking up quotes to repost here (some of the best are at her Keynote Address to the 1988 Democratic Convention), but find that -- as brilliant as she sounds in writing -- I can't quite capture the warmth and conviction I recall from seeing her speak. She brought her genuine self into the room as few people do. She loved progress and cared about people. And she was loved in return. And that's why she was so, so funny -- At the heart of her wit was her courageous and humble heart.

Learning to ride a motorcycle on her 60th Birthday


. . . After all, Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels.
-Ann Richards