By Washington 36th District Representative Mary Lou Dickerson, a member of the 1997-98 Flemming Fellows Leadership Institute term-limited class (pictured below). Following the November 1997 term-limited class retreat in Sedona, Arizona, Dickerson described her experience as a Flemming Fellow. The non-partisan Flemming Fellows Leadership Institute was founded in 1994 to identify and train progressive state elected officials across traditional boundaries. The Flemming Program is supported by the W.K. Kellogg Foundation.
With mischievous pomp two women legislators, a Democrat from Maine and a Republican from Michigan, handed each of us a marble made of the red clay of Sedona. The rough-fashioned marble represented a new knowledge. Somehow this seemed a fitting ending to the learning the 15 of us had just experienced in the high desert country of Arizona.
We had gathered just seven days earlier — senators and representatives from term-limited states across the U.S. We were a diverse bunch: conservatives, moderates and liberals, Democrats and Republicans. Aware that as a group we were a crazy stew of various political beliefs and that among us was a bartender, a veterinarian, two teachers, an attorney, a writer and a consignment store owner, I wondered if we would ever be able to find common ground to come to agreement on anything. But we shared one belief: that government could play a role in making the lives of people in our communities better. We were folks who would’ve nodded in agreement with Abraham Lincoln when he said “the role of government is to do for the people what they cannot do, or do so well, for themselves.”
CPA had selected each of us to participate in the Flemming Fellows Leadership Institute, a seven-day adventure in exploring our values and decision making processes and learning how to reach agreement with others holding wildly different perspectives on important policy issues.
We started by taking a look at what made up our personal value systems. We also looked at ourselves through a values profile which labeled us as either “utilitarian,” individual rights” or “social justice.” I ended up in the social justice category and was surprised to learn that there were only three of us in the entire group. I started questioning my assumption that this was always a superior value system — that social justice types are somehow divinely annointed with the only correct values. After all, the individual rights and utilitarian legislators were decent, smart and even likable folks.
It began to dawn on me that this wasn’t going to be an easy seven days. We were beginning to understand how important it was to understand and respect each others’ differences if we were going to work together successfully.
During the rest of the week we examined how we make decisions and learned about some common mistakes in logic that all of us are susceptible to, especially in times of stress — such as during a legislative session. We studied state budgets as value statements and worked on our own ideal state constitutions. We took a policy area, education, and developed policy positions and action plans around it.
By the end of the week a minor miracle had occurred: we were able to put partisan labels aside and come together and work out agreements on education policy that made sense to all of us. It was a new way of behaving and felt odd but very good.
As I left Sedona I held my red clay marble tightly and made a silent wish that I might be able to put into practice what had been learned. Will I be able to find others when I return to Olympia who might want to play by the same new rules? I really don’t know. But I plan to put that marble on my desk on the floor of the House as a reminder of what I’ve learned.
