One of the most important bridges that Ronald Reagan built during his time as our 40th president has gone largely unmentioned in this time of reflection. It was a bridge to equality one that made it possible for a much wider range of willing Americans to build their own bridges as public servants. He laid a historic stone in that bridge with a decision that had a uniquely powerful impact on my life. Just seven months after taking office, he nominatedthe first woman to the United States Supreme Court. That woman was me-a cowgirl from Eastern Arizona and his decision was as much a surprise to me as it was to the nation as a whole. But Ronald Reagan knew that his decision wasn‘t about Sandra Day O’Connor; it was about women everywhere. It was about a nation that was on its way to bridging a chasm between genders that had divided us for too long.
President Reagan‘s overarching goal was to help us work together to achieve an America that was a beacon of light in a world of darkness. But he knew that his fabled shining city on a hill could not be achieved if the faces of our public servants did not reflect the faces of our public. He told America that this appointment to the Court symbolized the richness of opportunity that still abided in America opportunity that permits persons of any sex, age or race, from every section and every walk of life to aspire and achieve in a manner never before even dreamed about in human history. In a single day with a single action, he had laid the foundation for a bridge that would continue to be built by dedicated Americans in the years to come.
Years later, when President Reagan took up his pen to say goodbye to the nation, he expressed a noble confidence in our nation’s ability to build bridges. He wrote: When the Lord calls me home, whenever that may be, I will leave with the greatest love for this country of ours and eternal optimism for its future. I know that for America there will always be a bright dawn ahead. President Reagan recognized that, although we still face many collective challenges, the good people of today can make a difference for tomorrow.
This bridge builder received a hero‘s farewell in Washington this week, and then headed home to be laid to rest here in his beautiful California, under a memorial that holds an inscription of these words that he spoke many years ago: I know in my heart that man is good; that what is right will always eventually triumph; and that there’s purpose and worth to each and every life.
Ronald Reagan understood the vital necessity of public service. He knew that some of life‘s greatest victories are small ones, and he knew that it is often in giving that we gain the most.
Over the years, I learned those same lessons. My own career in public service was born of necessity. After graduating near the top of my class at Stanford Law School in 1952, I was unable to obtain employment in a private law firm. I did receive one contingent offer of employment as a legal secretary. But the gender walls that blocked me out of the private sector were more easily hurdled in the public sector, and I first found employment as a deputy county attorney of San Mateo County, California. While I was brought to the position by something short of choice, I came to realize almost immediately what a wonderful path I had taken. I was having a better time at my job than were those of my peers who had opted for private practice. Life as a public servant was more interesting. The work was more challenging. The encouragement and guidance from good mentors was more genuine. And the opportunities to take initiative and to see real results were more frequent. Ultimately, these forays into the exciting area of public service led me to the privilege of serving as an assistant attorney general in my state, a state senator, a state judge and a United States Supreme Court Justice. At every step of the way, I felt the thrill of doing something right for a reason that was good. It was the thrill of building bridges.
To be sure, the work of bridge building can be as taxing as it is rewarding. These efforts can call for sacrifice , sometimes emotional, sometimes financial, sometimes personal. Those who choose the life of public service open themselves to public review. There’s a wonderful little story told about Stanford‘s own Herbert Hoover. When he was president of the United States, he became quite discouraged when his attempts to promote economic recovery during the Great Depression seemed to be making little headway.
Hoover expressed his discouragement to former president Calvin Coolidge, noting that he was particularly disturbed that, in spite of all of his efforts, his critics were becoming ever more vocal and belligerent. Coolidge comforted Hoover: You can’t expect to see calves running in the field the day after you put the bull to the cows, he told him. No, Hoover replied, but I would at least expect to see some contented cows.