If you really want to know how bad the Democratic bench is in terms of candidates and role models, just look at this Cosmopolitan piece about Wendy Davis and what she did after her devastating and catastrophic loss to Republican Greg Abbott—sorry, Gov. Abbott.
She went to Costa Rica, drank margaritas with her family, but she said the loss hurt. At the same time, she goes on about how 2014 was not really an indicator concerning whether Texas was trending blue, and she lamented on how her filibuster of a late-term abortion bill allowed Republicans to label her “abortion Barbie.” She felt that really didn’t represent her, despite that fact that to enter the American progressive club you must be pro-abortion—and not just pro-abortion, but for government subsidies of it with no limits and no apologies. Late term abortion is already deeply unpopular and 20-weeks bans on abortions are popular—60 percent of American women support them. Davis only got national attention because Barack Obama, showing his support for abortion rights, tweeted about her filibuster in the Texas Senate. If she wanted to get beyond that, that’s her fault, as Davis had to have known she was on the national stage solely because of her pro-choice advocacy.
The campaign, by all accounts, was a disaster. She mocked Abbott’s use of a wheelchair in an ad. The consulting firm that steered her to victory in her state Senate race wrote a memo on how her campaign was rudderless by January of 2014. Instead of shifting towards the center, Davis’ campaign was banking on a silent majority of liberal voters in Texas, which the firm, Prism Communications, noted was not the way to win in the state. They concluded that the campaign operation was either broken or in desperate need of an overhaul. It never happened. Davis couldn’t even garner 40 percent of the vote in 2014. Still, the Left spun her crushing loss as a win because, well, let’s face it—2014 was a very bad year for Democrats. In the aftermath of her gubernatorial loss and Hillary’s 2016 upset defeat, which she also described as difficult, she’s started her own organization to elect more women candidates and said she might run for office again [emphasis mine]:
I was only introduced as someone who fought for abortion rights. Which I never wanted to shy away from — that was absolutely a very important part of who I am and what I stand for — but I didn’t ever really get beyond that with a lot of people.
And my Republican opponents took advantage of that. It was not by accident, it was very strategic that they began referring to me as “Abortion Barbie.”
The biggest struggle, for me, was not on the night I lost — it was actually dealing with the loss over the next few weeks, and even months. I knew that the state was going to go in two very different directions, depending on the outcome.
Then I realized that the benefit of having run state-wide is that I’d created relationships all over the state and the country, and that provided me with a platform to keep fighting for what matters to me — issues like education, health care, and women's rights. I think that’s true for any office you run for — you come away from it with an extraordinary education, and a new audience who you can continue to speak with, even if you’re not the one elected to serve a particular district or state. Now I try to keep my voice out there, and help other young women do the same thing.
Hillary Clinton is a great example of this. When I think about her loss — which, to be honest, I felt more deeply than either of my two political losses just because the stakes were so high — I know that she’s inspired so many people to continue to fight on behalf of the things she was championing. Even though she and Bernie Sanders both lost their races, he in the primary and she in the general election, they still keep inspiring people all over the country — their values were lifted up.
Now I have my own organization, Deeds Not Words, which helps women, make changes in their community. And as part of that, I want to help connect women who are considering running for office with our allies like Ignite and She Should Run. We need more women in politics, and no one really knows how to be a candidate the first time, so it’s important to lend support.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to run again myself someday. Once you’ve run for office once, you no longer suffer any romantic ideas about it. You know how hard it is. It takes a lot out of you, especially when you lose and you can feel like you let yourself or other people down. Honestly, more often than not, you can come out feeling bloodied and sweaty and scarred — even though you know that was all on behalf of something that really mattered. When you do run, you have to be ready to give it your all again. You have to ask yourself, “Am I there yet? Are there conditions in the electoral climate that might make things turn out differently this time?” I’m trying to figure out when I should put myself back out there, and when will the electoral climate in Texas be right for me.
Oh, please do, Ms. Davis. Then, we can watch this clown show all over again. The fact that the Left has to circle back to their roster of losers to find something positive should speak volumes for a party that is in the gutter concerning fundraising, crafting a popular agenda, and disseminating a popular message that resonates with people who don’t just live in the cities. They have a lot of work to do—and even Davis is hesitant to jump back into the ring. That doesn’t mean we all quietly hope she does. Easy victories are always something to yearn for these days.