For the last five years, I’ve helped NAMI-Iowa lobby my state senators and representatives for various mental healthcare legislative changes, like the mental health regional access center and the historic children’s mental healthcare system in Iowa. I’ve done it by emails, phone calls, and in person.
But let me assure you, I’m not a politician. Not even close. I’m no one important in politics (or in general it could be argued). Lobbying in person at a state capital is an odd experience. The rotunda outside the House and Senate chambers is always crowded with lobbyists—some private citizens like myself, some professional—and also with pages, reporters, spectators, school kids getting tours, and Senators and Representatives themselves meeting with constituents or taking phone calls in various sitting areas. It’s hot, loud, and chaotic.
Outside the opposing chambers are large posters with each Senator and Representative’s name and seat number, and nearby small tables with slips of paper for lobbyist to fill out with name and legislative issue. Once filled out, a page takes the paper into the appropriate Senator or Representative.
And then you wait.
Sometimes the legislator comes out of chambers immediately, sometimes not. Sometimes they’re not even in chambers for various reason, or they’re taking a vote, or are in a different meeting.
The first time I lobbied then-Rep. Zach Nunn (R) and now Congressional Senator Nunn, I filled out the slip of paper with something super blunt like, “I’m a Bondurant resident whose neighbors were killed by their mentally ill son and I’m now working on mental healthcare reform in their honor,” and stepped off to the side of the crowd, expecting to settle in for who knew how long.
Let me tell you, he came out immediately to talk to me.
I vividly recall our conversation at the back of the chambers room, and, despite being in different political parties, how he genuinely listened to me. I just started by talking about my personal reasons for being there: the tragedy with my neighbors, where I personally saw the gaps in our state mental healthcare system that failed Chase and his family, and the legislation up for debate that could’ve helped and even saved their lives.
It was the first time I saw how powerful an average citizen with a personal story could be.
Over the years, I’ve met several times with my current district representative, Rep. Brian Lohse (R), and my meetings with him get easier every time I chat with him.
But this year, I returned to the state capital with my biggest challenge yet. The senator in my district, Sen. Jack Whitver (R) also happens to be the Senate Majority Leader. I was prepared by several people it can be extremely difficult to get a meeting with him, and it would be unlikely he’d come out to talk with me.
I sent my note with the same blunt but honest message I sent to Zach Nunn that first year, and then a second note, and an hour and half later, Sen. Whitver came out to talk to me. And I did what I’ve done in years past—I told him my personal reasons for being there and what happened in my rural neighborhood six years ago, about the gaps that existed in our mental healthcare system then and still do now, and the legislation right now that could’ve made a difference for my neighbors and so many other Iowa families, and even save lives.
He’s an intense guy, but he listened and asked questions, and I can’t ask much more than that. Whatever happens with mental healthcare legislation this year, I left the capital that day feeling once again that this is the legacy of my neighbors, the Nicholson family: telling a personal story to inspire change that might help, and even save, the lives of others. ~
The Iowa Writers’ Collaborative
I’m a proud member of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative. We’re a group of writers from all around the state and contribute commentary and feature stories of interest to those who care about Iowa. Readership and paid support helps keep us going!
A few of my favorite Iowa Writers’ Collaborative Columns:
Julie Gammack’s Iowa Potluck by Julie Gammack
This Stays Here by Nicole Baart
Wini’s Food Stories by Wini Moranville
The Asian Iowan by Jane Nguyen
What's impactful for me about this post isn't so much the meetings with powerful politicians but your commitment to telling your neighbors story and seeing it through to the end. It takes a big heart to take on someone else's troubles. Thanks for writing this.
My experience in Colorado with most Republican reps and senators was that they’d listen intently, then go on their merry “no” way when it came time for a vote that mattered. But please keep trying. It does help. We eventually turned our state blue…that’s when things changed. And then the Democrats added too much bureaucracy! Sigh. But every story matters. “Frameworks” also has some good tips on messaging around core social issues.