A Fighting Chance

A thin young man—really just a kid—in a loose-fitting suit, with a backpack slung over his shoulder, looked at me and smiled. A minute later, he came over. “Are you Elizabeth Warren?”


He was from central Massachusetts, the first in his family to go to college. He was attending school in Boston and he loved it, but he said he worried about money all the time. He worked a full-time job during the school year and took two jobs during the summer to try to cover as much as he could. As we waited for the subway, we talked about student loans, declining government investment in universities, and rising tuition. Finally, he asked if he could take a picture. Bruce snapped the shot on the young man’s phone. The kid smiled and started to walk away, then turned around.

“I give you money every month, and I’m taking on hours so I can give more.”

I felt as if he’d hit me with a spear right between the ribs. Good Lord—this kid was working until nearly eleven o’clock on a Saturday night and he was sending me money? I smiled weakly and said something along the lines of, “Uh, I’m doing okay in the campaign. Maybe you should keep your money. I’ll be fine. Really.”

He looked back at me. “No, I’m part of this campaign. This is my fight, too.”

And that really was the answer. It wasn’t just my campaign. My name was on the ticket, but these folks weren’t volunteering and donating for me. They were supporting something a lot bigger. When I said that we were better off if we invested in the future together, they already knew it was true—and they lived it. They thought America could do better, and they wanted it every bit as much as I did. And they would do everything possible to try to make that better future a reality.

This is my fight, too. It still gives me goose bumps.





Worth the Investment

As the fall raced by, I continued dividing my time between politics and teaching. At the end of the term, I planned to stop teaching and start campaigning full-time. Late that fall, it began to sink in that it was at least possible that I would soon teach my last class ever.

It was a bittersweet thought. Sure, I was revved up about the coming election, and I wanted very much to win. But if I joined the Senate, I would miss the classroom terribly. I loved holding a piece of chalk and watching the lightbulbs go on for my students—love love loved it. It’s what I had wanted to do since I was a little girl. Leaving it behind would be hard.

But I was starting to discover that although running for office was sometimes awful, the experience could also be deeply personal. Not when I was smiling for cameras or giving a speech to a big group—it would happen unexpectedly, during the intimate moments of campaigning. One day I sat in an ice-cream shop with the mother of two boys, both of whom had been diagnosed on the autism spectrum. They were handsome little guys, active and ready to bolt from their chairs at any moment. As the boys ate, their mother instinctively kept a hand on one and a close eye on his brother, but that didn’t distract her from making a passionate plea. Please, please work for more funding for research, she said. “We’re so close.”

The boys’ mother was right. Autism, Alzheimer’s, diabetes, cancer—science is advancing at a pace people only dreamed of a generation ago, and now we are right on the edge of discoveries that will change the world for millions of people. Besides, money invested in research creates opportunities for businesses to develop. Nanotechnology, MRIs, fiber optics, GPS, tumor detection—federally supported research has propelled our businesses forward, giving us a competitive edge around the world. Even medical research is a solid financial investment. Every $100 spent supporting basic medical research generates an estimated $221 in new business activity. We get healthier and we double our money—that’s how to build a stronger future.

For more than half a century, that was part of America’s strategy: Invest in science. But as a share of our gross domestic product (GDP), today our federal investment in research is half what it was when I was growing up. Half! I thought that now more than ever—with so many discoveries right on the cusp—we should be pushing harder on the accelerator and investing more money in research, not putting on the brakes.