august 5–18, 2019 | new york 35force you to recite your times table. The
phrase has already been used to critique
Warren’s political demeanor, perhaps most
memorably by Boston Democratic consul-
tant Dan Payne. In 2012, Payne wrote a
radio segment quoting women complain-
ing about Warren’s “hectoring, know-it-all
style”; he claimed she treated delegates to
the Democratic convention “as if [they]
were her pupils” and advised her to “stop
the finger-wagging; it adds to her strict
schoolmarm appearance and bossy man-
ner.” Back in 2005, when Warren was tes-
tifying in front of the Senate on bankrupt-
cy reform, challenging then-Senator Joe
Biden on stripping protections from fami-
lies, Biden dismissed her with a slick, back-
row smirk: “Okay, okay, I got it; you’re very
good, professor.” More recently, Demo-
cratic adviser David Axelrod observed to
The New York Times Magazine’s Emily
Bazelon that one of Warren’s drawbacks is
that “she’s lecturing ... people feel like she’s
talking down to them.”
Much of this is uncut, misogynistic
claptrap, but Axelrod’s swipe edges to-
ward a legitimate concern: If the election
of our current president makes anything
clear, it’s that many Americans do not
want high-minded talk from their lead-
ers. There is fair reason to worry that a
candidate who is literally a professor runs
the risk of alienating rather than energiz-
ing voters. In the primary field, Warren
polls far higher with college-educated
voters than she does with voters without
a college degree.
And that doesn’t begin to touch on
what would happen should she get out of
the primary: In February, Donald Trump
Jr. offered a preview of how his father will
likely frame a fight against an educator,
telling the young conservatives at one of
his father’s rallies, “You don’t have to be
indoctrinated by these loser teachers.” It’s
obviously a broader Republican line of
argument. In July, former Wisconsin gov-
ernor Scott Walker tweeted about “left-
wing college professors” embracing so-
cialism and showing “disdain for
America.” Of course, Walker lost his 2018
gubernatorial reelection bid to former
public-school teacher and administrator
Tony Evers, in the same election cycle that
Jahana Hayes, once named Teacher of the
Year by Barack Obama, became the first
black woman to represent Connecticut in
the House of Representatives.
In fact, with waves of teachers’ strikes
politicizing voters in many states, it seems
possible that 2020 could easily be framed
as a contest between teachers coming for
Republicans and Republicans eager to
vilify teachers. The role our current presi-dent would play in such a setup takes no
imagination: He is the ultimate back-of-
the-class bully, mocking and menacing
the woman with the answers standing at
the front. We have seen this before.
When I asked Warren whether these
are dynamics she worries about, she an-
swered with an emphatic no: “Nobody
wants to be talked down to—nobody.
That’s true whether we’re talking about
big national audiences or law students or
fifth-graders or little tiny kids.” But, she
said, this is not at all at odds with the workshe has done as an educator, because
“that’s not what teaching, good teaching,
is about.”
Instead, she said, “good teaching is
about starting where you are and the
teacher having the confidence in you to
know that if you had a little bit more infor-
mation, a little bit more time on this, if you
thought about this from a little different
perspective, you might move a little bit.”It should probably go without
saying that, as a child growing up
in Norman, Oklahoma, Warren,
then called Betsy Herring, loved
school. It was an era in which not
many paths were open to ambi-
tious young women. But her second-grade
teacher, Mrs. Lee, “of ample bosom and
many hugs,” Warren said, took her aside
and said, “ ‘You know, Miss Betsy, you
could be a teacher.’ And bam! I was sold. It
changed my whole vision of myself.”Mrs. Lee put the 8-year-old in charge of
a less advanced reading group. The experi-
ence of helping struggling readers string
letters together into words was intoxicat-
ing. Speaking to me in Cambridge, wearing
an oversize button-down and baggy chino
shorts, her hair bobby-pinned out of her
eyes, Warren recalled the process of break-
ing words into their parts until “that flash,
that spark, that I went from not knowing to
knowing. It happens in their face, and it
happens then in my heart, instantly. My
brain. It’s enormously intimate.”After that day with the reading group,
Warren has written, “I harassed the neigh-
borhood children to read out loud so I
could play teacher, and when I couldn’t get
any takers,” that’s when she began to map
out that rigorous curriculum for her dolls.
But just because Warren’s ambitions
had been electrified didn’t mean her path
was clear. “My mother wanted me to get
married to a good provider and have ba-
bies and be safe; she didn’t want me to do
anything else,” Warren said. Her three
older brothers joined the military, worked
in construction, started a business. “But
me? My fortunes would be tied to the man
I married.”
By the time Warren was in high school,
whenever her mother heard her discuss-
ing a teaching career, she would, as
Warren tells it, “break into the conversa-
tion and explain to whomever I was talk-
ing to, ‘But she doesn’t want to be an old-
maid schoolteacher ... Right, Betsy?’” TheWarren at an American Federation of Teachers town-hall event in May.
PHOTOGRAPHS: PREVIOUS SPREAD, LEIF SKOOGFORS/CORBIS VIA GETTY IMAGES; THIS SPREAD, MATT ROURKE/AP PHOTOY ___ DD ___ AD ___ PD ___ EICTRANSMITTED________ COPY ___ DD ___ AD ___ PD ___ EIC1619FEA_Elizabeth Warren_lay [Print]_35541956.indd 35 8/2/19 6:37 PMaugust 5–18, 2019 | new york 35force you to recite your times table. The
phrase has already been used to critique
Warren’s political demeanor, perhaps most
memorably by Boston Democratic consul-
tant Dan Payne. In 2012, Payne wrote a
radio segment quoting women complain-
ing about Warren’s “hectoring, know-it-all
style”; he claimed she treated delegates to
the Democratic convention “as if [they]
were her pupils” and advised her to “stop
the finger-wagging; it adds to her strict
schoolmarm appearance and bossy man-
ner.”Backin2005,whenWarrenwastes-
tifyinginfrontoftheSenateonbankrupt-
cy reform, challenging then-Senator Joe
Biden on stripping protections from fami-
lies, Biden dismissed her with a slick, back-
row smirk: “Okay, okay, I got it; you’re very
good, professor.” More recently,Demo-
cratic adviser David Axelrod observed to
The New York Times Magazine’s Emily
Bazelon that one of Warren’s drawbacks is
that “she’s lecturing ... people feel like she’s
talking down to them.”
Much of this is uncut, misogynistic
claptrap, but Axelrod’s swipe edges to-
ward a legitimate concern: If theelection
of our current president makes anything
clear, it’s that many Americans do not
want high-minded talk from their lead-
ers. There is fair reason to worry thata
candidate who is literally a professor runs
the risk of alienating rather than energiz-
ing voters. In the primary field,Warren
polls far higher with college-educated
voters than she does with voterswithout
a college degree.
And that doesn’t begin to touchon
what would happen should she getoutof
the primary: In February, Donald Trump
Jr. offered a preview of how his fatherwill
likely frame a fight against an educator,
telling the young conservatives atoneof
his father’s rallies, “You don’t havetobe
indoctrinated by these loser teachers.”It’s
obviously a broader Republican lineof
argument. In July, former Wisconsingov-
ernor Scott Walker tweeted about“left-
wing college professors” embracingso-
cialism and showing “disdain for
America.” Of course, Walker lost his 2018
gubernatorial reelection bid toformer
public-school teacher and administrator
Tony Evers, in the same election cyclethat
Jahana Hayes, once named Teacherofthe
Year by Barack Obama, becamethe first
black woman to represent Connecticut in
the House of Representatives.
In fact, with waves of teachers’ strikes
politicizing voters in many states,it seems
possible that 2020 could easily be framed
as a contest between teachers coming for
Republicans and Republicans eager to
vilify teachers. The role our current presi-
dent would play in such a setup takes no
imagination: He is the ultimate back-of-
the-class bully, mocking and menacing
the woman with the answers standing at
the front. We have seen this before.
When I asked Warren whether these
are dynamics she worries about, she an-
swered with an emphatic no: “Nobody
wants to be talked down to—nobody.
That’s true whether we’re talking about
big national audiences or law students or
fifth-graders or little tiny kids.” But, she
said,thisis notatallat oddswiththeworkshehasdoneasaneducator, because
“that’s notwhat teaching,goodteaching,
is about.”
Instead,shesaid,“goodteaching is
aboutstartingwhereyouareandthe
teacherhavingtheconfidenceinyouto
knowthatif youhada littlebitmoreinfor-
mation,a littlebitmoretimeonthis,if you
thoughtaboutthisfroma littledifferent
perspective,youmightmovea littlebit.”It shouldprobablygo without
sayingthat, asa childgrowingup
inNorman,Oklahoma,Warren,
then called Betsy Herring, loved
school. It was an era in which not
many paths were open to ambi-
tious young women. But her second-grade
teacher, Mrs. Lee, “of ample bosom and
many hugs,” Warren said, took her aside
and said, “ ‘You know, Miss Betsy, you
could be a teacher.’ And bam! I was sold. It
changed my whole vision of myself.”Mrs. Lee put the 8-year-old in charge of
a less advanced reading group. The experi-
ence of helping struggling readers string
letters together into words was intoxicat-
ing. Speaking to me in Cambridge, wearing
an oversize button-down and baggy chino
shorts, her hair bobby-pinned out of her
eyes, Warren recalled the process of break-
ing words into their parts until “that flash,
that spark, that I went from not knowing to
knowing. It happens in their face, and it
happens then in my heart, instantly. My
brain.It’senormouslyintimate.”Afterthat day withthereadinggroup,
Warrenhaswritten,“I harassedtheneigh-
borhoodchildrentoreadoutloudsoI
couldplayteacher, andwhenI couldn’t get
anytakers,”that’swhenshebegantomap
outthatrigorouscurriculumforherdolls.
ButjustbecauseWarren’sambitions
hadbeenelectrifieddidn’t meanherpath
wasclear.“My motherwantedmetoget
marriedtoa goodproviderandhaveba-
biesandbesafe;shedidn’t wantmetodo
anythingelse,” Warren said. Her three
olderbrothersjoined the military, worked
inconstruction,started a business. “But
me? My fortunes would be tied to the man
I married.”
By the time Warren was in high school,
whenever her mother heard her discuss-
ing a teaching career, she would, as
Warren tells it, “break into the conversa-
tion and explain to whomever I was talk-
ing to, ‘But she doesn’t want to be an old-
maid schoolteacher ... Right, Betsy?’” TheWarrenatanAmericanFederationofTeacherstown-halleventinMay.