State Rep. Maxine Berman is
still fighting for the "causer

red wool coat and matching
hat to begin her short trek
from the Roosevelt House of-
fice building to the Capitol.
She talks about issues; many
issues.
"Every hour you can talk
about a different issue," she
says. "This job is never bor-
ing. It's a wonderful job.
There are a lot of things you
can do. I've had direct im-
pact."
Her unbending position on
choice seems to be a constant
press draw.
Unfortunately, she says,
the other issues just aren't
viewed as sexy.
Still, she is equally
satisfied with her work on
House committees, espe-
cially elections, which she
chaired; and consumers, on
which she was vice chair.
As chair of elections, Ms.
Berman was instrumental in
designing a voter registra-
tion reform package which

"I'm proud to be a
Jewish
representative.
There aren't that
many of us."

Rep. Maxine Berman

broadened the rules of a
deputy registrar. Now,
unlike a few years ago,
deputies can register voters
in counties other than those
in which they live.
She loves to talk about one
bill she helped draft which
slipped through the
Legislature with little
discussion. The bill, which
later became the lemon law,
protects purchasers of
automobiles.
Session is quick. There are
just a few resolutions on the
House agenda. Yet con-
troversy is brewing on the
Senate side. Just moments
after an informed consent
bill is introduced in the
Senate, a United Press
International reporter is
standing beside Ms. Ber-
man's chamber seat.
If enacted, informed con-
sent would require women to
wait 24 hours before obtain-
ing an abortion. The bill
would require doctors to
show each woman a photo of
a fetus at the age of the one

she was carrying. Doctors
would also have to tell wo-
men about the possible
psychological impact of
abortions and their alter-
natives.
Suddenly, her quiet day
takes a turn. Right to life
forces, led by Sen. Jack
Welborn, R-Kalamazoo,
were responding to the state
Appeals Court decision to
strike down a ban on state-
funded abortions for poor
women.
Right-to-lifers were com-
paring the bill to previous
legislation Ms. Berman in-
troduced requiring doctors to
inform women about the
various options now available
to treat breast cancer.
Her adrenaline is pump-
ing. She quickly walks back
to her office, where there is a
stack of phone messages
from reporters. She wants to
return the calls before the
MEA luncheon.
"This is not irony," Ms.
Berman tells one reporter.
"This is repulsive. This is
their most blatant attempt
to force their religious
perspective on everyone else.
"They are assuming wo-
men are dumb," she tells
another reporter.
"Let's say you have a 33-
year-old woman with a Ph.D.
They are assuming this
woman is too dumb to know
what she is doing. It is a
terrible prostitution of logic
to make a comparison bet-
ween informed consent for
abortion and informed con-
sent for breast cancer."
Next week, she tells one
reporter, pro-choice forces
might hold a press con-
ference. She is calm and
cracks a few jokes.
"You can never lose your
sense of humor," she says.
"That's the secret to this job.
Around here, all you can do
is laugh. Otherwise, you will
get ulcers."
The luncheon is long.
Usually, she doesn't stay for
the whole thing. But, after
all, she was a teacher before
a legislator.
Born in Detroit, Ms. Ber-
man moved to Oak Park in
1955. She graduated from
Oak Park High School. After
earning a teaching cer-
tificate and a BA in English
from the University of Mich-

igan, she taught English at
her alma mater high school.
After 10 years of teaching
and the lingering threat of
annual pink. slips, she was
ready for a change. She grew
tired of not knowing
whether she would have a
job the next year.
Although her career in
politics only guarantees two
years at a time, she says she
is judged on performance,
which gives her a bit more
control over her future.
For the four years between
teaching and elected politics,
Ms. Berman worked a few
jobs. She did free-lance
writing, public relations and
community research and
was executive director for a
statewide citizen's network
organized to lobby legis-
lators on consumer issues.
She was also a member of a

statewide Michigan Job
Training Coordinating
Council.
Ms. Berman had always
been politically active,
though she admits the idea
of running for public office
never crossed her mind. Yet,
when the state districts were
redrawn for the 1982 race
after the 1980 census, a new
district was created. The
Democratic Party urged her
to rim.
"On balance, I like it," Ms.
Berman says. "It is an honor
to serve and do things for
people. You give up privacy
and family life. But it has its
merits.
"I always thought it was
better to be the king-maker
than the king," she says. "I
sometimes still think so."
A regular on the phone
with reporters, lobbyists and

Ms. Berman has a
question for the
House speaker.

I

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