From the Mouths of Babes
The Ambassador stood in front of the closed French doors looking out across the veranda, her back toward Bruno. She was somewhat uncomfortable much preferring to conduct these adversarial encounters in her office, sitting behind the big desk, looking down on her prey. “Why do you continue to act as an obstructionist to my policy goals?” she demanded as she turned to face him.
“Ma’am, my intention is not to obstruct. And I certainly do not desire to interfere with the implementation of foreign policy. But I cannot just blindly approve bills without knowing what they are for.”
“Well, it is only one hundred euro. Hardly worth the time this conversation is taking,” was the haughty retort.
Yes ma’am, I understand…”
“Then why are you here?”
“I was hoping that in order to avoid these time consuming discussions in the future we could to take a few moments to discuss the government accountability guidelines…”
“It’s a doctor bill,” she snapped.
“A doctor bill,” Bruno stumbled over the words. “I understand it is from a doctor, but what is it for?”
“That,” she exclaimed in an indignant tone, “is a matter of private concern.”
“Who is it for?” Bruno responded in exasperation.
“For me,” she continued pompously.
“Are you alright, ma’am?” Bruno could fake sincerity when he really needed to.
“It was not serious. I woke up with a headache the morning after the gala and called the doctor. But thank you for your concern.”
“Ma’am,” Bruno hesitantly proceeded. “Under these circumstances this would be considered a personal expense.”
“Why?” she snapped. “Because I’m wealthy? Due to my personal success in life am I expected to fully fund this entire Mission during my tenure?” she questioned sarcastically.
“No ma’am. It’s not that. We are all responsible for our own medical bills. Most employees turn theirs in to their insurance provider.”
“The tribulations I must endure,” she muttered to herself. “Very well then. Enough of these trivial matters. I have important work to do today. Give the bill to Lynn,” she said as she turned on her heel and marched out of the room.
The work was important. Among the most important of all important issues facing Madeleine Howell: restoration of bilateral relations between the United States and Nordeland.
She sat in the back of her limousine relishing her first official speaking engagement as ambassador. Situated on the campus of The University of Nordeland was the premier focus of American outreach in Nordeland, the American Corner. In the heart of the capitol city of one of the wealthiest countries in the first world, with a populace among the most well educated, there sat a library, fully staffed, stocked and funded by United States taxpayers. A library that a small town in America would be proud of, and have to fund themselves. This day The Ambassador was hosting the organization Nordeland International in the presentation of an award to the junior high student who wrote the best essay regarding international relations in the modern world. It was to be an inspiring event challenging the future generation of leaders to take an interest in the world outside their own borders. The embassy Public Diplomacy department co-sponsored the contest supplying the grand prize, a weeklong trip to Washington DC for the winner and a chaperone, including a meeting with the Secretary of State, followed by a week in Disney World. Nothing says “America” more than a mouse.
Gretchen Godbold mingled with the guests, a collection of teachers, students and parents, while keeping an eye on the front entrance for the arrival of The Ambassador. Seeing her approach through the glass doors, Gretchen scurried to greet The Ambassador and escorted her past the librarian’s desk and computer terminals to the sunlight filled arena beneath the glass rotunda where the ceremony was to take place.
Just as it should, all attention turned to The Ambassador. Many who observed Madeleine Howell thought her unorganized or witless as she was chronically behind schedule and late for everything. But it was more of a subconscious calculation than personality defect. By being late she was always the center of attention. And it was all too easy to lay the blame on her pressing schedule… The demands of ambassadorship!
Upon ushering The Ambassador to her seat alongside the other honored guests, Gretchen gave a nod to the director of Nordeland International that the ceremony could begin.
Following a few kind words of welcome The Ambassador was invited to the lectern. She stood tall and proud, looking out across the small gathering. “I want to thank everyone involved in this truly inspiring program of education for allowing me as ambassador from the United States to participate. This is actually my first official speech as ambassador and I am thrilled that it is to acknowledge such an accomplishment. Especially the accomplishment of such a bright young woman. I am reminded of a time in my life when I was first challenged to consider a world outside my own. When I was about this young ladies age, maybe thirteen, I entered a similar contest sponsored by my family’s philanthropic organization. Winning that competition was the first step in a lifetime of inquiring, learning, leading and accomplishment. From my undergraduate studies at the University of Virginia through law school at Georgetown University I continued to question the status quo and push back the barriers that have traditionally held women back. After graduation I again expanded the boundaries that have restrained women by holding a series of positions of progressively greater influence, responsibility and authority in my family’s company until I was named the first woman CEO, and later the first woman chairman of the board. And so in keeping with my personal tradition of excellence and accomplishment it is with great pleasure that I present this first place award to Miss Tiina Pikkonen for her winning essay.”
Amid a round of polite applause Tiina, face beaming with pride, approached the podium in order to read her honored work for the audience to hear. In precisely articulated, text book English she began, “America: Slave Master to the World…”
I Am Woman
Bebe Buchanan was driven to achieve. Achieve what? Achievement for the sake of achievement. And achieve she did. An impressive biographical narrative is always useful. In her youth she excelled in school winning a ticket away from the poverty stricken family farm in the form of full scholarships to college. Never slowing down, four years later she graduated magnum cum laude. Following a similarly spectacular tenure in law school she accepted a position as the first female clerk for a justice on the Arizona State Supreme Court. It was in Phoenix that she first began making political connections. It was a formative time in her life. Before, she had been the poor girl from the farm on a scholarship. Somehow out of place. But she had earned Phoenix. She belonged there. She was determined to fit in with the power brokers.
She was smart. Smart enough to know it took more than just a good education to assimilate with the rich and shameless. She needed to belong. She needed to know what they knew beyond the classroom. She began a deliberate program of self-renewal taking gourmet cooking classes, attending wine tastings, visiting museums, and attending lectures and readings. As a girl she had always loved riding so she began to frequent the equestrian eventing circuit. She even learned to fly. In a few short years she transformed herself into a renaissance woman, effortlessly comfortable in the mountain states society circles.
Her realm of experience began to expand along with her opportunities. Exploiting her new found relationships she moved from court clerk into corporate America, climbing the ladder of success. Her extracurricular activities became more political as she volunteered in local campaigns. While her corporate stature increased, her sway in the local party increased. She became very influential. At least in certain circles. Before she turned thirty years old she was a dominate woman in a man’s world. And she was damn proud of herself.
As the years passed Bebe continued her upward progression: high profile jobs with Fortune 500 companies, political appointments to boards and commissions, and she even married well. Blake Buchanan was a self-made man having personally built his company by hand into one of the largest computer manufacturers in the world, and himself into one of the richest men in the country.
Together they became a political force in their own right. He ran for the Senate and won. She ran for Governor and lost. It was a stinging defeat administered by a MAN. A slight she would never forget. As their locus of power shifted to Washington her ambition and desire went national. In an attempt at rejuvenation she immersed herself in party politics. Storming the Washington DC cocktail circuit she soon had friends and contacts throughout the establishment. Leveraging Blake’s influence she was named to various federal advisory committees: NASA, FAA, the State Department, allowing her to boast expertise across a wide variety of issues facing modern society. But in Washington nothing breeds status like money. Not personal wealth but donations to the cause. Crisscrossing the country she held fundraisers in her Washington DC home, the weekend place in Virginia, her estate in Connecticut, her estate in Arizona, her thoroughbred horse farm in Kentucky, her ranch in Montana, her penthouse in Chicago, her private island in Florida, and the beach house in California. She asked, solicited, coerced, cajoled, besieged, badgered, bedeviled, beseeched, harassed, harried, and hounded until the coffers overflowed and she was named a Party Pathfinder. Success bought influence and influence brought appointments to ever more prestigious positions culminating in her current post as the President’s Special Envoy. She had risen from the depths of defeat. She was once again the alpha female shattering the bonds of oppression and expanding the horizons for women.
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