Queens of the Resistance: Elizabeth Warren: A Biography - Hardcover

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Brenda Jones is best known for her fifteen-year tenure as communications director for an icon of American politics, Rep. John Lewis. All of his published opinions, statements, and speeches, ranging from his introductions of U.S. presidents, to commencement addresses delivered to the Ivy League, and those celebrating his transformative civil rights legacy were penned by Brenda Jones during that time. She collaborated with him on his book, Across That Bridge: A Vision for Change and the Future of America, which won an NAACP Image Award. She has also worked in commercial television news and public broadcasting. 

Krishan Trotman is the co-author of the Queens of the Resistance series and Vice President, Publisher of Legacy Lit, an imprint at Hachette Book Group in New York. She was recently celebrated in the New York Times and Essence magazine as one of the few African American publishing executives. New York magazine called her as one of Publishing’s New Power Club, and she’s been featured in Salon, Shondaland, Cheddar TV, MSN, and more. She has committed over fifteen years to publishing books by and about multicultural voices and social justice. Throughout her career, she has proudly worked with leaders and trailblazers on this frontier such as John Lewis, Stephanie Land, Malcolm Nance, Zerlina Maxwell, Ibtihaj Muhammad, Al Roker, Ed Gordon, Lindy West, and other dynamic celebrity and bestselling authors. She is the self-described Beyoncé of Books, and mom to her son Bleu.

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THE TAO OF BETSY

I promise that you'll never find another like me.

-Taylor Swift, "ME!"

Elizabeth Warren is a five-foot-eight boss, a woman who starts the fight and wins it, an indisputable Queen of the Resistance. She has led the battle for the middle class since the 1960s. Warren has a plan, and she persists, honey. Snap. Snap-that's just how she rolls. She's a political samurai and will go after a meaningful cause like a bulldog after a bone. In any race or debate, she is a top contender. The Warren jogs out to the podium, appearing unassuming in a soft-knit, crayon-blue blazer and rimless glasses, but then suddenly she's throwing blows like Muhammad Ali-at rich politicians attempting to buy the presidency, big banks, and Wall Street, or men trying to dictate women's choices. Warren comes to slay and annihilate these dirty tricksters. She's also equally as excited to learn, eager to educate, and wants to touch the beating heart of the American people. But don't be fooled by this skinny little girl from Norman, Oklahoma. Warren can land a swing, like a Balboa, to get her point across, and delivers politics for the knockout: facts, analysis, what's right, not wrong, for your nana's healthcare in West Palm Beach. She'll work you through an economics report with the skill and precision of a surgeon. Trump, beware. She's done the research, got the blueprints, and will undo you.

What makes her a feared opponent is her willingness to drill down to the facts in a way that only yo mama could do. Her research is deep and wide, and, trust me, she's got receipts. She'll read you on financial law and equity with such deep affection it'll sound like a romance novel. Your mind will be opened, you will see a new vision of what life could be in America. And she's effective, this force is a political heavyweight!

Just when you thought the "good guys" were dead-you know, the good guys who hurry in on white horses kicking up a cloud of dust ready to save the day? The same white men we see over and over again coming to the rescue-Thor, the Hulk, and Iron Man types, rockin' configurations of the Avengers, gathering their powers, ready to pounce back the forces of evil in a big showdown one more time? When the skies are particularly cloudy, and you find yourself mad at the universe, sick of the ongoing media headlines and news announcing a corrupt president has gotten off the hook yet again-including a 448-page report that suggest reason for impeachment-and you're wondering whether the proverbial good guys are tired, whipped, and tucked in bed, then you might take a long, hard, very serious look at Elizabeth Warren. She's no good guy; she's the best woman!

While most of us are lost in deep meditative thought, picking our noses or sipping our merlot trying to figure out why our hard work can't seem to put us ahead, Elizabeth "Betsy" Warren has been investigating those same questions for us and configuring answers about what happened to the American dream for the last forty years. And she's also been trying to do something about it for the last forty years. . . . That sort of tenacity, bullish spirit, supernatural slay power makes you realize the good ol, guys coming to the rescue just might be the gals.

She has been listening in to American life like a studious internist for decades, to find causes and effects, to gather data, draw conclusions, and develop her own form of quantitative easing. She's taken the stethoscope of her mind and carefully examined the American chest, its labored breathing, its sputtering and wheezing. She has been sounding the alarm, trying to tell us in her own professorial way how to fix our systems, and why all that's wrong might not be our fault. Warren's no diva, no duchess wannabe. There's no airs about Warren. She'd chug a beer before sipping wine. She's busy. There's work to be done and this queen is determined to do it.

So where did this Queen of the Resistance come from?

She's Betsy Herring. That's what her mama called her. Her daddy was Don Herring and her mother was born Pauline "Polly" Reed. Her parents grew up in a small town in Wetumka, Oklahoma. Her daddy's family owned a hardware store. After some difficulties in the family-more on that in a moment-Don wore many hats: he sold cars, fixed fences, and worked as a salesman at Montgomery Ward department store in the rug section. After the war, he and Pauline moved from place to place, one step ahead of the next bill collector and wherever Don could find work.

The Herrings had three boys, Don, John, and David . . . and when their sons were all nearly grown and about to leave home, in the summer of 1949, surprise, surprise! Baby Betsy was born on June 22, a Cancer-creative, thoughtful, emotional, and highly loyal and empathetic to others, according to the stars. Betsy's daddy dubbed her the whipped cream with "the cherry on top." Polly was thirty-seven, and had thought her childbirth days were over, but finally she got a girl. A girl she'd adorn with pink bows, sparkles, and red shoes. Hooray!

(Feminists, hush, Betsy would eventually put gender stereotypes on blast in her politics.)

Still, the Herrings were considered a middle-class family, and a surprise baby bundle of joy wasn't a threat to their livelihood. Despite the challenges he faced, Betsy's father was an idealist, dedicated to the dream of becoming the American suburban family emblem: two parents and a few kids, living on one income-her father's, of course. Her mother readily embraced the role of stay-at-home mom, which was typical at that time, otay. They owned a home in Norman, twenty miles south of Oklahoma City. The Herrings were no replica of The Truman Show or Stepford Wives. They were not rich, but for years they managed to hack it as homeowners and were considered middle-class; they had a stable footing with the seeds they'd planted. Her parents were able to buy their home with the help of a federal loan-Americans back then didn't need to be millionaires to succeed. Looking back at that time, Elizabeth Warren often remembers it fondly-sort of wistfully, like an Alice who had seen the magical flowers of Wonderland yet somehow they'd withered away.

But the stability she'd felt at home growing up was not to last.

In fact, it would briskly be pulled from under her in what felt like the blink of an eye, leaving a feeling that seeps at the feet of a terrible coming.

"YES, MISS BETSY, YOU CAN!"

I know I can be what I wanna be.

-Nas, "I Know I Can"

It was Elizabeth's second-grade teacher, Mrs. Lee, who first told her that she could in fact, "do something."

It was the 1950s, and women like Mrs. Lee were a mystery, a puzzle. She was "a woman with sturdy shoes, an ample bosom, and a surprisingly gravelly voice," as Warren described in her book This Fight Is Our Fight, but she was an enigma to young Betsy coming of age in a world where the worth of a woman was judged by how well she kept her home, the neatness of her children's appearance, her award-winning casseroles, and the longevity of her marriage. Some women had worked in factories during the war, but working was still largely considered a mandatory drudgery for single women, a penance for those who somehow missed the memo on how to get and keep a man-it was not a life to aspire to, Beyonce.

Being a housewife was the everyday luxury for neighborhood wives with respect and social standing. It was the goal of every little girl. This would become a concern for Betsy, fellow A-cups, and any tomboy who dared to show her true colors. Early on, Betsy knew that she did not have all the...