The statistics aren't good. According to recent estimates, women make up just under 20 percent of Congress and less than 25 percent of all state legislatures. Only six of our nation's governors are women. But we are 51 percent of the population. And the research shows that when women participate in government, we make it run better, more collaboratively. Historically, women have needed to be convinced to enter politics. But within weeks of the 2016 presidential election, thousands of women announced they plan to run. And we want them to win. So we're giving them a weekly example of a woman who has run and won. The point: You can, too.

Catherine Cortez Masto was elected to the Senate in 2016, making her the first woman to represent Nevada and the first Latina ever elected to the chamber. A former attorney general, she has championed the rights of the vulnerable, including victims of sex-trafficking crimes, and fought for comprehensive foreclosure reform.

I graduated from college with a finance degree. I was good with math and numbers; it made sense. I went to San Francisco after I graduated from [the University of Nevada, Reno] to get into the market there. But unfortunately, the only job I could get was as a receptionist for one of the financial companies. I decided I had to go back to school to really compete. It came down to business or law school. I chose law school because I felt it would open more doors. I fell in love with the law and never looked back. I never considered working on Wall Street ever again.

I remembered I'd asked my father for advice. He very smart and politically savvy, but also street smart and book smart. He joined the military, went into the army, was sent over to Korea, came home, and married my mother. He started having kids and tried to put himself through college and graduate, but he had family to care for. He couldn't finish. He went on to become county commissioner for 16 years in Southern Nevada and then the president of the Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority. Our door was always open. We had our home phone number in the telephone book, and anybody that needed help would call. They would call in the middle of the night with a concern. He was always available.

Catherine Cortez Masto (left) with her father and older sister. Courtesy Catherine Cortez Masto

It turned out law school wasn't easy. They tell you, "Look to your left. Look to your right. Somebody's not going to be sitting next to you at the end of the year." But it was a whole new world for me. I loved thinking about how the law could be used to help others, how to interpret it that way. I think that probably comes from growing up in a family where my parents were actively involved in the community.

After law school, I went to clerk for one of our state court judges. He had been on the bench 20 years, and I was his last law clerk. He was a brilliant man and is still a mentor to me. His legal secretary, a Hispanic woman, had grown up in Las Vegas. She used to joke about how you could always see my father, pedaling all over the community on his bike. He wanted to engage and talk to people and fight for them. That's the point of getting elected.

Catherine Cortez Masto and her father, Manny Cortez. Courtesy Catherine Cortez Masto

After clerking, I went into private practice and worked for a small law firm of four or five men—all partners. I was the only associate and the only female attorney. I did one pro bono case for this couple who were trying to save their property. We won the case, and we parted at the courthouse and then probably about two or three weeks later, the woman comes to thank me in my office. She gave me a small box of chocolate-covered cherries. I've never forgotten it. It just made such an impression on me. I realized that was what I was missing—fighting for vulnerable people who were looking for somebody to stand up for them.

That's when I started looking around for other opportunities and went to work for one of our governors, Gov. [Bob] Miller. Eventually, I ended up making the decision to run for attorney general. I thought, "Okay, I've done all this stuff behind the scenes, but now it's time to stand up and fight for the issues I care about." I won in 2007.

Catherine Cortez Masto, surrounded by Latina supporters. Courtesy Catherine Cortez Masto

I've come to realize that basically all my bosses and supervisors throughout my career have been male. And I've had great experiences, but it's made me appreciate the importance of diversity and inclusion. When I decided to run for Senate, I knew that, if elected, I'd be the first female Senator from Nevada. But I didn't realize that I'd be the first Latina in the Senate until someone mentioned it to me during the race. Obviously, that's not the reason I ran; I was running for issues we need to deal with that I could fight for here in my state.

I didn't realize that I'd be the first Latina in the Senate until someone mentioned it to me during the race.

When I sit down with women and men, too, one thing that I tell them is, "Nobody can tell you what it's like to run for office. You just have to learn when you step into those shoes and run." But I do tell them that running for office means you must do complete analysis of who you are and why you're running. People will ask you, and you need to be able to explain to them why you're doing it. It's not easy. You need to do a lot of introspection and be honest with yourself. Voters will know whether you've done that work, whether you're sincere or not. And they're trusting you with their most intimate stories, so you better be prepared.

On Election Day, I won and Donald Trump won. I was walking through the hotel where we held our party, and these young Hispanic men and women were coming up to me and crying. They were concerned about their future, their parents, concerned that families would be torn apart. Even to this day, I will be in a convenience store or out in Southern Nevada or in Reno, and people will come up to me and cry. It reminds me that I am here to represent them, their stories, their struggles, their fight. I know that when my grandfather crossed the Rio Grande, somebody was there to support him and to fight for him. I know when my dad was discriminated against because he was a Hispanic, somebody opened doors for him, and that's why he opened doors for others. That's what we do as Americans. If we've succeeded then we help others who are still struggling.

Catherine Cortez Masto with former President Barack Obama. Courtesy Catherine Cortez Masto

Right now, there are 21 female senators in the Senate, and that is more than we have ever had at any one point. It's not enough. We have different perspectives that we bring to the conversation, different issues that we push forward. But we're still fighting for equal pay for equal work. We're still fighting for our right to decide what happens to our bodies. We are hearing from members in Congress who still don't understand what Planned Parenthood does for members of our communities. Women need more seats at the table. Period.

When women apply for a job, we ask ourselves, "Am I qualified? Do I have the experience? Do I have the education? Do I have the abilities?" When a man looks at that job, he thinks, "How much does it pay?" We need to stop second-guessing our abilities. We need to stand up and make ourselves heard.

Mattie Kahn Mattie Kahn is a writer who lives in New York.

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