With Massachusetts and much of the country mourning the loss of Sen. Edward Kennedy, the anniversary of another monumental political event will likely go unnoticed. It was 89 years ago today that women got the right to vote, and that’s an anniversary worth noting as the race to succeed Kennedy begins. Women are still radically under-represented in politics and, in Massachusetts, often seem subject to a quota of one: one woman in our congressional delegation, one who is a big player at the State House, one on Boston’s City Council, etc., etc., etc. At the highest level of politics, the quota drops to, well, zero. Massachusetts has never elected a female governor or US Senator.
But that could change if Attorney General Martha Coakley runs in the special election to replace Kennedy. The state’s only female constitutional officer, Coakley faces several likely contenders with deep pockets: Congressmen Stephen Lynch and Michael Capuano, as well as former congressman Joseph Kennedy II, all have over a million dollars in their federal campaign accounts. (It happens that the smallest purse, as it were, among the Massachusetts congressional delegation belongs to the only female, Rep. Nikki Tsongas.)
Coakley’s own financial status is uncertain. She has $144,000 in her state account, but she can’t use that money to run for a federal office — unless she returns it and asks donors to re-donate to a Senate campaign. She has acknowledged taking advantage of a federal election law that allows potential candidates to “test the waters” for a federal run by collecting donations without disclosing donor names or amounts. Testing the waters essentially just means opening a private bank account, says Federal Election Commission spokeswoman Judith Ingram, but anyone who wants to roll the funds over into a campaign account must keep accurate records and abide by contribution limits.
So if Coakley becomes an official candidate and wants to roll that private account into a campaign account, she’ll need to release information about her donors and her bottom line. The question of whether the loss of a beloved public servant could lead to the breaking of a persistent glass ceiling may depend, in part, on that bottom line.

