This story was produced for the Colorado Capitol News Alliance.
On a recent Sunday in January, first-year state Rep. Yara Zokaie leaned against the counter in her sun-lit kitchen in Fort Collins, with some empty mason jars and sliced lemons set out in front of her. Her three boys — Remy, Roman and Ray, ages eight, five and one — wanted to make lemonade.
“We're not usually that adorable of a family,” Zokaie joked of the cozy scene.
They’re clearly a tight-knit bunch. Zokaie is usually eager to volunteer in her kids’ classrooms and happy to bear the title of Room Parent. When it comes to birthday parties for her kids and husband or decorating her home for whatever the next holiday is, she goes “all out.”
But this spring she’s had to pull back from those responsibilities as she adjusts to new ones at the state Capitol.
“I realized that I can't pass all my bills, spend time with my kids, see my husband, travel back and forth and plan a Valentine's Day party,” she said. “That crushed me to say, ‘You know, I'm gonna have to give up something, and I think it's the Valentine's Day party.’”
Zokaie is a tax attorney and former deputy county assessor who had never held elected office before her run for the statehouse last fall. She’s also Colorado’s first Iranian-American lawmaker. Joining the legislature has been an adjustment for her whole family.
“She says she’s gonna be home at a certain time. But then by that time, it takes another, like, three hours for her to get home,” middle son, Roman, complained from across the kitchen.
As the legislative session goes on, those three-hour delays are likely to get more frequent and run even longer. It’s not easy for Zokaie to be away from her family so much, but it’s also her family – and the challenges they’ve faced – that motivated her to run for office in the first place.
A session full of new faces
Term limits, resignations and electoral upsets mean nearly a third of Colorado’s 65 House members are new to the statehouse this year.
It’s a different story in the Senate, where there are just three new senators who didn’t previously serve as representatives.
The newcomers come from different walks of life and bring all sorts of experiences to their new jobs. CPR News and KUNC spent the first weeks of session checking in with two freshmen reps — one a Democrat from a college town, the other a Republican from the Eastern Plains. Together they provide a window into the demands of serving in the legislature and the kinds of people who take on the responsibility of making laws for the state.
The legislature may only be in session for a third of the year, but during that time, the work can be virtually non-stop, requiring big life changes for lawmakers. “Work-life balance” is not a phrase frequently heard at the Capitol.
A young lawmaker with big ambitions
“I don't sleep as well at night right now because there's so much noise,” GOP Rep. Dusty Johnson explained early in the session. She’s traded the tractors and cows of Morgan County for the sirens and street sounds of Denver.
At 29, Johnson is the youngest lawmaker serving this session, by just a few months. Her mom and grandparents came to the Capitol to watch her get officially sworn in last month.
By the time she was 5 or 6 years old, Johnson was already telling people she wanted to be president. In grade school, she could recite the names of all the presidents — in order. Elephants, the symbol of the Republican Party, are her favorite animal, although she said that has more to do with Dumbo than politics.
“And so it's perfect to do everything around that,” she said of the elephant decorations dotting her office.
Johnson’s ambitions got a big setback when, at 19 years old, doctors diagnosed her with an aggressive tumor in her knee. Instead of going to West Point, where she’d already been accepted, she spent the next seven years in and out of hospitals, nearly losing her leg before her insurance consented to cover a knee replacement.
“It took almost a year and a half to get diagnosed correctly with the tumor that I had. And then I had nine total surgeries and the tumor would come back within two, three weeks to a couple months every time, and more aggressive,” she recalled.
The ordeal had an impact on her mental health.
“I was not in a good place. I will say that willingly because I think the biggest thing is to end the stigma. It's OK not to be OK. It's not weakness.”
Johnson now sits on the Health and Human Services Committee. Her experiences with the healthcare system and what patients have to go through give her a perspective that a lot of lawmakers don’t have, one that she’s already applying to her work.
“Some people said, ‘You're only 29,’” she said. “I'm like, I've had a ton of life experience in a short amount of time going through that.”
She was raised by a single mom, and the family went through some real hardships as she was growing up on the Eastern Plains; they were even homeless a few times. That is part of what prompted her to want to be a voice, especially for rural Coloradans.
“We have less resources and that very much hit home every single time,” she said.
One other thing that came out of Johnson’s health struggles is her dog, Peaches. Johnson got the Shih Tzu and Lhasa Apso mix to provide emotional support as she endured chemo and other treatments. Now Peaches spends her days in Johnson’s office across the street from the Capitol, helping break the ice as she gets to know her legislative colleagues.
The realities of the job
Unlike a lot of first-year lawmakers, Johnson isn’t new to the Capitol or the legislative process. She worked as an aide for several Republican senators, most recently Sen. Rod Pelton, getting familiar with everything from scheduling meetings and monitoring policy to responding to constituents. But she said having the title of representative has been a big adjustment. She’s been surprised to discover how much people in the Capitol, especially lobbyists, want to talk with her.
“I will walk out of the chamber and there are seven, eight people trying to get my attention at the same time,” she said. “It's definitely different to have a title. I would joke that as an aide you'd stay against the wall, you're seen, not heard, you can move in and out with no one really noticing.”
Now as a lawmaker, she’s still handling a lot of the traditional aide work herself because she’s asked her legislative assistant to stay in the district.
“He'll go to events for me that I can't make, which I think is more important than him being here,” she said. “Then I still have that open ear out there.”
Zokaie also maintains a tight connection to her home district, in a different way. For both family and financial reasons, she’s commuting back and forth each day between Fort Collins and Denver. She doesn’t feel like she has any other choice.
“I do not have the money to buy a second home or to rent a second home,” Zokaie said. “So it's a different experience than maybe people who are local and are here, or for most legislators who are further out, who have the means to have another home out here.”
She knows she’s going to be pulling some long hours in Denver, particularly as contentious policy proposals come up late in the session, which is why she has a sofa sleeper in her office at the Capitol.
“I'm not necessarily planning to spend nights in my office,” she said, “but if I ever need a nap, I'm really excited about this couch.”
As a young parent with a growing family — one son was born early in her campaign last year — Zokaie faced some tough financial choices when she considered getting into public service.
“I feel really privileged that I can do this, and I took a massive pay cut to be able to do it,” she said. “It definitely hurts, and it is a huge barrier. There are a lot of people who can't serve because of the low pay.”
Colorado’s legislators have historically been considered “citizen lawmakers” — members of the wider community who only work in politics during the session from January to May. The pay is currently around $48,000 a year, plus a per diem allowance during session, with the idea they will have other jobs in the rest of the year.
But most lawmakers say the reality is that the job continues all year round, with their time away from the state Capitol spent meeting with constituents and developing bills. Some legislative committees also continue meeting throughout the year.
A lot of lawmakers, including Zokaie, believe the system of part-time pay for a full-time job is outdated and unfair.
“It feels very much designed for people who are wealthy or retired,” she said. “And then our laws reflect those values, instead of the perspective of young families.”
Zokaie said the only way she’s actually able to do the job is because her husband is also an attorney and his salary can support their family financially.
The adjustment is also worth it for her because she sees her legislative work as another important way to support her kids; protecting their future is one of the main reasons she ran for office in the first place. At the same time, leaving the Capitol and getting back home to see them gives her hope and motivation when the job gets hard.
“Going back to my kids who are just excited to see snow for the first time, or my 1-year-old who is cackling at a car driving by, and just seeing the simple joy, and that reminder of, I'm doing this to make sure that they live in a more equitable world, is just so necessary for me to be able to show up here every day,” she said.
Bringing local priorities to the state Capitol
The part of Colorado Johnson represents — seven counties in the northeast corner of the state — is very rural and very red.
One of her top priorities is to make sure rural communities get the resources they need, especially by boosting rural hospitals and making sure local pharmacies don’t shut down. Water and agriculture are also big issues in her district.
As a member of the Republican minority, Johnson needs Democratic support to pass anything. Her first bill is a bipartisan effort to cut some of the red tape around permits to dig a water well. Another of her proposals — this one to eliminate enrollment caps at Colorado State University’s veterinary school — passed the House unanimously.
“I know that's not going to be a thing on everything. It's just nice to get that started to have my feet under me,” she said.
Zokaie is in a much different situation as a Democrat. She doesn’t need Republican votes to get her bills passed, and she embraces the title of progressive.
She’s concerned about corporations taking advantage of consumers for profit. To tackle that, she’s introduced an anti-price gouging bill that would make it easier for the state to go after grocery stores in particular, if their prices rise too fast.
Zokaie feels that taking on wealthy special interests like corporations is a mandate that she ran on.
“I've spoken to parents who skip meals to make sure their kids can eat. I've heard the heartbreak of older adults who are choosing between groceries and making rent. I've met college students balancing jobs and school while still barely scraping by. Coloradans deserve better,” Zokaie said.
She’s also sponsoring a bill that would require government forms that ask for a person’s race or ethnicity to include a designation for “Middle Eastern, North African or South Asian.” Zokaie is working on the effort with Democratic Sen. Iman Jodeh, Colorado’s only Palestinian-American lawmaker. Both women said that when they encounter government forms, they often don’t have a box to check that accurately represents them.
They also founded the first-ever legislative MENASA caucus. Zokaie wants to make sure it’s inclusive of all.
“I'm not religious, but grew up in a Muslim community, so I certainly want to make sure we're being inclusive of that community,” she explained. “I think there's just unique needs and challenges for folks in the Middle Eastern region and North Africa, South Asian, and we want to make sure that those voices are heard.”
She also wants to work across the aisle when possible. She has joined with Republican Rep. Matt Soper on a bill inspired by the case of Colorado Bureau of Investigation DNA analyst Missy Woods that would create new systems for handling alleged misconduct crime lab employees.
“I've had really great conversations with Republican colleagues,” Zokaie said. “It's not this divisive environment that you might imagine or that you see on the federal level.”
Johnson also sees the value in bipartisanship. She said she wants to begin her political career on a respectful note by starting with some less controversial bills and scheduling coffees with Democrats.
“People have come to me, ‘Where are your hard issues?’ I'm like, before we get there, I need to build the foundation of integrity, relations, respect, and then we dive into the harder (things),” she said.
There have already been some contentious debates in the legislature this year. And Johnson’s been at the Capitol as an aide long enough to know that there will be more coming, leading to long nights and likely heated words on the House floor. But she’s focused on trying to disagree with civility, something she said has come up in the weekly Bible study sessions she attends with colleagues.
“(Democrats) are coming at it from one end. Their people elected them to do it. My people elected me, maybe, to do the opposite,” Johnson said. “How do we respect each other as colleagues, remove ourselves personally from the issue so we're not attacking the person who's sponsoring it or opposing it, and how do we actually address the issue in a good faith effort that actually gives respect to it?”
Both Johnson and Zokaie have a lot of optimism and determination about the next few months, but they’re also realistic about the hard moments ahead.
These two lawmakers are also a reminder that there’s a very human side to the legislature, that each lawmaker has their own story, and that the job they do requires sacrifice.
This story was produced by the Capitol News Alliance, a collaboration between KUNC News, Colorado Public Radio, Rocky Mountain PBS, and The Colorado Sun, and shared with Rocky Mountain Community Radio and other news organizations across the state. Funding for the Alliance is provided in part by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.
