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REMARKS BY: DONNA E. SHALALA, SECRETARY OF HEALTH AND HUMAN SERVICES PLACE: Sarah Lee Front Runner Awards, Washington, D.C. DATE: November 18, 1998

Practicing the Art of the Possible


After that introduction, I feel like Justice Holmes when he saw a portrait of himself and said, "I'm not sure it's me, but I'm glad you think so." What an inspired place to gather for this occasion!

The National Center for Women in the Arts proves we've come a long way since the days of Virginia Woolf -- when we were still looking for a room of our own.

And as you walk past the works of art, a story about women begins to unfold. It's a story not unlike a novel by Toni Morrison or Isabel Allende. Gripped with pain, struggle and despair. But glowing with triumph, transcendence, and most of all, an unquenchable spirit.

The truth that glimmers through these works of art is not in the figures, scenes, objects or ideas that are frozen in time. As Bell Hooks said, "the function of art is to do more than tell it like it is. It's to imagine what is possible."

My years in public life have taught me that politics is also the art of the possible. Look back on our national history. Optimism is the spring in every step forward. Every belief of what should be -- what must be -- what can be -- what will be.

The women who gathered at Seneca Falls 150 years ago to launch the women's movement in America -- they were practicing the art of the possible. The women who suffered for suffrage and won the right to vote -- they were practicing the art of the possible. And the women who are gathered here tonight, the women we celebrate, the women we appreciate, and the women we initiate into lives of leadership -- we too are practicing the art of the possible.

When my protege‚ practices the art of the possible, it's performance art -- ground-breaking, expressive, kinetic. Seeing Dr. Marsha Martin in action reminds me of Toni Morrison's character, Sula. She's tenacious. Inventive. Disruptive. Imaginative. Modern. Uncontained. And uncontainable. If we really are judged by the company we keep, then I'll never have to worry. I've been trying to keep Marsha's company for over a decade. We met in the mid-eighties when I was President of Hunter College - and was on the lookout for smart, passionate and inspiring scholars.

Marsha more than filled the bill. So, of course, I immediately recruited her to teach. And she did. She taught in the classroom, but more important - she taught by example. Redesigning the New York City Shelter System. Volunteering her time to help people with HIV and AIDS. Writing, advocating, and above all else, caring about - and for - the homeless. The fact is, Marsha Martin has devoted most of her life to people who have the least. And it's a comfort to know that Marsha's just down the hall from my office, where she practices her art of the possible to help the homeless and people with AIDS. Dr. Marsha Martin makes government better than it wants to be. The practice of law is also the art of the possible when it's done in the name of progress.

And if Justice Holmes were alive and modern today, I'm sure he would agree that another name for progress is the National Women's Law Center. Imagine our world today without the Center's litigating, educating and advocating for the rights of women and families.

Our reproductive rights. Our health care rights. Our equal rights to job security, income parity and gender equity, from the factory floors to the field of sports. These are the rights demanded by our sisters at Seneca Falls. And these are the fights they told us we must never stop fighting.

And I know women will keep on winning, thanks to the National Women's Law Center, the remarkable women we're honoring tonight, and supporters like the Sarah Lee Foundation.

Thank you. ,p>