Making the Case: How to Advocate for Yourself in Work and Life

DEDICATION

To three generations of Guilfoyle men, Anthony Christopher Guilfoyle, Anthony John Guilfoyle, and Ronan Anthony Villency

And to my mom, Mercedes Gerena Guilfoyle, who made it all possible.

EPIGRAPH

Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.

—Winston S. Churchill

CONTENTS

Dedication

Epigraph

Introduction

PART I: ADVOCATING AT WORK

CHAPTER 1 How to Land the Best Job in the World (for You)

CHAPTER 2 Dressing for the Part

CHAPTER 3 Asking for a Promotion

CHAPTER 4 Standing Up for Your Ideas

CHAPTER 5 Working as a Team

CHAPTER 6 Changing Careers

CHAPTER 7 Playing by the Rules

PART II: ADVOCATING AT HOME

CHAPTER 8 The Power of Friendships

CHAPTER 9 Dating and Marriage

CHAPTER 10 Money and Relationships

CHAPTER 11 Supporting Your Spouse

CHAPTER 12 Teaching Kids to Advocate for Themselves

CHAPTER 13 Making Divorce Work for Everyone Involved

CHAPTER 14 Avoiding Family Drama

CHAPTER 15 Caring for Aging Parents

CHAPTER 16 Help! How to Ask for It, Receive It, and Give It

Acknowledgments

Index

About the Author

Credits

Copyright

About the Publisher

INTRODUCTION

Those of you who watch me on television know me as Kimberly Guilfoyle. My producer and colleagues also affectionately call me KG. But back in the days when I was deputy district attorney in Los Angeles, and before I became an ADA in the San Francisco district attorney’s office, I was known as The Hurricane. The nickname was a nod to Rubin Hurricane Carter, the boxer who literally knew how to fight for his rights in and out of the ring. Carter had been wrongly accused of a crime, imprisoned for nearly twenty years, and ultimately freed after appealing his case several times. He then went on to become an advocate for other wrongly accused prisoners, proving his mettle in the process.

When you are trying someone for a crime, as I did in my early career, the consequences for the victim, the defendant, and their families can be grave. In many cases someone’s life hangs in the balance, so you better be precise with your investigation, your evidence, your words, and your intentions. I strived to do that every day and still do. Defendants would groan whenever they saw me enter a courtroom because I had a reputation for coming armed with the facts and for winning cases.

Later, when I served as first lady of San Francisco, having been married to the former mayor of that city and current lieutenant governor of California, Gavin Newsom, my role was to champion the rights of all the city’s citizens.

In time I moved into cable and broadcast journalism to report on and analyze high profile legal cases as host of Both Sides on Court TV and The Lineup on the Fox News Channel. My longtime fans will remember me too for my regular appearances on CNN and Good Morning America. I covered the Scott Peterson, JonBenet Ramsey, Natalee Holloway, Kobe Bryant, and Michael Jackson trials, among many others. Viewers told me that they appreciated the way I’d home in quickly on what makes a sound point and what makes a flawed one. And just as important, they appreciated my ability to explain the difference.

Currently, I am a host on two of Fox News Channel’s popular opinion programs, The Five and Outnumbered, a legal analyst on The O’Reilly Factor, and a political/legal analyst on Hannity. All of this is how I came to be known as an expert in making the case.

Now when people stop me on the street they tell me how much I’ve influenced their thinking on today’s most hotly debated issues. It’s wonderful to hear their feedback. I really value what they have to say and am thrilled that they consider me an inspiration. More often than not, they ask me questions too. What they most want to know is how I do what I do.

These inquisitive people—especially the young ones who are searching for their place in the world—invariably ask where I studied. They not only wonder how I got such exciting jobs, but also they’re eager to find out how I was trained. Many more want to know where my passion comes from and why and when I first became so outspoken in the interest of others. Some are just curious, but most are looking for ways to learn how to do the same thing themselves—not necessarily in a court of law or in the media, but in their daily lives. They want to learn how to effectively communicate their ideas, thoughts, needs, and goals in their own homes, schools, and workplaces, as well as in their larger communities. And in these increasingly divisive times, they want to do so in a manner that furthers constructive dialogue and action.

These people are my motivation for writing this book. I truly believe that anyone can learn to do what I do and apply it in all aspects of their life. Even you. Especially you. You picked up this book with the intention of finding out those answers, right? So rally caps on for you!

It’s a universal truth that all people want to be heard and understood. Effective communication is what drives our individual and collective success. As always, I’m happy to share with you what I know about the skills and mental preparedness required to build, state, and sustain your position on any topic of relevance and importance to you so that now you too can become an expert in making the case.

I tell anyone who asks that I had an excellent education because I believe that’s an important part of the equation. I graduated magna cum laude from University of California, Davis; studied law at Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland; and earned my juris doctorate degree at University of San Francisco School of Law. During that time—and certainly since then—I’ve had many amazing and insightful teachers, professors, and mentors. But I also tell people that the greatest classroom is life itself. It holds every lesson ever to be learned. You see, the very first appeal I made in the interest of another person occurred years before I held any of my degrees or titles.

When I was just eleven years old, my mother, Mercedes Gerena Guilfoyle, lost her long and painful battle with leukemia. As you might expect, her death was the defining moment in my life. Throughout her illness, I remember making my case with God as to why he should help this graceful, nurturing, passionate, artistic woman live a longer and full life. I had prayed before, but this case was by far my most important one. I tried not to make it about myself because I shared my mother with so many other people who relied on and adored her too. I thought God should hear that part of the argument. She was a loving wife to my dad and a doting mom to my brother as well as to me. She filled our home with music, dance, crafts, fantastic meals, and the most festive holiday and birthday celebrations. But she was also an extraordinary teacher who connected with her words and heart to the special needs students she taught, many of whom had complicated emotional and learning differences. She was beloved by these children and their families. And she was valued and respected by her peers, who knew what kind of patience, caring, warmth, intelligence, creativity, and commitment was required of her in a job that was especially difficult.

My appeal to God was very simple. As soon as my dad came home each night, I’d run downstairs to meet him. My first question would be How is Mommy doing? I gauged her progress on a scale from one to ten and would always pray for her to be at least the same as the day before or better. Often those prayers were answered. In the end though, God had different plans for my mother’s spirit. In retrospect, I believe he did answer my prayers for her to live on, because in so many ways her presence is felt in my life to this day. Her strength and wisdom helped to shape me. It left an indelible mark on my soul. She gave me my kind heart. But her passing was still such a tremendous loss for us all. This person who filled my cup with so much was gone and I had to figure out what to do next.

As often happens, we learn our most valuable lessons in the toughest of times and that, in fact, happened to me. What I have discovered since losing my mother is that you can always advocate for the best health care possible, but death is not something you can negotiate. A case, however, can be made for virtually EVERYTHING else in life. That is my motto and it was certainly the firm belief of my incredibly wise, determined, and resilient dad, Anthony Tony Guilfoyle. Before I share the tools to help you live by that motto too, let me just tell you a little about how those vital skills came to me.

After my mom died it was expected that I would step up and take on some additional responsibilities at home, particularly with regard to the care and upbringing of my brother, Anthony, who was eight at the time. I prepared his meals, got him ready for school in the morning, helped him with his homework in the afternoon if he needed me to, and was generally there to support and watch over him. Fortunately, my dad never expected more of me than I was capable of giving, and we both knew that. I was a very precocious child who was classified as a mentally gifted minor. I spent part of my day studying with students two grades ahead of me. I was the type of child who never missed a day of school, who worked to get the best grades I could in every subject, and who stayed up to all hours of the night reading for pleasure. I am a classic type A personality. If anything, my father had to encourage me to slow down and enjoy life more, to not become too intense. He saw that I had a lot of the same gifts as my mother and his bigger concern was that I learn to channel my energies and showcase my talents so I could get everything from life that I needed in order to flourish.

My dad often thought that in her short time on this earth, my mother held herself back, and he didn’t want that to be my experience too. There were so many things about her that only he knew. He wished more people could have seen what a great singer, dancer, poet, and artist she was, but my mother was shy about her accomplishments. Don’t get me wrong—she was a very determined and strong woman. When she came here from Puerto Rico she learned English and quickly assimilated into the American way of life. But my father recognized that she, like so many other women, tended to be modest and put others’ needs before her own. It would be easy for me to do the same, especially since I was charged with looking after my brother. So his life mission was to teach me, and of course my brother, how to advocate for ourselves. Our whole family understood—especially in light of my mother’s death—that life is short, so it was important to know how to make your case, and how to make it count. My father didn’t want us to downplay our talents or to think there would always be another opportunity to put ourselves out there because you never know—maybe this is your time, your moment in the light. He also never wanted us to live with the regret that we didn’t go after something we thought we should have pursued. He wanted us to be confident. To that end, he taught us to always do our best, to admit if we made a mistake, and to try again to make things work out better. Once we became our own best spokespeople, he made it clear that we were to use those same skills to help advance the causes of those who had not yet found their own voices. He taught us to think of others—even strangers—with the same compassion we feel for our loved ones and ourselves.

This wasn’t just his philosophy; it was his day-to-day practice. There are so many wonderful examples in my childhood of how he worked these lessons into our daily lives. I remember, for instance, his reaction when my best friend Maura Devlin was running for president at our all-girls private school, Mercy High, and I decided to be her campaign manager. I threw myself headlong into the effort as I do everything. I was determined to get her elected. I made posters and banners, and was very organized about getting out the vote for her. When I told my dad all about it, he said, That’s fantastic. I’m very proud that you’re getting involved, that you love your school, and that you’re supporting a good friend. She’s a terrific candidate. With you on her side, I’m sure she’s going to win. Then he said, "You know, Kimberly, you’re smart, you’re passionate, you care about people. Have you ever thought about running for office? It would be amazing if you did something like this too." So I ran for vice president and Maura and I became a real dynamic duo. My dad was right. He wasn’t encouraging me to run for the same position as Maura. I would have felt uncomfortable about that, but he was encouraging me to throw my hat into the ring in some significant way so I could share my ideas and do more to make the school an even better place for my classmates and myself. He believed there is great nobility in working to help others. He was also convinced that we grow and learn immeasurably from these kinds of efforts. Being vice president allowed me to do just that. I was happy my dad inspired me to make that leap.

My father encouraged me to do the same when it came to sports. During my sophomore year, I told him I wanted to try out for cheerleading and that two of my best friends, Maura Devlin and Sharon Thompson, were on the squad. Once again, he said, That’s fantastic. You’ve got great school spirit. You’ll do an amazing job. But I’ve got to tell you, you’ve been blessed with tremendous athletic ability. Why don’t you try out for a team instead? I support you either way, but how about getting in there and actually helping them win, not just cheering them on? So I did. I tried out for the softball team and I made it. I was captain that year and co-captain in subsequent years. I had such a great time. It was fast pitch—a game I was happy to discover I really excelled in. We went on to win the championship that season and every season thereafter. I loved it so much, I thought about playing in college, but I was swayed by the impracticality of juggling practice, games, and all my prelaw studies. Nevertheless, I carry a certain team spirit with me in all that I do and am a big baseball fan to this day. Go San Francisco Giants!

Sports actually figured into my dad’s philosophy about advocating for yourself in a big way. He really believed that physical strength and mental strength went hand in hand. So after my mother’s death, he sent my brother and me to Ralph Castro’s school for shaolin kenpo karate. Great Grandmaster Ralph Castro has trained and developed top black belts for more than fifty-five years. Shaolin kenpo is designed to teach its students sports competition, self-defense, and an offensive fighting system that involves both mind and body. One reason we chose this discipline and school is because shaolin kenpo goes beyond mastering specific martial arts movements. Developing mental discipline, respect, and high moral character were important aspects of our training.

My brother even won his division in the California Karate Championships. I told him that was thanks to all the training fights and butt whoopings I gave him when we practiced in the backyard. I regularly trained and sparred against men at this school. This made me tough and confident. I can handle myself. In college, I studied tae kwon do. In addition, my dad introduced us to boxing and kickboxing. He used to have us work out with a heavy bag in our basement. He bolted it securely to the ceiling, so imagine our surprise when one night, after a vigorous round of boxing and spinning back kicks, I knocked it right out of its mount. This big Everlast heavyweight bag just fell down. I thought, Oh my God, I’m going to get into so much trouble, but my dad just came down the stairs, saw what happened, and said, Oh yeah. That’s my girl. He loved it. I knocked it right out of the ceiling. My father always used to tell me that whatever a guy could do I could do better. He was determined to raise my brother and me to be strong warriors. I was a sensitive and kind child and a little bit shy, but I became a mentally strong person through my father’s coaching and my physical pursuits. I still love to box with my trainer, Harvey, who also officiates a lot of HBO professional fights.

There were lots of other ways that my dad taught me to be my own best advocate. I can’t tell you how many times he sent me to my room to build my case. While I was growing up, he would say, "Don’t ever be afraid to ask for anything, BUT BE PREPARED. Think about why you want it and why I should say yes. Have your best supporting reasons ready at the quick. So I took him up on the offer many times. When I was vice president of the senior class, I had to organize a class trip to Mazatlán, Mexico, that required us to stay overnight in a hotel for several days. I remember standing on the landing before the stairway that led up to the third floor of our home where the master bedroom was. I slowly climbed the steps. I was so nervous to ask his permission to go, but I had my notes clearly in my mind. I entered his room. He was sitting at his desk. He saw that I was a little tense, so he repeated his mantra, Okay, go ahead. I may say yes, I may say no, but you always ask me. Right? Don’t ever be afraid to ask. (You can see now why I’m always willing to entertain other people’s questions!) So I gathered my composure and said, Dad, I’d like to be able to go on the class trip and these are my reasons why: This trip has happened every year for many years. It’s well supervised. We’ll have a lot of adults with us. Here’s the itinerary listing the specific events we’ve planned and their locations. This is where we’re staying and all the necessary contact information. The hotel and the sites we are visiting are all in safe areas. There were no casualties, incidents, or problems in prior years when other groups of girls went. This is a structured event being sponsored by an all-girls Catholic school. The school understands its obligation to keep us safe as well." (He told me to be prepared!) Then I provided him with a list of parents who had given their children permission to travel. I made sure the list contained the names of people he knew well enough to call so he could talk over the pros and cons with them. I also told him that there were some parents who would only sign their daughters up for the trip if I was attending and could serve as their guardian since they were not yet of age and I was turning eighteen before the trip took place. I said, "Dad, these parents believe in me because of their own interactions with me and because of their daughters’ relationships with me. They trust me to be the one responsible for them in another country. I think that says a lot about me, and how I am known to exercise good judgment. I planned this trip and I take it seriously as an event that can bond the class and as an experience that can also help prepare me for being away from home before I