Deep into her campaign, Kathleen Kennedy Townsend has yet to shake a sense among one-third of likely voters that she isn't up to the job of being governor - a perception many say is rooted as much in her public style as in her ability.
Townsend's public persona remains a work in progress. Little-known when selected by Gov. Parris N. Glendening as his running mate eight years ago, she raised doubts among many voters early on with uneven speaking performances and gaffes widely circulated by news organizations.
But those who deal with Townsend in small venues say they see a different politician: one who is bright, compassionate and comfortable, and who exudes competence.
"A small group is probably her favorite setting because it's a little easier to connect with people," said Sue Brown, executive director of the Maryland League of Conservation Voters. "You don't really call Parris Glendening 'Parris,' but you call her 'Kathleen.' For some reason, there is more of a collegial atmosphere with her as opposed to, 'I'm the chief!' "
Others who work with Townsend have come away similarly impressed. "I'd rather have someone who is genuine and maybe stumbles on occasion than someone who is glib," said Del. Samuel I. Rosenberg, a Baltimore Democrat.
Indeed, most of her public speaking opportunities still begin with a small flub or two - a dropped syllable, a wrong tense. Sometimes her head shakes or she squints her eyes shut as she begins an answer; sometimes she appears unnerved.
At the same time, Townsend has grown more confident on the stump as the campaign has unfolded. She has met thousands of people in a variety of gatherings, many of whom walk away saying she came across better than expected.
"I was never as bad as everybody said," Townsend said. "And people focused on it, and it was an easy focus. And very frankly, it was a great focus for people running against me. They didn't have much else to go on. I've done a really good job as lieutenant governor."
Different demeanors
Still, supporters acknowledge a gap between her demeanor in casual surroundings and her performance on a larger stage - whether before a television camera or a packed auditorium.
"The positive about her, what makes her attractive in small groups, is she has an enormous passion for the issues, for the public service, for the welfare of other people," said Daniel M. Clements, a trial lawyer and longtime political observer who is chairman of Planned Parenthood of Maryland.
"But she is reluctant to talk publicly about what brought her to that passion," Clements said. "In a small group, you can see the passion in her eyes, and you hear it in her voice. In a large group, just like everything else on stage, it requires exaggeration, and she's not willing to do that. It's not who she is."
While that might seem like a superficial shortcoming, appearances count in politics.
Public speaking - through prepared speeches, sound bites and longer interviews - is how candidates demonstrate they possess the expertise, competency and honesty that voters value, said Kathleen A. Kendell, an expert in political communication and a visiting professor at the University of Maryland, College Park.
"Being authoritative, showing you know what you are talking about - it's all about perception," Kendell said. "Speeches are a major way in which the candidates can make contact with the voters and demonstrate they have these desired traits."
Even so, the list of verbally challenged politicians is long and impressive. State Comptroller William Donald Schaefer was elected governor twice despite a speaking style that jumps from point to point and sometimes leaves thoughts dangling. President George W. Bush overcame a propensity for malapropisms that spawned a book about his "accidental wit."
'Not capable enough'
Townsend narrowly led Republican Robert L. Ehrlich Jr. in a late-September Maryland Poll for The Sun. But more than one in three likely voters - and 42 percent of the men - agreed with the statement that Townsend "is not capable enough to handle the job of governor."
"When she was lieutenant governor, she put her foot in her mouth. There were a lot of slips. But she has her handlers around her now," said Morris Wright, 68, a retired Marine from Gwynn Oak. "I think she's intelligent, but the way she comes across, I don't have much confidence in her."
To be sure, there are occasions where Townsend shines.
At a conference of the Maryland Municipal League this month, she delivered a near-flawless address to scores of mayors and local elected officials, outlining a detailed vision of the relationship between the state and its smaller jurisdictions.
She surprised many viewers of last month's televised debate, who found her poised and commanding.
"I thought she was impressive in that debate," said Kendell, the College Park professor.
Some think her tongue-tied reputation is a creation of the media - which focused attention on a few gaffes. In December 1999, she said in a short television interview, "What we're doing, we're hiring people who speak Hispanish." After the 2001 Super Bowl, she proclaimed, "I loved it when we made that football," to describe her reaction to a Ravens touchdown.
"The whole sport of it is to not ask them a question they are prepared for. That's how you make news," said Dru Schmidt-Perkins, executive director of 1000 Friends of Maryland, a land-use watchdog group. "I have definitely found that this relentless media thing about her faux pas and inability to be articulate has had an impact."
Townsend said those kinds of errors won't go away, but are of little consequence.
"I'm always going to make mistakes. That's what's going to happen," she said. "And the question is, are you guys going to focus on it? ... I made a mistake about football and touchdown. I wish I didn't, but I did. But on the whole, I'm pretty good."
Connecting issues
After dealing with Townsend regularly in small settings, Schmidt-Perkins agrees, pointing to an August session at Townsend's campaign headquarters with some of the state's leading environmentalists. Energized participants were cutting each other off, hardly allowing Townsend to speak.
"She was handling it beautifully," Schmidt-Perkins said. "She was teasing people and batting them back in a wonderful way. As people started to talk, she started to draw connections between issues that we haven't seen. It was unbelievable. Here we are, the experts, saying 'Aaah - that would be right.' "
Townsend believes that her tenure of more than seven years as a loyal lieutenant who never strayed from the party line crimped her ability to articulate her thoughts.
Asked questions in public, she would almost always pause and ponder her response - composing a safe if tentative answer that might not have been the one she preferred.
"It's much easier to have your own voice than have somebody else's. That really is true," she said. "Because when I'm answering those questions, I'm not thinking, 'What does Kathleen always think?' It is 'What is the administration's position.' And it means you have to go through a second level of analysis. And very frankly, it's much easier to be your own person."
Sidekick pitfalls
Michael Waldman, a former Clinton speechwriter and editor of a forthcoming book on great presidential speeches, said political sidekicks often don't stand out.
"When someone is in a lieutenant-governor role, like a vice president, it's often hard for their strength of character to come through," Waldman said. "Those are offices that are not the easiest offices to show the strength of your political personality."
To female legislators, Townsend's problem is symptomatic of a culture still accustomed to males in leadership roles.
Many voters have come to equate bluster as a credential for high office, says state Del. Sharon M. Grosfeld, a Townsend supporter from Montgomery County.
"If a candidate reacts in an arrogant way, they may come off as strong or confident, but they may not know what they're talking about," Grosfeld said. "The public has become so used to style over substance that, unfortunately, that is how candidates sometimes get chosen."
Appearing forceful isn't confined to male candidates. Maryland Sen. Barbara Mikulski and former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher are examples of women whose styles fit a traditional mold for politicians.
Regardless of style, gender alone is enough to sway some voters against Townsend, who is vying to become Maryland's first female governor.
"I don't have any confidence in her. I just don't care for her," said Jerry Kilian, 78, a retired linen supply employee from Rosedale. "She's a woman. I think men ought to take a job like that."
"I think women can be senators because that's a club and a community," said Craig Smith, professor of communication studies at California State University, Long Beach and a former speechwriter for Gerald Ford. "I think it's much more difficult for women to be governor, because that's a father figure."
Political experts say Marylanders might awake Nov. 6 and view Townsend differently, if she emerges victorious from what is now a neck-and-neck race.
"Nothing transforms someone's charisma," said speechwriter Waldman, "like winning 50.1 percent of the vote."