INDIANAPOLIS — At age 80, Earline Rogers remains a vital advocate for those with little voice in the Legislature.
At the top of her agenda this year, for example, is a proposal to help a constituency that no one directly represents — undocumented immigrant students who grew up in Indiana but must pay expensive, out-of-state tuition to attend the state's universities.
Rogers and Sen. Luke Kenley (R-Noblesville), the powerful Senate Appropriations chairman, are teaming up on a modest measure to change that requirement for a few hundred students, and potentially others in the future.
Rogers, from Gary, says if she can get that bill passed — along with a couple other key measures - she might consider retiring after 34 years in the General Assembly.
Though Rogers is a liberal Democrat, Sen. Jean Leising (Oldenburg), a conservative Republican, thinks that's a terrible idea.
“I don’t want to her leave. We need her here,” said Leising, whose district in southeast Indiana is as rural as Rogers’ is urban.
That sentiment speaks to Rogers' unique role in the Legislature.
Rogers is one of just nine black legislators, all Democrats, in a body of 150 lawmakers. The Legislature lost its only two Hispanic members to defeat last November.
Yet slow-to-change Indiana is becoming increasingly diverse. Nineteen percent of its population now identifies as something other than white.
Rogers, a retired school teacher, knows better than most what disenfranchisement looks like.
About 60 percent of blacks in Indiana live in two cities - Gary and Indianapolis. It's a population that is proportionally underrepresented - in the Legislature and in other ways.
Just two examples: The median income for black Hoosiers is $18,000 less than that of whites. While 28 percent of all Hoosiers live in rental housing, 58 percent of blacks do.
Last week the Black Legislative Caucus announced its ambitious priorities. They range from a feasibility study of locating a professional sports team on the Indiana side of the Chicago region, to banning racial profiling by police.
Rogers sees all as worthy of debate. But, as she considers her legacy, she’s focused on areas where she’s forged alliances with Republicans who have super-majority control of the General Assembly.
Her top priorities include in-state tuition for undocumented students and a guarantee of adequate funding for schools in high-poverty districts.
As the mother of Indiana’s original casino legislation — which brought thousands of good paying jobs to her district and other depressed areas — she’s now wants to allow casino riverboats to become land-based and more competitive with venues out of state.
“Those are things I could get accomplished this year,” she said.
Not long ago, Rogers broke her wrist while exercising on a treadmill. While in recovery, she’s barred by her doctor from driving.
That’s not a problem during the week when she’s in Indianapolis. She stays at the Columbia Club, an historic hotel near the Statehouse that has long been a bastion for Republican legislators.
In the evening, after a day’s debate, Rogers can be found in the hotel lounge, chatting with those GOP lawmakers about grandchildren and other family matters.
Her friendships across the aisle seem unlikely.
She and Kenley, for example, come from far different backgrounds.
She’s a black, liberal Democrat from the state’s poorest, most diverse city. He’s a white, conservative Republican from one of the state's most affluent, least diverse communities - Noblesville.
“The district she represents is a world apart from mine," he said.
Yet, he describes her as a "practical, problem-solving person" who possess what he calls a lawmaker’s greatest.
“She has tremendous credibility,” he said.
The respect afforded to Rogers from her fellow lawmakers is significant to her constituents - so much so that any talk of retirement ripples back through her district.
Rogers said what happens during this session could determine whether she runs again.
“For me the question is, have I done enough to justify my community having had the faith to put here for 34 years?” she said. “Once I come to the conclusion that I’ve earned the right to leave, then I’ll go.”