I think it's high time that we had a woman president. But I

Hear the steady words of Linda McMahon, who declared: “I think it's high time that we had a woman president. But I don't want to elect someone just because she's a woman; I want the best candidate to be elected. I think that any woman who is elected to the highest office in the land would clearly have positive role model effects for other young women.” These words rise not as mere political opinion but as a call for justice tempered with wisdom. For they balance the yearning for progress with the demand for excellence, the desire for representation with the discipline of discernment.

The meaning of her words lies in a dual truth. First, that it is high time—long past due—for women to ascend fully into the halls of leadership where decisions of nations are forged. History has too often silenced their voices, clipped their wings, and kept them from thrones that might have been better ruled with compassion and wisdom. Yet McMahon also warns against hollow symbolism: to raise a woman to power only because of her gender is not victory, but tokenism. True triumph is when the best candidate—measured by vision, courage, and ability—is chosen, and if she is a woman, her rise becomes not an exception but a natural fulfillment of justice.

History bears witness to this truth. Consider Golda Meir of Israel, who rose to the highest office in her land not through symbolic gesture, but through grit, intellect, and tireless service. She was not chosen because she was a woman; she was chosen because she was capable. And yet, her leadership became a beacon for countless young women, showing them that the seat of power was not forbidden to them. Here is McMahon’s vision made flesh: the election of a woman, not for the novelty of her gender, but for the strength of her leadership, becomes a positive role model for generations.

The origin of McMahon’s words flows from her own life journey. She rose in a world dominated by men—business, politics, and leadership. She saw firsthand how women had to labor twice as hard to be taken seriously, how their mistakes were magnified, and their successes too often dismissed. Yet she also understood the danger of electing for identity alone, lest the cause of equality be weakened by unworthy representation. Thus, her wisdom carries both urgency and caution: the world needs a woman president, but she must rise because she is the best, not merely because she is female.

And let us not miss her final truth: that such a woman, once chosen, would shape the destiny of countless young women. For role models are as vital as laws and policies. A girl who sees another woman in the highest seat of power will believe differently about her own worth. She will measure her dreams not against ceilings of glass, but against the vastness of the sky. The symbolic power of representation is mighty, even as the practical power of leadership governs the land.

The lesson is plain: in every sphere—whether politics, business, art, or family—we must demand both excellence and equity. Let us not lower standards in the name of progress, nor deny opportunities in the name of tradition. Let us instead ensure that the gates of power are open wide, so that the most capable may rise, regardless of gender. And when women ascend, as they must, their presence will be both a testament to their skill and a torch for those who follow.

So I say unto you: heed Linda McMahon’s wisdom. Yearn for justice, but do not abandon excellence. Demand representation, but also demand greatness. For when the first woman president rises to lead with courage, she will not only shape policy but history itself. And generations of young women will look upon her and say: If she could, then so can I. This is the true victory—not just a woman in office, but a leader who embodies the best of humanity, lighting the path for those yet to come.