PIERRE - The noon rush waxes and wanes in the basement cafeteria of the State Capitol and Sen. Nancy Turbak Berry is in between bites of sausage and sauerkraut when she finds herself surrounded by fellow legislators.

They banter and argue, laugh and rehash the morning's committee meetings and then she's off and running.

It's only when it's pointed out that Turbak Berry, D-Watertown, realizes she was the only woman in the crowd.

As one of the 18 women in the South Dakota Legislature, a number that has slipped from its peak, she's used to standing out. In education committee, she's the skirt and heels in a row of slacks and ties.

On the microphone in commerce committee, her input is an octave higher than the rest. On the Senate Floor, she's decked out in diamonds at a desk with an overflowing bouquet of red roses from her husband.

It's at these times that it's hard to ignore. She's not just a lawmaker, she's a woman lawmaker.

For the past three decades, Turbak Berry has been a trial lawyer, a career field also dominated by men. It prepared her for her first term in the Legislature this year, where only 18 of the 105 decision-makers are women, five in the Senate and 13 in the House.

"I'm so used to being the only woman in a professional setting," she said. "I don't notice it very much."

But there are occasions, she said. Like the time a woman pastor stood to pray before session and asked for God to watch over the "men."

"Sometimes, something will happen, and we all look at each other," Turbak Berry said.

Rep. Joni Cutler, R-Sioux Falls, recalled a time when the names of a conference committee were announced this year. The list was almost entirely women, a rare occasion.

"Somebody did the cat-hiss sound, and then it dawned on me," she said.

For many of the legislators, the fact so few are women isn't an urgent issue but something that deserves change.

"We have one female in our caucus, the Democrats have four," said Sen. Ed Olson, R-Mitchell. "Five out of 35 and they represent half the population? Something's wrong."

Sen. Jim Hundstad, D-Bath, agreed.

"They have a lot of great things going on that would make them great legislators, like multitasking," he said. "If we cut out half the population's ideas - whether good, bad, Democratic, Republican, male, female - if we're missing half, it isn't good."

Votes on issues such as abortion or family rights might come out differently, Olson said. But even now, the women don't unite together for a common cause when it comes to issues like that, Turbak Berry said.

"One thing you don't see are women grouping," she said. "I respect the women, but I'm no better friends with them than the men."

Women simply have different life experiences than men, she said, which is what is missing when they are not at the table.

"It clearly is a weakness," she said. "When people make a decision, whether on the (legislative) floor or a jury, they are affected by their life experiences. It's the single biggest factor, rather than the logic laid out."

Women's family roles may keep them from serving, especially when they are younger, she said.

The Legislature, which requires a commitment of two months in Pierre each year, caters to a particular group of people, and those people aren't mothers with children at home, Turbak Berry said.

"Women are nurturers," Olson said, and they feel pressure from society to be close to the home. It's why most of the women in the Legislature have grown children.

"That's the biggest reason I didn't run earlier," said Turbak Berry, who has two sons, 18 and 22.

"I wouldn't think of leaving them for two months."

She said unless something revolutionary happens - the session is split into several two-week intervals, or something else more family-friendly - women are going to have a hard time participating.

Women are not the only casualties of the system, she said.

"Unfortunately, there are not more women, more minorities, more younger people," she said. "It favors retired folks, it favors men and it favors people who are on a short list of occupations. … We are depriving the decision-making process by restricting viewpoints."

Rep. Cutler said one problem for women is they are not as connected to the system that traditionally has elected men.

"Women don't yet utilize a succession of power where they actively seek out other women and help them raise money, campaign and understand the system," she said.

Cutler said if obligations at home were the only challenge for women, families could find ways to accommodate. But it's more than that.

"The more subtle thing is the way the men seek each other out and really hand down power by empowering themselves with knowledge of the system," she said.

That has created a tradition, Sen. Sandy Jerstad, D-Sioux Falls, said.

"People are more used to electing men and not as many women have run," she said. She, along with a handful of other women legislators, are trying to turn the tide by mentoring women who are thinking about running.

"I think women have been afraid to run, to go out and speak, to raise money, to go door to door," she said. "They think about that in a deeper way than the men. The (men) have a sense of entitlement."

Women need to know that running for office, she said "doesn't have to be scary or frightening."

Once they are elected, women say they don't feel left out. Cutler said she feels respected by the men she works with.

"I'm always treated fairly," she said.

Seamus Culhane, Turbak Berry's son and an intern for the Senate, said he sees the same thing for his mother.

"They certainly don't try to shut her down as a female," he said.

Cutler was the first woman to chair the House Judiciary Committee, something that wouldn't have happened if men in leadership hadn't been supportive, she said. She remembers when things weren't so equal. Several years ago, when the House would make an announcement that the attorneys needed to look at a piece of legislation, they handed the bill out to all the male attorneys and not her.

"It was never intentional," Cutler said. "We all as human beings seek out familiarity. It feels more familiar when men are with men."

Those men that are helping make the change, she said.

"I don't think I could have ever been as comfortable with my service in the Legislature if there weren't men who went out of their way to make me feel comfortable and really show me the kind of respect I have appreciated having," she added.

The Capitol building itself might be the best demonstration of a change. A large men's bathroom behind the Senate chambers has been partitioned down the middle to create a women's bathroom.

"Back in the day, it was a boys' club," joked Sen. Hundstad.

Despite the jokes, Turbak Berry said she's never felt there was a boys' club mentality.

"My personality is that I tend to have a very casual, joking, teasing relationship with most people," she said. If anything, she said, "being female makes it more comfortable," because she can skip the power struggle.

"There's a pecking-order concern with men, and I just don't buy into that," she said.

For every time in the recent session that Turbak Berry showed her softer side - laughing while tucked under the arm of Sen. Royal "Mac" McCracken, R-Rapid City, as he teased her about being short, rising during a Commerce Committee meeting to pour coffee for her male counterparts or patiently listening to a pitch during lunch - she also voted, argued, testified and researched hard.

Turbak Berry said she doesn't need to prove that she is capable of doing the job as well as a man.

"I long ago got in the habit of not being competitive and fierce," she said. "You don't get very far that way with people. I'm not here to make a statement about who owes who what."

On her way to a committee meeting, Turbak Berry is stopped by Gladys Storm, the wife of Rapid City School board member Wes Storm.

Storm thanks her for serving, something she wishes she had done.

"It was one of my few regrets," Storm said. "Women are so necessary. Men do a great job, but women bring a different perspective."

At the end of this long day in the session, Turbak Berry stays late with another senator to discuss strategy for tomorrow's testimony before slipping on a full-length mink coat - a luxury she says she can enjoy only because her family used to own a mink farm.

She heads out the door to have dinner with her husband, the clicks of her black high heels echoing down the hall.

Contact Kayla Gahagan at 394-8410 or kayla.gahagan@rapidcityjournal.com.