Figuring out how to don a gas mask on the floor of the US House of Representatives isn’t something I thought I’d ever have to do. But that’s exactly what happened.
When the mob breached security on Jan. 6, 2021, I was among a few dozen members in the House chamber. After Speaker Nancy Pelosi was whisked away by Capitol Police, I texted my husband—a county sheriff—and my children to let them know I was safe. I sheltered in a secure location.
We eventually finished the people’s business. Democracy prevailed. But that day shattered my family’s faith in my continued service in Congress. A few months later, I announced I wouldn’t run for re-election.
Suddenly, my inbox flooded with post-retirement ventures. Should I lead a university as its president? Join corporate or nonprofit boards? Accept a prestigious political fellowship? Sign on with a lobbying firm? Should I stay in DC? Or fully return home to Illinois?
My mind swirled. I didn’t know then what I wanted to do next. Yet, I’m confident my process led to the best fit.
Now that we’re in retirement season on Capitol Hill, I offer this advice to those in Congress looking to the horizon and asking what their future holds beyond public service.
Among the things you should do:
Take every meeting. I never declined a one. Listen intently. House ethics rules allow as many first dates as you want. Questions are free. This helped me narrow down what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go.
Talk to former members of Congress. Some of the best advice that came my way was from members who left before me. These were members I like and respect. They knew the pitfalls and the potential. Learn from their mistakes—not just their successes.
Seek advice from the best in the field. In my five terms in Congress, I worked with some great lobbyists—and some bad ones. I made a point to seek out those of whom I thought the most highly. Not all lobbying opportunities are equal. From considering how operations look at billable hours to business development, these lobbyists helped me identify the best fits.
Know your worth. I left as a member of House leadership, an appropriator, a past chair of the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee, and an Agriculture subcommittee chair. I worked with legal experts who for decades helped members make these transitions. They even helped me negotiate a compensation package. My experience was so positive that I continue referring others to them.
And here are some things to avoid:
Don’t accept board offers until you’re gone. If a company asks you to join their board, tell them to call you back the day you’re out of office. Otherwise, you may need to recuse yourself on future votes. This isn’t the way you want to go out. Also, don’t make commitments to nonprofit boards until you know the full demands on your time and how you will make a living.
Don’t skirt ethics paperwork. Yes, you can have as many first dates as you want with prospective employers, but you must disclose continued interest. Get it right. You get one reputation. Don’t squander it.
Don’t base your decision on money. Build it around your values. I had three written offers with a fourth in the works. I didn’t join the largest firm that wanted me. Nor did I join the firm that offered me the most money. But I did join a firm that allowed me to work in Washington and to establish an office in my home state of Illinois. That’s priceless.
My story has a happy ending. I landed with a firm—Mercury Public Affairs—that gave me the freedom to build my team and operations the way I thought best. I can say no to any work that doesn’t align with my values.
It’s hard work. Food won’t crawl into your mouth. You won’t get nonstop calls on your first day. We amplified my hiring announcement to all my contacts. I leaned on 17 years of soft-selling skills honed as a news reporter, plus another decade in corporate communications. I met with people for breakfast, lunch, dinner, coffee, and drinks. I returned every email and phone call.
It’s a big adjustment. Prepare to leave behind your large, talented staffs that help you do everything, everywhere, all at once. When I opened our Chicago office, Mercury’s DC office lent me one associate. Today, our Mercury Illinois operation that I run employs 22 people.
For those House members eyeing the exits, I get it. It’s overwhelming. But there are rules of the road to help you find your way.
This article does not necessarily reflect the opinion of Bloomberg Industry Group, Inc., the publisher of Bloomberg Law, Bloomberg Tax, and Bloomberg Government, or its owners.
Author Information
Cheri Bustos is a partner at Mercury Public Affairs who represented northwest Illinois in the US House from 2013 to 2023.
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