Youngest legislator making her mark

In her first session as a Florida legislator, this year, Republican Rachel Burgin emphasized social conservative issues and often followed in the footsteps of her predecessor, former state Rep. Trey Traviesa.

Burgin, who got her state House seat through an appointment process that caused controversy last year, hit a few bumps, including one bill regulating massage parlor advertising that drew some mockery.

But her experience as an aide to Traviesa helped her work the system better than some expected.

"That gave her a lot of fundamentals on how the process works - little things like handling appointments, getting up in front of a committee, how you work other legislators behind the scenes," said Bill Bunkley, a lobbyist and Tampa activist in Christian-right causes.

When Burgin got the District 56 seat - representing Brandon, Riverview and parts of South Tampa - some critics said she was too young and inexperienced for the post.

Now 26 and still finishing her college degree, she's the youngest legislator. Her girlish voice and baby face don't make her seem any older.

During the session, she didn't try to stand out - a good idea for a freshman in a Legislature where senior leaders set the agenda.

She got attention mainly for two measures, neither of which passed.

She was the lead advocate for a bill long sought by religious conservatives, requiring that women considering abortion be offered ultrasound images of the fetus. Traviesa had pushed the bill during his House career.

Second, she filed a measure late in the session to forbid suggestive language sometimes used in massage parlor advertising to offer sexual services.

It caused snickering on the floor because it included a list of banned words and phrases, from "happy endings" to "you won't be disappointed."

Some of the banned words seemed downright puzzling - "fox hunting" and "make your point," for example, as well as "massages."

Nuts-and-bolts work

Those measures got the most attention, but Burgin also devoted time and energy to lower-profile, nuts-and-bolts legislative work:

•She successfully sponsored a measure creating an Internet safety education program in public libraries. It didn't pass, but it was incorporated into other legislation - probably her biggest win in the session.

•She unsuccessfully sponsored a compensation bill for a young Broward County man permanently paralyzed in a crash with a sheriff's office cruiser. The complex issue, which had limited chances in this tight budget year, may be revived.

•She successfully sponsored a measure making it easier for lenders to repossess vehicles in default, the product of a government task force she had worked with as Traviesa's aide.

•She unsuccessfully pushed a bill to allow private management of the state lottery, another Traviesa priority.

•She unsuccessfully advocated a cause long popular in rapidly developing rural areas, that land should not be appraised for tax purposes based on its development potential.

"It was obviously an unprecedented kind of session," which even experienced legislators found daunting because of the extreme budget problems, Burgin said in an interview last week.

Usually, she said, "Members are fighting to get projects back to their district, but I was put in the situation of fighting to maintain what was current in my district" and prevent cuts.

Asked whether she experienced condescension or slights because of her age, she said no, except for rare exceptions she wouldn't describe.

"There are struggles that every member has getting their objectives accomplished, but I didn't feel like I was out of the norm," she said. "People didn't really look at me, for the most part, any different."

Chosen from a field of nine

Burgin was put on the ballot after Traviesa unexpectedly resigned last year.

He had been virtually unopposed, and his resignation came after qualifying ended. So when local GOP officials chose Burgin to replace Traviesa on the ballot, no one else could run, and she was virtually assured election.

Former party officials David Storck and Carol Carter considered nine applicants, including former schools Superintendent Earl Lennard, former state Rep. Sandy Murman, and Ron Pierce, a Tampa Bay Lightning official, civic activist and former aide to state Sen. Tom Lee.

Burgin was Traviesa's aide, completing a White House internship and living with her parents in Dover, three miles outside Traviesa's district.

A talented singer, she had started college majoring in voice at Bob Jones University, a fundamentalist religious school in South Carolina, but left to work on her brother's unsuccessful state House campaign.

Storck and Carter wouldn't comment on their choice, but party insiders said it was because they wanted a champion for religious and social conservatives who dominate the party in east Hillsborough County.

Lee, who backed Pierce, called it "a microcosm of what's going on in the national and state party, the moderate-conservative battle."

Within six months, Carter and Storck left their party posts after controversies over allegedly racist e-mail they forwarded to other party members.

Critics say Burgin's ascension to the seat was hardly legitimate.

"The process was an insult to the voters," said county Democratic Party Chair Pat Kemp. "Every fair-minded person, including many Republicans, objected to it."

But Burgin noted the process was in accordance with the law.

"Some people will say they wish it had been different, but I was elected by the people of the district," she said.

Burgin is devoutly religious and acknowledges that colors her work, but she denies she is a one-dimensional legislator.

"It's not the entirety of who I am as a state representative," she said.

She now rents a home in Brandon off Bloomingdale Road and is finishing a bachelor's degree in biblical studies at Moody Bible Institute's Tampa campus.

She's single but preoccupied by church activity, her large family - she's the third of seven children - and constituent service, the part of politics she says she likes best.

She said she hopes for graduate education and a possible career in human services or counseling, though not the pastorate.

Like many political figures, Burgin is coy about possible future political ambitions.

"Time will tell," she said.