Women politicians in the US fight for 'potty parity'

Female politicians — 41 of the 138-member legislature — needing a reprieve during a lengthy floor session have to weigh the risk of missing an important debate or a critical vote.

None of their male colleagues face the same dilemma because, of course, multiple men's bathrooms are available. 

The legislature even installed speakers in the men's bathrooms to broadcast the chamber's events so they don't miss anything important. 

House Speaker David Osborne allows women to use his single-stall bathroom in the chamber, but even that attracts long lines. 

"You get the message very quickly: This place was not really built for us," said Lisa Willner, a Democrat from Louisville, reflecting on the photos of former lawmakers, predominantly male, that line her office. 

The issue of potty parity may seem comic, but its impact runs deeper than uncomfortably full bladders, said Kathryn Anthony, from the University of Illinois School of Architecture.

"If you have an environment that is designed for half the population but forgets about the other half, you have a group of disenfranchised people and disadvantaged people," she said.

There is hope for Kentucky's lady legislators.

A $US300 million ($A451 million) renovation of the 155-year-old Capitol — scheduled for completion by 2028 at the earliest — aims to create more women's restrooms and end Kentucky's bathroom disparity.

The Bluegrass State is among the last to add bathrooms to aging statehouses that were built when female legislators were not a consideration.

In the $US392 million ($A589 million) renovation of the Georgia Capitol, expanding bathroom access is a priority, said Gerald Pilgrim, chief of staff with the state's Building Authority. 

It will introduce female facilities on the building's fourth floor, where the public galleries are located, and will add more bathrooms throughout to comply with the Americans with Disabilities Act.

"We know there are not enough bathrooms," he said.

There's no federal law requiring bathroom access for all genders in public buildings. 

Some 20 states have statutes prescribing how many washrooms buildings must have, but historical buildings — such as statehouses — are often exempt.

Over the years, as the makeup of state governments has changed, statehouses have added bathrooms for women.

When Tennessee's Capitol opened in 1859, the architects designed only one restroom — for men only — situated on the ground floor. 

According to legislative librarian Eddie Weeks, the toilet could only be "flushed" when enough rainwater had been collected.

"The room was famously described as 'a stench in the nostrils of decency,'" Weeks said. 

Today, Tennessee's Capitol has a female bathroom located between the Senate and House chambers. 

It's in a cramped hall under a staircase, sparking comparisons to Harry Potter's cupboard bedroom, and it contains just two stalls. 

The men also just have one bathroom on the same floor, but it has three urinals and three stalls.

Aftyn Behn, who was elected in 2023, said she wasn't aware of the disparity in facilities until contacted by The Associated Press.

"I've apparently accepted that waiting in line for a two-stall closet under the Senate balcony is just part of the job," she said.

"I had to fight to get elected to a legislature that ranks dead last for female representation, and now I get to squeeze into a space that feels like it was designed by someone who thought women didn't exist, or at least didn't have bladders," Behn said.

In Colorado, female House representatives and staff were so happy to have a restroom added in the chamber's hallway in 1987 that they hung a plaque to honour Arie Taylor, the state's first black woman legislator, who pushed for the facility.

The plaque, now inside a women's bathroom in the Capitol, reads: "Once here beneath the golden dome if nature made a call, we'd have to scramble from our seats and dash across the hall ... Then Arie took the mike once more to push an urge organic, no longer do we fret and squirm or cross our legs in panic."

The poem concludes: "In memory of you, Arie (may you never be forgot), from this day forth we'll call that room the Taylor Chamber Pot."