From Eve to Katrina, women have borne more than their fair share of blame for what ails humanity. You can't blame the ladies, though, for the city of Pittsburgh's woes.

	WOMEN IN PITTSBURGH CITY GOVERNMENT Irma D'Ascenzo, councilwoman, 1956-1970 Amy Ballinger, councilwoman, 1970-1976 Sophie Masloff, councilwoman, 1976-1988, mayor 1988-1993 Michelle Madoff, councilwoman, 1978-1993 Valerie McDonald, councilwoman, 1994-2002 Barbara Burns, councilwoman, 2000-2003 Twanda Carlisle, councilwoman, 2002-present

In an era of increasing female participation in urban governance, Pittsburgh is an exception, with just one woman among 11 elected officials. The city's budget struggles, population losses and dowdy Downtown districts have some wondering: Couldn't this town use a woman's touch?

"A lot of people believe that women do it differently," said Tonya Payne of the Hill District, the lone woman on the ballot for City Council this year. "We're more compassionate. We're more fiscally responsible."

And right now, they're increasingly impatient with the city's masculine political culture.

"Considering that women are 51 percent of the population ... I think that's shameful," said Gloria Forouzan, organizer of Run, Baby, Run, a workshop for women interested in electoral politics set for Sept. 17.

Before Irma D'Ascenzo ascended to council in 1956, city governance was entirely a man's game. For 49 years since, women have held one or two council seats. One served as mayor -- Sophie Masloff, who held the post from 1988 through 1993. There has never been a female controller.

Twanda Carlisle is the lone woman on council now, making the city's nine-member legislature just 11 percent female.

Women have done better, politically, in most other cities. A 2003 report by the University of Pittsburgh's University Center for Social and Urban Research found that in the 52 largest U.S. cities, 32 percent of all council members were women.

Philadelphia's council is 35 percent female.

Locally, women are better represented on suburban councils than on the city's. The Pitt study found that 18 percent of the region's municipal and county council members were women. Allegheny County Council is 27 percent female, with three of the four women from the suburbs.

"Having more women in government means it's more likely that there will be more attention to domestic violence, health care, child care, rape response, and a variety of family leave and family well-being issues," said Allyson Lowe, director of the Pennsylvania Center for Women, Politics and Public Policy at Chatham College. Lowe's center and the Women and Girls Foundation of Southwest Pennsylvania plan to train 50 women to influence government in a Jan. 27 and 28 program called Ready to be Heard.

Female voices could make a difference on city issues like pool closures, Lowe said. What's more, women can gain experience in local politics that can carry them forward to state or national office, where they are also underrepresented.

The May primary featured eight candidates for mayor and 15 for council. Just three, all running for council, were women.

"I don't understand why more women don't step out and run," said Barbara Ernsberger, chair of the city's Democratic Committee, who in 2001 dropped a council bid when she didn't get her party's endorsement. Child-rearing responsibilities may preempt politics for some, she said.

"Women are hesitant," said Forouzan. "They say, 'I'm not qualified.' Most men don't say that."

The rough-and-tumble of politics discourages some women, said Barbara Burns, a council member from 2000 through 2003. "It's much harder for women to step into a very public fishbowl where people will say things about you regardless of fact," she said.

Politics is rough in other cities, too, but women run and win. What's wrong in Pittsburgh?

"I think we're only one or two generations away from the immigrants who brought with them the concept that a woman's place is in the home," said Masloff.

In 1989, Masloff ran against four men. "At every debate we had, I was at a distinct disadvantage, because they ganged up on me," she said. She said gender ultimately worked in her favor, because she stood out.

Some women said the Democratic Committee tends to promote favorite sons from families with deep political roots.

When Carlisle ran in 2002, committee members from her northeast Pittsburgh district deadlocked on whether to nominate her or Louis "Hop" Kendrick. Carlisle won a coin flip.

Getting women on the ballot shouldn't be left to chance, said Carlisle. "My Democratic Party hopefully will do a better job now, in 2005, to make sure more women are in positions of power."

Women's groups aren't waiting.

Run, Baby, Run teaches women the mechanics of electoral politics. Forouzan said that three-quarters of the early registrants for the Sept. 17 workshop are from within the city limits.

In 2002, Carlow College began offering majors and minors in public policy and leadership, and a Women in Politics class that encourages students to volunteer in campaigns. Last year's students "could not wait to get back to class and tell us what they'd done" as campaign volunteers, said Emma Lucas-Darby, associate dean and director of Carlow's School for Social Change.

A push by the Women and Girls Foundation to get more women appointed to governmental boards and commissions has, as one of its motives, the grooming of future female candidates. "Boards are a good entry-point to politics," said Heather Arnet, the foundation's executive director.

Perhaps most important, a few women are coming to the conclusion that running for office is a no-lose proposition.

In May, Erin Molchany of Duquesne Heights finished fourth out of five Democrats in a council primary. "You look at what works, you look at what didn't work, and file it away for the next time around," said Molchany, 28. "Down the line, you'll definitely see me in the political realm again."