On an abandoned Senate floor, after a long day of debates has soaked into the stolid granite walls and her colleagues have left the Hill, Margaret Dayton is hunched over her desk.

Speaking quietly into a Blackberry with a constituent, the Orem Republican is also printing out e-mails, mostly about immigration, for review. Dayton is considered one of the hardest working members of the Senate.

But she is also raising eyebrows among her fellow senators, and the public, for her comments and stances during the 2008 legislative session, her second in the Senate.

Whether bemoaning racial discrimination against white, Christian men or railing against the anti-Americanism of the United Nations that she says is taught in advanced high school classes, Dayton's head remains unbowed.

"I'm a very politically incorrect kind of person," she says.

Live by the sword ...

On Feb. 21, Dayton took umbrage with a request that the Legislature infuse $300,000 into the International Baccalaureate program, which is designed to give high schoolers a broader world view.

"I'm opposed to the anti-American philosophy that's somehow woven into all the classes as they promote the U.N. agenda," Dayton said before helping kill the funding. That drew a chorus of complaints from teachers, students and the public. Her e-mail responses to those groups are trademark Dayton: apologetic for any misunderstanding but absolute in conviction.

But she also drew heavy fire from her co-workers and was publicly chastised. The funding request was quickly reinstated at the governor's insistence (he has a son in the program); and on one day last week a group of IB students packed the Senate gallery. They were acknowledged by Majority Leader Curt Bramble, R-Provo, who was looking at Dayton while he did it, rather than at the students.

Even with that, she maintains her original stance that IB "started out as a great program" but is now tied to the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization. She'd rather export America's ideas than import them from the U.N., she says, though she does concede that Utah's schools appear to be doing a good job with the program.

The IB incident earned an entry on Wikipedia, updated Feb. 28. The entry says that her IB comments "were seen by some as xenophobic and created some controversy."

Her story

Dayton is no stranger to controversy.

Her political ambitions surfaced in the mid-90s when she was appointed to the Utah House of Representatives. It was the same time many other women like Hillary Clinton were becoming prominent across the country. But it was more as a counterweight to the women's movement that she stepped into public life.

"I thought, 'They don't speak to me or the women I know,'" said Dayton, who views liberalism as being driven by women.

Once in the House, she established herself as an institution, reading every single bill often late into the night as she still does in the Senate.

Joining her often was Rep. Becky Lockhart, R-Provo, who says Dayton was a much-needed mentor.

"I would say 'So I got an intern, what am I supposed to have them do?'" Lockhart said of her early days in the House.

Whether small issues or large, her "laser-like" focus rarely misses a target.

There is perhaps no clearer example than Dayton's crusade against President George W. Bush's education initiative No Child Left Behind.

Now considered a national expert, she railed against the unfunded mandate as expensive, burdensome and unconstitutional. The rest of the country eventually got in line behind Dayton. Threats of state lawsuits against the federal government and attempts at negotiations to soften the mandate have led to NCLB's renewal being hopelessly bogged down in Congress with even previously supportive Republicans disavowing it.

Vaulted to the national limelight, she saw an opportunity when then-Sen. Parley Hellewell stepped down to pursue business interests two years ago. She announced she would run for his seat and with the backing of Senate President John Valentine ran the table even after Hellewell tried to get back in the game.

She said others have tried to talk her into pursuing national office, but she's turned those offers down. Instead she's focusing on the local level where there's more opportunity for her strong-willed input.

That kind of idealism can be a strength, said Bramble in an interview. "She brings a strong, conservative philosophy," he said. That includes a non-stop push for lower taxes, local control whenever possible and, above all, following the rule of law.

From meeting times to meeting with church leaders over concerns they were softening their stance on illegal immigration, Dayton is known for her efforts to follow the rule of law. The meeting resulted in church officials telling her to follow her conscience on immigration bills. A quick glance at the schedule for the Senate Education Committee shows start times of 8:04 a.m., 2:13 p.m. and 3:41 p.m. The odd times are to get members' attention, she said, and to ensure that they meet when they should and not 20 minutes late, as do many other committees.

Unstoppable force

Whether it's a fight over $100,000 in local funding or hundreds of millions in federal cash, whether in the midst of roiling immigration debate or in the middle of singing "Happy Birthday" to Senate interns, Dayton is deft at disarming her associates.

First, it's hard to argue with someone who is constantly smiling. The smile is omnipresent, whether during press interviews or when conducting meetings as the chairwoman of the Senate's Education Committee.

Several people who have worked closely with Dayton, or against her, say that the smile is present even when she's working against them. To her credit, they say, the blow never comes from the back.

She also never raises her voice and will gladly talk to those on both sides of the aisle.

"She's very agreeable to discuss differences," said Sen. Ross Romero, D-Salt Lake City, though it rarely, if ever, goes beyond talk.

Romero has squared off against Dayton perhaps more than any other member of the Legislature, having also worked with her in the House. While he calls her a very "conscientious public official," he nevertheless finds himself shaking his head at some of her actions.

The day before her IB comments during a debate about a registry for women and minority business owners that would help them get government contracts, Dayton piped up about her disapproval. "I just want to register my continued frustration that it seems like the white male is such a burden, or a frustration to society," Dayton said. "I really have angst with the growing discrimination toward the white male, family-oriented Christian male."

"I was quite surprised by her comment," said Romero, who was carrying the House bill in the Senate.

He said there was already a tense atmosphere over immigration and the racially charged words of Sen. Chris Buttars less than 10 days earlier. Buttars, upping the rhetorical ante after other senators referred to a bill as a "baby" and dividing the baby a la Solomon, blurted out that "This baby is black. ... It is a dark, ugly thing."

Dayton's remarks about white males rattled the normally button-down Senate, which tends to be more clubbish than the free-for-all found in the House. But it's that atmosphere and attitude that drew Dayton to the Senate. The majority party holds its caucuses behind closed doors, a practice assailed by critics. But Dayton subscribes to it enthusiastically. It allows people to be more honest about their feelings, she said.

"You can't have that same kind of open and frank discussion on some of these intense issues," she said of public hearings. "You're much more constrained in your comments."

But her inflexibility and occasional inability to see two sides of issues has cost her goodwill among her own party and could keep her off the track to leadership positions, said one ranking lawmaker who asked for anonymity to speak openly.

Immovable object

Two examples this year of Dayton's perceived bias toward one group over another include her legislation seeking further restrictions on licensed direct-entry midwives and her handling of a wilderness group.

Three years ago she argued against allowing certain midwives to be licensed by the state but lost the battle in a close vote. For several years she has sought to pass a bill that she touts as simply setting definitions for the kinds of births that midwives can attend, a loophole left in the original act.

But the licensed direct-entry midwives shook their heads and said that under the chosen definition (from the World Health Organization) they wouldn't be able to find any clients. They also argue that Dayton was simply taking marching orders from the Utah Medical Association.

"She's trying to put us out of business," said Suzanne Smith, a midwife who founded Better Birth in Orem.

A deal was eventually brokered between the UMA and the midwives, but it was Lockhart who was the go-between, not Dayton.

The wilderness issue is reminiscent of the IB incident. Going on information that perhaps earlier testimony was not accurate, she told a Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance lawyer that he had to be sworn in before testifying during a committee meeting. But at the same time, witnesses on the other side of the issue were not asked to be sworn in.

A stunt like that only serves to stifle public involvement, Romero said, especially since it was singling out one side. "Everyone who comes up to the Capitol is expected to be honest and forthright," he said.

Family

The senator known for ideals set in stone is remarkably soft-hearted when conversation turns to her family. During an after-hours interview in the Senate lounge, her husband Lynn arrived and plunked down next to her on a couch, threw his arm around her and chatted amiably for several minutes. They met while both in the medical field -- she was a nurse and he is a doctor -- and they've been married for more than 30 years. They have children, but Dayton declines to give any details including names or how many, though that information can be found relatively quickly online -- her family includes 12 children, some of whom are stepchildren.

She choked up Friday in the Senate during the honoring of several transplant doctors. Over the past year, one of her sons donated a kidney to another.

Acknowledging that she can be controversial, she says she wants to protect her family from those who disagree with her positions and often communicate with her in threatening tones, especially by e-mail.

"It sometimes makes people forget they're talking to a person," she said.