The September issue of Richmond Magazine offers the most comprehensive look yet at the five candidates for Richmond's next mayor, and while some of the personal stories are compelling I found myself largely underwhelmed by the issues focus of each candidate.
It isn't that they don't have positions, or that the focus is on the wrong issues. No, what kills me is the lack of specificity. Of course, that's what always kills me in political campaigns.
Granted, it's early. Most political campaigns don't really begin to churn until after Labor Day, and I'm pretty certain that the 400 debates and candidate forums slated between September 1 and late October will be enough to drive me mad. But positions will firm up, ideas will take more shape, and policies will emerge during that window.
Policies aside, there's also the matter of finding something in each candidate that I really like. Can't we just adopt the early Soviet model and let three of them govern in some sort of troika? Is there a sixth candidate out there we've somehow overlooked?
On the other hand, getting Wilder's core team -- especially chief financial officer and administrative heavy Harry Black and the overly political PR team led by press secretary Linwood Norman -- out of City Hall might just be enough of a platform to justify a vote for Elmo. The administration's hyper-political management of people, policies, news and information is about 180 degrees from the open, transparent government Richmond needs and deserves.
So, back to the candidates we've got. They're who we have to work with this election season. Today, I'm using Richmond Magazine's recent look at each of the five candidates as my springboard.
Like Richmond Magazine, let's take them in alphabetical order:
Paul Goldman
Goldman brings ideas to the table. Ideas and strategy have been the man's bread-and-butter since he entered the Virginia political scene, helping an African-American named L. Douglas Wilder break into Virginia's "Whites Only" state house as lieutenant governor.
Title aside, Goldman's idea for a "Richmond Unity Council" catches my attention. It's described as "an 18-member group of appointed residents and city officials meeting every three weeks. The purpose: to develop better ways of managing the city."
It's intriguing, this idea of Goldman's. But a couple of thoughts immediately pop into my head -- for instance, shouldn't the department heads be held accountable for "developing better ways of managing the city"? It's something Rachel Flynn managed to do out of the gate with the charrette process for the Downtown Plan, and Chris Beschler in public utilities has been getting high marks for his different style of thinking. I want more competence in my public officials. What I'd rather see is a commitment to holding public administrators accountable for delivering both basic services and innovative practices.
But Goldman doesn't stop with one idea -- he's a fountain of them, always bubbling up with another notion to turn things around. And, as Harry Kollatz observes, he knows how to speak in a way that engages people emotionally:
His porch talk is emphatic: Richmond has the most expensively run City Hall, the oldest schools and the highest water rates in the state. “We may as well be drinking champagne,” he says, often met with responses of “You got that right.”
Goldman reiterates how, in 2006, he devised the five-year, $250 million “City of the Future” capital improvement plan; to fund it, the city would borrow money against the real-estate tax revenue generated as a large wave of property-tax abatements expired — instead of raising taxes. City Council, city school administrators and Wilder have had this plan for three years, he says, “and all they’ve done is argue. Meanwhile, Richmond’s children suffer. But the Carpenter Center’s getting redone.”
To some degree, Goldman's priorities harken back to the early days of the Wilder administration, for which Goldman once played the role of policy guru. But no longer are Goldman's ideas filtered through whatever channel Doug Wilder is broadcasting from. Now it's Goldman Unfiltered, for better and for worse.
Goldman's focus on big ideas, his ability to wrap those ideas with detail, and the sheer size of his battery, keep him on the front burner of candidates in this race.
Robert Grey
If Goldman is a man of ideas, Grey appears to live more in the land of intellect and connection.
And while Grey's resume speaks volumes -- chair of the ABC board; lobbyist; president of the Crusade of Voters; chair of the Greater Richmond Partnership; president of the American Bar Association; partner at Hunton & Williams law firm -- it doesn't come close to telling his story, which is more deeply rooted in the history and legacy of Richmond than most.
Grey grew up in Richmond’s North Side. Civil-rights lion Oliver Hill Sr. lived nearby, as did Wilder, who, before he turned to politics, was a successful lawyer. Both men showed young Grey the world of the possible. Later, he would get to know them both.
Grey describes his parents as adventurous and outgoing people who cultivated a diverse group of friends and colleagues. His mother, Barbara, worked as a teacher and administrator in Richmond Public Schools, while the late Robert Sr. directed the Richmond Urban League and worked as community-relations manager for A.H. Robins pharmaceuticals...
... He earned his undergraduate degree from the hippie-era Richmond Professional Institute as it morphed into Virginia Commonwealth University. Young Grey cultivated an Afro hairstyle so large, he jokes, that when the wind caught it, he blew to one side.
By the time Grey graduated from law school at Washington & Lee University, he could have written himself a ticket anywhere. He chose to write a ticket back to Richmond.
Today, Grey runs the risk that the story of his childhood, his influences and the emotional connection he has with the Richmond community will be lost in a campaign that so far has no defining center. His ties to the business community and to Wilder threaten to overshadow Grey's personal commitment to the city's future, even as he calls for new leadership at City Hall and in the schools:
Grey signed the August 2007 “Gang of 26” letter drafted by Richmond business leaders, a manifesto that advocated replacing the present elected school board with an appointed one.
After the letter, Grey says, financial accountability for the schools shot to the forefront, and now some members of that group are on the search committee for the next superintendent.
Grey says a substantial opportunity has arisen to bring new leadership to the system. “The ingredients are there to begin a powerful movement for improving the schools. It’s clear to me now that people want to elect their school board. If I become mayor, I will respect and support that decision.”
Grey in 2006 responded to Mayor Wilder’s call to get the downtown performing-arts center project, in Grey’s words, out of the ditch. Wilder pulled the plug on city spending for a crucial interval, and demanded an accounting.
Nobody was talking to each other, but Grey brought the interested parties together and got some to back off their positions for the sake of the project. He expects to attend the ribbon-cutting ceremony of Richmond CenterStage next September.
“You can’t impose progress,” he says. “It requires trust and shared visions, and a lot of hard work.”
One of Grey's biggest challenges seems to be that bane of most longtime civic leaders -- balancing his support of past decisions (his and those of others) even as he calls for change and renewal.
While the tone of Grey's campaign and some of his ideas for Richmond are solid, they will need fleshing out if he hopes to turn this into a campaign of ideas -- and win it.
Dwight Jones
Like his competition, Virginia Delegate Dwight Clinton Jones wants to change the tone at City Hall. In Jones' future Richmond, the mayor is working closely with City Council and the School Board, and the General Assembly sees the Capital City as an investment opportunity, not a drain. Ambitious stuff.
Jones doesn't appear to have Goldman's capacity for big ideas and he lacks Grey's deep connections to Richmond's roots, but he's established himself deeply in Richmond's Southside. He has passion, and he has a small army of passionate supporters. And his appeal to the districts across the river may be his ticket to City Hall.
As pastor of First Baptist Church on Richmond’s South Side, Jones has a prominent profile in the city, particularly along Hull Street, where a nonprofit corporation affiliated with the church owns multiple properties. The church, which has long owned outside land, bought the properties from the 1300 to the 1600 blocks of Hull beginning in 1997, but development took several years to materialize.
“The Hull Street corridor has been neglected,” Jones says, noting that the church’s properties along Hull are meant to be anchors to lure new developments, filling in the empty spaces.
But what of his ability to win districts north of the James, especially those who don't know him well politically? Jones thinks a focus on schools and on building bridges -- regionally and with the General Assembly -- will give his campaign lift.
Middle schools, Jones says, are the key to turning around Richmond’s high dropout rate, by engaging kids’ interest in school before they get “lost” in high school. He would work toward turning junior highs into “laboratory schools,” each with a special focus, much like magnet or model schools, incorporating input from VUU, VCU and the University of Richmond.
Jones also hopes to improve the city’s relationships with state legislators and officials in neighboring counties, as well its internal relationships.
“Richmond is not well-thought-of in the General Assembly,” he says, mainly because of a lack of a cohesive message. “In many senses, it’s a whipping boy.” He points to the fact that Wilder uses one lobbying organization, City Council another — with little communication between the two.
Like Grey, Jones has an opportunity to tell his story -- and to tighten up his take on the issues. Every candidate knows that a focus on schools is a non-negotiable bullet on their campaign brochure, but it remains to be seen if regional cooperation is enough of a pull to set Jones apart in the eyes of voters.
Bill Pantele
Message to voters: He's not Doug. Message to Bill: Duh.
No one got slapped around by Doug Wilder as much as City Council President Bill Pantele, and Pantele gave as good as he got. Some of the dust-ups were the consequence of small town politics; many of them had the feel of pre-meditated attempts to take Pantele out -- the souped-up porn-on-computer allegations, for instance.
While Pantele knows he's not running as the anti-Doug candidate, like most of the candidates he does hope to tap into Richmond voters' simmering disgust with the politics of personality that has hamstrung policymaking at City Hall.
He pitches himself as a common man who will drive himself to work (unlike Doug) and a pragmatist who will push for competence and professionalism at City Hall. And he sees Richmond's schools as the most important issue to tackle:
The councilman has strong ambitions to improve the city’s schools, changing both the “reality and perception,” he says. He recognizes that the city has pockets of poverty that correspond to high dropout rates, truancy and low academic performance, but elementary schools such as Swansboro and Woodville are examples that a “poor population doesn’t have to mean poor education.”
Pantele lived in Richmond as a child and moved to Henrico when he was a preteen, graduating from the West End’s Douglas S. Freeman High School in 1976.
His plan is to work with the Richmond School Board to create magnet middle schools with the assistance of local businesses. “I’m really the only candidate who has the experience to make the city government work well,” he says. “Most [mayoral candidates] are outsiders who don’t understand how the city works and how it should work.”
Outside of the schools issue, Pantele's biggest window for victory may well be in convincing voters that he has a better understanding than most of the core problems in city government -- and a plan to address them.
Reviewing city departments, determining “what is optional and what is necessary.” Street conditions and tree maintenance, as well as other core services, need to be at “100 percent” before addressing less crucial items, Pantele says.
Pantele's emphasis on city services and on prioritizing where the city and its employees spend their time and money could be revolutionary, if led well. (We should know -- Wilder tackled the same issue, made a reasonable amount of progress, and then took his eye off the ball.)
Lawrence Williams
The most invisible, and perhaps idealistic, candidate in the race challenges Paul Goldman for the title of "Most Visionary" candidate. Architect Lawrence Williams brings little more than ambitious dreams to the race -- little cash, little name recognition. He's a firm believer that a strong vision coupled with an ability to build is what makes a good mayor:
Williams is soft-spoken, professorial. From his seat at the candidates’ table, he peers myopically at the audience. He is no politician, though he ran unsuccessfully for mayor in 2004, and City Council in 1996 and 2003. He is an architect. And that, Williams says, is exactly what the city needs. As an architect, he says, he knows Richmond’s neighborhoods. He understands how to plan vibrant communities. And he knows the city should not pay $908,000 for a new school elevator, the average estimate Richmond Public Schools received. “Just up the street, I put in an elevator for $200,000,” he says.
Politicians like to take credit for projects that have improved Richmond, he says. “They’re administrators. And they let architects do the work.”
Another Richmond native -- born and raised in Church Hill -- Williams puts a spin on event the most basic of ideas:
As mayor, he says, he would build three middle schools: a new Boushall, a new Chandler and an expanded Martin Luther King Jr. They would not be merely schools, he says, but community hubs. Williams pulls out architectural drawings by another firm that show how this plan would work: a school building with a neighboring social-services building, police precinct, high-rise apartment building for seniors and green space. Having all of these services in one place would create sorely needed community centers and make it easier for young families and kids to get the assistance they need, he says.
Herndon looks favorably on Williams’ plans to bring senior housing, services and schools together. The only challenge with building projects like community centers, she says, is “who’s going to fund it?” Williams plans to get different city agencies to pool their budgets to make these hubs happen.
The city also needs better mass transit, including light rail alongside existing rail lines, Williams says, and a multi-use complex at the Diamond that would function as a “Short Pump Central” shopping district. As far as baseball goes, he says, it would be good to get another AAA or AA minor-league team there, but he’d also like to see the Diamond used for concerts and other events. “No one is going to out-imagine me,” he says.
Williams is very much a longshot, but he's certainly bringing a different perspective on what Richmond could become. If he doesn't win, he'd make a good policy advisor for the next mayor.
