CPT • Change is Coming to Ohio's iconic 11th Congressional District — Part I

Cuyahoga Politics Today

The 11th Congressional District as we know it is about to change, and with it, black Cleveland has a chance to remake itself — Part I

By R. T. Andrews

The very public effort of US Representative Marcia Fudge to persuade President-elect Joe Biden to appoint her as Secretary of Agriculture is an unmistakable signal that her time in Congress is rapidly coming to a close. Whether or not she secures the Cabinet slot, gets another appointment as consolation prize, or decamps to the nonprofit world, Greater Cleveland will soon have a new Congressional representative. And should some surprising turn of events occur whereby Fudge completes the term to which she was just elected, there is likely zero chance she would run again in 2022, when a new district, redrawn following this year’s Census, will almost certainly be less conducive to the walkover races she’s enjoyed since she won two races to succeed Stephanie Tubbs Jones in 2008.

Why Fudge has one foot out the door and the other in the air is open to speculation;  reluctance to face voters in a new district, and/or a loss of enthusiasm for the job are among those that have been advanced. Frankly, the reasons are subordinate in importance to a host of more substantial questions.

The Stokes brothers, Louis [standing]
and Carl, were architects of what we know
today as the 11th Congressional District.

What is the future of the 11th Congressional District?  How might we shake free of our dependence on the dinosaur style of politics that serves to keep us among the poorest, least healthy, and most ineffective communities in the nation? What opportunities exist for the black community to redefine our current politics? How can we develop and nurture the political talent that can make our politics relevant again? What changes need to be made to create a political climate where our electorate becomes engaged and our turnout is no longer dismal? Where among us at present are the candidates who can effectively represent our interests? How might we support them so that they remain responsive to us and not to the puppet masters who govern the larger community?

Answering these questions would go a long way to making the selection of Fudge’s successor a transformational moment and not just another horse race that reinforces the status quo.

Before we address these questions, let us first take a look back to another transformational moment.

• • •

What we now know as the 11th Congressional District was shaped as a result of multiple lawsuits filed in the 1960s over gerrymandering by the Ohio legislature to prevent the election of a black Congressman by carving up the black community. As Louis Stokes detailed in his memoir, that person most likely would have been his brother, Carl B. Stokes. But, as luck would have it, by the time the litigation was ultimately resolved, shortly after the US Supreme Court ruling in Lucas v. Rhodes, handed down in December 1967, Carl had just made history by becoming the first black elected mayor of a major American city.

[I pause here to give a special shout out to two black attorneys who were stalwart fighters in Cleveland’s civil rights struggles of the 1950s and 1960s: Russell T. Adrine and Richard L. Gunn, who shared legal offices but had separate practices, were part of the successful legal team that created what was originally the Twenty-First Congressional District.]

The chance to become Ohio’s first black Congressman drew a plethora of candidates, including several experienced and well-known politicians: George Forbes, who would become the longest-serving and most powerful city council president in Cleveland’s history; Leo Jackson, an outspoken maverick Glenville area councilman who would go on to a long and distinguished career on the Court of Appeals; and George White, the Lee-Harvard councilman who later became Chief Judge of the US District Court for the Northern District of Ohio.

What opportunities exist for the black community to redefine our current politics?

But Carl Stokes, who had been a driving force behind much of the litigation, was reluctant to concede the seat he felt was his to anyone outside his circle. And thus began the political career of his brother Louis, who would easily win the primary, winning every ward and every precinct, and go on defeat Republican Charles P. Lucas, who had been the plaintiff in the lawsuit that created the seat, in the general election.

Having a black Congressperson in Cleveland has been a given ever since 1968, when Louis Stokes won a special election for the Twenty-First Congressional District and became Ohio’s first black member of Congress. He went on to serve the entire district with distinction for thirty years, winning respect far and wide, perhaps as much for the dignity of his service as for his signal accomplishments and the bounty he returned to the district.

Stokes became the dean of local black politics in Greater Cleveland. While George Forbes, Arnold Pinkney, and later Mike White exercised tremendous political power and influence during the Stokes era, all understood that Lou was the godfather, the umpire and final arbiter on any important matters of political dispute within the black community. Much of his influence was exercised through BEDCO, the Black Elected Officials of Cleveland, the organization Stokes used to maintain a basic level of accountability, order, and coherence among local black elected officials.

The history of the 11th Congressional District has helped make the office of U. S. Representative the holy grail of Cleveland black politics.

As Stokes approached retirement, he proposed county prosecutor Stephanie Tubbs Jones as his successor. Her natural political touch, high name recognition, and immense popularity, along with an already distinguished resume that included service as a Common Pleas Court judge, made her the consensus pick. She won the 1998 primary in a landslide and seemed on her way to becoming a force in Congress when she suffered an aneurysm and died suddenly in July 2008.

The Cleveland black political establishment that had achieved some modicum of black political power, was now aged, and had failed to nurture any first-rate talent or establish any mechanism to pass the baton to the next generation. But in the absence of any countervailing force, they assembled enough energy to push forward a Tubbs Jones ally, then-Warrensville Hts. mayor Marcia Fudge, as her successor.

Unlike the pattern that prevails in districts with white representatives, the job expectation for Cleveland’s black Congressperson has always included more than normal constitutional duties. The history of the seat, coupled with systemic limitations upon the aspirations of black politicians — except for judges, only rarely has a black candidate (Virgil E. Brown Jr., Peter Lawson Jones, and Tubbs Jones) been able to succeed on a countywide ballot, and only one black nonjudicial candidate (Republican Ken Blackwell*) has ever won statewide — and the standard set by Lou Stokes, has made it the holy grail of local black politics.

While an evaluation of Fudge’s tenure in the seat is best left for another day, there is no doubt that the timing and manner of her departure will soon reveal just how bare is the cupboard of black political leadership in Cleveland.

Our next column will take a look at what her departure may mean for the constituents she leaves behind.

• • •• • •

* Blackwell was elected Ohio Treasurer in 1994 and Secretary of State in 1998 and 2002. Our original post said no black nonjudicial candidate had ever won a statewide election. This is true of Democrats who have run statewide.

Additionally, Jennette Bradley was elected Lieutenant Governor in 2002 as Governor Robert Taft's running mate. Taft appointed her as Ohio Treasurer, effective January 2005, to fill a vacancy; however she was defeated in the Republican primary the following year.

Both Blackwell and Bradley are African American.

Black Politics in Cleveland, Part III

New Black Political Action Committee sets up shop in Cleveland

The Collective PAC has local roots, superb credentials, national ambitions

Twenty-first Century African American politics came to Cleveland on Tuesday night and introduced itself with a substantive self-description, a cordial style, and a direct message for all with ears to hear: There are hundreds of progressive black candidates all across the country, likely including a few right here, who have the capacity to change the politics of this nation. To get elected, they need financial support, training, financial support, relationships and financial support.

The messengers were an appealing married couple, Cleveland-area native Stefanie Brown-James and her husband, Quentin James. They arrived on a vehicle, The Collective PAC, and announced the opening of a Cleveland office on Van Aken Boulevard, just off Shaker Square.

The James team has brought plenty of savvy to lead the effort to create relationships, build infrastructure, host candidate training and do fundraising, all in support of select progressive candidates at the local, state and federal levels. They certainly appear have the training to pull it off: Stefanie headed a nationwide segment of the Obama campaign in 2012. Quentin played a similar role for Clinton in 2012 and also has nationwide organizing experience with the environmental movement.

In their maiden effort, the PAC endorsed five candidates across the country in the last [two-year] cycle, and four won. Tellingly, none of the five legislative candidates ran in a majority minority district. Lisa Blunt Rochester, for instance, was elected to Congress from Delaware, the first African American from that state to serve in Congress. As Stefanie Brown-James put it, “we are everywhere.”

Citing a 2014 study, the James said that 90% of elected officials in the US are white, including 95% of prosecutors. Moreover, 94% of GOP candidates are white as are 82% of Democratic candidates.

Quentin, after noting that The Collective PAC is already the nation’s largest black PAC, described the organization’s methodology. They are looking for 45 candidates across the country to support in the current 2017-2018 cycle. To earn Collective support, a candidate will have to demonstrate viability [are they competitive with respect to polls and ability to raise money], values [they must complete a 45 part questionnaire] and internal support [PAC donors get to weigh in on who the Collective supports].

In the Q and A that followed their presentation, the couple was asked how success would be measured. Their answer was threefold: 1. By the increase in the number of progressive African Americans serving in office nationwide; 2. By the degree to which African American donors become engaged and active in politics; and 3. By the increase in turnout among African American voters nationwide.

Typically when black people exercise agency and initiative along the lines indicated in this report, criticism comes in the form of comments that imply there is something untoward if not downright un-American about the effort. That critique did not arise at the launch but the James are clearly ready for it. When asked if the PAC would financially support only black candidates, Quentin James gave an uncompromising yes, comparing the Collective to Emily’s List , which provides financial support only to women candidates. He also referenced AIPAC, [the American Israel Public Affairs Committee] a special interest group that unabashedly supports its own brand of group interest.

Stefanie Brown-James
Co-Founder/CEO, The Collective PAC

At another point Stefanie stepped in and said she wanted to address “the elephant in the room”.

“I see there are there some white people in the room tonight.” Pausing for just an instant to allow just the right amount of tension to surface, she boomed out a hearty “WELCOME! We’re glad you are here” and offered thanks for their support.

Elected officials were spare in attendance. It is likely that few were invited. The list of sponsors who assembled the guest list seemed to be comprised of young progressive types, along with a few elders. But a physician who said that she and her husband, a retired executive, would contribute $5,000.00 during the current election cycle supplied the most electrifying moment of the evening.

The event had an organic quality to it, and the novelty of this effort probably bypassed normal channels. There were of course some folks there whose names have appeared on ballots, and it is probable there was an even greater number of attendees whose names will appear on future ballots.

But this evening was given not to candidates and stump speeches but to the nuts and bolts of campaigning. The PAC’s website says that over 250 candidates have signed up seeking support.

Their political sophistication showed in their inaugural local event, held at the The Lofts, 1677 East 40 Street, in an elegant and gracious space managed by Improve Consulting, a local minority business enterprise owned by Ellen Burts-Cooper. There was an open, help-yourself bar, and lots of delicious hors-d’oeuvres.

Justin Bibb of the host committee, teeing up the crowd for
Quentin James, Founder and Executive Director of The
Collective PAC [standing, rear] and Stefanie Brown-James,
co-founder [hidden behind Bibb]

Excitement over the duo’s message was palpable. Their practical sense is reflected in the initial office locations they have chosen. The main office is Washington DC, but the Collective has satellite offices in both Greenville, South Carolina and Cleveland, their respective hometowns.

After the event, we checked in with Lynnie Powell, regional political director of the Ohio Democratic Party and someone whose acute political instincts, rich political history, and vast ear-to-the-ground network uniquely equip her to assess the newcomers and their efforts.

“Exhilarating!” she exclaimed. “They give me hope! I didn’t know more than five people in the room,” a remarkable declaration, and likely hyperbolic, coming from someone whose job it is to know who’s who. Nonetheless, it suggests that The Collective PAC co-founders and their local cohort have the potential to dramatically affect the political landscape — certainly in Cuyahoga County and quite possibly across the country wherever they choose to play — by bringing new people and new resources into the equation.

Powell went on to say that she had been smiling almost continuously at the energy and intelligence of these new players. She reminisced about the glory days when Lou Stokes ran the Caucus and its affiliated BEDCO [Black Elected Democrats of Cuyahoga County].

Lou, she said, assessed every member of the Caucus $2500 annually, an amount that supported the ground game so critical to electoral success in black communities. She said he accepted no excuses and held each member accountable for either raising the money or paying it out of their own pocket.

After those Caucus successes, the accountability diminished, and a new regimen emerged that no longer required politicians to do any heavy lifting. Powell clearly disdains this development.

“This,” she said, referring to The Collective PAC, “is the first break old style politics. Count her as one vet clearly ready to shake hands across the generational divide and stand shoulder to shoulder in the struggle.

As another, even more senior person, recalled later, “remember when we were the young Turks, trying to bring change and shake things up? As her listener nodded at the shared memory being evoked, the elder said, “we owe it to our parents and we owe it to today’s young Turks to give them the support they need.”

# # #

The Politics of Justice

The political scientist Richard Fenno, after following Cleveland’s legendary Lou Stokes around our town, noted with astonishment the red-carpet treatment and near hero worship the retired Congressman received from his former constituents. Fenno, considered the dean of Congressional scholars, remarked that he had never seen anything like it.

There is no doubt that Lou Stokes is a walking, breathing political giant in our midst. Still, it does not detract one whit from his stature to wonder whether the adulation he — and to a lesser degree, his beloved successor, the late Stephanie Tubbs Jones — continues to receive, says as much or more about the peculiar makeup of identity politics in Cleveland than it does about him.

In any event, it remains our good fortune to have his continued presence on the scene. Today, he appears as the special guest on “It’s About Justice”, the public affairs radio show hosted by retired Cleveland educator and activist Meryl Johnson.

Stokes was an outstanding trial attorney who won landmark cases before the US Supreme Court before beginning his thirty-year political career in the late 1960s. He likely will share his legal and political perspective on this week’s decisions regarding the Court’s savaging of the Voting Rights Act as well as its latest decision on affirmative action. I hope Meryl finds time to ask him about the Court’s DOMA decision as well.

“It’s About Justice” airs on WRUW-FM/91.1 Saturday afternoons from 1:30-2:30PM. You can hear it online at wruw.org/.

• • •

Justice will remain the theme of the week on Mansfield Frazier’s radio show, “The Forum”, which airs tomorrow night from 7-10PM on WTAM-AM/1100.  The show will be dealing with addiction and our country’s phony but devastating “war on drugs”.

Guests will include Cleveland Municipal Court judges Anita Laster Mays and Marilyn B. Cassidy; Debora A. Rodriguez, president and CEO of Recovery Resources; and Peter Christ, co-founder of LEAP [Law Enforcement Against Prohibition]. LEAP’s website says the nonprofit organization is comprised of “criminal justice professionals who bear personal witness to the wasteful futility and harms of our current drug policies.”

“The Forum”, known colloquially to wags as “Negro Night on WTAM”, is a call-in show, so listeners can interact with the show’s host and guests.

The program is also streamed at http://www.wtam.com/main.html.

 • • •

Finally, in keeping with our justice theme, I came across this compelling audio recording of George Zimmerman’s interrogation by the police after he was brought in for questioning following his killing of Trayvon Martin. His attitude is chilling, and begs the question of why it took a national campaign to arrest this menace to society.

In Search of Harriet Tubman

“As a race, here in America, we are still seeking our identity. It has been a painful gradual process — seeking our true place in society, a process marked by a sudden and dramatic societal change as we gain an even greater awareness of who we are. What we are.”

— Carl B. Stokes, from the preface to his political autobiography, Promises of Power.

In Search of Harriet Tubman

One of the recurring themes in my conversations with young African Americans is the noticeable absence of professional elders willing to mentor and support their growth and development. Of course there are a substantial number of people who do encourage and support those who follow in our footsteps. But far too often, especially in corridors of power, finance, and influence, there seems to be an excess of “wait your turn”, “I got mine the hard way, you do the same”, or “I can’t help you without hurting me”.

I would argue that this is one of the key factors that keep our community from enjoying the progress we should based on the talent at hand. Much of this shortsightedness could be overcome in the African American community if our esteemed church leaders and nonprofit institutions focused on the critical need to develop the next generation by exposing them to opportunities to develop and demonstrate leadership skills.

I have run on in the past about how some of what should be our best known organizations — NAACP, the Urban League, United Black Fund, Phillis Wheatley — have seen people entrench themselves in positions of prominence unmatched by performance. And I have been glad to see in the past couple of years that many of these and other organizations have secured new leadership at the helm that seems committed to bringing younger people on board.

What happens in Cleveland’s African American community mimics to a considerable extent what takes place in the larger community. The territorial old boy nature of our county politics — I’m not focused on the scandalous corruption that was here, but rather the myopic pettiness and parochialism among the political class that retards community development — has pretty much been reprised in the black political community. The same could be said, perhaps to a lesser degree, of the corresponding business and civic communities.

Last year I heard our justly venerated former Congressman Louis Stokes share reminiscences of his storied career with groups of young people looking for life lessons from one who had "been there and done that so well for so long". Perhaps it was his intent not to discourage his listeners but I was startled to find him so kind to the establishment. He talked about how he and his brother Carl [future state rep, mayor, judge, ambassador] had been mentored by John O. Holly and other community leaders. He extrapolated that support to suggest that if you wanted to do something positive in Cleveland there were legions of people ready to lend a hand.

Perhaps that was true if you were the Congressman, and if your brother was the mayor. While I have never dwelled in those rarified corridors of power, I do understand how the Stokes boys had to battle the establishment both within and outside the black community. Back then, in Carl’s own words, he had to “run over … the black politicians in the Democratic Party” even as he had to battle the Party’s racist hierarchy. It was much the same when Martin Luther King came to town: much established black clergy wanted little to do with him. This is not even to mention our plague of gatekeepers.

So, to retrieve a familiar phrase, where do we go from here?

Policy Bridge, generally referred to as Cleveland’s black think tank, proposes that we answer that question by looking back and asking ourselves another question: Why Did Harriet (Tubman) Go Back?*

That’s the topic of a special Black History Month forum being co-presented on Tuesday, February 26 at 5 PM by PolicyBridge and the City Club of Cleveland. Randell McShepard, PolicyBridge’s chairman and co-founder, will moderate a panel that includes the organization’s executive director, Gregory Brown; the always astute and incisive Rhonda Y. Williams, Case Western Reserve University history professor and director of its Social Justice Institute; the Rev. Todd C. Davidson, recently called to pastor Antioch Baptist Church; and President Gerald Ford [that is, president of the Urban League’s Young Professionals].

What inspired Tubman repeatedly to put her life in danger repeatedly on behalf of others? What are the lessons that apply even today about her courageous and selfless acts of compassion and leadership? 

Come discuss these questions with the panel and ask your own. Bring answers if you have them!

For tickets [$15.] or information, visit www.cityclub.org or call The City Club: 216.621-0082.

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*  Harriet Tubman led more than 13 missions to rescue 70 slaves using the network of anti-slavery activists and safe houses known as the Underground Railroad. And she never lost a passenger!  [from PolicyBridge event flier].