As much as we hate to admit it, City Politics is hard work.
It doesn’t matter which position we’re talking about. From being a member of the smallest Board of Education in the area to serving as Mayor of Toledo, it’s difficult to get there and tough to keep the job. And while in office, don’t expect any gratitude or pats on the back. It’s mostly damned if you do, damned if you don’t, and just plain damned in between.
Yet the people who fill these positions are the backbone of our democracy. They do the work of the people, representing us in making decisions large and small, setting policy that determines our quality of life and the strength of our cities, villages, and townships. They have our children’s future in their hands. Collectively, they have custody of literally billions of our public investment dollars.
Size matters
Folks representing even the smallest jurisdictions answer to an unrelenting and often ungrateful electorate. That increases exponentially for folks who represent the largest cities or the county as a whole. The public scrutiny is never-ending and the expectations unrealistic. An elected official must be both “just like us everyday folk” and simultaneously squeaky clean, nearing perfection.
Folks in political positions in the big burgh of Toledo get the lion’s share of pressure. The talking heads and wagging tongues of the media, including those of us here at the City Politics stronghold, take swipes at every perceived misstep. The font size increases and the stories get pushed to the front as you move up the ladder. In order to get into the kitchen, you have to be fully prepared to take the heat.
Getting into the kitchen in the first place is just part of the ongoing pressure cooker of City Politics. It takes tens of thousands of dollars in campaign cash to get elected to the Toledo School Board or City Council, hundreds of thousands to become Mayor. In order to raise that kind of dough you must be well connected politically.
The campaign pressure becomes a sort of litmus test to see if you’re heat-resistant enough to make it once in office. Office holders in Toledo oversee budgets in the hundreds of millions per annum. They determine the fate of tens of millions of economic investment dollars. They decide who gets contracts and for what projects. The City literally rises and falls on their votes. People tend to care about this stuff.
So why are openings on these bodies treated like a “Help Wanted” sign down at the local comedy club?
Punch lines
Case in point. The opening in Council District Four created when Mayor Paula Hicks Hudson ascended to become Mayor. Folks applied for a position with fiduciary responsibility over a budget of over six hundred million dollars when it is apparent that they can’t balance their own check books.
At least candidate Yvonne Harper has a good excuse. She is convinced her outstanding income tax issues have been resolved. But Scott Ramsey? He touted himself as a good business owner. Meanwhile he hid his refusal to pay property taxes and his recent foreclosure until after his appointment to the seat.
Perhaps more troubling is the fact that he collected thousands of dollars of sales taxes from customers on behalf of the state and then used the money as if it was his personal account. Councilman Rob Ludeman says that’s fine with him. Ouch.
Suddenly Ramsey has oversight over not thousands of the people’s dollars but hundreds of millions. Plus he’s drawing a public paycheck, with which he could pay the public debt he never paid out of his own private pocket. We only wish this was all just a cruel joke instead of reality.
Now there’s an opening for an at-large seat created with the passing of Jack Ford. Perhaps buoyed by the laugh-a-minute shenanigans in District Four, the roaches have slithered from the woodwork to apply. The new President of Council Steven Steel decided to create an application form this time around so members can see who owes what to whom before the appointment is made. Which will presumably be ignored by Ludeman.
The applicants include a couple cranks, a wing nut, and over two dozen of their brethren and sistren. Really, Carolyn Eyre? Losing election after election hasn’t told you anything? And Stephen Goldman, you must really enjoy rejection. Can’t you take a hint?
Some unemployed guy is looking to catch on as top management with one of the top employers in the region by being appointed to Council. So are a couple of high school graduates with menial jobs on their resumes. Really.
We think Council made one key mistake in advertising for these positions. Discrimination on the basis of race, gender, or sexual orientation is wrong. But some types of discrimination are crucial to establishing a level of credibility.
Let’s just be brutally honest. Whack jobs, losers, loony tunes, and Carolyn Eyre need not apply. And yes, there will be background checks.
The appointment will be made on April 14th. We’re holding our breath.