THE LONG DISTANCE RUNNER: AN ANALYSIS (part one of two).

Please don’t think for a minute that I am angry about losing my race last Tuesday, because I am not. My mind is at ease. I am at peace with myself. I am back to walking around the apartment in the nude. And I am writing poetry again. I am glad I ran. I wouldn’t trade the strange experience of this campaign for anything. It was rather informative and revealing. It’s just that I have to get a few things off my mind and that’s why I am writing this particular two-part column: that’s all. And by now some of you must know that I hate to keep hot things on my chest unless it is a female human; so here goes. (BTW: my comment section is closed).

Early in my campaign for the 40th city council seat, I came upon a personally defining moment. It was just around the beginning of spring. I was talking to a small group of residents and answering questions, when one asked what I would do if I were to lose the race -since the perception was that the incumbent Mathieu Eugene was unbeatable (given the overwhelming Haitian-American presence in the neighborhood). My response drew ire from a few of my supporters. I said: “my life doesn’t begin or end with me winning or losing this race”. It may not have been the smartest answer but it was an honest one. Therein lies my biggest problem with one of my two opponents (Leithland “Rickie” Tulloch): he needs to get a life. It should never be about winning at all costs.

In his apparent desperation to win this race, Tulloch was willing to denigrate the contributions and accomplishments of his two opponents. He was also willing to openly lie about both of us. He knew better. He should be ashamed of himself.

I got many warnings that Tulloch was going negative way back last year -even before I formally announced that I was running. I ignored them. Some of the things some of his supporters accused me of I still refuse to repeat, since they were that ridiculous. And yet, to stand and listen to the candidate himself spread lies about where I lived -when I pay rent for my apartment- was tough to take. To hear him -with my own ears- consistently denigrate the contributions of both Mathieu Eugene and myself was a bit too much to take -especially for someone as feisty as I am. I am proud to say that I didn’t entirely lose it in some of these run-ins, although once or twice we came close to butting heads.

When confronted about what he was saying and doing, Tulloch at times shifted his position to say that I just moved in the district to run this race; knowing full well that my relationship with the 40th council district spans more than 35 years. Some of his supporters knew me from working on political campaigns, tenant initiatives and community development issues, going way back to the nineties. I could name at least two of his supporters with whom I have worked politically over the years.

Even when he was informed of the truths he insisted that I didn’t live in the district, as if he pays my rent; as if he sleeps in my bed; as if he sleeps with all of the women in my harem/lol. His literature implied the same of both Eugene and myself. He was somewhat successful in trying to pin the “carpetbagger” label on both of us (especially me). He also verbally insisted that I had made no contributions to the development of the community. He kept insisting over and over again that I just moved back in to run this race; knowing full well that I never really left. I still belonged to many organizations based here even during my hiatus out of this area. He knew all this. My website (www.rockhackshaw.com) was informative enough; plus over the last few years, many people told him who I was. I know this for a truth, based on the fact that some of them told me so.

In this race, I should have gone upside Rickie Tulloch’s head (politically) since we had developed some stuff in the opposition research. I chose not to go into the mud. I still don’t fully regret this decision, but that doesn’t mean it was the strategically correct one. When we found out that he was exploiting Mexican immigrants in his campaign, the decision was made to not take it beyond one of the debates. When we found some stuff as to his proclivities, again I decided to stay out of the pig sty. I only play soccer in the mud.

During the campaign I encountered numerous people who kept insisting that I didn’t live on Caton Avenue -because Tulloch and his people said so. I also ran into many who assumed that if they said it, then it must be accurate. I had to spend valuable time trying to offset this drivel. I believe that I was mainly unsuccessful. Once an iota of doubt is planted in a voter’s mind, it becomes a roadblock that’s difficult to move, in order to let the truth pass through. I tried to tell my staffers that we had to respond negatively to his hits: they overruled me. I told them it was costing me votes: they said ignore it. I followed their decisions. I have no one to blame but me; the buck stops here. And to have beaten Mathieu Eugene this time around, all the stars would have had to be lined up right. It was that tough to go up against his base in this particular area at this particular point in the history of this district.

Tulloch knew that the law allows one to move into the district on the day of the election. He also knew that one is allowed as many residences as he/she wants or needs, once the voting residence is clear and established. He also knew that he himself voted for Hilary Clinton in 2000; so go figure. He knew that the whole residency thing was moot and all it did was obfuscate the real issues of this campaign; thus I could only assume that he was afraid to discuss real ideas and a vision for the area. That’s probably why the Caribbean Life and Flatbush Life newspapers didn’t give him their endorsements; they gave it to me. I tried to raise the standards of the political discourse. I tried to stay out of the mud in which he strives and thrives, but there will be fire next time.

When Tulloch started shadowing me at the subways, I wanted to physically confront him and introduce him to Mr. Lefty Punch (a la Senator Kevin Parker), but decorum took a hold of me. I suspended my subway operations instead, to concentrate on in-house mailings. Another one of many tactical mistakes I made. Plus, I expected the white voters in this district, to come out in droves in response to the cerebral mailing plan of my campaign: again I was wrong. The overall turnout in this primary was one of the lowest in history (around 11%). And some of my mail arrived days after the primary. The plan was good but the execution wasn’t/lol. I dropped three different pieces in the last week alone: too much; too little; too late. Plus, my campaign had personnel troubles from day one. I will be the first to admit that I made many mistakes, after being away for nearly a decade. The last time I ran was in the year 2000. I intend to run again next year. I am pumped. I am energized. Maybe I should do a congressional run. What do you think?

Overall, many residents told me that I was much superior in the debates they saw; but too many voters stayed home. They also lauded my comprehensive platform and my very informative website, but they weren’t quite motivated enough to come out and vote. I knew I had to win over the majority of the white voters in order to offset Mathieu Eugene’s Haitian-American voting base: a bloc which was highly motivated and had demonstrated this twice in the last 2 years. But I suspected that many whites (about a quarter of the current population) saw this as an inter-island squabble and were turned-off; ostensibly they tuned-out (and the voting patterns reflect this).

Up to the day before the election, I expected to win this race, but the money I banked on never came by Western Union; I should have gone to Midas instead. LOL.

On Election Day I saw the writing on the wall. There was a steady stream of Haitian-Americans coming to the polls all throughout the day. Many refused to take a palm card from the poll-workers of either Tulloch or myself. The Haitian-American underground media was working overtime to increase the turnout. Around 5:00 pm. Eugene told me that his base was coming out. He was pumped up and supremely confident. He walked with an entourage about ten deep. LOL. He watches HBO folks. He is an amiable guy. I think I can work with him for the benefit of this community.

Eugene was born in Haiti, Tulloch was born in Jamaica, and I came from Trinidad and Tobago. My two opponents played up to their respective ethnic/nationalistic bases: I didn’t (well, not one-fifth as much as I could have). Throughout this race, the battle was for the white vote: otherwise Eugene was a sure winner. I knew this, and I am certain that Tulloch and his peeps knew it too. So going through some of the white areas during the petition effort -only to find resistance based on doubts as to my residency- was surely an epic of things to come later: and it was. From jump-street, Tulloch and his people dogged both Eugene and myself on the residency issue; it didn’t work with the incumbent because his base didn’t give a damn about it. With me, it wrongfully raised many doubts as to my commitment to the community, despite my many many years of community service and political activism here.

Ask Jumanee Williams who gave him his first opportunity as a housing activist? That was me. I hired him when he was fresh out of college. I was the Executive vice-president of a CBO based on Nostrand Avenue, when he came looking for work. I later promoted him to Executive Director, even when many on the Board of Directors said he was too young for the job. I saw the kid’s potential. I recognized his talent and skills. He later left for a position on Flatbush Development Corp. The rest is history. Last Tuesday he unseated the incumbent council member Dr. Kendall Stewart in the 45th district. He will be in the city council come January 2010.

Check out the many political organizations that I have worked with in this area. Check out the many civic organizations too. Check out the many tenants groups I worked with; and the many block associations I helped form; and the many merchants organizations I aided; and the many political initiatives that I headed up; and the many political campaigns that I have been involved with in this area; and the many school board issues in #17, #18 and #22 in which I was involved; and the many political figures I worked with; and the many youth groups; and the many young entrepreneurs we developed; and so on; and so on; and so on.

Look; public service, community involvement and political activism require a lot of time, energy, money, sacrifice and struggle. Leithland Rickie Tulloch knew all this. He knew that my activism in this area goes back to 1973, but he deliberately chose to misrepresent the facts all through the community. That was desperation at its zenith. That’s why I refused to shake his hand at any of the three debates in which I attended. Unless he publicly apologizes to me I will never do it again. I could use a popular epithet to describe him, but my dead mother would rise up and wash out my mouth with soap: so I will pass (this time).

Stay tuned-in; I am not finished with this.