Story #2—Winners and Losers: the San Diego Edition

Introduction

Stories #1 and #2 are connected by a common thread: the selective system that elevates, protects, and rewards San Diego's compliant players while throwing principled nonconformers to the wolves...

Story #1 revisited the 1984 San Ysidro massacre.  The loss and horror of that event are incalculable.  Yet those who were  responsible--directly (the shooter) or indirectly (certain city officials)--either cannot (the shooter is dead) or will never (the code of silence) answer for the depth of harm inflicted on the victims.  

Not many people think about this story anymore.


Story #2 revisits the Bob Filner story.  It's a third-rate operetta compared to the San Ysidro tragedy.   But sex sells and the Filner story has morphed into a national hit.  The secret of its success is that can serve a wide audience across the political spectrum—left, right, and center.  Like the proverbial gift, it keeps on giving.  

Given its popularity, the time seems right for an updated review of this story.  It needs a thorough airing, even though the dust it raises may irritate some readers.  It’s a small price to pay when good government, transparency, and--above all--accountability are the objectives.

Part I: The Official Story

Chapter 1

The latest resurrection of the Filner story was aimed at Senator Kamala Harris, a presidential candidate from California.  It's an attempt to discredit her for her 2013 failure to throw the accused mayor Bob Filner into prison when she was state Attorney General.  It’s an ironic twist, since Senator Harris had opportunistically jumped the gun and eagerly mounted the anti-Filner bandwagon, even though she had never laid eyes on the man or exchanged a single word with him.  

Damned if you do and damned if you don’t....
  

But Harris shouldn’t take the attack personally.  The Filter trope is an equal opportunity weapon across many battle arenas.   Check out how it's used against Nancy Pelosi and her "perv problem."  Or against gay rights activists and the Sex-Creep Club.  Or by trendy authors to advance their sociopath theories.  Or by #MeToo victims as grist for a movie plot or memoir.  

And see for yourself how effective the Filner trope is here at home with men like: 

* Labor Council’s Mickey Kasparian 

* County Supervisor Dave Roberts 

* Former councilmember Carl DeMaio

* School Board trustee Kevin Beiser, and recently

* Six male members of the District Attorney's office

Chapter 2

The official storyline goes something like this: Bob Filner, a transplant from the East Coast, spent a couple of decades at SDSU as a professor of history, having made his way to San Diego many years earlier.  He was elected to the board of the San Diego Unified School District.  

In 1987 he was elected and re-elected as a San Diego city council member.  In 1992 Filner won a seat in the United States Congress to represent the San Diego/Imperial County region adjacent to the Mexican border, one of the country's most ethnically diverse districts.

The official story continues: The liberal Democrat Bob Filner was among four main candidates running in the 2012 primary election for San Diego mayor.  The others were conservative Republican Carl DeMaio, moderate Republican Bonnie Dumanis, and Republican (almost-but-not-yet Independent) Nathan Fletcher.

Filner and DeMaio advanced to the November election.  Filner was elected mayor by a margin of 52.5% to 47.5%.  He was the first Democratic mayor to hold office since Maureen O'Connor.  (The city had elected a Democratic mayor in 1899, 1905, 1911, 1913, 1915, 1955, 1963, and 1985.)

Chapter 3

The official story goes on: Within weeks in office, what started as unofficial complaints from three women against the mayor rapidly snowballed into claims from over a dozen women of crude come-ons, intimidating sexual comments, and imprisoning headlocks. 

The official story takes a pivotal turn with an account of the

July 11, 2013 afternoon press conference, organized by three former supporters of the newly-elected mayor, to call for Filner’s immediate resignation.  Two accusers (Donna Frye and Marco Gonzalez) denounced the mayor for sexual abuses.  The third (Cory Briggs) denounced him with charges of corruption.

Chapter 4
The official story tells us that City Attorney Jan Goldsmith boasted about his decisive role in getting rid of the mayor.  

When Filner took office, Goldsmith hired private detectives to trail him and sniff out improprieties.  He deceived Filner with false information and threats of financial ruin, claiming that the city was not obligated to pay for his legal defense.  He had the locks changed to the mayor's office. Did he bug Filner’s office, as some staff members claimed?   

Chapter 5

The story progresses with a steady stream of graphic accounts of Filner's crude behavior. The San Diego County Sheriff’s Office launched a hotline so women could register sexual harassment allegations against the mayor.  

The local public news station assembled a phalanx of aggrieved women for explicit interviews.  The services of national celebrity lawyer Gloria Allred were employed.  A news agency on the political right ran this catchy headline: Mayor Filner Grabbed Breasts, A$$, "Shoved Tongue Down Her Throat."

Chapter 6

The official story relates that, effective August 30, 2013, Filner resigned.  On cue, city council president Todd Gloria took over the coveted mayor’s suite to assume the role of acting mayor.  Gloria retained a few of Filner's staffers (e.g., Irene McCormack--the first woman to file a sexual harassment lawsuit), terminated others, and set about reversing a slew of Filner’s executive decisions and policies. 

The official storyline climaxes a few months later when councilmember Kevin Faulconer (formerly a Democrat who turned Republican as an undergraduate at SDSU—any chance he sat in on one of Filner’s history classes??) was elected as San Diego’s new mayor.

Part II: The Unofficial Story

Chapter 7

The unofficial storyline of the rise and fall of Bob Filner reads like plagiarized lift from the movie Chinatown.

By recruiting Bob Filner to run for mayor in 2012, San Diego's Democratic establishment was able to kill two birds with one stone:  

1. Filner was a safe bet to defeat Carl DeMaio, the candidate Democrats (as well as the city's moderate Republicans) were most worried about; and 
2. A mayoral win by Filner would initiate a longed-for game of political dominoes.  South Bay politics would be secured as a Latino stronghold when Filner’s seat in the US Congress was freed up for Juan Vargas.  Then Vargas’s State Senate seat would become available for Ben Hueso.  Then Hueso’s State Assembly seat would fall into the lap of Lorena Gonzalez.  

And so it came to pass.

Chapter 8
The unofficial story is a reminder that plenty of people wanted Filner out--ASAP.  Too progressive and brash for Democratic operatives and too threatening for San Diego's Republicans and other business elites, Filner never stood a chance.

Once DeMaio was defeated and the Vargas/Hueso/Gonzalez deal was duly consummated, Filner's usefulness was gone.  Before long, a Recall Filner website was set up and ready to go.   He was a dead man walking.    

Filner had crossed swords with too many of the city's heavyweights.  For starters: the San Diego Chargers; downtown hoteliers; Lorena Gonzalez; Irwin Jacobs (in a harakiri moment, Filner dissed him in public); Todd Gloria; City Attorney Jan Goldsmith; Carl DeMaio; U-T's Doug Manchester...

The story says that interim mayor Todd Gloria played a key role in the Filner ouster, working hand-in-glove with City Attorney Jan Goldsmith.  Other schemers included Tom Story of Sunroad Enterprises, who hatched a plot with then-councilmember Faulconer to initiate bogus kickback accusations against him.  Yelling corruption! Cory Briggs hurled this fictitious bombshell at mayor Filner.
  

Chapter 9

The story plods on: Filner made himself an easy target.

While the personal pursuits of numerous city officials and bigwigs have always been discreetly tolerated, Filner’s pursuit of female company was fair game for exploitation.  The gentleman’s agreement in San Diego was selective.  Its rules would never apply to him.

The unofficial story does not minimize Filner's role in his brutal ouster.  He kidded around too much.  He flirted incessantly.  He lost his temper and berated city personnel.  He was demanding and insensitive to his office staff.  He was bad at delegating authority.  He ignored the warnings of friends and allies.  For an unusually smart man, Filner could be socially inept, retarded, and obtuse.

It wouldn't matter that he was getting good things done for his constituents; that he was a reformer and advocate for the environment, workers, neighborhoods, and cross-border cooperation; that he was making sound decisions on behalf of the public.  His record could not save him.

Chapter 10

The unofficial story gets a boost when foes came up with a surefire formula to get rid of Filner: a massive dose of unrelenting, no holds barred, prurient accusations.  The more bizarre, the more implausible the better.  As predicted, it proved as effective as a sledgehammer.

The unofficial story takes note that Nathan Fletcher—cognizant of the plan and fully confident that the mayor's seat was soon be vacated and could be his--switched his party affiliation for a second time in one year to prepare for another run for mayor, this time as a Democrat.  His political conversion was announced in May, 2013, three months before Filner stepped down.  

Denouement

Chapter 11

The unofficial story continues as Assemblymember Lorena Gonzalez, impatiently chafing at the bit,  organized a private meeting of a dozen Democratic politicians to speed up the process of a) getting rid of Filner and b) choosing his successor.

By July, a letter was circulated from a generous Democratic fundraiser (Christine Forester) that read "...we would like to be prepared to immediately call for Nathan Fletcher to run for the office ... to have a letter ready to send to Nathan... (It) would allow him to say that he has received a letter from a bi-partisan group of highly respected leaders in the community (including his current employer QUALCOMM) calling on him to declare as a candidate.” 

Filner resigned a month later.  

But it didn’t work out as planned for Fletcher (much less for the Democrats).  He came in third in the subsequent mayoral primary, behind Democrat David Alvarez.  Then Alvarez lost in the November election to Republican Kevin Faulconer.  And that is how San Diego got from there to here. 

Epilogue

Such is the story of a duly-elected mayor who was taken out—NOT because he was a monster, NOT because he was a fake, NOT because he failed to act in good faith on behalf of his constituents—but because he was not (and would never be) a member of San Diego’s selective gentleman’s club.  

Filner is gone but the game goes on.  With Nathan Fletcher ensconced as a County Supervisor, the city's anointed mayoral contender is now Todd Gloria.  He’s in the bag as San Diego’s latest go-along guy and dependable team player.

But let's step away from politics for a moment and do some soul-searching:

• Once, we tarred and feathered a mayor for his reprehensible, unacceptable, and obnoxious behavior toward a number of women. 
• Once, we elected and rewarded a mayor whose incompetence and hubris may well have contributed to the preventable deaths of many innocent San Diegans in San Ysidro. 
• Once, we elected and reelected a mayor whose incompetence and neglect may have precipitated the deaths of many homeless people on the streets of San Diego. 

The question is: why weren’t they ALL run out of town?

Winners and losers: the San Diego edition--Story #1

We know how it’s played at the Del Mar racetrack.  There are winners.  There are losers.  It’s a brutal ordeal for the horses but there's a hefty payoff in the offing for a certain percentage of track regulars. 

City politics has a lot in common with horse racing.   But while it takes years of selective breeding and training to produce a winning horse, a winning candidate can be created through selective inbreeding, deft maneuvering, and discrete fingers on the scale.  

To illustrate what this means in real time, consider the jarring juxtaposition of two seemingly unrelated stories that appeared this month in the news--practically on the same day.  Read them separately and you get a hint of the embedded gentleman’s agreement that controls San Diego civic life. 

View them side by side and you begin to understand that to reform the flimflam politics and vacuous leadership that permeate daily life in America’s Finest City, we need to be more blunt about naming the embedded fixers and paying closer attention to their methods.

Today's story revisits the 1984 San Ysidro massacre.  Tomorrow's story revisits the Bob Filner trauma.

Story #1: San Ysidro Remembers the 35^th Anniversary of the McDonald’s Massacre 

Yes, many of us remember that horrific day on July 18, 1984 when a single gunman had the luxury of spending one hour and 17 minutes in a shooting spree that killed 21 people (adults, teenagers, children, and an 8-month old baby) and wounded 17 others before he, himself, was killed by a San Diego Police sniper with a single shot to the chest.

There was a police review.  But many questions about the way the San Diego Police responded to this emergency went unanswered.  The overriding question--how come it took 77 minutes before a SWAT team sharpshooter was given permission to do his job?—managed to slip through the cracks.  

Who was the featured player in the San Ysidro story (second only to the psychopathic gunman)?  It was San Diego’s former mayor Jerry Sanders.

The official storyline goes something like this: on a sunny Sunday afternoon, while scores of San Ysidro residents were being terrorized by a lone and vicious gunman, the Commander of the San Diego SWAT team— Police Lieutenant Jerry Sanders----was relaxing over a beer (or two or three) at the beach in Mission Bay.  It was the end of a daylong Command Staff retreat.  The deputy police chief (Norm Stamper) approached Sanders to inform him about what was happening in San Ysidro.

The official story says that while Lieut. Sanders was enroute to San Ysidro and stuck in heavy rush hour traffic, he made the sober decision to deny permission to the police snipers--who were poised for action on the scene--to shoot the killer who was shooting customers trapped in McDonald's. 

The official story says that not until he arrived at the scene more than an agonizing hour after the shooting started did Sanders personally give the green light for his SWAT sniper to shoot and put an end to the horrific mass killing.  

The official story concludes with Sanders taking a road trip around the country to share with others his wisdom about this ordeal.  Summing up the lessons to be learned from this violent tragedy, Sanders offered his four keys to good leadership: 

1. set the tone with a (cool, collected) demeanor
2. give calm and direct orders
3. take care of your team
4. always rely on your people

➜➜➜➜A semi-official film documentary of the San Ysidro ordeal was created by Charlie Minn.  It's called  “77 Minutes.”   Watch this video.  It's well worth your time and attention.⬅⬅⬅⬅

The unofficial storyline goes something like this: Lieut. Sanders was most likely inebriated at the time of the shootings.  He was not carrying his beeper and was therefore unreachable at the onset of this emergency.  Twenty-five minutes of murderous activity and terror elapsed before the deputy police chief was able to locate him to give him the news.  

The unofficial story reports that SWAT team members were in attendance at the Command Staff retreat on Mission Bay.  They were unable to deploy their armored vehicle because it required two keys to operate it and, somehow, the backup key had been "misplaced."  

The story goes on to say that Lieut. Sanders scurried home to retrieve the key, don his uniform, and finally get on the road.   

The story also relates that—still enroute to San Ysidro--Lieut. Sanders reversed the order of a field commander already at the scene to let sharpshooters take down the murderous shooter.  It says that Lieut. Sanders chose to deny permission  to his field commander and wait until he, himself, could make his entrance at the scene and personally give the order. 

The official story informs us that--despite his impaired and supremely questionable judgment, and despite 13 subsequent refusals by the Police Department to promote him--Jerry Sanders was subsequently hand-picked in 1993 by city manager Jack McGrory (and confirmed by Mayor Susan Golding and the City Council) to be the city’s new Police Chief.

The story tells us that by 1999 Jerry Sanders was appointed President and CEO of the United Way.  In 2002 he was appointed Chairman of the Board of the Red Cross.  By 2005 he moved into the mayor’s seat.  After terming out as mayor he was awarded the position of President and CEO of the SD Regional Chamber of Commerce, a post he still holds.  

It’s a quintessential San Diego story of how a less-than-ordinary, establishment-protected good old boy--a regular guy who knows how to set the tone and take good care of his team--gets passed off as a thoroughbred and wrapped in cotton batting to keep him cozy and secure in his waning years.  

But don’t be lulled into thinking that the protected status of Jerry Sanders is a one-of-a-kind shaggy dog story.  

There’s much to be written about how other anointed, favored, protected, less-than-ordinary good old boys make it big in San Diego.  Just take a clear-eyed look at current mayor Kevin Faulconer--the Sanders heir and protege.  

And try not to be too starry-eyed about another anointed, protected, favored guy currently chomping at the bit--mayoral hopeful Todd Gloria.  He's a different type of pony, maybe, but he's been brought to you the same old San Diego way, via: selective inbreeding, deft maneuvering, and discrete fingers on the scale.

The official San Ysidro story has no bright ending.  All these years later and there've been no satisfactory or substantive changes to citizen oversight of Police practices and performance.  It's still under discussion at City Hall. 

(see Story #2, next...)

Five easy questions

Question #1: Ever wonder what an auditor does?

I was introduced to the term auditor at an early age. “If anyone asks you what your father does for a living,” my mother instructed, “just say he’s an auditor.”  Many years would pass before I figured out that auditor was more than a code word for daddies who ran numbers and booked bets.  

Auditors could also be professionals in public and private institutions who assessed financial documents and business transactions for accuracy and legal compliance.   Numbers runners, yes, but respectable.

A decade ago, Eduardo Luna was hired as San Diego’s City Auditor. He had the training, experience, and commitment to  public service to withstand political pressure while running the office of City Auditor “to advance open and accountable government through accurate, independent, and objective audits and investigations that seek to improve the economy, efficiency, and effectiveness of San Diego City government.” 

Eduardo Luna’s prescribed ten-year term in office recently expired.  But before he moved on I got a first hand look at how an independent, ethical public auditor pursues the job of exposing fraud, waste, and malfeasance within city government.  

This summer, a new City Auditor will be appointed.  Under City Charter provisions the mayor selects the City Auditor for a ten-year term, subject to City Council approval.

Question #2: Who remembers the Kroll Report?

Once upon a time our city was in such deep financial and ethical trouble we were branded Enron-by-the-Sea.

Back then, former mayor Susan Golding--deftly assisted by former city manager Jack McGrory and Golding’s chief of staff Kris Michell (currently recycled as San Diego's chief operating officer under mayor Kevin Faulconer)--had managed to suck the city coffers dry while hosting the 1996 Republican National Convention.  

With loyal help from then-city auditor Ed Ryan, officials engaged in cooking the books and padding the budget through disastrous agreements with municipal union leaders to underfund the city’s pension system while simultaneously amping up pension benefits.  With nary a peep from the city auditor, San Diego's future was put up as collateral.  

The enormity of ongoing financial mismanagement and falsified financial statements and disclosures eventually hit the fan.  By 2004 investigations were initiated by the Securities and Exchange Commission, US Attorney’s Office, and San Diego District Attorney.  

Finally, the City Council got on the ball and retained Kroll, Inc., a governmental risk management firm, to conduct an independent investigation. 

The resultant 400-page, $20 million Kroll Report excoriated San Diego politicians and upper management for financial dishonesty, securities fraud, gross lack of accountability, egregious cover-ups, non-transparency, obfuscation, and denial of fiscal reality.

According to the San Diego Business Journal: "dozens of local officials and municipal employees put their own welfare ahead of the taxpayer for close to a decade, then tried to keep the lid on their wrongdoing…the evidence demonstrates not mere negligence, but deliberate disregard for the law, disregard for fiduciary responsibility and disregard for the financial welfare of the city's residents over an extended period of time…"  

The newspaper editorial ruefully added that "we here in America's Finest City just shrug our shoulders and mumble that it's business as usual." Of course, it takes coordinated teamwork to maintain business as usual.

Question #3: Anyone here look familiar?

The Kroll Report called out many city officials for being “negligent in the fulfillment of their duties” and for “recklessly or intentionally allowing the city to issue false reports regarding its true fiscal health,” including:

• Previous councilmember Ralph Inzunza (now writing his 2^nd semi-autobiographical novel)
• Previous councilmember George Stevens (died in 2006)
• Previous councilmember Byron Wear (now a land use/transportation consultant)
• Then-sitting mayor Dick Murphy (now retired. “You can delegate authority, but you can’t delegate responsibility,” he once declared)
• Previous councilmember Scott Peters (now US Congressman)
• Previous councilmember Toni Atkins (now California State Senator)
• Previous councilmember Jim Madaffer (now public policy consultant and SD County Water Authority Board chairman)
• Previous councilmember Brian Maienschein (now California State Assemblyman and latest SD convert from Republican to Democrat) 
• Past city manager Mike Uberuaga (now ??) 
• Past city manager Jack McGrory (now CEO real estate/investment LLC and California State University Board of Trustees)
• Past city attorney Casey Gwinn (now CEO San Diego County YWCA, President National Family Justice Center Alliance)
• Previous city auditor/controller Ed Ryan (now??) 
• And previous councilmember Donna Frye—but note that she was the sole official in the entire bunch to have publicly protested and decried city malfeasance (now president emerita of CalAware)
•  Also named were a former deputy city manager, city treasurer, assistant auditor, retirement administrator, utilities finance administrator, wastewater deputy director, deputy city attorney, and assistant city attorney 

Question #4: Things have changed since the bad old days, haven’t they?  

In 2007 the city was halfway through a 5-year trial period of our switch to a “strong-mayor” form of government, a magic potion sold to San Diego voters guaranteeing political transparency, crystal-clear government accountability, and knowing precisely where the buck stops in city government. 

With mayor Jerry Sanders occupying the catbird seat a Charter Review Committee was convened to tie up loose ends about substantive issues, like: 

...when was the right time to add a 9^th city council district? 
...how many council votes should be required to override the mayor’s veto?
...was it a good idea for the city’s chief operating officer to be a mayoral (i.e., political) appointee? 
...should the city auditor be elected by the voters (to maximize workplace independence) rather than appointed by the mayor (the person in charge of the departments the city auditor would investigate)? 

The committee resolved these questions, but not necessarily wisely:

...Our city council now hosts a 9-member array of colorful personalities and political persuasion.  
...Despite a Democratic super-majority, council overrides of mayoral vetoes remain rare.  
...The city's COO, appointed and answerable to the mayor, is currently a well-oiled, longtime political insider.  

 ...As for the city auditor—despite the pretense of an expensive national search for the most talented candidate to fill the vacancy, the mayor selected a team-playing San Diego insider, well-versed in the don’t-upset-the-applecart rules of the old guard game. 

In other words, our first and only independent city auditor steps out the door, only to be replaced by a throwback to the bad old days of yesteryear.

Question #5: Now what?

Kevin Falconer will be out of office soon enough.  But it's a grave mistake to assume that the private interests controlling this mayor will walk away when he's gone.  Mayoral candidate Todd Gloria is already in the bag.  Candidate Barbara Bry has yet to soar on her fledgling independent wings.  

One thing's for sure: installing a proxy city auditor means controlling the city’s system of checks and balances for the next ten years. 

This isn't a political party issue.  This isn't a conservative versus progressive standoff.  It’s a question of protecting the public purse and creating and maintaining honesty and integrity in city government. 

On Wednesday of this week, the city’s audit committee will meet and review Faulconer’s choice for city auditor.  Eventually, the city council will vote to confirm (or not) the mayor's hand-picked choice.  We’ll soon find out where our elected councilmembers stand on issues of good government, public integrity, and city reform. 

Duck-duck-goose: San Diego's quest for a new mayor

Let’s start with an urban tale about dreams and possibilities.  Not long ago in a city far, far away, an international gathering took place and it called itself the Fearless Cities Summit. 

And this summit brought together 700 mayors and councilmembers and active citizen groups from far-flung cities and towns around the world.  And their plan was to collaborate on creating global networks of solidarity in the cause of human rights, democracy, and the common good.   Overblown hype?

As it turns out, the “fearless cities” concept is completely down to earth.  It entails people merging their efforts to modify local government institutions and create practical programs that address the specific needs of their particular communities.  Their efforts are unified by a simple overarching goal--to improve the lives of city residents.   Who could find fault with that?

The first “fearless cities” summit took place two years ago in Barcelona—a city that had, for decades, encouraged and enjoyed a tourism and real-estate boom.  But something insidious began revealing itself.  A gradual distortion of the city’s priorities forced out local businesses, drove up rents, accelerated gentrification, and muscled out city residents.  Under the rallying cry of “Barcelona is not for sale," the city boldly embarked on a candid reassessment of the soundness of their growth model based on tourism.

The second fearless cities summit was held in New York City, the third in Warsaw.  Next up will be Brussels, where the city will present a progress report on local initiatives it created to deal with its troubled financial, housing, mobility, jobs, infrastructure, and environmental sectors. 

Sounds like a familiar set of urban troubles, doesn't it?

No, I’m not suggesting that San Diego has the desire—let alone the oomph--to join the ranks of fearless cities.   We’re far from ready to reassess our status as a tourism mecca, much less pull down our city’s “for sale” sign.  

Okay, let's admit it: San Diego is actually a fearful city, where elected officials obediently go along to get along with a well-endowed tourism industry and intimidating real estate/building/growth machine power brokers.  Even our citizen groups are easily silenced by a few token  crumbs.  

Given the usual consequences, maybe we should just cry uncle!  But no, there’s another alternative.  It’s called compromise.   

Her's what I suggest: why don't we settle for improving the biggest small issue that plagues San Diego and causes us much grief?  How about settling for the modest goal of becoming a very well-managed city? 

That’s it? A. Very. Well. Managed. City?  Think about it this way: 

• when no city official is held accountable for delivering the goods to city residents… 
• if no one takes responsibility for slipshod oversight of city workers or the work of private contractors… 
• when no one keeps tabs on how the San Diego Housing Commission spends public money…  
• if no one remembers that problem-oriented community policing, once a diamond in San Diego’s ear, was stealthily abandoned… 
• when no one answers for continual botched attempts to ameliorate the city’s homeless crisis, not even to provide adequate public toilets…
• if no one noticed that the chief of the city water department didn’t supervise his meter readers, who were overcharging water customers (that’s us) by over $2 million… 
• when no one answers the phone in the office of code compliance/enforcement, while city regulations are violated right and left…
• if no one can explain why the city throws good money after bad on real-estate deals that sit empty for years… 
• when no one turns up for over a year to change a street light bulb… 
• if no one seems to be minding the store… 
• when no one knows where the buck stops… 

The obvious conclusion? San Diego is A. Very. Poorly. Managed. City.  Is it due to the woeful performance of this mayor?  Or to our bungled transition to a strong mayor system from a city manager government (far from perfect but, in hindsight, more accountable to the public)? Or to our falsified, papered-over pension/budget fiasco?  Or?  Whatever reason, the outcome is--or ought to be--grounds for rebellion.

Now think about it this way: if the fundamental goal of fearless cities is simply to improve the lives of city residents, couldn’t even a fearful city like ours make real and immediate progress toward improving the lives of city residents by setting minimal but firm requirements for our mayor and other elected officials to deliver a well-managed city to San Diego residents?

***************************

Which brings us to Tasha Williamson, a candidate in San Diego’s 2020 race for mayor.  The San Diego City Clerk currently lists the circle of 9 candidates running for mayor. (I've already written commentaries on Todd Gloria, Barbara Bry, and Cory Briggs--who says he's a candidate but has yet to file the requisite paperwork with the city clerk.)  

Did you ever hear of the game called duck-duck-goose?  It’s where 'it' goes around a circle of players and taps each on the head, saying 'duck… duck… duck.'  Then 'it' taps an unsuspecting player on the head and calls out 'goose.'   So 'goose' has to run in circles to tag 'it' before 'it' plops down in the vacated spot left by 'goose.'   That's sort of the way San Diego's political races play out.

Tasha Williamson (TW) is on the list of players eyeing the soon-to-be-vacated spot of San Diego mayor.   One thing's for sure: in this political game she’s no duck.  Not a goose, either.  Could it be she’s more of a swan?  Is it possible for a swan with a resonant message to steal the show--at least for a while?  

Keep this in mind: swans are not outsiders.  They swim the entire pond and know the territory as well as any duck or goose.  And you better take heed of them.  They know how to hiss.  They know how to bite.

What sets TW apart from other candidates is her fearless call for changes that benefit our city’s traditionally underserved sectors.   

Almost a decade ago, TW co-founded the San Diego Compassion Project, serving members and families victimized by gang-related and other violent acts.  Her community actions prompted the Union-Tribune to place her name on their list of Voices of the Year.   She knows the city well enough to give credible voice to many subjects that are usually swept under the rug, like:
→ racial profiling and police offenses in our city...

→ the role city government should and could play in enhancing public schools in all neighborhoods...

→ concrete, humane responses to the needs of the city’s homeless, poor, addicted, and mentally ill populations...

→ resetting misdirected, unfairly apportioned, and wasteful budget priorities...

→ beneficial public reuse of public property in the city we all call home...

Tasha Williamson is in the right place at the right time to bring a fearless voice to the mayoral debate.  San Diego voters (and other candidates, as well) can learn a lot from TW's perspectives, perceptions, and experience.  It's a fact--the burden of management failures in our city falls most heavily on our chronically shortchanged communities.  And inevitably, every resident in a badly-managed city suffers the consequences. 

 Yes, a mayor's priorities and goals matter.  But expert management is indispensable if we ever want to see good intentions actually materialize.  The necessity of upgrading the mechanics of city government is part and parcel of what it will take to implement new priorities for raising the quality of life in every community and for all residents.  Now is the perfect time to tackle this unglamorous but burdensome city albatross.

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Of course, exposing and airing the issues are not the same as being able to deliver the goods.  The quest for the best  leader for a fearless future for San Diego continues.  Pass the word along: the cut-off date for mayoral candidates to get their names on the primary ballot is not until December 5, 2019.