Mayor Parker - Emotional words on a tough day
By Chris Satullo and Eileen Kenna
Around 5:30 p.m. on Wednesday, March 6, Philadelphia Mayor Cherelle Parker faced a choice.
She'd just finished speaking to the media at the scene of a horrific mass shooting of students at a bus stop in the Burholme neighborhood of Northeast Philadelphia. Eight Northeast High students had been wounded by a hail of bullets from a passing car, several seriously. This, on the heels of several other shootings of young people around the city over the previous few days.
Next on Parker's schedule was an invitation to speak to an oddly named group of local civic leaders. The mayor was exhausted, heart-broken, angry. Her staff raised the idea of just cancelling and heading home so she could hug her own son.
Parker decided, no. She'd go. She'd honor the commitment to the Sunday Breakfast Club. More than 100 people connected to a host of important organizations were waiting for to hear from her in the Fitler Club ballroom.
She arrived just after 6:30, about 15 minutes late. She emerged into a rainy night from the black SUV her detail uses to shepherd her around the city she'd taken on the challenge of leading. Her gait was a little unsteady on the wet pavement; her demeanor was grim and shaken.
In the lobby outside the ballroom, her friend and former fellow Harrisburg lawmaker Steve McCarter, a club member, waited to give her a hug and a few murmured words of support. That helped. The mayor sighed deeply, straightened her posture and joined arms with the police officer who was leading her detail that night; he walked her into the ballroom as the attendees rose to applaud.
Settling into a chair on the stage next to interviewer Chris Satullo, Parker opened, a slight tremor in her voice, by explaining why she'd decided to come:
"People talk about my becoming the 100th mayor of our city, the first woman mayor of our city in 341 years. It sounds so nice, befitting this great nation of ours. But tonight, it doesn’t mean a damn thing. Not after the scene we just left at Five Points, Cottman and Rising Sun avenues. Eights youths shot, making it 11 in just two days.
"We were prepared to call Chris and say, 'She’s not coming.' We were going to do that. But then I thought It would be a missed opportunity to talk to some of the most important stakeholders in our region about these things you constantly hear me talk about, like a broken record: Safe, clean, green, access to opportunity for all.
"This isn't just slogan, not like 'defund the police.' It's what it is essential if we want to control, to the best of our ability, every factor that leads to what we saw unfolding today. ...
"We have to do that. Just imagine having to go to school up there tomorrow. Imagine being the parent getting the telephone call some did this afternoon: He or she is in the hospital right now … That’s the reality of what we are dealing with today. And I am tired of dealing with it."
Parker acknowledged that she got elected on a platform of empowering police to use every constitutional tool at their disposal to prevent crime and catch wrong-doers. She also granted that her tough rhetoric about accepting no excuse for criminal behavior has led some to say she lacks compassion:
"People have said that because, what I’ve said, it's a little different about the opioid crisis, public safety, about using every legal tool in the toolbox, that community policing is not a bad thing.
"I'm also zero tolerance for any misuse or abuse of authority by law enforcement. But I will stand up and publicly affirm and support the men and women who go to work every day, put that uniform on and put their lives on the line to protect us. There’s nothing you can do to stop me saying that out loud. You can’t guilt me or shame me into thinking that’s a bad thing. Many people don’t like that sentiment."
Growing up poor, Parker said, is no excuse for turning violent.
“There is no amount of poverty, no amount of anything that anyone is going through individually that gives you permission to do what we’ve been seeing happening in our city.
"I know what poverty is. I grew up in poverty and I'm grateful that the people around me took every excuse away from me about why I couldn’t make it. No perfect family at home, another single teenage mother, being raised by grandparents, public schools."
But, Parker said, she was offered invaluable opportunities - sport, clubs, internships - and seized each one at the urging of adults who cared about her.
"That’s the example that explains why I left the Northeast to come here," she said, recounting how the chances that various programs and mentors offered her turned her into a mayor, rather than someone trapped in cycles of poverty, violence and depression. “Get used to hearing your mayor say what I'm about to say: I need you. ... You've got to be ambassadors to help me. I’m only me; I’m not superwoman; I can’t do it all by myself. We need everybody in this room to help."
Achieving safe, clean and green is not within the power of city government by itself either, she said. It will take, she predicted, all levels of government, and greater engagement than previously seen from local businesses, institutions and nonprofits:
"That's where you come in: All of you work with organizations that do good work. But how many of you are working in a clearly defined, strategic way with local, state and federal government?"
Parker said she would not be shy about asking the private sector to help her execute her agenda, not only through promotional messages or volunteering, but also with cold hard cash, mounds of it.
"People have said: You’re kind of weird, what makes you think that’s government’s role?" she said, offering her first smile of the evening. "Maybe I am weird, but I’ve got this crazy notion that the mayor of the sixth largest city in the nation should use her convening power to bring together business leaders and federal, state and local government to work together in a strategic way to drive dollars to where we can measure outcomes. I’m not talking about throwing dollars into a black hole."
Parker ended up staying on the dais far longer than planned, enabling her to touch on multiple topics and to enjoy a few lighter moments:
On growing up Baptist:
"People ask: What is it with this mayor, how she talks about herself in the third person sometimes? People want there to be some heavy psychological explanation. But it's simple: I'm Black and I'm Baptist, and that’s what Black Baptist people do."
On Philly getting ready to host America's 250th birthday party two years from now:
"I'm not being biased here but I need to say to this the ladies in particular: Aside from my house and my closet, I need structure and organization. My house and my closet are organized chaos. Ladies, you know what I'm saying.
"But this idea that we have eight different groups organizing it. Eight! I'm not exaggerating … Too many. We’ve got to unify and put it all together for our 250th. This is one community. We need one plan."
On dueling plans for where the Sixers should play basketball:
"Contrary to what many think, I never publicly affirmed support for the Sixers stadium to go on Market East. My statement was: The sixth-biggest city in the nation doesn't have the luxury to give a knee-jerk 'no 'reaction to a potential revenue-generating project.
"I've met with Comcast and met with the Sixers. We have to judge each plan on their own merits. Our team - our brains at PIDC, our finance team - they are developing a rubric for me, measuring what the public benefits are for all those deals. When I'm able to measure those benefits and compare, then I will reach a decision."
On Philadelphia schools superintendent Tony Watlington:
"I’m a super huge fan. I'm feeling hopeful with [Gov.] Josh Shapiro and Tony Watlington as my partners on this. Dr. Watlington, he thinks outside the box."