Jumaane Williams supporters, including his deputy chief of staff, Farah Louis, far left with necklace, Flatbush Assemblymember Rodneyse Bichotte,
center, and Fort Greene Councilmember Laurie Cumbo, far right, celebrated his win. Photo by Steve Solomonson
Caribbean L BQ ife, March 1–7, 2019 25
Just over 400,000 New Yorkers
turned out for the special election, a
low but not unexpected fi gure.
The New York-born Williams, who
earned a bachelor’s and master’s degree
from Brooklyn College, is the
son of two Grenadians, his late father
Greg and his mother Patricia, both of
whom came to the city from St. Andrew.
Patricia Williams was with her
son on the night of his victory at a celebration
in an East Flatbush café.
Williams, who was fi rst elected to
the Council in 2009 and has become
a major voice on key progressive issues
ranging from police reform to
housing rights, painted himself as an
activist who fi ts the role of public advocate
because of his extensive history
of standing up for marginalized
groups. He has often pointed to his
body of work in the Council, where,
among many other laws, he led on legislation
protecting people from discrimination
against the NYPD and
banning employers from asking about
the criminal record of applicants before
offering a job. He also has been
arrested on numerous occasions for
civil disobedience when protesting
cases of social injustice.
In deeply personal and emotional
remarks claiming victory, Williams
said, “We have to keep going up the
hill for equity, we have to keep going
up the hill for justice, we have to keep
going up the hill for all of us.”
While delivering his victory
speech, Williams teared up as he addressed
his past mental health struggles
and the challenge of overcoming
stereotypes facing young black men,
calling his win a success despite those
obstacles.
“I’ve been in therapy for the past
three years. I want to say that publicly,
I want to say that to black men
who are listening,” he said. “I know
there’s a young black boy somewhere
who’s young, cries himself to sleep
sometimes — nobody knows what he’s
going through, and this world tells
you that you have to hide it and can’t
talk about it. But I’ve got something
to say to that young man: his name is
Jumaane Williams and I’m the public
advocate for New York City.”
Williams also addressed his new
offi ce’s important role in holding city
leaders accountable, and rebuked legislation
to abolish the position that
his Midwood Council colleague Kalman
Yeger introduced last year.
“The public advocate — the people’s
advocate — is a role that I am incredibly
excited to fi ll, and one that is crucial
to our city,” Williams said. “I know
that there are some who have sought to
get rid of it — and now, I’m sure there
are powerful people who want it gone
even more. But we aren’t going anywhere.
Instead, we’re going to hold the
powerful accountable. The mayor, the
police commissioner, the governor, the
big-money interests — we are watching,
and we will speak out.”
Williams will soon take over for
Acting Public Advocate and current
City Council Speaker Corey Johnson,
but he has a relatively short honeymoon
to savor his victory before
quickly getting to work during a short
term that will expire on December 31.
There will be another public advocate
race — a primary competition in June
and a general election in November —
and the winner then will serve out the
remainder of James’ original second
term, which runs through 2021.
The 42-year-old entered the race after
garnering more than 669,000 votes
in this past September’s Democratic
primary in an unsuccessful bid for
lieutenant governor. He performed
particularly well in Manhattan and
Brooklyn, where he received more
than 285,000 votes to win those boroughs
in his battle against incumbent
Lieutenant Governor Kathy Hochul.
Williams’ strength across the city
in that race gave him increased name
recognition heading into the public
advocate competition, where he
quickly picked up where he left off by
piling up endorsements, far outpacing
his opponents.
He faced competition from 16
other candidates on the ballot, including
Bronx Assemblymember Michael
Blake, who is vice chair of the
Democratic National Committee and
fi nished fourth. Blake showed serious
fundraising prowess by hauling
in more than $359,000 in contributions
before counting the $838,000 in
matching taxpayer funds doled out by
the city’s Campaign Finance Board.
Regardless of fundraising ability
or citywide offi ce experience, those
candidates were still playing catch-up
against Williams and opted to target
him on issues he had trouble with
in the past, most notably marriage
equality and abortion rights. More recently,
he was hit by attacks from an
outside candidate in Nomiki Konst,
an investigative journalist with The
Young Turks, who stood with Mark-
Viverito on Monday to demand transparency
about a newly-revealed 2009
incident when Williams was arrested
after an argument with his then-girlfriend.
The charges were dropped and
the case was sealed, which led Williams’
Brooklyn colleague Laurie
Cumbo to demand answers about how
those sealed law enforcement records
came to light.
In the fi rst of two televised debates,
Williams failed to answer inquiries
from Blake and Mark-Viverito about
his history of opposing same-sex marriage
— even as he emphasized his
support today for a woman’s right
to choose — raising more questions
about his handling of issues he says
have been long settled.
Williams, however, now boasts a
very clear pro-gay platform, as evidenced
by the “LGBTQ” section on
his campaign’s “On The Issues” page,
as well as his strong push in video advertisements
and mailings to market
his LGBTQ-friendly work.
How Williams plans to advance
the issues he has long championed
in his new position is not immediately
clear, but he could run into challenges
in his quest to move the needle
on a number of issues. The role of public
advocate is viewed as signifi cant
because the offi ceholder is second in
line to the mayor, can propose legislation,
and serves as a voice for the people
against the mayor and other powerful
fi gures in government. But it is
also very limited: The offi ce’s budget
is just $3.5 million, the public advocate
cannot vote on legislation, and
there is little other power beyond the
bully pulpit.
It’s Jumaane!
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