Cory Booker

Keeping the new black candidates down

When young African-American challengers face off against their trailblazing predecessors, they often get called pawns of whitey.

  • more
    • All Share Services

Keeping the new black candidates down

Newark (N.J.) City Councilman Cory Booker got the message pretty quickly. Mayor Sharpe James wasn’t pleased that the young go-getter was going to challenge him, and told him privately that he would beat him with one simple strategy.

“I’m going to out-nigger you in the community,” James told Booker, according to a source close to Booker.

Booker wouldn’t comment about that story, and James could not be reached for his version of events. But that tactic does appear to be a key way James secured his victory, and won his fifth term as mayor last month, by a 53 to 46 percent margin.

With apparent sincerity, Booker still forces himself to remain respectful of his opponent. “I’m the beneficiary of a legacy of struggle,” says Booker, “of the people who bled the beaches of Normandy red for me, of the people who bled the Southern soil. Martin Luther King and that generation — including Sharpe James, that generation — I am the product of that generation.”

Like Booker, young African-American candidates have benefited from the trailblazing of older black leaders in very tangible ways: They’re better educated, live in a more integrated society and attract myriad white supporters. They’ve grown up in a more colorblind society. But when they challenge their graying predecessors — most glaringly, James and Rep. Earl Hilliard, D-Ala., who is fending off a serious primary challenge from Artur Davis, 34 — these very opportunities are held against them. And suddenly, their loyalty to their own race comes under fire.

Even if the tactics aren’t quite Sheriff Bull Connor-level, one can’t help but contemplate the outcry had James and his army of patronage hacks been a lighter shade of pale. On election day in Newark, for instance, federal election monitors responded to reports that Newark police officers had been trying “to influence people to vote a certain way,” according to U.S. Attorney Christopher Christie. The Web site PoliticsNJ.com reported that the police officers told voters to “do the right thing” by supporting James. When it comes to relinquishing power and fiefdoms, entrenched black incumbents are no more interested in surrendering than the bigoted white bullies whose corrupted kingdoms they helped topple decades ago.

These new candidates are not simply different politicians, they represent a larger zeitgeist shift among politically active African-Americans. According to a study published last year by the Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies, a think tank focused on American minorities, there are substantial philosophical differences between the new and old generations of black leaders. Younger black elected officials “more strongly support school vouchers, are less positive toward the federal government and more in favor of devolution, are more supportive of the partial privatization of Social Security, are more pro-business,” and are also three times less likely to consider “racism” the most important national problem.

Those qualities certainly seem to apply to Booker, who has praised school vouchers and found support across the river with the free-marketeers at the conservative Manhattan Institute. And while Davis says that he opposes school vouchers and some of the other more center-right positions Booker has flirted with, he does say that “I think certainly that I am of the New Democrat mold and Earl Hilliard is of a more conventional mold.”

Younger black candidates are more likely to be politically independent (11 percent, compared to 7 percent of older officials), and less likely to be Democrats (69 percent, compared to 77 percent). “This is the same pattern found in the black population,” Bositis writes, “where younger people (18-35 years) were more independent (28 percent) and less Democratic (62 percent) than black seniors (13 percent independent, 79 percent Democratic).”

Obviously these differences stem from different life experiences. Most older black elected officials attended segregated high schools and were twice as likely to have attended a historically black college than their younger counterparts. “The Sharpe James-Cory Booker race was almost an ideal representation of what’s going on in the generational change that I studied and wrote about,” says David Bositis, senior policy analyst at the Joint Center.

Equally instructive is the current face-off between the entrenched and ethically challenged Hilliard and Davis, a graduate of Harvard Law School who worked for the United States attorney’s office — credentials that would seem unimpeachable. A smart guy on the side of the law. But not to Hilliard.

“The only thing he’s done for black people is put them in jail,” Hilliard has said of Davis.

So a résumé that includes a law practice focused on criminal defense and workplace discrimination, a clerkship for Alabama federal Judge Myron Thompson (an African-American) and even an internship at the Southern Poverty Law Center is ignored so that Hilliard can actually criticize Davis for serving as an assistant U.S. attorney, where he prosecuted drug dealers.

(Not to mention the argument that prosecuting black drug dealers helps the black community, seemingly lost on those with Hilliard’s view of the world.)

But that was nothing compared to a live TV interview on May 30, when Hilliard charged that Davis was forced to resign as a federal prosecutor “because of a date-rape charge.”

Davis says he was “not surprised” by Hilliard’s low blow, and believes the tactic backfired this time. After Hilliard made the charge, Davis’ former boss, former U.S. Attorney Redding Pitt, now the state Democratic Party chairman, told the Birmingham News that there was “absolutely no basis” to Hilliard’s charge. Davis says his campaign’s polling numbers “showed that we surged dramatically after he said that.”

“That’s Earl Hilliard’s pattern,” Davis says. “Ten years ago Earl Hilliard put out racist fliers against a black opponent. Power is not surrendered easily.”

Hilliard would not return calls for this story.

Davis’ campaign against Hilliard in 2000 ended with Hilliard trouncing Davis, 58 percent to 34 percent. Two weeks ago, Davis had a strong enough finish in the primary, 43 percent to Hilliard’s 44 percent, that he forced a runoff and the two will face each other again at the ballot box on June 25.

In some ways, Davis seems self-conscious about taking on a member of the revered old guard. “What we have tried to do is make the case that we are not challenging the civil rights generation, or questioning the civil rights movement,” Davis says. “My candidacy and campaign are the products of the civil rights movement.”

Hilliard, of course, blazed a trail in his first election to the U.S. House, in 1992, by becoming the first African-American to represent Alabama in that office since the 19th century. “It’s no longer enough to be the first black elected since Reconstruction,” Davis says. “Now it sets a high historical burden — one that I honor but also one that I believe should obligate you to be a leader, to be one of the more effective and dynamic members of Congress.” But on the contrary, Davis says, Hilliard has been among the least effective.

To say the least. Davis has no problem rattling off a list of Hilliard’s ethics shenanigans. “He had unpaid taxes for a period of time. He was diverting county money to organizations that may or may not exist. He was diverting campaign money for personal use, and he was accused of misleading the House Ethics Committee about that. He has a wonderful penchant for getting into trouble.” And unlike his bogus rape allegation, Hilliard’s offenses have all been extensively documented.

As with Booker, the support Davis has been able to generate from “New” Democrats, many of whom are Jewish, has been used against him. At a political convention in April, someone distributed a flier about “Davis and the Jews,” not surprisingly a combination described as “No Good for the Black Belt.”

“Mr. Davis must simply understand that Jews the world over have never come to the aid of black or dark skin people because it was the right thing to do,” the flier reads. “If the current invasions, murder and abuse within the Palestinian territory sound familiar, its only because in the not to distant past we seen the apartheid do exactly the same in the black villages of South Africa with Israel’s support.”

The sheet was signed, “By friends to re-elect Earl Hillard for Congress in the seven congressional district.” Hilliard said he knew nothing about the flier, and accused Davis of generating it himself to drum up further Jewish support.

In this, James and Hilliard have more in common than do their respective opponents.

James “ran a campaign trying to appeal to people’s fears, to their lesser angels,” Booker says in an interview with Salon. “He ran a campaign trying to divide and conquer.”

Booker, raised in nearby Bergen County, educated at Stanford, Yale Law School and Oxford as a Rhodes scholar, wasn’t authentically black, James would declare. “You have to learn to be an African-American, and we don’t have time to train you,” James shouted, as if at Booker, at one rally. His campaign slogan became “The Real Deal.” The usual race-baiting hucksters, like Rev. Jesse Jackson and Rev. Al Sharpton, came out to beat their usual drums. Jackson said Booker — who worked on Jackson’s 1988 presidential campaign — has a “sheeplike appearance and wolflike characteristics.”

What wolflike characteristics? Booker was, of course, a tool — a way for whitey to get his meat hooks into Newark. James even accused Booker of taking campaign contributions from the Ku Klux Klan.

“This is about taking over Newark for power,” James told a small crowd in early May, roughly two weeks before the election. “The people who left Newark could never believe we’d still be here. So they’re sending someone in to take it over. They sent someone who acts like us, talks like us but is not us. They want Newark! They want our port! They want Newark Airport! They want our city! They want to cut down Sharpe!”

Booker tells Salon that James used “race-based appeals while we talked about real things.” Like the low rate of minority-owned businesses in Newark, or the fact that nearly 90 percent of the city’s municipal contracts go to firms outside the city. “He played to the fears; we talked about the real stuff, including issues that do have racial realities. Like the disparities in incarceration in New Jersey, which is worse than in Alabama, or Mississippi.”

Like Hilliard, James had a less-than-stellar record that Booker could exploit, including a federal corruption investigation that ended with the conviction of James’ chief of staff for embezzlement and his police director for bribery. And the fact that James, who drives a Rolls-Royce, has seen his salary go from $80,000 when he was first elected in 1986 to $248,000 today — more than any governor, not to mention the mayors of New York City, Los Angeles and Chicago. More than one-quarter of the good citizens of Newark, not incidentally, live in poverty.

Booker was elected to city council in 1998 and almost immediately James started hearing his footsteps. The reaction was, sadly, typical for any entrenched hack, regardless of color. In the summer of 1999, for instance, Booker staged a 10-day fast and sit-in at the blighted Garden Spires housing complex in Newark to call attention to the community’s problems. James had already been eyeing Booker warily, thinking him a media hog, and James’ police chief announced that he wouldn’t provide police protection for Booker and his supporters during their protest. (Eventually city officials were shamed into action and announced that they would provide the projects with a 24-hour police van and a security fence.)

In November 1999, Booker led a two-day march to draw attention to the kids of Newark and their high rates of teen pregnancy, dropoutism and infant mortality; City Hall officials initially denied Booker a permit for his march.

Then, during the May 14 mayoral primary election, city employees, including police officers, reportedly harassed Booker supporters at the polls. This after a campaign where a Booker campaign trailer was broken into and files were stolen, and one of James’ closest aides was arrested for tearing down Booker’s campaign signs.

During the campaign, it wasn’t enough for James to slam Booker for his past support of school vouchers, for the support he had gleaned from suspect boosters (at least inside Newark) like George F. Will and Jack Kemp. While whisper campaigns slimed Booker for being gay, Jewish and white, James himself accused Booker of taking money from the Ku Klux Klan and Booker insists that James called him “the faggot white boy.” (James has denied saying it.) Last August, a Booker supporter told the New Jersey Jewish News that he heard James accuse Booker of “collaborating” with Rabbi Shmuley Boteach — a friend of Booker’s from his Oxford days — “and the Jews to take over Newark.”

“I was not surprised by anything,” Booker tells Salon. “I knew what I was going up against. I knew the exact attack.”

Booker-James and Hilliard-Davis are but two races, and there are of course stark differences in addition to the similarities. Booker is more New Democrat than Davis, whose primary differences with Hilliard are over policy in the Middle East (Davis supports Israel while Hilliard is more supportive of the Arab world) and whether or not Hilliard is, well, a total disgrace. But the young guns also more likely represent races of Election Day future.

“This is a race between traditional political machines and more independent voters,” says Davis, who says that in his district the Hilliard-backing machine has “steadily withered” over the last four election cycles. “We’re entering a phase when black voters will be more independent-minded,” he says, repeating the conclusions of the Joint Center’s study.

In that sense, some previous races with similar dynamics may show both the promise and the limitations of this changing of the guard. In 1994, two entrenched and somewhat wanting black incumbent congressmen were successfully challenged by young black pols. Houston City Councilwoman Sheila Jackson Lee beat Rep. Craig Washington, D-Texas, and while Lee has proved to be more pro-business and a bit more mainstream than her predecessor, she too has become a source of some controversy, being chauffeured by a staffer from her home every morning to the Capitol one block away, having temper tantrums on flights when her various needs weren’t met, tearing through and using up staffers like a flu patient with a box of Kleenex.

That same year in Philadelphia, however, then-state Sen. Chaka Fattah, 36, felled 62-year-old Rep. Lucien “The Solution” Blackwell, D-Penn., in the primary. Blackwell was propped up by the entire city power structure — then-Mayor Ed Rendell and then-City Council president (and current mayor) John Street included. But Fattah won, becoming one of the more impressive liberal voices in Congress in the process, developing a real leadership role on education issues and demonstrating an ability to reach across the aisle and find common ground with conservative Republicans.

And in Georgia right now, Democratic Rep. Cynthia McKinney is facing a surprisingly strong contest in her primary from former state Judge Denise Majette. This is no generational challenge; both women are in their 40s. But McKinney — who seemed to insinuate that the Bush administration allowed Sept. 11 to happen so its corporate buddies could subsequently make money — belongs to a somewhat discredited old school of firebrand, and factually challenged, politics.

She’s also seemed to go out of her way to stoke her constituents’ paranoia of a Jewish conspiracy. Like Hilliard, McKinney has taken a controversial approach to the Middle East conflict, hiring as her press secretary a man who had worked for two organizations reportedly linked to the terrorist group Hamas. (He later resigned after writing a letter to a Capitol Hill newspaper calling it “disturbing” that Jewish members of Congress “sit on the House International Relations Committee despite the obvious conflict of interest that their emotional attachments to Israel cause … The Israeli occupation of all territories must end, including Congress.”) After Mayor Rudy Giuliani turned down the $10 million check from Saudi Prince Alwaleed bin Talal after the prince suggested the United States rethink its support for Israel, McKinney generously offered to take the check to fund various black causes.

The Atlanta Business Chronicle recently wrote that “Majette is seen as closer to the new type of African-American leadership that is emerging nationally — liberal but more inclined to form coalitions. Like other emerging African-American leaders, she is conscious of the emerging African-American middle class in the suburbs, long ignored by McKinney … It will be a referendum on [the incumbent] and her brand of politics. Voters will decide if they want a flamboyant representative who makes headlines for opposing sanctions in Iraq or one who makes headlines for bringing services into the community.”

And McKinney has responded somewhat predictably to her new challenger, painting Majette as — you guessed it — a tool of whitey. “Denise Majette’s candidacy is a Trojan Horse for the good old boys from the bad old days,” one of McKinney’s campaign statements recently proclaimed.

Booker asserts that his race, and similar ones, indicate that black politics are, in the end, just like everyone else’s. “Every ethnic group in every political system tries to resist change,” he says. “From Congress all the way down to local government, incumbents have power. Go back and read the Federalist Papers — the system is designed not to resist change.” He quotes Frederick Douglass, who said, “Power concedes nothing without a demand.”

There has been some tension between the Democratic House leadership and the Congressional Black Caucus over how much money should be directed toward Hilliard for his primary race against Davis. But for the most part, Davis has seen civil rights heroes like Rep. John Lewis, D-Ga., campaign for his opponent despite Hilliard’s ethical problems. And Booker saw himself slammed by not only the usual race-baiters like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton, but by every major politician in New Jersey — including Democratic Sens. Bob Torricelli and Jon Corzine, and Gov. James McGreevey, who told voters that if they reelected James, Newark would get a stadium for the state’s pro NHL and NBA teams. “Newark, you give me Sharpe James, you get the Devils and Nets!”

After James was elected, those plans seemed to go the way of the Nets’ NBA championship hopes. The question for the Democratic Party is how much longer it will keep attaching itself to related, similarly empty promises.

Jake Tapper is national correspondent for Salon.

Three Wall Street stooges

Romney uses Booker, Ford and Rattner to attack Obama. Can Dems take back their party from finance capital?

  • more
    • All Share Services

Three Wall Street stooges

It was inevitable.

Mitt Romney put out an ad Monday using Newark Mayor Cory Booker, along with former Tennessee politician Harold Ford Jr. and former auto czar Steve Rattner, to attack the Obama campaign for its criticism of Romney’s work with Bain Capital.  “Have you had enough of President Obama’s attacks on free enterprise?” the ad asks. “His own supporters have.”

Booker, of course, has become infamous for telling David Gregory on “Meet the Press” Sunday that Obama ads criticizing Romney’s Bain work are “nauseating” and “crap.” Then Harold Ford Jr., who laughably tried to become the senator from Wall Street in 2010 after failing to become the senator from Tennessee in 2006, couldn’t stand seeing Booker getting all the centrist Wall Street love, and jumped in behind him: ”I would not have backed off the comments, if I were Mayor Booker,” Ford told his friends on MSNBC’s “Morning Joe” Monday. “Private equity is not a bad thing. Private equity is a good thing in many instances.” For good measure the Romney ad also scooped up Rattner’s criticism – also on “Morning Joe” – from a few weeks ago: “I don’t think there’s anything Bain Capital did that they need to feel bad about,” Rattner told the crew.

Democrats are wringing their hands over the latest circular firing squad, but I think all the self-promotion and betrayal is a good thing. It should remind Democrats why many working- and middle-class people either sit out elections or don’t think there’s a big difference between the parties. For the last 20 years, folks like Rattner, Booker and Ford have tried to make sure their party courted Wall Street more slavishly than the GOP – and they often succeeded. We ought to remember that history before we get carried away with our populist high-fiving in the 2012 campaign, convinced that Obama deserves to win the fealty of the unemployed, underemployed and Occupy Wall Street, too.

I’ve always kind of liked Cory Booker, even while knowing he was a privileged Ivy Leaguer in love with his own capacity to reconcile conflict and also to convince rich people and Republicans that Democrats don’t hate them – kind of like Barack Obama, before he got sandbagged by the modern GOP. I still don’t think Booker has gotten nearly enough grief for his multilayered betrayal of Obama on “Meet the Press.” For one thing, he stepped on the president’s message, which is a terrible move for a trusted surrogate. He also played the despicable false-equivalence game – and he did it again in the video he made to try to walk back some of the damage he’d done. Booker keeps claiming what he really finds “nauseating” are the negative super PAC ads “from both sides” – but the Bain attack is coming directly from the Obama campaign (although the pro-Obama Priorities USA contributed one ad to the mix). Besides, it’s outrageous to equate the Bain attacks with the Fred Davis-Joe Ricketts plan to morph the president into Rev. Jeremiah Wright. I expect Republicans to try to make that lame argument, not Democrats.

Maybe most unfair, Booker and Ford endorsed the GOP lie that Obama has it in for private equity generally, not merely the excesses of firms like Bain. They’re only egging on the Wall Street wusses who act like the president has nationalized the banks just because he signed on to the flawed Dodd-Frank bill and once called a few of them “fat cats.” Booker and Ford are clearly only out for themselves, anxious to prove there are some Democrats who still love Wall Street. Of course, this shouldn’t surprise us: Booker has teamed up with hedge fund moguls and other super-rich private equity folks (as well as Mark Zuckerberg and Bill Gates) in the course of reforming Newark’s schools as well as generally advancing his career. (He’s also ignored public records laws to keep those big donors from scrutiny.)

I wrote about Rattner’s comments earlier. By all accounts he did a decent job as auto czar, helping the president restructure the big three automakers and save the industry. But the big Democratic Party donor is clearly trying to pull the party back from those who are coming to understand that its fealty to Wall Street has hurt it with working- and middle-class voters – and much more important, has hurt the country. It’s Democrats who have for years protected the carried interest rule, keeping tax rates low for investors and private equity principals like Mitt Romney. Booker, Ford and Rattner are firing a warning shot at Democrats who are wandering away from their Wall Street. To its credit, the Obama team is doubling down on its Bain campaign, and let’s hope that continues.

Here’s the Romney ad:

 

 

Continue Reading Close
Joan Walsh

Joan Walsh is Salon's editor at large.

Live from Piers Morgan’s disastrous Twitter show

Tweeting makes for a great distraction during CNN's social network-inspired program. I should know: I was there

  • more
    • All Share Services

Live from Piers Morgan's disastrous Twitter showTwit.

If you missed Piers Morgan’s show last night about Twitter, don’t worry, so did I. And I happened to be sitting in the audience. You see, before the show we were told that, in addition to such guests as Martha Stewart, Alyssa Milano, Twitter founders Jack Dorsey and Biz Stone, Newark Mayor Cory Booker, and Twitter entrepreneur and wine enthusiast Gary Vaynerchuk, we the audience would also be encouraged to tweet during the show.

Which meant, naturally, that I only caught about five minutes of looking at the actual stage, and spent the rest of the time tweeting about how ridiculous this entire concept was. Apparently I didn’t miss much, either: Piers Morgan, in his typical celebrity ass-kissing way, spent the entire hour talking about how he was the inspiration for Charlie Sheen getting on Twitter (as if that’s a positive thing?); for getting Martha Stewart to have her fans tweet her something about pierogis live on the air (technology!) while she spoke about the proper etiquette for shouting out into the Twittersphere (Martha uses Twitter the way a lot of celebrities do: not to interact with her fans but as a sort of message board for her thoughts of the day); and for talking to Alyssa Milano in a fascinating story about why she decided to tell everyone the sex of her baby on Twitter.

About five minutes of the show was dedicated to discussing what the application was doing internationally, and zero minutes were spent asking Biz or Jack anything of interest, like why their co-founder Evan Williams wasn’t even mentioned during the entire hour. (My theory is that Ev is poised to become the next Eduardo Saverin of the tech world.)

At one point, Piers declared proudly to Alyssa, “We’re all Twits!” and continually referenced how Biz and Jack’s original idea was to have Twitter used for bursts of short, inconsequential ideas. Only two people managed to dispute that claim: Cory Booker (who used Twitter to help his city during the snowstorms this winter, and who joked off-camera that he was planning a flash-mob over to Mayor Bloomberg’s place after the show), and Gary Vaynerchuk, who frankly called Martha out on her b.s.

“Twitter is about listening,” not talking, said Gary, who used Twitter to help launch both his wine business on a grand scale, as well as his own Web show, “Wine Library TV.” Piers, who wasn’t really listening (you ever notice how the man never asks any follow-up questions?), turned to Biz and Jack and asked if they were worried that celebrities revealed too much about themselves on Twitter. If Biz and Jack had any concerns that night, creating the application that let us know Alyssa Milano will be having a baby boy was not one of them.

Piers spent most of the commercial breaks tweeting on his phone, not looking up when guests sat down at the table. I couldn’t really blame him: I was doing the same thing.

Continue Reading Close

Drew Grant is a staff writer for Salon. Follow her on Twitter at @videodrew.

“Brick City”: Like “The Wire,” but true

The Sundance series finds beauty in the intrepid public servants of Newark, N.J.

  • more
    • All Share Services

Jayda and Creep from The Sundance Channel's Brick City

Cynicism is a luxury item. You might be able to afford it, but not everyone can. If you’re young, you can roll your eyes at the world without paying much of a price. If you’re rich, you can shake your head and sigh from the comfort of your climate-controlled, pest-free, meticulously clean square footage.

But if you’re poor or black or overweight or old or handicapped or depressed, if the world isn’t coming up roses for you unless you fight hard, every day, to make it work, cynicism can mean a slow downward spiral to death. Once you’ve suffered loss or stumbled and fallen hard, cynicism looks less like harmless fun and more like quicksand.

Of course we all like to pretend that our nice things and our education and our highly professional, dry-cleaned existence means that we’re above hope, that we don’t have to believe in something like the little guy does, that we don’t have to help out or worry or lend our voices to the voiceless. But that’s all an elaborate game of make-believe.

You may be able to afford the luxury of cynicism now. But when cynicism becomes a way of life, eventually, you pay the tax with your soul.

Another brick in the wall

Sure, it’s tough to fight your own skepticism when you witness how ugly the world can be, day after day. Now imagine growing up in a place that most people see as ugly: Newark, N.J. Its inhabitants are mostly poor and have been plagued by terrible crime rates for decades. But when you watch Sundance’s “Brick City,” a five-part miniseries that airs every night this week (10 p.m. Monday, Sept. 21, through Friday, Sept. 25) (and you’d better watch it), you get a different view. Once you get past the fact that you’re hearing the same old glowing promises out of Mayor Cory Booker that you’ve heard from every politician under the sun, once you get past the inherent hopelessness of a former Bloods gang member named Jayda trying to kick the gang life, once you look beyond the same old shots of beleaguered cops and overwhelmed high school teachers and tearful community activists, mourning innocent kids gunned down in the streets, there’s something beautiful at the core of this series.

It takes a while to let your cynicism slough off, partially because watching a real-life version of HBO’s “The Wire” is a little too brutal to take to heart at first, because you’ve been trained, by that show and by the local news, to avert your eyes from such a gut-wrenchingly dim scenario. Booker, who comes across as charming and slightly nerdy, is still determined to reduce crime in the city of Newark drastically. He wants to make the streets safe for the children of Newark, and keep more of them in school for longer. Can you feel the deep sighs coming already?

While the access that filmmakers Marc Levin and Mark Benjamin, along with producer Forest Whitaker, managed to get to intimate conversations and backroom meetings is truly impressive, it’s not always easy to craft a narrative around an endless flow of dismal planning sessions, homicides, press conferences and the latest fight between Jayda and her boyfriend (a member of the Crips). During the first hour or so, it’s tough to see how this story will ever take shape.

And that’s not to mention the desperation of this picture: Of course the city is broke. Of course Police Director Garry McCarthy is faced with trying to do more with less, but still has to alternately rally and bully his troops in scenes that could’ve come straight from David Simon’s keyboard. Of course Booker is running on fumes and idealism, repeating his own mantras over and over, trying to get all of the beleaguered city officials and community organizers and cops to catch the spirit. Even when the mayor is full of inspiration and a burning desire to fix his city, most of his city officials look like they could use a stiff drink.

But by the third episode — and I would beg you to stick with this series until then — something beautiful starts to reveal itself. Suddenly, we stop seeing Jayda as just another former gang member, or Booker as just another politician, or Ras Baraka, the principal of Central High School in Newark, as just another disappointed school administrator. Suddenly we can see straight through to the hearts and souls of these people. Maybe it just takes two and a half hours of this very patient, day-in-the-life documentary to recognize how special the people on-screen are, or maybe it takes that long for its subjects to forget that the cameras are on, or maybe it just takes a while to appreciate how good filmmakers Levin and Benjamin are at ferreting out salient moments so that we really get to know these subjects.

After some dark moments in the first few hours, Jayda starts to really come alive for the camera. She’s obviously smart and dynamic from the beginning, but her ability to connect with younger women only becomes clear when she starts a mentoring group for at-risk high-school-age girls called Nine Strong Women. During a sleepover for the girls at her apartment, Jayda warns them against falling in with the wrong crowd, telling them, “Be careful about who you call a friend.” One of the girls is annoyed that Jayda is looking straight at her when she says that.

“You want to know why I look at you? Because you have a beautiful heart and you are gullible as hell. You will believe anything. And that is the worst type of person to be in 2008 living in Newark, New Jersey.”

Meanwhile, Jayda’s boyfriend Creep, who still hangs out with his fellow Cripps gang members, says he doesn’t want to be living in Newark at all. When the two of them go looking for a new apartment to share with their baby, plus Creep’s daughter and Jayda’s young son, Creep spells it out for Jayda.

Creep: I wanna live …

Jayda: In a neutral zone.

Creep: … in the business hood, where I go outside and it’s like “How you doing this morning, sir? How you doing?” Fucking suits. That’s where I wanna live at.

Jayda: Where in Newark could we find that?

Creep: I ain’t say nothin’ about Newark.

So why not just move to a prettier place? Sure, some can’t afford it. But crucially, a lot of the people we see on-screen aren’t merely interested in making their own lives prettier (like so many of us). They’re interested in somehow, some way, pulling their community out of a deep, dark pit of despair.

“When you say a kid doesn’t want to learn, that’s like saying a moth doesn’t want to be a butterfly,” says Principal Baraka of the challenges of teaching kids with so much turmoil in their lives. “Kids learn every single day. We learn every single day. The question is, what do we learn?”

Baraka and Vice Principal Todd Warren aim to teach their kids lessons that many of them aren’t learning at home. In one heartbreaking scene, Warren addresses a group of freshman boys taking part in the Freshman Boys Overnight, a program at Central High that seems to encourage the boys to make the school a sort of second home.

“You’re playing around in the classroom, but those kids in [predominantly white] Millburn have their faces in a book,” Warren says, but no one looks all that convinced. “But you’re too foolish to see that! We’re telling you this stuff because we love you, man.”

Warren looks around the room and his voice softens. “Some of you don’t know anything about real love, though. You’ve never had any type of interaction with a real man before. Who here is being raised by a woman?” Almost every single kid in the classroom raises his hand.

“Those of you who don’t have men in your lives, your fathers, strong male figures, listen. Mr. Baraka and Mr. Warren love you. Mr. Baraka and Mr. Warren are here for you.” Even the toughest kids in the room look like they’re about to cry when Warren says this.

Boys may always grow up without fathers and Newark may always be a tough place, but this city’s heroes give us all something to aspire to. As most of us struggle mightily to improve our own lives, these people fight every day to make the world a safer and better place for their neighbors. In revealing their trials and toils, Sundance’s “Brick City” makes our luxuries, from our comforting things to the comfort of our cynicism, look downright foolish by comparison. By resisting the urge to avert our eyes, we can glimpse the blinding beauty that lies in the humblest acts of optimism, generosity and hope.

Continue Reading Close

Heather Havrilesky is Salon's TV critic and author of the rabbit blog. Her memoir, "Disaster Preparedness," published in 2010.

Why Cory Booker is mad as hell

Enraged by his city's unfair drug policies, the Newark mayor vows to stop being polite and start making a difference.

  • more
    • All Share Services

Why Cory Booker is mad as hell

Anger gets a bad rap. It’s the universal disguised denunciation (“Why are feminists so angry?”), the wink-and-nudge code word to signal contempt while fronting as pity for the deranged. That label gives those at whom the anger is directed a get-out-of-jail-free card to abandon the debate since anger is, in one fell swoop, deemed irrational. Neat trick that, changing the subject from the offense that provoked the response to a feigned disgust over the angry person’s “unseemly” behavior.

Here’s hoping that Newark, N.J., Mayor Cory Booker holds onto his newfound rage over his city’s crime rates. A recent column in the Newark Star-Ledger lays out the stark reality that has turned this Zen-y, post-race, teetotaling philosopher, Rhodes scholar, Stanford football star and Yale Law grad into Martin Luther King Jr. If he doesn’t see progress soon, we may be heading for Malcom X territory. A year into his mayoralty, Booker’s million and one grad school-infused plans to save Newark have come to naught and will continue to do so as long as the war on drugs remains a war on the urban poor.

Booker staked his campaign on making Newark safe, yet the city’s as dangerous as it ever was. Its tally of 105 murders last year is the highest in 10 years. But that die was cast long before he nailed his shiny diplomas to his office wall, because New Jersey‘s urban and crime policies are designed to keep Newark an enclave of despair, violence and race-based underachievement. Drugs remain about the only game in town for an urban poor denied entree to the legit life. And, once in the drug life, talk about cutthroat competition; dealers are ruthlessly assassinating each other, up close and personal. The only good news is the decrease in random killings. The number of people hit by gunfire is down 31 percent — people who aren’t drug dealers, that is.

What do we expect as a society, when we fail to educate and embrace “the usual suspects” and send them out into this brutal economy with no way to make an honest living? What’s more, once they’ve fallen into that trap, we do everything possible to ensure they’ll have to repeat the pattern. Cherry on top? The millions that the Halliburtons of America make off the prison-industrial complex. I’m not one given to easy racial tropes, but prisons are indeed the new plantations. New Jersey spends a billion dollars a year on prisons, one-third of which are filled with nonviolent offenders, our nation’s highest rate.

Not surprising, considering that the entire city (save the airport) is within a school drug zone, which means that illegal drug activity in the area carries a mandatory minimum of three years’ incarceration. According to Star-Ledger columnist Tom Moran, 96 percent of those so sentenced are black or Hispanic, though virtually none of the drugs in question were sold to children. Even so, the state Legislature voted down a proposal to shrink the school zones from 1,000 feet to 200 feet, offering instead proposals to make the mandatory penalties, already among the nation’s toughest, tougher still. It also refuses to fund more than token levels of drug treatment or sentencing alternatives for the nonviolent, with predictable results.

A staggering 1,500 state cons are released back to Newark each year. One thousand of them will end up back on lockdown, probably on drug charges, within three years. In between prison stays, the state’s post-release restrictions on employment (or basic adult necessities like, say, getting a driver’s license) are among the nation’s most draconian. Given the underperforming schools most in this group attended, it’s a wonder we don’t just round them up, à la the hapless Baghdad-cabby-and-tea-shop guys of our war on terror raids, and lock them all in conveniently located Gitmos.

In tracing the arc of Booker’s road to rage, columnist Moran noted, “At a time when even states like Texas are changing course, we are sticking with our failed strategy.” Booker told Moran that he was willing to go to jail himself to change things. “I’m going to battle on this,” the mayor said. “We’re going to start doing it the gentlemanly way. And then we’re going to do the civil disobedience way. Because this is absurd … I’m talking about marches. I’m talking about sit-ins at the state capital. I’m talking about whatever it takes.”

Booker’s right. It’s time to let America know that we’re mad as hell and we’re not going to take it anymore. Urban policy, in most of America and especially in Newark, is what we GIs called a self-licking ice cream cone: It exists only for its own satisfaction and benefits no one but itself. This is a reality that dreamy-eyed young leaders like Cory Booker are learning the hard way. Let no one say that he didn’t try to work within the system. Now, the same energy he put into genteelly lobbying Trenton politicians with pie charts and spreadsheets must now take to the streets. No justice, no peace.

Continue Reading Close