Last Friday, The New York Times featured an article on John Fetterman, the mayor of Braddock, Pennsylvania. In “Mayor of Rust,” Sue Halpern examines Fetterman’s attempts to bring urban renewal to a small town where one-third of the residents live in poverty.
Fetterman has attracted the media spotlight in the past year or so, with interviews on The Colbert Report, CBS News Sunday Morning, PBS and CNN. The Guardian has styled him as America’s “coolest mayor,” in part because he tattooed the town’s zip code on his arm as a sign of his personal commitment. Rolling Stone has called Fetterman the “Mayor of Hell” – his other arm bears a list of dates, remembering citizens lost to violence in Braddock since his election as mayor in 2005.
Fetterman has become something of a folk hero, because of his larger-than-life persona and maverick, do-it-yourself approach to urban planning. He has invested much of his own money to encourage land-banking (the demolition of abandoned buildings to create public parks), development of artist colonies, and the construction of community gardens and playgrounds. Halpern’s article from The New York Times refers to Fetterman as “a Paul Bunyan of hipster urban revival,” and that description seems to fit.
Halpern asks an important question: “Is Braddock a model for bringing a Rust Belt town back to life?” Ultimately, I think we must conclude that it is not (or, more precisely, not yet).
In Braddock, the office of mayor has little legal authority. Most executive decisions are made by an elected six-person borough council, and the day-to-day business of government is handled by a borough manager. The role of the mayor is largely to break ties during votes of the borough council. As Halpern observes,
Fetterman knew this, of course, but he thought being mayor would give him a “bully pulpit.” Fetterman made no attempt to hide his belief that most of the borough council members had little interest in furthering the fortunes of the town and were using their positions mainly to benefit themselves. The borough manager, Ella B. Jones… considered Fetterman to be a wealthy interloper, the “great white hope” of Braddock, as Jones put it. “Council makes the laws,” Jones said in 2006. “They do it all. They have the vote. They make the rules. And he doesn’t.”
So, Fetterman’s approach to urban renewal has been principally a private project, not a political one. Most of the projects are funded by his nonprofit organization, Braddock Redux, which is popularly called “John’s Nonprofit.” Vacant church property acquired by Braddock Redux is known as “John’s Church,” and a convent purchased for use as a hostel, studio and gallery for artists is “John’s Convent.” I’m beginning to see a pattern.
The comments of residents further attest to the absence of civic participation in Fetterman’s renewal projects. One constituent observes,
“I came back to Braddock because I was interested in what John was doing.” … “But he doesn’t play well with others. He decides we need a youth center, and he’s going to put it here, but I never hear him come to one of these council meetings and say, ‘You know what, I’ve got some money, what should we do with it?’ If you’re casting yourself as the mayor who speaks for Braddock, we want him to at least pretend that we have a say in any of this.”
Another resident quips, “John’s idea of grass roots is Astroturf.”
While some may feel that Fetterman isn’t a team player, is it fair to expect that he should be? As Pope Pius XI observes in Quadragesimus Anno, elaborating on the principle of subsidiarity, “it is gravely wrong to take from individuals what they can accomplish by their own initiative and industry and give it to the community.” If Fetterman can accomplish urban renewal projects more effectively and efficiently without the involvement of local government, perhaps it would be imprudent or unjust to insist that these projects be considered by, or subject to the approval of, the borough council.
In an e-mail to Halpern, Fetterman wrote, “I know I am not Braddock’s savior, never felt that way, and never will.” I don’t doubt the sentiment. I believe that Fetterman sincerely wants to make a difference, and I applaud his personal commitment and creativity.
But there are limits to what one person can accomplish. According to David Lewis, an architect and urban planner quoted in the article, “The key to urban reclamation is citizen participation. … You start with the people.” Braddock Redux has afforded Fetterman the opportunity to do good for the people of Braddock, but it seems to have done little with the people of Braddock. The decision to bypass the local political process has led to increased efficiency, but it has diminished both public accountability and civic participation. Fetterman is not just a private citizen, and with the office of mayor come expectations that he consider the opinions of his constituents, build consensus, and work through political institutions.
The case of Braddock teaches a hard lesson. Social change requires the commitment of an entire community. The “chief cook and bottle washer” approach to leadership does not suffice. Men like Fetterman are needed to inspire others to action, not to carry the burden by themselves.
We earnestly want to believe that one person can make a difference. We want to believe that a John Fetterman can reverse a town’s fortunes with nothing more than good ideas and some elbow grease. Why? Are we letting ourselves off the hook? Are we secretly thinking, “Good thing he’s doing it, so I don’t have to”? Perhaps we should look to the needs of our own local communities, instead.
-- Michael Brewer
(Photo from Iesu Communio's 