“Ain’t gonna change,” West Rock’s Earlana Mundy told the candidate.
“Nothing changes?” he responded. “Well, that’s why I’m running.”
Marcus Paca was the candidate in question, and Tuesday he made that pitch at the Brookside Estates public-housing development in West Rock on the first stop of a long afternoon in his quest to rack up thousands of signatures so his name can appear on the Sept. 12 Democratic Party mayoral primary ballot against two-term incumbent Toni Harp.
While some people grabbed the ballot petition Tuesday as soon as Paca mentioned he is challenging Harp, other signatures didn’t come as easily.
Mundy’s neighbor, for instance, had brushed him off by saying she wasn’t planning to vote anyway. That’s a separate issue, Paca had tried to convince her, because he needed her signature if there is going to be a race at all.
“He’s trying to get his foot in,” the neighbor called out to Mundy as she contemplated whether to sign.
“I don’t mind that then,” Mundy said. She then complained neighborhood kids don’t have enough to do. She said she wants to see recreational centers and free programming in the Elm City, “like it was back in the day when I was growing up,. [Harp] didn’t change nothing yet. Basically, it’s the same old things going on. Maybe let someone else try. It don’t hurt.” She clarified she was undecided, a maybe, but she was willing to sign the petition.
Paca handed her a sticker. One signature down; a few thousand more to go.
The clock’s ticking, as Paca approaches the Aug. 9 deadline to submit a minimum of 1,872 registered Democrats’ signatures to the registrar. Because some names might not check out when the petition’s verified, his campaign is aiming to have a wide buffer, about 4,000 names total. (He needs only 220 voters, of any party, to run unaffiliated in the general election.) On Tuesday night, Paca estimated that, since the Democratic convention on July 26, he has cleared the first 1,000 signatures. In the next week of canvassing ahead, the campaign needs to triple its output to reach his goal. (People can sign up at the 103 Grand Ave. campaign office each day between 10:30 a.m. and 8 p.m., Paca said.)
On the trail Tuesday, Paca offered a straightforward pitch: I’m here, ready to listen and lead, if you give me a chance.
Communicating that message and seeking the signatures, person-to-person, proved a painstaking process as Paca sped across the city with his wife and campaign aide, Mendi Blue, to attend four events in five hours.
Under pressure, Paca hustled to fill his sheets with names while also dealing with the curveballs of campaigning: The door-hangers they’d ordered were too small to fit around most knobs, roughly 20 volunteers needed direction on where to go; events later in the week had to be firmed up; a friend called with news that his childhood buddy had died; an organizer at another event sought an explanation why he hadn’t shown; and a city full of constituents wanted his ear to make their opinions known.
“This is what the job is,” he remarked, grinning, as he waited for someone to come to the door at Brookside Estates. “There’s so many great people. I’ve met doctors and lawyers and street pavers. All these people, all they want to do is take care of their families and get a decent education for their kids, safe streets and some jobs. It’s not like they’re asking the world.”
When the door opened, he extended a hand. “Marcus Paca,” he said. “I’m running for mayor.”
The Pitch
Paca called himself one of the last true campaigners in the Elm City. He said he’d learned to canvass as a 14-year-old, while dropping literature for John Daniels’s mayoral campaign — an experience that taught him how to approach people, despite his parents’ warnings about talking to strangers.
A version of his pitch, as told to one voter in Brookside Estates: “I’m out here gathering signatures to try to get on the ballot so that Democrats in New Haven will have the opportunity to vote for another person. I think democracy is about competitive elections, talking about the issues and addressing voters face-to-face. So, what I’m trying to do is gather signatures to qualify to get on the ballot in September as a Democrat and then also get on the ballot as an independent, if need be, in the general election in November.”
Then the questions: “Are you a registered voter? You’ve voted as a Democrat before?” If he got two affirmatives (and, when he wasn’t knocking on doors, a third to check their New Haven residency), Paca handed over a clipboard. He pointed to the line where the voter signed, then printed their name, date of birth and address — as legibly as possible, Paca sometimes instructed, “so they can read it downtown.” Then he had the voter fill out another form for the general election.
As soon as the ink dried on both pages, Paca asked if anyone else was home, trying to drum up as many names as possible. “Would your wife happen to be registered as well?”
Making an Appearance
During the two-week signature-gathering crunch, when collecting names remains a top priority, Paca had had to decide how to still find time to talk about the issues. He said he tries to show up at select events where he can “advocate for residents’ needs.” One that seemed worthwhile, at 5:30 p.m., was a Newhallville Grassroots Action Planning meeting at Lincoln Bassett Elementary School.
But shortly after organizers Kermit Carolina demanded journalists clear the room and asked attendees to stick to solutions rather than place blame, Paca and Blue walked out. They noted that the event was more tightly controlled than a press conference last week that went awry, when Newhallville residents voiced criticisms of Mayor Harp until Carolina took the mic to defend her.
Outside the school, Paca spoke with Demethra Telford, the mother of Tyriek Keyes, a 14-year-old who was killed by gunfire last month, and the boy’s stepfather, Cedric Rutledge. Outrage over Keyes’ murder had sparked the planning meeting.
“It needs to stop, and it’s never going to stop until everybody come together,” Telford said of the violence.
“But what they say is that government has no role, and it does,” Paca argued. “It’s a big part. Because what government does is it creates the environment that’s conducive to education, conducive to job creation.”
“That’s right,” Telford said. “That’s right.”
“They’re not leading this way. They’re trying to pacify us,” Paca said, of the event. “You’re just giving us a space, so you can scream and yell in quiet, where nobody can hear you,” He went on, “Why are they inside? It’s a gorgeous day. Why don’t you put a whole bunch of chairs out here and let people see the community’s coming together?”
“Yes, yes,” Telford agreed. “I already knew that the mayor wasn’t coming. I seen her at the funeral and one time at my house. Then they asked me, ‘Can the news come in?’ My baby isn’t a show. I said, ‘No.’”
“I’m sorry,” Paca said. “If nobody apologizes, I’m sorry. Because this is an embarrassment. Somebody needs to take responsibility for that.”
“Yeah,” Telford said.
“This is embarrassing,” Paca repeated. Of the mayor’s non-appearance at the event (she was at a separate function), he added to Rutledge, “If Tyriek had 24-hour protection, he’d still be here with us right now. [Harp’s] the only one walking around with 24-hour protection, but she can’t come to this community and address the issues plaguing her city? That’s why I’m running for mayor. I’m tired of this. We’re going to make those changes.” He criticized the mayor speaking only in “controlled environments” and “disrespecting the community.”
Then Paca hopped in the car. Back to signatures.
Competing Campaigns
At the next two stops — a fair at the Casa Otonal apartment complex in the Hill, where kids learned to spot potential fire hazards in a smoking model home and competed in dancing the nae nae; as well as a National Night Out concert in Edgewood Park — Paca competed with Harp’s team in sharing their separate platforms.
After hearing griping all afternoon about the lack of youth programs (and more specifically, about the discontinuation of a Father’s Day barbecue at the Rockview housing development in West Rock), Paca talked up the need for more opportunities for New Haven’s kids. He noted the rash of gun violence in the headlines, and he said that it is too tough for young people to find jobs.
At Casa Otonal, he told one elderly woman, Jane Knight, about his idea for encouraging volunteerism with a centralized database of opportunities, including connecting seniors with children for mentorship. Knight later said she hadn’t seen much of Harp, though the previous mayor, John DeStefano, had regularly stopped by to say hi. After looking over handouts from both campaigns, she said she plans to vote for Paca, approving of what she called his “back to basics” message.
Paca repeatedly said he was enjoying himself, and he looked the part too. As the five-hour push neared an end, he danced and shook the hand of every kid in sight in Edgewood Park, interrupting an apparent altercation between some Ice the Beef members.
Around 7:45 p.m., Harp’s field coordinator was already passing out flyers as Paca arrived. One woman accepted one, then threw it on the ground, cursing. Paca made a beeline for her.
“Mayor Harp didn’t do nothing. She said she was going to bring books, jobs and stuff out here, and she ain’t done shit,” said the woman, Ethel Lewis. The mom, who’s out of work and on dialysis, said she can’t afford programs for her kids. “[Harp] stopped after-school programs and stuff. How you supposed to survive? It’s hard. We gotta live. You can’t take everything away from us. And then, you don’t see her. She do a whole lot of talking behind. Come out to the public, and see what we do with our kids.” Lewis signed, then handed the clipboard over to her friend. She said she plans to vote for Paca.
One more signature in. A few thousand more to go.