BROOKLYN -- The New York City mayoral race is still missing Park Slope's most famous son: former congressman and salacious tweeter Anthony Weiner. Weiner's spectacular meltdown and resignation from Congress in 2011 left the allegiance of liberal Brooklynites up for grabs. And so on Monday all five of the Democratic candidates for mayor, as well as two of the three Republicans, came out to Congregation Beth Elohim, a large Reform synagogue in the neighborhood, to make their case to the potential voters.
The forum featured each candidate appearing alone and being grilled by moderator and Slope resident Andrea Bernstein of WNYC for about 20 minutes. The elegant domed sanctuary can hold up to 1,200 souls, and was about two-thirds filled with an audience that was exactly what one would expect in a neighborhood famed for its obsession with organic food, canvas tote bags, and gender-neutral baby attire: diverse, but mostly white, and staunchly progressive. They were mostly of the old Slope demographic, both literally and figuratively -- a lot of gray hair and eyeglasses, and no one other than the politicos was wearing a necktie.
Susan Metz, 70, is typical of the area's first wave of gentrifiers. She has lived in neighboring Prospect Heights for 32 years, where she taught high-school English, and she is upset by the influx of richer, newer arrivals displacing her neighbors and causing, "a loss of diversity that I mourn." Asked if she belongs to Garfield Temple (as Beth Elohim is known to most Slopies) or any other congregation, she said, "I'm a member of the Food Co-op."
Metz is leaning toward Sal Albanese, a former city councilman who garnered just 2 percent in the recent Marist poll showing Weiner second in the Democratic field, behind City Council Speaker Christine Quinn, and slightly ahead of Comptroller John Liu, Public Advocate Bill De Blasio and former Comptroller Bill Thompson. Albanese grew up in Park Slope, but he hails from an even earlier wave of immigrants than the hippies who renovated brownstones: He came from Italy as a child. On the City Council, Albanese represented Bay Ridge, a largely Italian and relatively conservative enclave deeper into Brooklyn. Ironically, though, he is arguably the most liberal candidate in the race. Metz said she appreciates that Albanese "has been the most outspoken on community gardens, public schools and participatory democracy."
Short and bullet-headed, Albanese seems the most in touch with the concerns of the outer-borough working class. His signature issue is a plan to implement tolls on cars crossing bridges and tunnels in "areas well-served by mass transit," in order to fund public transportation and "keep the subway fare affordable." This would mean, of course, tolling the nearby East River crossings such as the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges, but if anyone in the audience was offended, they kept it to themselves.
Anyone supporting Albanese has been following the race unusually closely. Most Park Slope voters are more likely split between Quinn and De Blasio, her main challenger from the left. Political observers have speculated that because Quinn would be both New York's first female mayor and first openly gay mayor, she is inoculated from criticisms that she is too conservative and too close to the business community and to Mayor Bloomberg. Park Slope, long home to a large lesbian community, is a good testing ground for that theory. (The national Lesbian Herstory Archives are in the neighborhood.) Metz, however, says the only Democratic candidate she would definitely not support is Quinn, who she dismisses as "a handmaiden for an authoritarian mayor who bought a third term."
Asked by Bernstein how she responds to those complaints, and reports that she is mean, Quinn said, "I don't think I'm mean, but I am tough." She later offered a slew of progressive accomplishments on the City Council. Some, such as tenant-protection laws and preventing teacher layoffs, might mollify some liberal skeptics. Others -- cracking down on "crisis pregnancy centers" that mask their anti-abortion agenda, and what she called "green accomplishments" -- could be construed as consistent with the claim that, like Bloomberg, Quinn uses social liberalism to win cover for economic conservatism.
But social liberalism matters to Park Slope. Diana Berger, 44, lives in the Slope and belongs to Beth Elohim, although she describes her religious affiliation as "culinary-Jewish, atheist." Clad in a light blue fleece and reading a Harry Potter novel before the event started, she said she is leaning toward Quinn for identity-politics reasons, even though Quinn disappointed her by slow-rolling the City Council's popular bill to require employers to provide paid sick leave. "I hate to admit it, [because] She's a woman, just like I'll support Hillary [Clinton]," said Berger. "But she seems progressive."
Bernstein started off by asking every candidate whether the Brooklyn Nets were right to fire head coach P.J. Carlesimo on Sunday. The candidates were almost dumbstruck, either completely unaware of who Carlesimo is or petrified of giving an off-the-cuff answer. Albanese asked Bernstein to repeat the question, then bashfully admitted, "I really don't know." Non-profit executive and Republican candidate George McDonald laughed and then stared blankly until Bernstein gave up and moved on.
But Quinn, showing some of the political adeptness that has helped vault her to the frontrunner position, joked that because her wife is an alum of Seton Hall, where Carlesimo coached for many years, she is obligated to say only good things about him. This went over extremely well with Berger who enthused after the event that Quinn was "fantastic."
"Fifty years ago, she could never have said, 'my wife,' and she came right out with it," said Berger. "That matters to me because I'm married to a woman too. Abortion also matters to me." Judging by the lack of applause, the audience seemed more pacified than enthused by Quinn. She was exceedingly careful to take vague positions on most issues. Should New York have traffic lanes dedicated solely to buses? It should be examined, she offered. "It won't make sense on every street in every neighborhood," she said, adding and that adjacent residents and businesses should be consulted. No one could possibly object -- but no one is likely to be inspired, either.