San Francisco’s highest profile mayoral candidate, Gavin Newsom, is stumped. Sitting at his steering wheel and driving himself to probably the 10th function of the day, he has just been asked to tell a reporter something different and significant about himself, something that’s not in the campaign website hagiography or the San Francisco Bay Guardian’s hit pieces.
He’s drawn a blank.
“I’m not in the mind-set to reflect in general terms,” he says.
So here’s the official, well-worn Gavin Newsom story.
He was born and raised in the city. He spent his early post-college years building businesses in San Francisco, among them the PlumpJack Wine Shop and the Balboa Café.
He was raised by a single mom; his family was well connected politically; he has been mentored in business and politics by some powerful friends.
He now has serious money.
His political career took off in 1996, when Mayor Willie Brown appointed him as president of San Francisco’s Parking and Traffic Commission and later to a vacant position on the Board of Supervisors, where he has served since.
Proudest Feats
Newsom’s proudest political achievements include creating the Municipal Transportation Authority and the Taxi Commission.
He authored Proposition E, which helped reform the troubled Municipal Railway system. Newsom also pushed for a $110 million park bond, which included a guaranteed set-aside for the acquisition of open space and capital improvements to parks.
His supporters include former Supervisor Tom Hsieh, College Board trustee Lawrence Wong and school board member Eddie Chin.
Newsom is young. At 36, he has about 7-1/2 years in politics to his name and is seeking the city’s highest office.
Can he mix it up with heavy hitters in Sacramento and execute an agenda while surrounded by people probably older and more experienced than he?
Newsom is quick to point out that he is the second most senior member of the Board of Supervisors (in years of service) and has 15 years’ experience in building small businesses into large enterprises.
“Without hesitation, I say that I have strong working relationships on a state and federal level, and that’s why they endorsed me,” he says of his top-name backers.
That’s where his political pedigree comes in handy, too.
“I’ve grown up with a political family that is very involved, and I have built deeply rooted relationships that have given me experience in the system,” he says.
Care Not Cash
The kind of consensus that he established with voters that led to the November 2002 passage of Care Not Cash proves he is a coalition builder, he says.
Ah, Care Not Cash.
It is Care Not Cash, or Proposition N, that has earned him the ire and in some cases hatred of homeless-rights activists and has yielded TV exposure and brand recognition to San Franciscans who don’t voraciously consume the minutiae of city politics.
The measure seeks to cut General Assistance payments to some homeless people and funnel those funds into housing and support services for the homeless.
His detractors characterize him as a silver-spooner demonizing homeless people for his own political advantage.
“I was very fortunate to have a strong relationship and a very influential mother and father, but to the degree that wealth was part of that — quite to the contrary,” he says.
“There were no trust funds in my family. My mother literally worked two jobs almost her entire life.”
Newsom says that his politics on social issues such as affirmative action and gay marriage are indistinguishable from those of his rivals.
But on his most contentious stands — Care Not Cash and the Nov. 4 Proposition M panhandling ordinance — Newsom thinks he is the true progressive and says he is worried about what he sees as a strong strain of San Francisco thought that makes people acknowledge a problem like aggressive begging but defend the status quo.
The way Newsom sees it, actually addressing the problem and not sweeping it up with a DPW cleaning machine is to be the true progressive.
“It’s shameful that San Francisco has had this policy of avoidance,” he says. “I feel a sense of absolute obligation to do something to help people. Others think it’s OK to watch people slowly suffer. That’s a laissez-faire philosophy.”