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Jitu Weusi’s Journey: In this Journal Message to the Community,the Education Activist Relates his Biggest Struggle Ever

Editor, Our Time Press
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Jitu Weusi

Looking back to December 3, 2012 when I went for a routine doctor’s visit with my physician of 29 years, Dr. Oliver Fine, I would not have thought that three months later I would be incapacitated fighting my biggest struggle ever – to stay alive. The day after that visit I received an alarming call from Dr. Fine urging me to visit the colonoscopy specialist because I was experiencing a precipitous drop in red blood cells.  I was anemic. Later, I underwent two exams: a colonoscopy and an endoscopy, both were very invasive procedures. Subsequently, I was

 urged to do another exam, which required that I swallow a camera scope to obtain images of my intestinal tract. All of these tests were proactive attempts to diagnose the cause of the red blood cell loss, all to no avail.

Shortly after the camera-swallowing test (I remember it  was December 10th because Kenny Gates performed at For My Sweet’s Jazzy Mondays), something strange happened. For about three minutes the right side of my brain felt sizzling-hot like an egg frying, and my hand and right eye were moving uncontrollably. It occurred while I was alone.

 Although concerned and alarmed I chose to keep this incident to myself.

 A month later, on Tuesday, January 15th , I experienced the same symptoms for a longer period of time. This too, I kept to myself.  However, the very next day, I had yet another episode while in the presence of my eldest son, Kuzaliwa Kojo Campbell, and my wife, Angela. I was escorted home and immediately thereafter persuaded to go to the hospital. I was later told it was a seizure.

On Wednesday, January 16, 2013 at approximately 11:47PM I was taken – at my request– to the emergency room of the Cornell New York Presbyterian Hospital at 70

th and York Avenues on the Upper East Side of Manhattan of which Dr. Fine has affiliation. 

After arriving and providing staff with a recent history of events, examinations began immediately.  The staff conducted a CT scan of the head and a chest X-ray.  While waiting for the results, I took notice of my surroundings for the first time. I observed  a scene straight out of an episode of MASH.  All around me were people—hospital staff and patients alike.  Space was limited; there were beds in the hallways and the family waiting areas were transformed into makeshift rooms.  The hospital was severely impacted after Hurricane Sandy hit, closing two other NY hospitals. It would be days before I would be assigned a bed.

          A Mass in Brain Detected

At 2:45AM, reports from the first tests returned – a mass was detected on the right frontal lobe of my brain which was causing the seizures. Also, a large mass was seen on my lung. In the next few days, while still in the emergency room, I underwent more tests, which served to produce more questions. More CT scans were taken of my abdomen and pelvis as cancer was being speculated but the specific type of cancer was unknown. Cancer. “The Big C”. This was a surprise to me. I was not in pain. How could I possibly have cancer? The hospital had their team of doctors that attended to me going forward. They started me on the drug Keppra to control the seizure activity. They arranged for a biopsy of the lung mass. The results were conclusive. The results were surprising. The results confirmed that which was mere speculation the day before. Malignant. Cancer.

 

        Family Team Formed, Message to Community Drafted

The next morning, a team of doctors who reported to Dr. Fine gave me a complete analysis along with their suggestion as to a path to healing. My family (on the ground with me) included my wife Angela Weusi, Dr. Damali Campbell, Kweli Campbell and Kojo Campbell.  They would form a team to help with the analysis and help answer any questions that I had.  The additional tests that were taken revealed additional masses on the right hip and the kidney. The diagnosis was that I had advanced stages of kidney cancer that had metastasized to the brain, lung and my right hip. A message was drafted to send out to the family and community as to the diagnosis at the time.

The first decision I had to make following my diagnosis was to find an oncologist. Dr. Fine recommended Dr. Nannus, an oncologist who specializes in cancer of the kidney. Having been his patient for 29 years, I trusted his opinion. After consulting with a neurosurgery team, Dr. Nannus recommended that the first course of action was to remove the tumor on the brain because tumors on the brain don’t typically respond well to chemotherapy. The neurosurgeon, Dr. Schwartz, consulted with me and my family about performing brain surgery. Brain surgery! He claimed that if there was only one tumor near the surface of the brain, then its removal would be easy. Brain surgery—easy?!    The neurosurgeon hypothesized that if surgery was done to remove the lesion on the right side of brain and if it was successful, it could slow the spread of the cancer to the other organs. Brain surgery.  At this point I needed a moment. I needed to think. This was a lot to understand. I needed guidance. I spoke with my 86-year-old godmother and best friend of my deceased mother, Alma Carroll, who told me that I should go ahead and do what the doctors suggested because everything would be on my side.  Hearing this is what I needed to make the decision to move forward and to get through the hurdle before me.

 

Soon after testing was done in the PET scan lab and MRI and all was approved for the surgery, I was taken to surgery at about 4PM in the evening. The last thing I remember was the head nurse explaining to me the effects of the anesthesia she was giving to me. She told me to relax and enjoy myself. Shortly thereafter, I was in dreamland. It was about 1:30AM the next morning when I awoke with a headache, feeling like I had a hole in my head. My wife was beside me. I squeezed her hand and told her that I had a headache. She called for the head nurse in the Neurosurgery ICU recovering room to come and deliver pain medication for the throbbing headache I was experiencing.

The drug of the day was Percocet, which allowed me to sleep to the next morning.

 

Difficult Adjustments

I was told the following day that the surgery went well, and for a moment I felt like a rock star with a cult following, as various doctors and other medical staff routinely came around to ensure that my post-op experience was going along well.  This feeling would soon fade as I began to understand the extent of the surgery. One of the earliest experiences was a complete loss of bathroom functioning. Bathroom functioning! Because the procedure was to the brain, the mobility of my legs and arms was affected. If I can’t move my legs, I can’t walk to the bathroom; something I didn’t bargain for. I became completely dependent on someone else to change my diaper at least a half-dozen times a day. Initially, I was constipated so my embarrassment went undetected. But four days later, I had a breakthrough and suddenly there was an outpouring of stool.  While overjoyed for the intestinal evacuation, I was embarrassed and upset by my inability to better control the situation or participate in the cleanup.

It is needless to say that my stay at the hospital was a difficult adjustment.  I rarely got any rest; there was a constant stream of medical staff coming to my room at all hours of the night and day to meddle in my medical business— drawing blood, checking my blood pressure and sugar levels, and giving me some kind of injection or another.  Most were competent, getting it right on the first try; more than a few were not so competent—rendering my right hand to a most painful but legal form of abuse.  A drug regimen began and was now in full swing:  steroids to reduce brain swelling which causes blood sugar instability; Insulin to control the blood sugar instability; keppra for the seizure activity;  a blood transfusion was needed on several occasions.  Physical therapy would be needed to move again and a walker would be needed to preserve the strength of my hip which is weak and a fall could mean a hip fracture.

 

       My wife, my children, a rock of support

During this crisis my spirit was bolstered by midnight visits from my sons, Toure and Kojo. It was refreshing to open my eyes at midnight to see Kojo reading over his lesson plans or Toure with insomnia cookies in hand. My daughter Kweli took some time off from work and would read the NY Times so I could keep abreast of such issues as Obama’s battle with Congress, Hugo Chavez’ health (now deceased) and updates on the Nets and Knicks.

I spent very little time alone as my wife was at the hospital daily giving me solace and confidence to deal with all the machinations as we dealt with modern medicine in a big hospital. We would often lament about how medicine today operates on a factory-type model (system with various pieces to carry out order and assignments: many employees, doctors, doctor assistants, nurses, nurse’s aides, technicians, janitors, transporters, etc.). Over a period of six weeks, I could identify hundreds of jobs that would be available for people to work in a comprehensive medical center or hospital.

During this time I had visits from all my children who live in other states: Nandi Campbell, Makini Campbell, Taifa Graves and Hazina Campbell-Dorius. They all came in at various times to attend to my health and well-being. My sister Shirley Clarke came in from California and showered me with attention. I had weekly visits from my brother and his wife, Job and Muslimah Mashariki. Visits from concerned nephews and nieces also served as a source of comfort.

 

Condition stabilized, Chemotherapy commences

Once my medical condition was stabilized, the medical team transferred me to the Baker Pavilion wing of the hospital where I would receive intensive physical therapy 4 hours a day, five days a week. The occupation and physical therapists  managed to get me out of bed and into a wheelchair every day, helping me to regain some of the basic functions I had lost after the surgery. Meanwhile, I was given a battery of tests such as X-rays, eye exams and other specialty tests for eye, nose and ears.  My medical team advised that I start receiving radiation treatments for the brain and begin an intravenous form of chemo once a week.  The radiation treatments were an experience I struggled heavily with as it required the most discipline. I was prescribed 3 sessions of radiation treatment to my brain where the mass was removed and 3 more to another area where an earlier test discovered a small mass. The procedure called for me to be fitted for a device that would allow the technicians to get radiation to a targeted area in my brain.  I had to be strapped down with my head stationary while they zapped my brain. 

The chemotherapy is to slow down the progression of the cancer in all areas of my body. While I have been told that I am holding up surprisingly well for a chemo patient, I have struggled at times. After my second week of chemotherapy I experienced fever and chills. It was discovered that this reaction was a result of a urinary tract infection (UTI), which was qualitatively the worst pain I had experienced since arriving at the hospital. On the night of the 23rd, I awoke no less than 20x crying in pain from the burning that accompanied my urination.  The next day, because of my persistence, I was moved to a floor that specialized in infectious disease— fifth-floor MASH unit. They employed a team of nurses to analyze and treat the problem. In order to cure the UTI, I had to undergo a series of tests to identify the type of infection and proper treatment. Here, I received more effective antibiotics.

My UTI soon went away.

 

Not cured, but strong

This has been a difficult ordeal, fraught with lows and lower lows. I have been faced with difficult decisions regarding treatment options. I have had to confront head-on the aftermath of brain surgery and the debilitation that follows.

Since my arrival in the hospital I have had to daily engage in a battle, a war, against cancer. It may have temporarily taken away my ability to stand and walk to the bathroom on my own, but it has not taken away my resolve to fight. And each battle that I have faced, I have not faced alone. My family has been a constant source of support and companionship, giving me strength to face each battle head-on.  I have also been blessed with home-cooked meals from my daughter-in-law Debbie Campbell and my daughter Dr. Damali Campbell that greatly aided in my food consumption and kept me strong during the chemotherapy.

I am not cured, but I am feeling stronger.  I don’t know how many days I have remaining in this life. I feel great and have no pains at the current moment.

 

Outpourings of Love

I thank God. I thank my entire family, 8 children, 12 grandchildren, my wife and friends and relatives for the support given to me in making this journey possible.

I am thankful for the many calls, letters of concern, words of encouragement and overall outpouring of love.

View From Here: Unrest in Brooklyn Must be Addressed

David Mark Greaves
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There is a rage on the street that cannot be mitigated by appeals for calm or calls to increase the peace. We see it in multiple car windows being smashed on Lafayette Avenue, overhear it in telephone conversations of bus passengers and watch it on the streets of Flatbush. It is a rage rooted in the ever-present fog of racism and fighting it is like fighting the air with fists. It is rooted in the dispair inherent in a school-to-prison pipeline that only runs faster when the unemployment rate for young black men is at 76%. And this on-the-ground rage is not going to get any better by getting “tough”. It is not going to get better by putting more police towers on the street, or beefing up special unit or saturating an area with force or politicians walking around asking for understanding.

This situation will only get better when the city, state and federal governments address the unemployment crisis in the black community as a national emergency and provide the needed disaster relief. What we’re seeing now are crowds of young men and women with no jobs and bleak futures, filling the streets with rage on cold winter nights. What will it be like in July and August? Nobody wants to live in, or even visit, a militarized city where there is on-going conflicts between the have-nots and the forces that protect the haves. But that’s where we’re heading if emergency initiatives are not taken in the areas of police tactics, job creation, small business-building, education, and social services based on building strong families.

And if the thought of helping someone in need or helping a young person achieve their full potential, or simply being fair is not enough to move these initiatives forward, then perhaps the thought that we are all in danger of finding ourselves in the wrong place at the wrong time and wishing that we had fought harder to make things better and that we, as a city, had done things differently. Had tried building communities up instead of locking them down, had tried educating all the children with a meaningful and exciting curriculum, had tried building families and futures, but by then it will be too late and we will be a city of tears and regrets with no one to blame but ourselves.
By David Mark Greaves

A Church Secretary Leaves a Legacy of Grace, Skill, Power

David Mark Greaves
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Secretaries play a pivotal role in the lives of those who run institutions. Tireless Administrative Assistants keep the files, the records, the history. They assist. They help. They aid. They offer skills beyond support: they counsel, they lead. They Protect. They are the first line of defense. They are the advisers, counselors. And their business acumen sometimes exceeds that of the executives they serve so loyally.
The late historian/preservationist Joan Maynard told me of Mrs. Rosemary Leach, a stately Brooklynite who served as secretary to the novelist Richard Wright. Mrs. Wright typed Mr. Wright’s manuscripts, organized his papers, answered his correspondence, typed his notes. We can only wonder if Mrs. Leach. Who preceded Mrs. Maynard in death, ever advised on a word or phrasing, edited a line, or even suggested to Mr. Wright, the direction of a story segment or character arc? We will never know.

What we do know is that secretaries have great influence, and church secretaries, in particular, have more.
Our own dear Sister Juanita Berry, Bridge Street Church secretary passed last fall, and was memorialized earlier this year in an elegant regal home going. Miss Berry came into her own back in the day of yellow pads, pens, pencils, scotch tape and mimeograph machines. She did more than keep minutes; her fantastic memory banked thousands of hours of Bridge Street church families’ histories. She was the watchwoman, moving in and out of the lives of congregants at their milestones: births, deaths, weddings, christenings, graduations, cotillions and more.

She rose above the mundane with grace, wisdom, a precious smile and, sometimes, if she really liked you, a brief flutter of the eyelashes. As she handled the correspondence and wet the stamps, she transformed even that most routine office work into a learning lab for young people. They learned skill, order, manners, process. One pastor said that it took computer technology to replace Ms. Berry, who did the work of an office staff. And, of course, to counsel shepherds, you must be the smarter shepherd. And that she was. During her time, she served several pastors, including, most recently, The Rev. Fred Lucas and The Rev. David B. Cousin. (BGreen)
Below: A godchild and legacy heir remembers Miss Berry.
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Mother Juanita Berry Remembered

Miss Juanita Berry didn’t have any children through natural birth, I and untold numbers are her spiritual children who grew, matured, and ventured out to serve our community and beyond in an a love-steeped effort to continue her legacy.

We are saved to serve and truly; that was Miss Berry’s motto, service. We did this through her love, guidance, gentle nudging, encouragement, prayers, and sound counsel.

My mom Juanita Watts and Miss Berry both served on the Usher Board of Bridge Street AWME Church, Laymen’s organization and various Bridge Street initiatives, became friends and remained so for well over 50 years. My mom volunteered to work in the church office with Miss Berry and did so for over 40 years. When mom volunteered, my 3 brothers and Vicki followed. Church bulletins were prepared using stencils that were pasted and together, ran off on aged mimeograph machines that my brother John had the mechanical skills and often had to fix. Hundreds of bulletins were prepared every week for morning, afternoon and evening services if needed.
Miss Berry was a professor of life, without fanfare; we learned clerical skills, church history, community service, empathy, caring, sharing, giving and we were mentored in love and devotion. All she had to do was to ask and it was done. She was a walking event planner. Her wealth of knowledge you could never find in any university. She has mentored people her entire life. In a thesaurus Miss Juanita Berry’s name would be included in the definition of service and mentoring.

Everyone has an anecdote or gem to share about Ms. Berry. She loved young people and urged us all to be the best we could. It didn’t matter how old you were. There have been some children with disabilities who she made feel so loved and special.

Andy Smith originally from Barbados shared with us how Miss Berry joined with her aunt (Mildred T.) and accompanied her and her husband to witness on their behalf when they became citizens.

No she didn’t have any natural children, yet hundreds of us learned from this elegant woman of God, who taught us by example of the beauty of service. She was behind the scene making everything and everybody look good. Pastors, Rev. Henderson, Portlock, Hildebrand, Foley, Lucas and Cousin have entertained some of the world’s premiere clergy, politicians, entertainers and professionals from every walk of life here at this historic church Bridge Street. Mahalia Jackson a fellow native of Chicago was just one of the national gospel artists who gave concerts here in this very auditorium.

Miss Berry was a master organizer and made your program, or event successful. She loved hymns, anthems and good music. It should be noted that she initially came to New York to study music at Julliard School of Music. She was a master musician, pianist, organist and I had the honor of hearing her play the church’s historic pipe organ.

Miss Berry loved the AWME Church and was proud of its legacy and all that it stood for, serving it with honor and dignity. She worked seven days a week and on so many occasions both she and my mother stayed until the church doors were closed.

The last Sunday of October 2012, Miss Berry took ill in Bridge Street Church during morning service. She did not linger. By that Thursday November 1, 2012, God called her home.

There is a song, “Let the Work I’ve done speak for me.” Miss Berry’s work and legacy will endure for decades to come. She loved the AWME Church and all that it stood for. She served with honor, dignity and grace and was proud of the phenomenal legacy of this church. And Bridge Street is proud of her great contribution to it.

DA Candidate Ken Thompson Takes His Message to Barber Shop ‘Town Halls’

David Mark Greaves
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By Mary Alice Miller
Former federal prosecutor Kenneth Thompson commenced his campaign for Brooklyn District Attorney with a series of intimate visits to local barber shops. Dressed in a casual jacket, open collar shirt and running shoes, Thompson’s unassuming manner captured the attention of barbers and patrons alike. Several barbers stopped cutting hair to listen. One pulled out his iPhone to record the event. Thompson’s interactive style morphs the campaign stops into mini-town halls.

Thompson humbly describes his background at each stop. He was raised in NYC public housing, the son of a single mother who became among the first female police beat cops. As a federal prosecutor, he played an instrumental role in getting police officer Justin Volpe sentenced to 30 years for the torture of Abner Louima in the bathroom at the 70th Precinct. Thompson stood by African hotel chambermaid Nafissatou Diallo, who while on the job, was attacked by Dominique Strauss-Kahn (DSK), the French national who was the former head of the International Monetary Fund. “In December, I got DSK to settle,” Thompson said. “Now Ms. Diallo can move on with her life with her beautiful young daughter.”

When Thompson asked about stop-and-frisk experiences, at every shop there were stories.

One barber said he was his way to work one night – I work security in Manhattan – I stopped to get a cup of coffee. On his way out of the store an unmarked police car came up. They asked what he had inside the cup. He told them it was coffee. “He got out of the vehicle and knocked the coffee out of my hand. They wrote me a ticket for having an open container. I went to the 7th Precinct and complained. They dismissed the ticket,” said the barber. “This happened about 2 years ago.”

He added, “I have had customers say they also have been stopped-and-frisked. They don’t like it”.

Another barber said stop-and-frisk is “definitely going to impact my decision. I don’t like stop-and-frisk. I don’t think we need more police. If there are more police, they are going to do more stop-and-frisk. My patrons come in and talk about these things”.

Timothy, a customer said, “We have had legacies of DA’s for decades. I think there is not a great relationship (in general) between the police and the community. Instead of more police, there needs to be more community policing”. Thompson told him, “We in the community want the police. Timothy agreed, saying, “They serve a role. But they need to hear what our needs are. They need to know how to interact with us, not just when they are intimidating the neighborhood”. Closing his case, Thompson said, “I hope you will vote for me.” Timothy: “Definitely. Now that I know your name, I will look out for it.”

One barber recounted his experience with stop-and-frisk. “I was walking; they stopped me and said I fit the description of something that was going on,” he said. “I was coming from work.” A customer said, “I’ve been stopped a lot of times while I am driving”.

Another barber said he saw someone get beat by the police right in front of his barber shop. “He was just coming in,” said the barber. “Police came from nowhere and just started harassing him, talking about some stores got robbed close by. They slammed his head into the wall. Next thing you know, they had him on the ground, beating him. There was so much blood out there. We had to go outside and say ,‘This guy has nothing to do with what you are saying. He is coming to get his haircut’. That was crazy.”

At several stops Thompson asked, “Do you know who the current district attorney is?” Not one man in several shops full of customers knew.

“That’s a problem,” said Thompson at each stop. “When I become Brooklyn DA, you will know that Ken Thompson is there fighting to make sure that everybody is safe and treated fairly by the police and the criminal justice system. I need you to spread the word because this is a very important race. The Brooklyn DA has the ability to decide whether to prosecute a case or not, whether a case is fair or not fair.”

“The fact that nobody in this whole barber shop knows who the current Brooklyn DA is speaks volumes about what is going on. Everyone should know who the Brooklyn DA is because the Brooklyn DA should make sure you have confidence in what’s going on in the criminal justice system,” said Thompson. “Let me be clear: I don’t want to be DA just to put people in jail.” Pointing to a young child getting his haircut, Ken said, “I want to be DA to make sure this young boy can grow up and if he wants to, he can become a justice on the U.S. Supreme Court. My mother did not give up on me. I want to make sure he has the best schools and the safest communities. I believe he can be anything he wants to be. It’s my job as the next DA to make sure he has that chance. I am committed to this race for DA. Together, we can make Brooklyn safer, stronger and better”.

Thompson also went into women’s hair salons. The women also stopped what they were doing to listen. Some nodded their heads in agreement when Ken spoke of after-school arts and crafts and midnight basketball as methods to stop crime. “We need programs to stop people from coming into the criminal justice system in the first place,” said Thompson. “If you give me the opportunity to be DA, I will represent you with distinction. I will make you proud.” When Ken finished his presentation, the women applauded and invited him back to speak to more of their customers.

At another barber shop, one customer asked if Ken wanted to be the first Black prosecutor like Eric Holder. Ken took the time to explain the difference between the federal and state prosecutors. “Holder is the first Black U.S. Attorney General and if I win, I’ll become the first Black district attorney in Brooklyn.” The customer’s response: “I like that idea. Absolutely.”

32BJ Endorsement Boosts Letitia James’ Campaign for Public Advocate

Mary Alice Miller
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By Mary Alice Miller
A lifetime of service as an advocate for the people of New York is beginning to pay off for Council member Letitia James. 32BJ SEIU has endorsed her campaign for Public Advocate. Anticipated endorsements include the United Federation of Teachers, the Transport Workers Union, 1199, Mason Tenders, and Trade and Hotels. Why? “Because I talk about wage stagnation, outsourcing and the privatization of public service jobs. The growing gap between the haves and have-nots, and the poverty rate in our city. 50,000 individuals are sleeping in shelters, 20,000 of whom are children. The vanishing middle class,” said Councilwoman James.

James says what the City of New York really needs is a Public Advocate in 2013 “that will be independent and will continue to criticize the administration and the City Council when necessary, and stand with them when they do right”. She has stood by the Bloomberg Administration on green initiatives, bicycle lanes, plazas, healthy food. “But I have criticized him from time to time,” said James.

Letitia James has stood strong against the mayor on some memorable issues. It was James who first uncovered the CityTime massive fraud and millions in wasted taxpayer dollars. James was an advocate during the 2010 Blizzard which left New Yorkers stranded under 4-foot snow drifts while Bloomberg and his top administration were out of town leaving no one accountable. From the beginning, James was skeptical of Atlantic Yards and the yet unfulfilled promises of affordable housing and good permanent jobs in exchange for millions in subsidies for a basketball arena. And James was one of the prime plaintiffs against overturning term limits.

As Chair of the Sanitation Committee, James pushed for equity regarding garbage removal, proposing a transfer station be placed on the Upper East Side to supplement those in Bushwick, South Bronx and Harlem. She is concerned about the Bloomberg Administrations cuts to education, the proposed closing of 20 firehouses and the corrupting influence of corporations on politics.

James staunchly believes the budget of the Office of Public Advocate should be a line item just like the Independent Budget Office, and not subject to politics. She offered a brief history to explain why. “The best-known public advocate was Mark Green. He had a budget of $6 million dollars and about 60 employees. The Public Advocate currently has a budget of $1.9 million and about 19 employees,” said James. “The cuts began to happen when Betsy Gotbaum stood with us on term limits. They continued to cut the budget. Now that Bill de Blasio is running for mayor, the budget was cut even further.”

The Office of the Public Advocate basically has five functions: 1) to be an ombudsman to negotiate complaints throughout the city of New York, because according to James, not all elected officials are equal; 2) the Public Advocate is Speaker Pro Tem, who in the past attended hearings, presided over the City Council Stated Meetings, can vote in case of a tie, and proposed legislation; 3) the Office of Public Advocate basically is the “Charter Cop” to make sure each of the executive offices is adhering to the NYC Charter; 4) Office of Public Advocate has the ability to litigate, to sue. “Mark Green sued several individuals. When he was PA, he had a number of attorneys on staff,” said James. “The last two PA’s have not been in the position to do that. Mark Green issued a number of FOI’s – freedom of information requests – to get at information to hold government accountable”; and 5) OPA has an appointment on city planning and an appointment on the pension board.

“I have asked the pension board to divest from gun manufacturers and to divest from companies that engage in a pattern and practice of harassing tenants,” said James because “pension dollars were being invested in private equity companies that were being used to buy Mitchell Lama and rent-controlled/stabilized buildings and then going after the tenants and urging them to leave because they wanted to rent out the apartments on the market.”
With imagination and ingenuity, James said the Public Advocate can create as many bureaus as you want. “I would like to create a bureau in the OPA to deal with low-wage workers and the abuses and violations they are experiencing. I would like to create a bureau for individuals to come forward with ideas on legislation and a bureau to deal with all the development that is happening in the city of New York because the ULURP (Uniform Land Use Review Procedure) process is stacked against communities,” said James. “I think it is time to transform that.”

There are other challengers campaigning for Public Advocate. One candidate has nominal political experience; one ran a raucous Wall Street-funded campaign against Rep. Carolyn Maloney, garnering 19% of the vote; and a third candidate – also funded by Wall Street – demonstrated his true colors recently when he broke his contract with his campaign consultant and took two of her employees while she was sitting Shiva during the days after the death of her father.

James is undeterred. “The road to victory is clear. In terms of fundraising they beat me, but when it comes to people power I have more donors than anyone else,” said James. “My donors are giving $5, $10, $20. Their donors are giving $4,000, $5,000. My donors are not in the position to do that. But I have 2,500 donors from all five boroughs. With that, we are going to win. We are going to raise our voices and make sure that individuals whose voices are lost and have not been heard from will be heard in the Office of Public Advocate.”

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