A10


EZ SU ELECTION 2010 | THE DISTRICT Rhee feeling guilt over Fenty loss, won’t commit to staying BY BILL TURQUE D.C. Schools Chancellor Michelle A.


RheesaidWednesday that she felt “some- what bad and guilty” about the defeat of Mayor Adrian M. Fenty but offered little sign that she wanted to work for his apparent successor Council Chairman Vincent C. Gray. While some of Gray’s council allies are


seeking to delay Rhee’s departure, she said that it was “not necessarily the case” that it was in the best interests of D.C. schoolchildren for her to stay in her job through the end of the school year. And she sent an e-mail to central office staff that some recipients believed had a valedictory tone. “It has been my honor to work as


urgently and successfully as we have for DC’s students under Mayor Fenty,” she wrote. “Without his leadership, we would never have been able to achieve as much as we have for this city. Nothing


about yesterday’s election lessens the urgency we need to continue to deliver amazing results for our schools. There are 45,000 children depending on our ability to do what we do well every day. I know you won’t let them down.” Rhee has led D.C. Public Schools since


Fenty hired her in June 2007 as the first school system leader appointed solely by the city’s mayor.Her tenure has featured a rise in some measures of student achievement but also has been politically bruising as she closed schools, laid off hundreds of teachers and negotiated a new pact with theWashington Teacher’s Union thatweakened tenure protections. For much of the past three years, Gray


and Rhee have jousted over a range of school issues, and Rhee campaigned for Fenty, angering some Gray supporters. But the first day of the post-primary period brought a more cautious and conciliatory tone from both sides. “I have actually placed a call to her. I didn’t get her. But I’m sure she’s busy


today,” Gray told reporters at a midday news conference. “She’s running the schools at this stage, obviously. But we will talk. I look forward to talking to her very soon. She has a message from me, and I'mabsolutely certain, as she always does, she’ll get back to me.” Rhee, who complained last year that


the chairman was difficult to get on the phone, e-mailed a response. “I’m very much looking forward to


having the conversation and hearing what he thinks,” she said. “I will meet with him at his convenience.” In statements during the primary


season, Rhee said her hard-charging brand of school reform was not compati- ble with the more-deliberative Gray. “I’m very clear on that,” she said in


July. “I think it’s naive to believe that all of a sudden, overnight, just moving from Sept. 14 to Sept. 15 that’s going to change.” Asked Wednesday what she hoped to learn about Gray that she didn’t already


know from three years of working with him, Rhee said: “I’m not going to specu- late on that kind of stuff.” As Rhee and Gray begin to confront


the issue of her continued service, sup- port was building on the D.C. Council to have Rhee stay at least until the end of the current school year. “There needs to be continuity, and I support some conti- nuity,” said Kwame R. Brown (D-At Large), winner of the primary race to succeed Gray as chairman. Council members Mary M. Cheh (D-


Ward 3) and Tommy Wells (D-Ward 6) floated the idea of an “extended transi- tion” that would allow Rhee to serve until June 2012, finishing five years as chan- cellor. Gray was noncommittal when asked about it Wednesday. “I’m sure I'll get a lot of ideas, andwe’ll consider those ideas,” he said. Rhee’s other comments Wednesday


struck notes of regret and guilt about Fenty’s defeat. Asked by MSNBC’s Norah O’Donnell whether she felt demoralized


by apparent voter rejection of the reform initiatives she and Fenty pushed, she said: “I do feel somewhat bad and guilty. This man, Adrian Fenty, is truly the best leader that I’ve ever worked for.” Rhee added that they hurt their cause


by not telling their story as effectively as they should have. “The fact thatwedidn’t do a good a job


as I think we could have in communicat- ing why we were making the decisions that we did that led people to be suspi- cious of the actions is, I think, unfortu- nate,” she said. Outside Francis-Stevens Education


Campus in Foggy Bottom, a consolidated elementary and middle school created by Rhee’s 2008 school closings, Shirley Mims, who has a son in kindergarten, said she was thrilled with his progress but said her impression of Rhee was that “she did a lot of firing.” “I can’t see what she really did tomake improvements,” she said. turqueb@washpost.com


Fenty’s internal political compass led him astray fenty from A1


ming pools and soccer fields affected people’s lives. His handpicked police chief was popular across the city.Whenit was time to vote, the mayor was confi- dent, the substance of his administra- tion’s work would trump all. How Fenty came to squander that


success and the goodwill that catapulted him to office is the story of a mayor who misread an electorate he was sure he knew better than anyone, who ignored advisers’ early warnings that key constit- uencies were abandoning him, who shut out confidantes who told him what he did not want to hear and who began to listen only when the race was all but lost. The account is based on interviews with morethan adozenofFenty’s advisersand supporters, including some such as Lin- denfeld and campaign chairman Bill Lightfoot, and others who talked only on the condition of anonymity because they did not want to appear critical of the mayor. The sources were interviewed Tuesday or earlier with the agreement that the information would not be pub- lished until after the election. The mayor was interviewed in the final hours before the campaign ended. Fenty, an incumbent with a $5 million


war chest who lost to council Chairman Vincent C.GrayonTuesday, usedmany of the same tactics that had won him the mayoralty in 2006, frustrating advisers who thought he needed a more sophisti- cated campaign. He refused to pay for pollsters to measure the public mood, for example, or hire researchers to dig up dirt on Gray. Instead, the mayor ap- peared to run as an insurgent and relied on what had delivered him to the apex four years earlier: door-to-door cam- paigning and that internal compass that no longer seemed to work. Fenty, in an interview, said he has lots


of advisers but that he himself is a student of political history, citing books he has read about past elections and presidents such as John F. Kennedy and Barack Obama.He said he trusts himself toknowthepath to victory,whenit’s time to attack an opponent or acknowledge a mistake. “Ultimately,” Fenty said, “the candi-


date and person in charge has to make the final decision.” But Lindenfeld, who found his advice


to the mayor ignored, said Fenty’s belief in his own radar was misplaced. “Hiscampaign’s failing resultedfroma combination of tenor, hubris, pride and political malpractice,” Lindenfeld said Tuesday. “Campaigns that win are ones that are nimble.He’s got only one play in his playbook: knocking on doors.”


Blind to a rising tide


As the year began and the mayor prepared for his reelection campaign, he knew that he could remind voters that crime was down and students’ math and reading scores were up. Despite a double- digit unemployment rate, the District’s economy had fared far better than nearly all other cities during a national reces- sion. On top of that, the mayor’s cam- paign war chest had surpassed $4 mil- lion at that point, and months passed without a formidable challenger emerg- ing.


Still, within his inner circle, concerns


arose that a long string of decisions that threatened to alienate voters, such as the mayor’s unannounced vacation in Dubai that was paid for by a foreign govern- ment; his refusal to share Washington Nationals baseball tickets with the coun- cil; and Schools Chancellor Michelle A. Rhee’s dismissal of hundreds of teachers and dozens of principals for what she said was poor performance. Allegations that the mayor’s fraternity brothers had gotten lucrative city contracts prompted the council to sponsor a special investiga- tion and hold months of public hearings. Advisers, including Lindenfeld and Lightfoot, warned Fenty in the spring that he needed to take notice. They questioned why Fenty was still traveling the campaign trail with Sinclair Skinner, a friend at the center of the contracts scandal. Independent polls showed the mayor’s popularity slipping, including a


13th or 16th StreetNW, near the mayor’s home, and being surprised by the num- ber of Gray lawnsigns. “It was like, ‘Wow, What’s going on?’ ” said the friend, who spokeoncondition ofanonymity because he didn’t want to appear to betray the mayor. “It was like 50-50, and it dawned on me, this thing is a lot closer than I thought.”


Contrition, too late By early July, the mayor remained


unwilling to follow his advisers’ recom- mendation that he apologize for offend- ing Washingtonians. But he agreed to deal more head-on with voters’ criticism. He approved a commercial in which supporters voiced the common com- plaints about his apparent arroganceand indifference, and then provided their own answer for what mattered most: the results that his administration delivered. Yet nothingseemedto turn the elector-


ate toward him. On Aug. 4, Democrats in the mayor’s home district, Ward 4, held their straw vote, an event that drew so many people to the ballroom at St. George Antiochian Orthodox Christian Church that Lightfoot couldn’t get in- side. Standing on the sidewalk, Lightfoot eyed the arrivingmassesofGray support- ers, many of them senior citizens, and knew the mayor was in for a difficult night. The mayor’s performance during the


BILL O'LEARY/THE WASHINGTON POST


D.C.Mayor Adrian M. Fenty, backed by campaign staff members, speaks to the media after his primary election loss. Campaign insiders say themayor’s unwillingness to listen to them and address growing signs of voter unrest helped lead to his defeat.


January survey sponsored by council member David A. Catania (I-At Large), a Fenty ally who took it upon himself to stop by the mayor’s office to share the results. “I thought it was time to take the


subject seriously and to start reversing those declining numbers if he was going to mount a serious reelection effort,” Catania said. But the council member said Fenty


seemed unfazed. “I didn’t see a sense of urgency on his part,” Catania said. In mid-March, Fenty campaigned in Southeast, taking along his stepbrother, B. Seth Bryant, 40, who was surprised by the hostility they encountered. Bryant wondered why there weren’t


reporters around to record the moment. For months, themayor refused to release a campaign schedule to the media or the public, a policy that confusedsomeadvis- ers. “You need to have some cameras going


with you door to door,” Bryant recalled telling the mayor, whom he described as unresponsive. “I think a lot of supporters, myself included, have been surprised at how insular his administration has been.” On that afternoon in Southeast, Bry-


ant said, the cameras would have caught the grateful woman who told the mayor that shehadoncebeenhomelessandthat his administration had helped find her an apartment. On March 30, after weeks of specula-


tion, Gray announced his candidacy, declaring that the city needed inclusive and transparent leadership, a direct ap- peal to those who thought that Fenty was too secretive, ruled by fiat, and had shut them out. That night, four peoplewerekilledand


five wounded in shootings on South Capitol Street, the deadliest spasm of violence in the city in years. The mayor didn’tshowupto the crime scene until 24 hours later, his arrival prompting boos from the crowd and a renewed wave of complaints that he was disconnected. Where had Fenty been? Initially, he


and his aides were vague about his whereabouts, but then they confirmed that he had been on a family vacation in Jamaica. During an interview Saturday, the mayor amended the story to say that after Jamaica, he had taken his two sons to a tennis tournament in Florida, which is where he was when he learned of the shootings.


Asked where in Florida, Fenty said, “Can’t you just say Florida?”


A campaign in peril Less than two weeks after the shoot-


ings, a couple hundred supporters, many of them Fenty appointees and paid staff members, listened to the mayor declare his candidacy for reelection at his Geor- gia AvenueNWheadquarters. The broad spectrum of former loyal-


ists and donors missing from the crowd also suggested how the mayor’s fortunes had changed since 2006. Gone were people such as philanthropist Judith Terra, education advocate Marc Borbely and gay rights activist Peter Rosenstein, all of whom now support Gray. Fenty punctuated his speech with a mantra that seemed aimed at those who had questioned his hard-charging style: “We did it because it was the right thing to do!”


Despite Fenty’s defiance, his advisers


were concerned about the anger toward the mayor that simmered in black neigh- borhoods. InMay, Lightfoot asked Darryl Wiggins, a business owner who was vice chairman of the mayor's 2006 transition committee, to host a meeting at which a half-dozen prospective black voters, a cross section of professionals and blue- collar workers ages 40 to 60, would be encouraged to speak candidly about Fen- ty.


For several hours, Wiggins recalled


later, the group railed about Fenty’s failure to appoint African Americans to top administration posts, his approval of the mass firings of teachers, many of whomare black, and his apparent lack of concern for their struggles during an economic downturn. By the end of the meetings, Wiggins said, he was sure that, in a city that is majority black, the mayor’s campaign was deeply troubled. “Black people are not going to go out


quietly,” Wiggins said. Based on the group’s attitudes, Light-


foot urged Fenty to pay for additional focus groups, since he would not agree to commissionpolls.Theircampaignwasin peril, and they needed to know the way forward. Fenty agreed, if grudgingly. By May, some of Fenty’s advisers


thought he needed to counter Gray’s unceasing focus on the allegations of cronyism that shadowed the mayor, a strategy that would represent a dramatic departure from his usual style. In three previous campaigns, including the 2006


mayoral race,Fenty’s drawas a candidate was at least partially rooted in his posi- tive message and refusal to beat up opponents. But advisers such as Ronald Moten,


Fenty’s friend and a community activist, recall telling themayor that “if the public doesn’t find out who Vince Gray is, there’s a good chance you could lose.” Fenty’s response,Moten said, was cau-


tious: His shots would come at the right time. Moten couldn’t wait. By mid-May, the activist launched his own Web site devoted to attacking Gray. On June 3, Fenty jumped into the fray,


using a Democratic candidates forum in Foxhall to criticize his opponent’s past record as director of the Department of Human Services, a gambit that surprised some members of his campaign team who were in the audience and thought it made the mayor look petty to personally deride the council chairman. They be- lieved surrogates should be enlisted to attack Gray. Fenty persisted. Over the ensuing


weeks, they thought that Fenty had no focus to his attack, meandering from DHS to a fence that Gray had improperly installed at his home to other matters. Some advisers thought themayor’s deliv- ery was unpolished, should have bored in solelyonDHSand would have beenmore effective in campaign literature. At Fenty headquarters, the meetings to map strat- egy became less frequent, if they were held at all. The mayor, it seemed, was both candidate and campaign manager. Fenty, in an interviewTuesday, said his


reelection strategy was rooted in what hadworked forhimin the past.Hehadn’t needed pollsters before, and he did not need them now. “I’ve never polled. It’s a decision I made 12 years ago. It’s always worked, so why change?” he said. “I ran this campaign like I ran all my cam- paigns. “There’s no one thing that wins elec-


tions,” he said. By early June,whatever themayor was


telling himself was not producing results he wanted. On June 17, Gray beat Fenty in a straw


poll inWard 3, an area ofNorthwest that themayor counted as hismost enthusias- tic base. The mayor’s allies were begin- ning to sense a changing landscape. Gray was raising money — nearly $100,000 more, in fact, than the mayor had in the three previous months. One friend recalled driving along on


forum—he lashed out at Gray on a range of topics—only further confirmed Light- foot’s fears. “He’s supposed to be the king,” the campaign chairman said later. “The king doesn’t get dragged out to the gutter.” Gray won the straw poll 581 to 401,


leaving Fenty’s aides scrambling to play down the significance of the mayor los- ing in the ward that had launched his political career. Almost immediately, friends began


urging the mayor to shift gears: He needed to show contrition.He needed to prove to Washingtonians that he under- stood their disappointment with him. More than ever, he needed to apologize. Neil O. Albert, the city administrator,


and council member Muriel Bowser (D- Ward 4) helped assemble a list of more than 100 activists and former supporters for Fenty to call. On Aug. 11, during a debate with Gray, he inched closer to a mea culpa, saying, “I haven’t done a good job of communicating and including people.” On Aug. 29, The Washington Post published the results of a poll that put into numbers what many in the Fenty campaign had feared. The mayor for months had refused to conduct a poll. Now he learned that he trailed Gray by 17 points among likely Democratic voters, a marginthatseemedtoomuchtomakeup with slightly more than two weeks to go. His wife,Michelle, later described herself and the mayor as “shocked” at the poll. On that Sunday morning, Fenty sum-


moned his staff members to campaign headquarters. He stood in the middle of the large room, pacing as he spoke, then grabbing a chairandsittingdown,urging them not to lose hope. Remember his race against council member Charlene Drew Jarvis in 2000? He had been the underdog and he had won. Or how about Obama after Hillary Rodham Clinton had surprised him in NewHampshire? You get down, Fenty said, but you


bounce back. This is when the work begins. The staff erupted in cheers, some


grabbing the mayor’s hands as they chanted, “One, two, three! Fenty!” Three days later, at the last of the


debates, Fenty asked for forgiveness and a second chance and said that “even mayors can make mistakes and that people can learn from their mistakes,” words not unlike those his advisers had proposed he tell voters more than two months before, when they urged him to apologize. By September, though, an electorate


once electrified by Adrian Fenty’s youth and energy no longer seemed to be listening.


stewartn@washpost.com schwartzman@washpost.com


KLMNO


THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 2010


Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32  |  Page 33  |  Page 34  |  Page 35  |  Page 36  |  Page 37  |  Page 38  |  Page 39  |  Page 40  |  Page 41  |  Page 42  |  Page 43  |  Page 44  |  Page 45  |  Page 46  |  Page 47  |  Page 48  |  Page 49  |  Page 50  |  Page 51  |  Page 52  |  Page 53  |  Page 54  |  Page 55  |  Page 56  |  Page 57  |  Page 58  |  Page 59  |  Page 60  |  Page 61  |  Page 62  |  Page 63  |  Page 64  |  Page 65  |  Page 66  |  Page 67  |  Page 68  |  Page 69  |  Page 70  |  Page 71  |  Page 72  |  Page 73  |  Page 74  |  Page 75  |  Page 76  |  Page 77  |  Page 78  |  Page 79  |  Page 80  |  Page 81  |  Page 82  |  Page 83  |  Page 84  |  Page 85  |  Page 86  |  Page 87  |  Page 88  |  Page 89  |  Page 90  |  Page 91  |  Page 92