Minorities rare in Topeka politics

Tim Carpenter Capital-Journal

James McClinton will attempt to cross a Topeka political frontier reserved for white people.

Appointed mayor by a sharply divided city council on the eve of the 50th anniversary of the Brown v. Board of Education decision and the 150th anniversary of Topeka's founding, McClinton said he is committed to campaigning next year to become the first elected minority mayor in the capital city.

Confidants have told McClinton that voters will be reluctant to hand a black man the keys to Topeka City Hall. They feel a majority won't be ready for that kind of political transformation in April.

"I kept saying to myself, 'If not now, then when?' " McClinton said, punctuating his frustration by thumping an armchair in his office.

Nine robed brethren of the U.S. Supreme Court issued the watershed decision on May 17, 1954, that triggered the demise of state- sanctioned school segregation and sparked a cascade of court decisions that addressed discrimination in America, including laws and regulations that had undermined opportunities for minorities to vote in elections.

But since the Brown ruling, few minorities have won a place in the inner circle of Topeka and Shawnee County politics.

In the most recent city and county elections, white candidates seized 35 of 38 major political offices. A Hispanic and a black captured seats on the Topeka City Council, and a black was elected to the Topeka Public Schools board. Minorities comprise 21.1 percent of the county's population, but won 7.9 percent of these elective offices.

The minority party in the county is neither Republican nor Democrat. It is a party of blacks, Hispanics, Asians and American Indians who see little or nothing of themselves in area politics.

"No matter how educated I am, no matter how experienced I am, no matter how knowledgeable I am about this community, race does matter," McClinton said.

Cards close to vest

Interviews with dozens of Topeka residents indicate some people, primarily whites, are convinced racial division in politics has been defeated. Holders of that view say antebellum sensibilities have been wiped away in an enlightened era of big-tent politics. They say the best candidate --- brown, black, white or yellow --- wins.

"I happen to believe that qualified minority candidates can get elected in Topeka," said Shawnee County Commissioner Vic Miller. "I think we have several examples demonstrating just that point."

Mark Braun, president of Topeka's school board, said there was no need for affirmative action in local politics.

"I would hope that Topeka would be ready for the best mayor possible, if she happens to be white or he happens to be black," Braun said.

Even apolitical Topekans like to see politics as colorblind.

"I'm not going to judge people by their religion or race," said Jared Gregg, a Washburn University student who has lived in Topeka all of his life.

A different perspective emerges when talking with minority men and women in Topeka. Most say electoral prejudice has diminished but remains a fault line in political life. There is a belief that color consciousness is mostly covert, like a stealthy cat moving through tall grass. Not ordinarily visible, but capable of delivering a decisive blow when the opportunity arises.

"It's the hidden agenda that is scary," said John Nave, an elected member of the Topeka City Council. "It's unfortunate that we're in that position, but that's the way society is. That's the way life is."

Ballot box scorecard

Consider the 38-person city, county, state and school board roster put together by Shawnee County voters in the most recent elections.

In those elections, white candidates were chosen for all 12 Shawnee County seats in the Kansas House and Senate. Since those decisions by voters, two departed white lawmakers have been replaced by two white men.

"There have been black Shawnee County legislators. It's not like there's never been any," countered Rep. Vaughn Flora, a Topeka Democrat with a hefty minority population in his district.

Indeed, the last minority elected to the Legislature from Topeka left office during Ronald Reagan's first term as president.

Carolyn Campbell is the lone minority on the seven-member Topeka school board. Three of nine city council members are minorities. John Alcala and Nave were elected, but Lover Chancler was appointed. On a 5-4 vote, the city council appointed McClinton.

The area's elected representative on the Kansas State Board of Education is white. No minorities are among the trio of Shawnee County commissioners. One of five county offices is held by a minority, the appointed Treasurer Larry Wilson. He is the first black person to hold a major elective office in Shawnee County government since the 1954 Brown decision.

The appointments of McClinton, Chancler and Wilson to replace white politicians gives minorities 15.7 percent of the 38 positions, still below the demographic threshold.

The appointees shouldn't expect a free ride on Election Day.

"There are still people who think that we don't have a right to even run for an office, let alone get elected," Campbell said.

A broader sphere

Gov. Kathleen Sebelius, a longtime Topeka resident, said progress has been made toward resolving historic bias against minorities in politics. But the inclusive vision that animated the Brown decision remains beyond voters' grasp, she said.

"We still have race issues," Sebelius said. "Kansas continues to be sort of in the swirl of the struggle over race, the struggle over equality, and I think it's still very much with us."

Looking beyond voter decisions in the 38 prominent offices in the city and county, profiles of dozens of political and judicial representatives of interest to people in the Topeka area are exclusively white, with one exception.

Twenty-eight school board members in the Auburn-Washburn, Seaman, Shawnee Heights and Silver Lake districts of Shawnee County? All white.

Fourteen district court judges in Shawnee County appointed by a governor and subject to retention at the ballot box? All white. Kansas Supreme Court? All white. Kansas Court of Appeals? One minority among 10 judges.

Statewide offices of governor, lieutenant governor, attorney general, secretary of state, treasurer and insurance commissioner? All white. The two U.S. senators and the U.S. House member from Kansas serving this area? All white.

"I think a lot of people don't believe minorities, persons of color, have the brain power, the intellect, to hold these jobs or be leaders," said Robert Bugg, interim director of the city's Human Relations Commission.

Bugg, born and raised in Topeka, is a former state director of motor vehicles and led former Mayor Joan Wagnon's Council on Race Relations.

"Lots of barriers can be knocked down, if you give people a chance," he said.

Stirring the pot

Jack Alexander, who attended a segregated elementary school in Topeka before the Brown decision, snapped the city's political color line in 1973. He was Topeka's first black elected public official. The job --- water commissioner.

"Now, I am so proud of that," he said. "But now remember that's almost 20 years after Brown v. Board. I'm disappointed that it took that long."

In his first campaign, he had to beat an incumbent, Charles Wright. The race was a bit nasty, but Alexander --- a union organizer at Goodyear Tire & Rubber Co. --- had strong backing of organized labor. His underdog campaign attracted memorable endorsements.

"It was a coming together," Alexander said. "From the likes of being endorsed by a guy with the name Alf Landon to some guy on the street who would stop you and say, 'Here, I ain't got no money, but here, take this dollar for your campaign fund.' It was wonderful."

Alexander was re-elected five times, stepping aside in 1985 when the city abandoned the commission system for a council form of government. In the early 1990s, he became the first minority appointed to the Kansas Corporation Commission.

The first minority on the Topeka school board was Don Oden, winning a 1975 campaign.

Oden said the school board wasn't integrated until two decades after Brown because majority white voters had no motivation to abandon the status quo. Intense racial strife among the city's high school students prompted a group of adults, many of them white, to urge Oden to run for the board.

"At first, I thought they were crazy," he said.

Oden didn't feel he had a realistic chance of winning. But a solid organizational effort on his behalf produced a narrow victory.

"It was probably the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me," he said.

Oden said he was able to help the six white board members appreciate that there were legitimate perspectives on public education that differed from their own.

"It was a learning experience for me and a learning experience for them," he said.

Other trendsetters

In 1991, McClinton became the first minority elected to the city council in Topeka. Pete Tavares was the first Hispanic on the council, winning a seat four years later.

There has never been a minority on the Shawnee County Commission.

Miller, the former city councilman now on the county commission, said he had worked to elect minorities to the city council but not the county commission.

"I think I could get one elected," he said. "Just don't want them running against me."

In 1974, William "Ken" Marshall became the first minority from Topeka elected to the Legislature. The Democrat was in the House for one term, losing a re-election campaign in 1976 to Anthony Hensley, who represented Topeka in the House for many years before shifting to the Senate.

Hensley, a Democrat who has risen to Senate minority leader, said the ouster of Marshall didn't have anything to do with race.

Hensley said the campaign was about the candidates' ability to represent the needs of the district, which has a population that is one-fourth minority. Hensley said he works to prove skin color doesn't define political effectiveness.

"I feel like I've been able to gain the trust of African-American voters in my district because they know I'm here to voice their concerns," he said.

The last Topekan of color to serve in the Legislature was J.B. Littlejohn, who was in the House from 1977 to 1982. He was a political maverick --- a black Republican serving a largely white district in west Topeka.

Crossing the frontier

A knot of factors conspire to deter minorities from walking in the footsteps of Alexander and Littlejohn.

Bugg, the city's Human Relations Commission director, said the minority community was caught in a political version of Catch-22.

Since too few majority white voters trust minorities to do a good job in politics, he said, minorities are rarely elected. And because minorities are rarely elected, he said, it is difficult for minorities to get excited about politics and do what is necessary to earn the trust of white voters.

If that barrier could be conquered, Bugg said, the kind of political support minorities need to operate competitive campaigns would be forthcoming.

"Once the general population believes in that, then all the money and all the support that comes with it --- the telephone calls, getting out there saying, 'I think this person is good,' knocking on the doors and doing all the other things they do for a regular person" --- will be there for minority candidates, he said.

Bill Richards, president of the Topeka chapter of the NAACP, said minorities were often their own worst enemy on Election Day. He doesn't understand "knuckleheads" who register to vote and then don't cast a ballot.

Apathy has long been an enemy of political advancement by minorities, he said.

"What they've got to concentrate on is getting the vote out," Richards said. "A voteless people is a hopeless people."

Joe Douglas, among the first blacks elected to the Topeka school board in the 1970s, said the method of electing board members was a disadvantage to minorities. In the primary, candidates run by residential district. Board members are elected at-large in the general election, which allows white voters to dominate the process.

"I was overwhelmingly the choice in my district, but I didn't get elected the last time I ran," he said.

Gotta plug in

McClinton said a few more minority candidates wouldn't hurt, either.

"How many African-Americans have run for mayor?" he said.

When the city council opened up the job of mayor to all interested people following Butch Felker's resignation in 2003 amid a campaign finance scandal, McClinton said four minorities were among the 41 applicants.

Sen. David Jackson, R-Topeka, said he has struggled to recruit minority Republicans for House and Senate races in Shawnee County. So far, no winners.

"We ran a really good young black man, a Republican, against Hensley four years ago. He wasn't able to gain traction," Jackson said. "I recruited --- tried to recruit --- a black man to run against (Topeka Democrat Rep. Roger) Toelkes in the last election. He didn't want to take the time."

Miller, the county commissioner, said simple math would continue to dictate the outcome of many campaigns in Topeka and Shawnee County.

"You go over to the west side of town, the fact of the matter is, there just aren't many African-Americans that even live there," he said. "Consequently, the opportunity for one of them running for office is smaller than it would be otherwise."

Richards said demographics didn't have to be a fatal flaw for minorities interested in public service. He said candidates must get plugged into the entire community --- not just their own neighborhood or church --- to be viable. Networking in community organizations is a good way to confront misunderstanding between the races, he said.

"This is where we learn about each other," Richards said. "I belong to military organizations, Kiwanis, Knife and Fork Club. I'm out there. I let people see me. I'm ready to have conversations and be social. Those are the things that bring credibility."

Stepping forward

McClinton will attempt to transcend 50 years of post-Brown political tradition by seeking a full term as mayor in April.

It will be his name in black lettering on the white ballot.

But his candidacy will represent more than the aspirations of one man. It will be viewed by many in the city's minority community as a grand opportunity to cast aside the worn blanket of political obscurity.

McClinton will ask more than a rhetorical question: Can an African- American be elected mayor in the city where the Brown decision draws its name?

He is aware the answer may be a resounding "no."

"Freedom and equality are very fragile in this town," he said. "Fifty years seems like a long time, but we're still in the infancy."

THE SERIES

Tuesday: Minority business development has been slowed by local government and the Chamber of Commerce.

THE SERIES

SUNDAY:

Segregation is rising in Topeka public schools amid a student achievement gap that breaks along racial and ethnic lines.

TODAY:

The minority population in Topeka and Shawnee

County remains underrepresented in local elective politics.

TUESDAY:

Minority business development has been slowed by the actions of local government and the Topeka Chamber of Commerce.

ONLINE

Hear local politicians discuss the success of minorities in politics and find expanded coverage of the Brown decision. cjonline.com

EDITOR'S NOTE: This is the second installment in a three-part series by The Topeka Capital-Journal that takes a look at race in Topeka public schools, politics and workplaces.

Tim Carpenter can be reached at (785) 295-1158 or tim.carpenter@cjonline.com.

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