Why Mayor?

Why am I running for mayor of Greensboro?

It’s actually not because I think our local government is bad.

I don’t.

I think Greensboro has had a robust city government. We have talented people working for this city. We have people who have spent years trying to solve difficult problems, balancing budgets, building infrastructure, providing services and keeping a growing city moving.

So I’m not running because I want to walk into City Hall, kick the door down and announce:

“Everybody out. The new guy’s here.”

That’s not leadership. And frankly, at 69, I’m not kicking down any doors unless somebody stretches me first.

I’m running for a much simpler reason:

I think Greensboro is ready for its next chapter.

I look around this city and I see enormous potential.

We have universities. We have hospitals. We have manufacturing. We have aviation. We have incredible parks. We have arts and music. We have neighborhoods with their own personalities. We have young people with ideas that I couldn’t have dreamed of when I was their age.

And we’re sitting in the middle of North Carolina, in one of the fastest-changing regions in America.

So I don’t look at Greensboro and ask:

“What’s wrong with this place?”

I ask:

“What could this place become?”

That’s a completely different question.

Because I believe Greensboro can be a world-class city.

But here’s the important part:

I don’t want to make Greensboro world-class so somebody in New York or Los Angeles notices us.

I’m not interested in putting Greensboro on somebody else’s map.

I’m interested in making Greensboro extraordinary for the people who actually live here.

The person working two jobs.

The small-business owner trying to keep the doors open.

The teacher.

The firefighter.

The college student wondering whether there’s a future here after graduation.

The family trying to find affordable housing.

The person struggling with mental health or addiction who needs somewhere to go besides an emergency room or a jail.

The retiree who’s lived here for 50 years and wants to recognize the city 20 years from now.

And the kid growing up in Greensboro today who ought to be able to imagine building an entire life right here.

That’s the Greensboro I’m interested in building.

And some of the ideas are going to be big.

Let’s rethink transportation.

Imagine being able to park once and move throughout the city using buses, bikes, scooters, shuttles and whatever transportation technology comes next.

Let’s rethink downtown.

Not simply as a collection of buildings, but as Greensboro’s living room—a place filled with music, art, food, comedy, festivals, families and people actually talking to one another.

Let’s rethink mental-health care.

Instead of waiting until somebody reaches a crisis, let’s ask what a community system built around treatment, recovery, housing, job training and dignity could look like.

Let’s talk seriously about wages, housing, homelessness, infrastructure and economic opportunity.

But here’s something I’ve learned:

A mayor doesn’t accomplish any of that alone.

And I don’t want to.

The most powerful resource Greensboro has isn’t sitting inside City Hall.

It’s walking around Greensboro every single day.

It’s the people.

I’ve spent a lot of time talking to people around this city—sometimes people I knew, often complete strangers.

And when you actually stop and listen, something remarkable happens.

People have ideas.

Really good ideas.

The barber knows something about Greensboro.

The bartender knows something.

The teacher knows something.

The business owner knows something.

The 22-year-old knows something.

The 72-year-old knows something.

And none of them knows everything.

Neither does the mayor.

That’s the kind of mayor I would want to be.

Not the guy standing behind a podium pretending he has every answer.

I’d rather be the guy walking around Greensboro asking:

“What are we missing?”

“What would make your neighborhood better?”

“What’s one stupid thing government does that we could fix?”

And my personal favorite:

“What’s the crazy idea everybody says can’t be done?”

Because every great city was built by somebody who proposed something that sounded ridiculous at first.

And I especially want younger generations involved.

Not sitting politely in the back of the room waiting for somebody to hand them the microphone someday.

Give them the damn microphone now.

Put young people on commissions.

Bring them into planning.

Bring them into technology.

Bring them into transportation.

Bring them into environmental policy.

Bring them into City Hall.

And then combine their imagination with the experience of people who’ve been around awhile.

That’s where things get interesting.

Because I don’t think Greensboro’s future belongs to one generation.

It belongs to all of us.

And I want this to be fun.

Yes, fun.

When did we decide civic life had to be miserable?

Building your community should be exciting.

There should be music.

There should be arguments.

There should be laughter.

There should be experiments.

Some ideas will work.

Some won’t.

Fine.

Learn something and try again.

Because I’m not running for mayor to preserve Greensboro exactly as it is.

And I’m certainly not running because I think Greensboro needs to be rescued.

Greensboro doesn’t need rescuing.

Greensboro needs imagination.

It needs participation.

It needs collaboration.

And occasionally, it needs somebody willing to ask:

“Why the hell aren’t we doing this already?”

That’s why I’m running.

Not to put Greensboro on the map.

Not to build some monument with my name on it.

And not to tell people what Greensboro should become.

I’m running because I want to help the people of Greensboro decide what Greensboro becomes next.

We’ve already built a good city.

Now let’s see how great we can make it.

Together.

And if we’re going to spend the next few years doing that…

we might as well have one hell of a good time.