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    N.Y.C. Is Emerging From a Crisis. Will Voters Show Up?

    So far, turnout for local primary elections has been low. Historically, this has not been the case in challenging times.Theoretically, a city that is known for attracting some of the smartest and most ambitious people on earth ought to have a deep bench of gifted, charismatic politicians available to run for its highest offices. But the current election cycle has reminded us, again, that New York, for some time now, has not been that place. The lure of Wall Street and tech siphon off a lot of potential talent, and then those industries do not graciously reciprocate, giving back their most attuned or socially conscious.As compensation, we might get the deliciously viperous instead, just for the engaging fun of it, but there too the current roster is not delivering. When a high point of name calling in a televised debate is one candidate telling another that she sounds like a “press release” — a criticism that Ray McGuire leveled at Maya Wiley during the final Democratic mayoral debate on Wednesday night — it is hard not to feel nostalgic for the sizzle of the old days.Consider the mayoral race of 1977, in the midst of the city’s fiscal crisis, which resulted in the election of Ed Koch. Then, the Democratic primary field offered Mario Cuomo — whom Koch defeated in a runoff — Bella Abzug, Herman Badillo and Percy Sutton, among others. One of the most prominent Black political and business leaders of the 20th century, Sutton had served as an intelligence officer with the Tuskegee Airmen, a Freedom Rider, a lawyer to Malcolm X, a state assemblyman and a longtime Manhattan borough president before he made this bid. No one would ever have to question his commitment to living in New York — at the age of 12 he stowed away on a passenger train from Texas and slept under a sign on 155th Street.The 1977 race marked one of the four occasions during the past half-century that Democratic mayoral primaries in New York drew more than one million voters. No matter how much New Yorkers lay claim to liberal values, political obsession and locavore consumer habits, they do not turn out in enormous numbers for actual local elections. Early-voting and absentee ballot data for the primaries on Tuesday — which should effectively elect the next mayor, city comptroller, Manhattan district attorney and numerous members of the City Council — have not suggested a distinct surge of the kind this fraught and consequential moment would demand.The voting swell in 1977, as well as the other instances in which the tally exceeded one million votes, also coincided with challenging and pivotal moments in the city’s history — in 1973, a period of high and rising crime; in 1989, when the city was reeling from the fallout of Black Monday and the savings and loan crisis, which left a devastating impact on the real estate market; and then in 2001, during the aftermath of Sept. 11. Each one of those moments called, just as the pandemic recovery period does, for a transformational mayor. But for various reasons, the sense of urgency that animated those races is absent now.Jerry Skurnik, the longtime political consultant and data specialist, told me that by Tuesday, when the primary election concludes, he expected a turnout of roughly 800,000 (out of the city’s 3.7 million registered Democrats). He could be wrong, obviously, but the lack of attention and focus New Yorkers have brought to this race suggests that he most likely is not.In an ideal world, more would have been done to persuade people just how crucial their votes are right now, to summon the best and the brightest in advertising, to call on big New York celebrities to lead a get-out-the-vote movement, something like what we saw in Georgia in advance of the January Senate runoffs. “This all should have been integrated as part of the city’s reopening,” George Arzt, another longtime political adviser (currently working with Mr. McGuire) and former press secretary in the Koch administration, told me. He proposed sloganeering along the lines of: “‘A new election, new people for the future of the city. For you, for you children for, your grandchildren — this is the beginning.’”.css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-3btd0c{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-3btd0c{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-3btd0c strong{font-weight:600;}.css-3btd0c em{font-style:italic;}.css-w739ur{margin:0 auto 5px;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-w739ur{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.375rem;line-height:1.625rem;}@media (min-width:740px){#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-w739ur{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-w739ur{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-9s9ecg{margin-bottom:15px;}.css-uf1ume{display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-box-pack:justify;-webkit-justify-content:space-between;-ms-flex-pack:justify;justify-content:space-between;}.css-wxi1cx{display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-flex-direction:column;-ms-flex-direction:column;flex-direction:column;-webkit-align-self:flex-end;-ms-flex-item-align:end;align-self:flex-end;}.css-12vbvwq{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-12vbvwq{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-12vbvwq:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-12vbvwq{border:none;padding:10px 0 0;border-top:2px solid #121212;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-qjk116{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-qjk116 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-qjk116 em{font-style:italic;}.css-qjk116 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:visited{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}The mayor’s office did make an investment of $15 million in an education campaign largely targeted at the novelty of ranked-choice voting, another confusing procedural layer in a campaign season complicated by pandemic distraction and an unusual primary date, in June, rather than September. To that end, Mayor Bill de Blasio and the city’s chief democracy officer (yes, New York has a chief democracy officer), Laura Wood, introduced the “Rank Your Pizza’’ challenge, an interactive exercise meant to foster a comfort with listing things according to preference. What many of us learned from this is that the mayor who came in controversially eating pizza with a fork is leaving with a dubious affinity for green peppers over pepperoni (which took a dismal fifth place in his hierarchy).Early voting, which began on June 12, could also have been made easier. So far, the lines have been fairly short, which may reflect the fact that, post-vaccination, many people are perfectly fine with voting on a crowded Primary Day — or it may suggest glitches in the roll out or just the ongoing sense of apathy that has distinguished this race. Although the Board of Elections was pushed to open more early voting sites, Ms. Wood told me, they are not in every instance conveniently located. Some voters in Greenwich Village, for example, are assigned to a site in Hudson Yards.Every mayor is imperfect in his own way, and during periods of modern crisis, the city has not always elected the best person for the office. But it has managed to elect people who have left important and unforgettable imprints: Koch in the late ’70s, who helped to revive the Bronx from the ashes, building thousands of units of affordable housing; David Dinkins as the city’s first Black mayor and Michael Bloomberg in 2001, who redefined development, expanded parkland and grew the tourist industry to record-breaking numbers. What we get next is still anyone’s guess. More

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    These 8 Democrats Want to Be Mayor of New York City. We Have Questions.

    “How’s it going?”
    “Thought we’d make an entrance.”
    “Hello, everyone.”
    “How you living?”
    “OK, let’s go through this way.”
    [music]
    “Am I just going
    to the chair?”
    “There’s lot of cameras.”
    “I could go into
    the movie business
    I feel pretty good.”
    “I’ve never walked
    out on an interview yet.”
    “All right.
    Tell me what you need.”
    “So starting with pandemic.”
    “What is the first
    thing you would
    do to help
    New York City recover?”
    “Systemic racism.”
    “Educational losses.”
    “Amazon headquarters.”
    “A car-free Manhattan.”
    “What is the key to improving
    public transportation?”
    “Police reform.”
    “Traffic congestion.”
    “Climate change, in general.”
    “That’s an interesting way to ask it.”
    “Do I get choices?
    Do I get to choose
    amongst my answers?”
    “I don’t talk as much as
    the other guys.”
    “That is a secret.”
    “I know, what does that say about me?”
    “Do you want me to
    expound on that?”
    “No questions about my cats?” More

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    Keisha Lance Bottoms Won’t Seek Second Term as Atlanta Mayor

    Ms. Bottoms, who was mentioned briefly as a potential running mate with President Biden, is the latest mayor to move on after a year of pandemic challenges and social justice protests.ATLANTA — Keisha Lance Bottoms, the first-term Atlanta mayor who rose to national prominence this past year with her stern yet empathetic televised message to protesters but has struggled to rein in her city’s spike in violent crime, will not seek a second term in office, according to two people who were on a Zoom call with the mayor on Thursday night.The news shocked the political world in Atlanta, the most important city in the Southeast and one where the mayoral seat has been filled by African-American leaders since 1974, burnishing its reputation as a mecca for Black culture and political power.It is unclear why Ms. Bottoms, a Democrat, is not seeking another term, but 2020 took a toll on mayors nationwide. It was one of the most tumultuous years for American cities since the 1960s, with the social and economic disruptions of the coronavirus pandemic as well as racial justice protests that sometimes turned destructive.In November, St. Louis’s mayor at the time, Lyda Krewson, announced she would not pursue a second term. A month later, Mayor Jenny Durkan of Seattle announced she would not run for re-election. Several mayors in smaller cities have also declined to run again, exhausted or demoralized by the ravages of 2020.Two contenders who have been seeking to unseat Ms. Bottoms in the November election have promised to do a better job fighting what Ms. Bottoms has called a “Covid crime wave,” which includes a 58 percent spike in homicides in 2020.But Ms. Bottoms, 51, was expected to mount a formidable defense. She has a loyal ally in President Biden, whom she was early to endorse, and who repaid her loyalty with an appearance at a virtual fund-raiser in March. Ms. Bottoms was mentioned briefly as a potential vice-presidential running mate and said that she later turned down a cabinet-level position in the Biden administration.Ms. Bottoms, who served as a judge and a city councilwoman before being sworn in as mayor in 2018, is also blessed with a voice — measured, compassionate, slightly bruised and steeped in her experience as a Black daughter and Black mother — that seemed uniquely calibrated to address the challenges of the past year.It was in the aftermath of the police killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis that Ms. Bottoms went on live television and became a national star as she spoke directly to protesters. Some of their demonstrations had descended into lawlessness, with people smashing windows, spray-painting property and jumping on police cars.“When I saw the murder of George Floyd, I hurt like a mother would hurt,” she said. Then she scolded the protesters, insisting that they “go home” and study the precepts of nonviolence as practiced by the leaders of the civil rights movement. More

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    Many Mayors Cite Covid Burnout as a Reason for Their Exit

    Local officials nationwide are announcing plans to step back from elected office. Many offer the same explanation: Covid burnout.NEWBURYPORT, Mass. — Donna Holaday is the kind of mayor who does not say no to an invitation.She shows up for lesser ribbon cuttings, at Radiant U Esthetics and the Angry Donut. She is there for the dinky parades, three or four blocks to the waterfront and back. Funerals, fund-raisers, National Honor Society inductions, she does them all.Over four terms as mayor of Newburyport, a coastal city of around 17,000, she learned that she could always perk herself up by getting up on a podium, reflecting back the energy of a roomful of people. Not this past year.“There is nothing. Nothing on my calendar. It’s just the way it has been for a year,” said Ms. Holaday, 66. Through the shutdown, she made a point of spending the day in her empty City Hall, if only so people could see the light on in her office.But they were long days she described as “Whac-a-Mole, you take care of one thing and 15 things pop up.” And the calls she fielded were not about normal problems, like trash collection or snow removal, but matters of profound suffering: a loved one forced to die in solitude, or families running out of food.“It was so traumatic, with people calling us crying, distressed,” said Ms. Holaday, who has announced she will not run for a fifth term. “I was sitting in my corner office feeling quite alone, there is no question about it.”Though coronavirus cases are down from their winter peak and several states are well into the reopening process, many mayors are leaving their posts because of burnout.Damian Strohmeyer for The New York TimesIt has been an exhausting season for America’s mayors.Mayors are hands-on officials in the best of times, barraged with criticism and individual pleas for help. Over the last year, they found themselves weighing matters of life or death — devastating local businesses by prolonging shutdowns, canceling gatherings treasured by voters, unable to provide comfort by being there in person.And this spring, many American mayors are explaining their decision to leave office with the same reason: that the pandemic response demanded so much that they could not both campaign and perform their duties; or that the work had become so stressful that their families had recommended that they step away.“They are just spent,” said Katharine Lusk, executive director of Boston University’s Initiative on Cities, which carries out an annual survey of mayors. Mayors surveyed last summer expressed deep anxiety about the effects of lost tax revenue on their budgets, as they juggled the pandemic, economic recovery and their core responsibilities.Meanwhile, Ms. Lusk said, the positive aspects of the job were stripped away.“They will tell you it’s the most personal job in politics,” she said. “If you can’t interact with the community, all of the things that sort of fuel mayors — the inputs that build up that reservoir of energy — that aspect of the job has been taken from them.”There is little national data on local elections, so it is impossible to say whether this year’s turnover of mayors is unusual. In Massachusetts, nearly a fifth of the state’s mayors have announced they will not run again, as CommonWealth, a politics journal, reported, but that is not an unusual portion, according to the Massachusetts Municipal Association.Decisions to step down are rarely made for one reason, and the year has increased pressure on leaders on many fronts, including conflicts over policing and racial justice. Among those who have offered an explanation, however, Covid fatigue comes up a lot. Michelle De La Isla, the mayor of Topeka, Kan., told The Topeka Capital-Journal that campaigning would make her workload unmanageable, and there “there was no way I was going to be able to do this at the same time” as heading coronavirus response.Mayor Grover C. Robinson IV, of Pensacola, Fla., said he decided not to run out of frustration with the politicized reaction to health directives, after returning from a vacation and attending yet another contentious meeting. Similar explanations have come from the mayors of Highland, Ill., Pascagoula, Miss., and Seattle, among others.Thomas M. McGee, the mayor of Lynn, Mass., a large, blue-collar city north of Boston, described parts of last year as “a blur,” as the virus raced through crowded neighborhoods that were home to multiple generations of families.Lynn was classified as a high-risk zone for all but two weeks of the past year, and the sense of crisis has never abated, even now that the vaccination drive is underway.“Do you remember the terrible earthquake and tsunami in Thailand? I feel like we’re running on the beach, up to a higher ground, and the tsunami is behind us,” he said. “Are we going to get to higher ground before the pandemic comes rushing back in and surges over us?”Mayor Thomas McGee of Lynn, Mass., is also stepping down. He described parts of last year as a blur and said the sense of crisis never abated.Damian Strohmeyer for The New York TimesMr. McGee, a Democrat, ran for mayor of Lynn, his hometown, in 2016, after 22 years in the State Legislature. But nothing, he said, prepared him for the intensity of being a mayor last year.“After 27 years and this, in some ways, lost year,” he said, “my family was like: ‘You’re stressed. It’s really had a substantial impact on you. And we’ll support you 100 percent whatever you want to do. But we think you should consider making a step back.’”Mr. McGee’s account of the past year is laced with frustration at the federal government, which he said left local officials to cope with a fast-moving public health emergency, while former President Donald J. Trump contradicted basic messaging about safety.“It became apparent, and I’d say it on calls, and while we were making decisions, ‘You know, we’re on our own here,’” he said. “They left a lot of us in the lurch, and we were left to really kind of navigate this on our own.”His frustration was echoed by Joseph A. Curtatone, 54, the mayor of Somerville, Mass., a city of 81,000, who is leaving office after nearly 18 years, amid speculation that he will run for governor.“We’re the first to hear if someone has lost a loved one, we’re the first to hear if someone is being evicted and has no place to live,” he said, joking that his brief moments of relief came when he was allowed to talk about snowstorms.Mayors, Mr. Curtatone said, were forced to coordinate policies on such grave matters as shutdowns and school closings among themselves, putting collective pressure on the state government to follow their lead.“Trump pushed it onto the states, and they pushed it onto the cities and towns,” he said.Nearly two-thirds of big-city mayors are Democrats, many in Republican-controlled states whose leaders were more skeptical of shutdowns and mask mandates.That tension has exacerbated mayors’ “sense of being embattled,” even as coronavirus case numbers decline, said Ms. Lusk, of Boston University’s Initiative on Cities.Jospeh Curtatone, the mayor of Somerville, Mass., is leaving office after four terms.Damian Strohmeyer for The New York Times“I think the cyclicality of the pandemic meant they’ve never been able to let their guard down, they’ve never been out of the woods,” she said.Thomas Bernard, the mayor of North Adams, a city of about 14,000 in the northwest corner of Massachusetts, said he desperately missed ordinary interactions, like reading picture books to schoolchildren.He recalled the holiday season as a difficult time, as he was forced to make decisions that, as he put it, “really strike at the spirit of the community.”“I was the person who stole fun from North Adams for a year,” he said. “It feels that way sometimes. I was making the decisions, like other mayors, that led to the cancellation of the things we all love.”He announced in February that he would not run for re-election — the second time in nearly 40 years that an incumbent mayor will not appear on the ballot — so that he could focus on containing the virus and rebuilding the economy.“I feel behind the curve on the recovery, and adding the campaign, it didn’t feel tenable,” he said. “It didn’t feel like I could bring the best of myself to all three of those things.”Mr. Bernard, who recently turned 50, is unsure what he will do after he steps down.“There will be days, as it gets more toward election season, and I’m not doing a spaghetti dinner, you know, I’m probably going to have a twinge,” he said. “There are going to be days — the last holiday tree-lighting as mayor, the last high school graduation — those are the moments I’m going to feel most emotional about.”“I wear my heart on my sleeve as it is,” he said, “but it’s going to be a complex flood.” More

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    Could Andrew Yang Really Be New York’s Next Mayor?

    Andrew Yang rolled up for opening day at Yankee Stadium on April 1 with the crackling force field of celebrity surrounding him. A bank of photographers and videographers walked backward before him. A small entourage of aides trailed behind. Fans, lined up for New York’s first professional baseball game with live spectators since Covid shut down the city, called out, “There’s the next mayor of New York!” and “Good luck!” People milled around to have their photos taken with him. Yang bumped elbows and gave high fives; it was the most casual human contact I’d seen in a year.When I asked Yang supporters why they want him to be mayor, I heard, over and over, variations on the words “change” and “energy.” “He’s young, he’s energetic, he’s a new face,” said Laivi Freundlich, a businessman and synagogue cantor from Brooklyn. “I’m tired of the old guard.” Some associated Yang, in an undefined way, with technological dynamism. “It’s a feeling,” said Thomas Dixon, a 61-year-old from the Bronx, about how Yang would “bring about necessary changes. Because like the country, New York City needs to move into the 21st century.”With about 10 weeks until New York’s mayoral primaries, both public and private polling show Yang ahead in a crowded field, though up to half of voters remain undecided. In a survey released by Fontas Advisors and Core Decision Analytics in March, Yang was the top choice of 16 percent of respondents, followed by 10 percent for Brooklyn Borough President Eric Adams. (Everyone else was in the single digits.) The Yang campaign’s private polling shows him with 25 percent of the vote and Adams with 15 percent.The essence of Yang’s campaign is this: He wants to make New York fun again. He has a hip-hop theme track by MC Jin and a platform plank calling for to-go cocktails — a pandemic accommodation for struggling bars and restaurants — to become a regular fixture of city life. He’s constantly out and about, cheerleading each facet of New York’s post-Covid rebirth. He was there the first day movie theaters reopened, taking his wife, Evelyn, to see Eddie Huang’s coming-of-age basketball drama, “Boogie.” But for a kidney stone that landed him in the hospital, he and Evelyn would have gone to an off-Broadway concert on April 2, the day indoor shows restarted.The day after that hospitalization, Yang was doing the finger-snapping dance from “West Side Story” down Brooklyn’s Vanderbilt Avenue. Several blocks were closed to traffic to make room for open-air bars and cafes, another pandemic-era policy that Yang wants to make permanent. The gentrified brunch crowd responded to the candidate much like the baseball fans at Yankee Stadium: People shouted, “There’s Andrew Yang!” and “Yang Gang!” and posed for grinning photos.His campaign will soon unveil a new slogan, “Hope Is on the Way.” It is planning a series of events to make up for milestones people lost during Covid, like a prom for high school graduates and maybe even a group wedding at city hall, where Andrew and Evelyn got married, for those who had to postpone their nuptials.On Thursday, I had an al fresco dinner with Andrew and Evelyn Yang at a Mediterranean restaurant near their Hell’s Kitchen apartment. He argued that there’s a serious purpose behind his campaign’s celebratory vibe. “We need to get tourists back, we need to get commuters back, we need to get the jobs back online in order for the economy to come back,” he said, adding, “I just want New York City to work again. And in order for New York City to work, people need to feel safe having fun.”Photographs by Adam Pape for The New York Times On one level, the idea of Yang as the mayor of New York City — surely one of the most complicated administrative jobs in the country — seems absurd. He has no government experience and has been so detached from city politics that he never before voted in a New York mayoral election. Before he ran in the 2020 Democratic presidential primary, he founded a midsize nonprofit, Venture for America, that set out to create 100,000 jobs. Vox reported that as of 2019, it had created fewer than 4,000. Nothing in his background indicates a special aptitude for running a gargantuan urban bureaucracy at a moment of harrowing crisis.Yet in a traumatized city, people are responding to his ebullience. Yang, said Chris Coffey, his campaign’s co-manager, is “giving people hope after a year of death and sadness and Zooms and unhappiness.” You don’t have to agree with Yang’s politics to see how powerful this is.About those politics: They’re pretty conservative, at least by the standard of a New York Democratic primary. Yang is pro-charter schools and has criticized the 190,000-member United Federation of Teachers for the slow pace of school reopenings. He’s slammed Mayor Bill de Blasio for not instituting a hiring freeze and is hesitant to raise taxes on the rich. Yang wants to offer tax breaks to companies that bring their employees back to the office, which those who like the flexibility of remote work might resent.A number of his plans depend on corporate partnerships. “There’s a lot of potential and pent-up energy among companies and leaders in New York who want a mayor they can work with, who want a mayor who’s not going to beat up businesses big and small because they’re businesses,” he told me.It’s hard to tell whether Yang is leading because of his pro-business centrism, or in spite of it. Many backers I spoke to view him as progressive, particularly those who associate him with the call for a universal basic income, which animated his presidential campaign. Some supporters don’t think of him in ideological terms at all. Others expressed not so much a desire for a right turn in citywide politics as doubt that the left has all the answers.“I think he’s progressive, but I also think he’s kind of pragmatic, so I think that’s probably what draws me to him,” said Maya Deshmukh, a dentist who’s also an actress and a comedian, after she posed for a photo with Yang outside an upscale Vanderbilt Avenue ice cream shop. “He’s Asian-American; I’m Indian, so I like someone who’s going to be in our corner.”I asked Deshmukh what she wanted from post-pandemic New York, and she said she wanted it to be more small-business-friendly, and safer. “Manhattan, there is some level of unsafeness that I feel, and I hope that that can change in a way that’s not going to continue to put Black and brown people in jail.”Some left-wing Asian activists hate Yang’s plan to combat a spike in anti-Asian hate crimes by increasing funding for the New York Police Department’s Asian Hate Crime Task Force, but there’s no sign that most ordinary Asian-Americans voters do. His campaign’s polling shows him winning 49 percent of the Asian vote, with the other candidates in the single digits.It’s not just Asian-American voters who seem excited about the idea of an Asian-American mayor. Cynthia Cotto, a 58-year-old Black woman who works at Catholic Charities, told me she decided to back Yang after video emerged in late March of an Asian man being beaten unconscious on a subway. Supporting Yang “says that we’ve got faith” that not everyone is racist, she said. “That’s why I want him to win.” But that wasn’t the only reason. “He needs a chance,” she said. “He’s young. We need young blood.”Yang makes a point of ignoring progressive social media, where he’s frequently derided as either a neoliberal menace or a clueless tourist. “One of the big numbers that informs me is that approximately 11 percent of New York City Democratic voters get their news from Twitter,” he said, referring to a figure from his campaign’s internal polling. “If you pay attention to social media you’re going to get a particular look at New Yorkers that is going to be representative of frankly a relatively small percentage of New York voters.”Still, other candidates hope that once they’re able to contrast Yang’s positions and experience to their own, his support will erode. “What we’re seeing is more about what names are recognizable, but the vast majority of folks are still saying, ‘I’m trying to make up my mind, I’m trying to get on top of this,’” said the mayoral candidate Maya Wiley, a former counsel to de Blasio. “What folks are looking for is not someone who shoots from the hip, but someone who actually has deep plans and policies.”Wiley’s spokeswoman, Julia Savel, has been harsher. “Our city deserves a serious leader, not a mini-Trump who thinks our city is a fun plaything in between podcasts,” she said recently.There’s much that’s unfair about the Trump analogy — Yang is no buffoonish demagogue — but there are also real parallels. He’s a charismatic novice with good branding dominating in a fragmented field of experienced political figures. Yang throws out screwball ideas — like putting a casino on park-filled Governors Island, which would be illegal — to see what sticks. He makes gaffes, but they haven’t dragged him down. He has a self-perpetuating way of sucking up all the media oxygen: to write about the Yang phenomenon, as I am here, is to contribute to it.Photographs by Adam Pape for The New York TimesThose opposed to Yang are waiting for something or someone to stop him, though it’s not clear who or what that will be. The political consultant Jerry Skurnik said of Yang’s lead, “It’s lasted longer than I thought it would, so it might be real.”The operative word is might. It’s still very early in the race. Ten weeks before the 2013 mayoral primary, it looked like the top candidates were Anthony Weiner and Christine Quinn, then the City Council speaker. This year will be New York City’s first time using ranked choice voting in such a primary, and no one knows quite what that’s going to mean. It could help Yang because he’s so well known, leading supporters of other candidates to pick him as their second or third choice. Or it could hurt him by consolidating the votes of constituencies Yang has alienated.John Mollenkopf, director of the Center for Urban Research at the Graduate Center of the City University of New York, is skeptical that the Yang boom will last. His “gut feeling,” he said, is that the energy around Yang is mostly based on the press appreciating “how he’s interacting with people when they see him, and not much beyond that.” Mollenkopf argues that mayoral primaries are hard to poll, since only a fraction of Democrats — around 20 percent in 2013 — vote in them.And he believes that celebrity and excitement don’t win Democratic primary elections in New York City. What does? “Having an organic relationship to the constituencies that follow city politics and depend on city politics,” he said, particularly “the various unions that represent people who are directly or indirectly dependent on government money, contracts, support for nonprofit organizations and so on.”In Mollenkopf’s analysis, the city’s politics, unlike the country’s, are still mediated by a thick web of institutional relationships. Yang agrees that this has been true in the past. He just thinks that this time will be different.“The more the electorate expands, the better it is for someone like me,” he said. “And I think the electorate will expand this time. And this is knowing full well that just about any time a candidate makes the case that the electorate will expand and that’s how they’re going to win, they lose.” He’s convinced that “there are a lot of folks who have not been plugged into New York City politics who are actually going to vote this time.”Not long after Yang said this, a young man walking by the restaurant did a double take, eyes widening. He pointed at Yang: “I am so excited for you to be the mayor, man!”Luke Hawkins, a 36-year-old actor and dancer, described discovering Yang on the Joe Rogan podcast. “I wish he were the president,” he said. “I can’t stand pandering politicians. Just the fact that there’s no BS, he’s just completely genuine.” Hawkins said he leans left but doesn’t like what he calls the “woke stuff” and viewed Yang as a “problem-solver.”So, I asked, would he definitely vote in the primary? “I frickin’ hate politics,” he said. “But I will vote for him.” Then he asked, “When is the primary?” It’s June 22. The future of New York City may hinge on how many voters like him remember.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More