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    Michelle Wu Is Neither White Nor Male. She Was Elected Mayor of Boston.

    BOSTON — Time to retire the tired old tropes about Brahmin swells, Irish ward heelers and the petty parochialism that for too long has defined this city on the national stage. A Taiwanese American woman from Chicago is about to become the mayor of Boston, a town that, until Tuesday, had elected only white men to that office.Michelle Wu defeated Annissa Essaibi George, a City Council colleague whose father is from Tunisia and mother was born to Polish parents in a German refugee camp.The election of Ms. Wu, a 36-year-old lawyer, represents a seismic shift to a political landscape in which “white” and “male” were prerequisites to be elected mayor since the position was established here in 1822. Ms. Wu will join at least 11 women (and possibly 13, depending on election results) as mayors of U.S. cities with a population of more than 400,000.Ms. Wu and Ms. Essaibi George, both Democrats, emerged in September as the top vote-getters in the nonpartisan preliminary election, which included not a single white man among the five candidates. By winning the runoff on Tuesday, Ms. Wu will succeed acting Mayor Kim Janey, who in March became the first Black Bostonian and first woman to occupy the position, after Marty Walsh stepped down to join the Biden administration as secretary of labor.It’s a long way from the Irish domination of the mayoralty that began in 1884 with the election of Hugh O’Brien, a native of County Cork. The office was held without interruption by men of Irish descent from 1930 to 1993, when Thomas Menino became the first Italian American to claim the job.That was almost 30 years ago, but like most caricatures of this city, the idea of Boston as more Irish than Guinness stout retains a stubborn hold on the national imagination. In fact, Boston has been a “majority minority” city since the turn of this century, when census figures first confirmed the percentage of non-Hispanic whites had dropped below 50 percent (to 49.5 percent). The latest census data shows the city becoming even more diverse, with the proportion of Asian, Hispanic and multiracial residents on the rise.That reality stands in stark contrast to images of Boston that are seared into memory — white women in house coats and hair curlers throwing rocks at school buses full of Black children, and a white teenage thug assaulting a Black lawyer with an American flag on City Hall Plaza during a demonstration against a federal court order to desegregate the public schools through busing. Those photographs are more than 40 years old, but their power to define the city as insular and racist remains undiminished.To be sure, the legacy of that era lives on in a school system abandoned by those opposed to integration, leaving behind a student population that today is only 14 percent white. Under Mayor Ray Flynn, control of the chronically underperforming schools shifted in 1991 from an elected school committee to a panel chosen by the mayor, a change many denounced as a move that disenfranchised minority parents. A nonbinding question on the city ballot Tuesday asked whether voters should again be allowed to elect its school committee, as voters do in every other city and town in Massachusetts (it looked poised to pass). Ms. Wu supports a hybrid model with a majority of the committee elected by voters and a number of experts appointed by the mayor.It is a measure of how much Boston has changed that Ms. Essaibi George, who grew up in the city’s Dorchester neighborhood and taught in the public schools, failed in her bid to brand the Chicago-born Ms. Wu as an outsider. Ms. Wu first came to Massachusetts to attend Harvard. A Suffolk University/Boston Globe/NBC 10 poll last month found that 59 percent of likely voters said it did not matter to them whether a candidate was Boston born and reared.The election of an Asian American woman will not erase the high cost of housing, the rise in crime or the racial disparities in education, wealth and medical outcomes that persist here, as they do in most major American cities. But Ms. Wu comes to the job with bold plans to address gentrification and climate change and to reform the police, many inspired by her former Harvard Law School professor and mentor, Senator Elizabeth Warren. Some of those ideas she cannot adopt unilaterally. Her proposal to reintroduce rent control, outlawed statewide by a ballot initiative in 1994, would require the approval of the State Legislature and Gov. Charlie Baker, who would most likely oppose it.And, for all the hype about the historic nature of this race — two women of color vying for mayor in a city whose politics have been long dominated by white men — public interest in the campaign was anemic at best. Many Bostonians sat out the election, with turnout not expected to top 30 percent of the city’s 442,000 registered voters.Ms. Wu should not be misled. Those stay-at-home voters will be paying close attention when she takes the oath of office in two weeks. Politics in Boston might just have gotten more diverse, but it is still this city’s favorite spectator sport.Eileen McNamara teaches journalism at Brandeis University. She won a Pulitzer Prize as a columnist for The Boston Globe.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

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    Eric Adams's Style: ‘Everything About You Must Say Power’

    New York City’s new mayor, Eric Adams, pays a lot of attention to what he wears. You should, too.Six years ago, Eric Adams, then Brooklyn borough president, stood onstage at Medgar Evers College in Brooklyn and thundered his commencement advice at the soon-to-be graduates.He exhorted them to “reach for the stars.” “You are lions,” he told them. They should always say to themselves, “I am possible.”But, he warned them, while you’re doing all that, do not forget, “When you play where the big boys and the big girls play, everything you do people watch.”“People look at your presentation before they take you seriously,” he said. “Everything about you must say power.”On the first Tuesday in November, as he strode to a podium in Brooklyn to declare victory in New York City’s mayoral contest, becoming the second Black mayor in the city’s history and chief of the power playground, Mr. Adams modeled exactly what that meant — as he has been doing since he began his climb toward Gracie Mansion. His white shirt was so pristine it practically glowed; his collar open; his cuff links closed.Mr. Adams in his signature look: Ray-Ban aviators, open collar, neatly buttoned jacket and pocket square.Andrew Seng for The New York Times“Whether he’s talking or not, he’s always saying something with his dress,” said George Arzt, a Democratic political consultant who was also Ed Koch’s press secretary. “And it’s: ‘I’m here. I’m in charge. I mean business.’”It’s unusual for city politicians to engage with questions of image-making. Most often, they actively avoid personal discussions of dress, believing it makes them seems frivolous or elitist. If they do connect with the fashion world, it is usually as an economic driver of the city or as the garment district: Michael Bloomberg handing Ralph Lauren a key to the city for investing millions in new stores; Bill de Blasio welcoming the industry to Gracie Mansion before fashion week. It’s usually just about business.Not for Mr. Adams.As he proved when he wore a bright red blazer to a Hamptons fund-raiser in August, or posted a photograph of himself in a new tower with the city’s skyscrapers spread out at his feet, his aviators reflecting the girders and gleam of the building, he is more than willing to use his clothes to stand out.And as the 61-year-old assumes his role as the mind — and face — of the city, a chaotic amalgamation of identities, politics, problems and possibility, at a time when New York is still recovering from a Covid-19-induced economic and spiritual nadir and after the social justice protests of 2020, he will become one of the most visible men in the metropolitan area. He can suffer that, or he can use it to his own ends.Mr. Adams, and his new earring, with Jumaane Williams, the New York  City public advocate, at a rally near Brooklyn Borough Hall.James Estrin/The New York Times“He manages to appeal to a lot of different people with a lot of different expectations,” said Nancy Deihl, the chair of the art department at the New York University Steinhardt School of Culture, Education and Human Development. “He’s really dressing for that.” It is a strategic deployment of dress that goes far beyond respectability politics into what might be called charisma politics.He is, Mr. Arzt said, a mayor “for the visual age.”There are still questions about Mr. Adams’s specific plans for New York and how he intends to accomplish them, but in this one area at least he has always been absolutely clear: What you wear matters. It has meaning and import. And throughout his career he has crafted his own presentation to bridge communities and interest groups, to assert his place in the room — and beyond.“It’s All in the Clothing”Just over a decade ago, when Mr. Adams was a state senator in Albany, he actually orchestrated a campaign featuring clothes.The goal wasn’t a run for office, but rather to get the male members of his constituency to stop wearing pants that appeared to be sliding down their underwear. Complete with posters and a video, it was called “Stop the Sag.”“You can raise your level of respect if you raise your pants,” Mr. Adams said in the video, wearing, The New York Times reported, “a gray suit, green tie and white pocket square” and framing the low-slung pants by contrast as participating in — and helping perpetuate — a continuum of offensive racial stereotypes that stretched from Aunt Jemima through minstrel performers.As to why any of this mattered, he told the paper, “The first indicator that your child is having problems is the dress code.”Ultimately, he said, “It’s all in the clothing.”A “Stop the Sag” billboard in Brooklyn in 2010.Robert Mecea/Associated PressSince then, clothing has played a key role in much of his public storytelling, where he uses it as a sort of universal shorthand, a shared language almost anyone can understand. Reciting his personal narrative, for example, he described taking a garbage bag of clothes to school in case his family was evicted while he was away (clothing as a symbol of homelessness). Commemorating his 22-year career as a policeman in his Twitter bio, he wrote, “I wore a bulletproof vest to keep my neighbors safe” (clothing as a symbol of the positive side of law enforcement). Dramatizing a life lesson, he told an apparently borrowed story about confronting a rude neighbor who ignored him until he donned a hoodie (clothing as symbol of racial prejudice and threat).And celebrating his electoral victory, he said, “Today we take off the intramural jersey, and we put on one jersey: Team New York” (clothing as symbol of unity).“He clearly knows a lot more about the subject than the average politico,” Alan Flusser, a tailor in New York and the author of “Clothes and the Man,” said of Mr. Adams. As to how he learned it, Mr. Adams said his role model growing up was his uncle, Paul Watts, a longshoreman who was always in “a hat, nicely pressed suit and shined shoes,” as well as his local pastors — though he has taken their lessons and made them entirely his own.According to Rodneyse Bichotte Hermelyn, a state assemblywoman and chair of the Brooklyn Democratic Party, “Eric’s style has evolved along with his career” — from police chief with an actual uniform to Brooklyn borough president with a quasi-uniform in the shape of the position’s official nylon jacket to today..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-1kpebx{margin:0 auto;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-1kpebx{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-1kpebx{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1kpebx{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1gtxqqv{margin-bottom:0;}.css-19zsuqr{display:block;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}.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;}Now, Ms. Hermelyn said, “He’s projecting New York City as the capital of the world through his wardrobe. But he’s also saying he grew up on these streets.”Indeed, there are a number of stories embedded in Mr. Adams’s current shirts and suits and accessories of choice.The Stories Clothes TellMr. Adams got his ear pierced in July after winning the Democratic primary because, he said, he had met a young man during the campaign who expressed doubt over whether any politicians keep their promises. When Mr. Adams asked what he could do to prove him wrong, the young voter said he could agree to pierce his ear if he won — and then actually follow through.“Day 1, living up to my promises,” Mr. Adams said in a video of the experience. Now he wears a diamond, which serves as winking symbol of his commitment. But also an effective counterpoint to his perfectly tailored suits, one button often neatly done up to smooth the line, which both advertise his fitness (famously achieved in part by going vegan after a being diagnosed with diabetes) and put him squarely in the tradition of Wall Street power brokers.“He wears clothes in a modern way,” Mr. Flusser said — closefitting, in the vein of Daniel Craig as James Bond, often without a tie — “but with classic flourishes from the past: shirts with cutaway collars, pocket squares.” Details, Mr. Flusser said, “identified with the highfliers.”Mr. Adams in Sunset Park in Brooklyn in late October.Andrew Seng for The New York TimesIndeed, Mr. Adams is so detail-oriented in his dress that his decision to largely abandon the tie (except at debates, where he favored a four-in-hand knot with center dimple) was clearly deliberate, another visual clue that plugged him into the evolution of the modern male dress code. Also notable is the “energy stone bracelet” he wears on his right wrist, composed of stones from Asia and Africa that supporters gave him, and his propensity for a white shirt.“The white shirt is a really powerful image,” said Ms. Deihl of N.Y.U. “It conveys impeccability, crispness and currency.”Together, she said, it all lays claim to a visual genealogy that extends from Representative Adam Clayton Powell Jr. through to President Barack Obama, whose black aviator Ray-Bans Mr. Adams adopted.“After I saw President Obama wearing a similar pair, I decided I needed these to make myself look cool — Obama cool,” he told New York Magazine’s Strategist. (Other preferred brands include Florsheim Berkley penny loafers, Joseph Abboud chinos bought from Men’s Wearhouse and shirts from Century 21.)Given that clothes are the unspoken and unwritten way we signal to the world our membership in a group, be it caste or class or profession, this particular collection of styles and names offers a medley of associations that allow Mr. Adams to be a master of the universe, a next-gen executive, a representative of the wellness contingent and the street-smart local, all at the same time. It’s a button-pushing balancing act that reflects both his chameleon-like politics and ambitions. For himself and his new role.“Part of the challenge here is perceptual — that New York is on the decline, that it is not healthy, that it is not safe,” said Evan Thies, one of Mr. Adams’s senior advisers. He noted that Mr. Adams “connects dress with confidence” — in himself and now, by transference, his city.His job is changing that impression. If he can do that through not only policy but (at least to start) sheer force of image — the “broken windows” theory made personal, all wrinkles ironed out — he may not just have won the election, Mr. Thies said, but “half the game.” More

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    Michelle Wu Makes Her Play for Boston Mayor

    BOSTON — Michelle Wu was weeks away from her first City Council election when she lost her voice.Her supporters watched apprehensively. Wasn’t it enough of a challenge that, in a city of backslapping, larger-than-life politicians, their candidate was a soft-spoken, Harvard-educated policy nerd? Or that, in a city of deep neighborhood loyalties, she was a newcomer? Now, at crunchtime, she could barely make herself heard above a rasp.But it became clear, when Election Day arrived, that they need not have worried. Ms. Wu, then 28, had put the pieces in place, learning Boston’s political ecosystem, engaging voters about policy, cobbling together a multiracial coalition. This was not about speeches. She would win in a different way.On Nov. 2, when Ms. Wu, 36, faces off against another city councilor, Annissa Essaibi George, in Boston’s mayoral election, she could break a barrier nationally.Though Asian Americans are the country’s fastest-growing electorate, Asian American candidates have not fared well in big-city races. Of the country’s 100 largest cities, six have Asian American mayors, all in California or Texas, according to the Asian Pacific American Institute for Congressional Studies.Ms. Wu campaigning at a community event in the Beacon Hill neighborhood of Boston in September.M. Scott Brauer for The New York TimesMs. Wu, a protégée of Senator Elizabeth Warren, began her political career in this city as it was turning a corner, its electorate increasingly young, well-educated and left-leaning.She proposes to make Boston a laboratory for progressive policy; to reapportion city contracts to firms owned by Black Bostonians; to pare away at the power of the police union; to waive fees for some public transportation; and to restore a form of rent control, a prospect that alarms real estate interests.“In nearly a decade in city government, I have learned that the easiest thing to do in government is nothing,” she said. “And in trying to deliver change, there will be those who are invested in the status quo who will be disrupted, or uncomfortable, or even lose out.”Critics says Ms. Wu is promising change she cannot deliver, since several signature policies, like rent control, require action by state bodies outside the mayor’s control.“Michelle talks, day in and day out, about things that are not real,” said Ms. Essaibi George, who has run as a pragmatic centrist and is an ally of former Mayor Martin J. Walsh. “My style is to be accurate in the things I say out loud, and to make promises I can truly keep.”Polls since the preliminary election have shown Ms. Wu with a substantial lead over Ms. Essaibi George.Ms. Wu will face Councilor Annissa Essaibi George, left, in Boston’s mayoral election on Nov. 2.Josh Reynolds/Associated PressOthers warn that Ms. Wu lacks allies within Boston’s traditional power centers and will run into resistance, even on everyday matters.Ms. Wu says that she is ready for those battles, and that the course of her life has compelled her, gradually, in the direction of taking greater risks. For example, she was not supposed to go into politics to begin with.A family unravelsMs. Wu was born shortly after her parents immigrated from Taiwan, intent on setting the next generation up for success.Han Wu, a chemical engineer, had been offered a spot as a graduate student at Illinois Institute of Technology. But he and his wife, Yu-Min, barely spoke English, and so, from the age of 4 or 5, their oldest daughter, known in Mandarin as Wu Mi, served as their interpreter, helping them navigate bureaucracy and fill out forms.At her suburban Chicago high school, she was Michelle. She stacked up A.P. classes, joined the math team and color guard, and earned perfect scores on the SAT and ACT exams. As co-valedictorian, she wowed the audience at graduation with a piano solo from Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue.”Her sister Sherelle said their parents encouraged them to range widely but expected mastery.“They always made us feel that we could do anything, but whatever we chose, we had to be the best,” Sherelle Wu, a lawyer, said. “You know, I could have been an artist, but I had to be Picasso. My brother played the cello, and he could be Yo-Yo Ma.”Ms. Wu, top right, with her mother, Yu-Min, her sister Sherelle, bottom left, and her brother Elliot.Politics, however, was off the table; their parents, raised by parents who fled famine and civil war in China, viewed it as a corrupt, high-risk vocation. They wanted Michelle to go into medicine, along a “pipeline of tests and degrees to a stable, happy life,” she said. When she left for Harvard — something her parents had hoped for her whole life — Ms. Wu was not sure whether she was a Republican or a Democrat.It was while she was at Harvard that her family came unraveled.Her father had lived apart from the family starting when she was in high school; her parents would eventually divorce. Her mother, isolated in their suburban neighborhood, began acting erratically, shouting at the television and dialing 911 to report strange threats.Ms. Wu, newly graduated, had started a fast-track job at the Boston Consulting Group when Sherelle Wu called and said, “We need you home, now.”Ms. Wu, right, at her graduation from Harvard University in 2007.Ms. Wu rushed home and was shocked by her mother’s condition. She has described finding Yu-Min standing in the rain with a suitcase, convinced a driver was coming to ferry her to a secret meeting. She examined her daughter’s face closely, seeking evidence that she was not an android.“You’re not my daughter anymore, and I’m not your mother,” Ms. Wu’s mother told her.Ms. Wu marks this period as the crossroads in her life, the point where she let go of the script that her parents had written for her.“Life feels very short when that kind of switch happens,” she said.Thrust into position as the head of the family, Ms. Wu, then 22, dove in. She became a primary parent to her youngest sister, who was 11, eventually filing for legal guardianship. She managed psychiatric treatment for her mother, who was diagnosed with schizophrenia, and opened a small tea shop, thinking her mother might take it over..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-1kpebx{margin:0 auto;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-1kpebx{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-1kpebx{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1kpebx{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1gtxqqv{margin-bottom:0;}.css-16ed7iq{width:100%;display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-align-items:center;-webkit-box-align:center;-ms-flex-align:center;align-items:center;-webkit-box-pack:center;-webkit-justify-content:center;-ms-flex-pack:center;justify-content:center;padding:10px 0;background-color:white;}.css-pmm6ed{display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-align-items:center;-webkit-box-align:center;-ms-flex-align:center;align-items:center;}.css-pmm6ed > :not(:first-child){margin-left:5px;}.css-5gimkt{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:0.8125rem;font-weight:700;-webkit-letter-spacing:0.03em;-moz-letter-spacing:0.03em;-ms-letter-spacing:0.03em;letter-spacing:0.03em;text-transform:uppercase;color:#333;}.css-5gimkt:after{content:’Collapse’;}.css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transition:all 0.5s ease;transition:all 0.5s ease;-webkit-transform:rotate(180deg);-ms-transform:rotate(180deg);transform:rotate(180deg);}.css-eb027h{max-height:5000px;-webkit-transition:max-height 0.5s ease;transition:max-height 0.5s ease;}.css-6mllg9{-webkit-transition:all 0.5s ease;transition:all 0.5s ease;position:relative;opacity:0;}.css-6mllg9:before{content:”;background-image:linear-gradient(180deg,transparent,#ffffff);background-image:-webkit-linear-gradient(270deg,rgba(255,255,255,0),#ffffff);height:80px;width:100%;position:absolute;bottom:0px;pointer-events:none;}.css-1g3vlj0{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-1g3vlj0{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-1g3vlj0 strong{font-weight:600;}.css-1g3vlj0 em{font-style:italic;}.css-1g3vlj0{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0.25rem;}.css-19zsuqr{display:block;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}.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;}Then, frustrated by the bureaucratic obstacles she had encountered, she enrolled at Harvard Law School, bringing her mother and sister back to Boston with her. This time, she intended to stay.A political baptismMs. Warren, who taught contract law, remembers Ms. Wu coming to her office hours in her first semester of law school.Ms. Wu had come to apologize for some academic shortcoming, though Ms. Warren had not noticed any. “She felt she hadn’t done her best and wanted me to know she had not intended any disrespect,” Ms. Warren recalled.As they sat together, Ms. Wu told the story about how she had come to care for her mother and sisters. Ms. Warren listened, marveling. “Michelle was doing something in law school that, in 25 years of teaching, I never knew another student to be doing,” she said.That marked the beginning of a close relationship between Ms. Wu and Ms. Warren, who would become Massachusetts’s progressive standard-bearer. Asked this summer why she endorsed Ms. Wu over other progressives, Ms. Warren responded simply, “Michelle is family.”Senator Elizabeth Warren campaigning for Ms. Wu in September.Philip Keith for The New York TimesIn law school, Ms. Wu began expanding her networks in government. During a legal fellowship in Boston City Hall, she designed a streamlined licensing process for restaurants and started a food truck program, attracting the interest of Thomas M. Menino, the mayor at the time.When Ms. Warren decided to run for Senate, Ms. Wu asked for a job on her campaign. John Connolly, a former city councilor who ran against Mr. Walsh in 2013, credits her with “a phenomenal, genius-level understanding of field politics,” similar to Mr. Menino in her “photographic memory of the nooks and crannies of Boston.”“She can tell you the six places Albanians socialize in Roslindale,” he said.She went on to win an at-large seat on Boston’s City Council in 2012, making her only the second woman of color to serve on the Council, after Ayanna Pressley.Almost immediately, she was in hot water with progressives. In the election for City Council president, Ms. Wu had pledged her support to William P. Linehan, a leader of the Council’s conservative faction and one of her early supporters.Shortly before the vote, Ms. Pressley jumped into the race, and it became an ideological showdown. A parade of progressive heavyweights tried to persuade Ms. Wu — at 28, the youngest councilor ever elected — to switch her vote. She recalls “thousands and thousands” of phone calls and emails that left her “in bed crying, devastated and shaken,” unsure she even wanted the position she had just won. Still, she did not budge.Ms. Wu working in her office as a city councilor in 2014.Wendy Maeda/The Boston Globe, via Getty ImagesThe vote cast a shadow over her victory: Many progressives saw her choice as an act of political self-interest, and conservatives, who repaid the favor by backing her for City Council president in 2015, were disappointed that she resumed voting with progressives, Mr. Linehan said in an interview.“She gets elected, and goes back to the people who were abusing her, because that was her political future,” he said. (He is supporting Ms. Essaibi George in this race.)Others in the city, though, recall watching the young politician with new interest, surprised by her toughness.“She is so nice, people sometimes mistake her niceness for softness,” Leverett Wing, one of her early supporters, said. “It showed she wouldn’t succumb to pressure. It showed she had the mettle to lead the institution.”‘She had a long game’Over four terms as city councilor, Ms. Wu has built a reputation for immersing herself in the nitty-gritty of government, reliably showing up at meetings on unglamorous matters.“The word that is coming to mind here is ‘methodical,’ and that’s almost dismissive — I don’t want to paint a picture of someone who says, ‘I’m going to be mayor and I’ll just tick all the boxes,’” said Chris Dempsey, an activist and former state transportation official. “It’s the consistency with which I have seen her show up and work on issues and build constituencies and start conversations.”She captivated young progressives with far-reaching proposals like a citywide Green New Deal and fare-free transit, campaigns she rolled out on TikTok, Instagram and Twitter, alongside dispatches from her campaign headquarters and her two young sons.“All my classmates started to talk about Michelle Wu,” said Benjamin Swisher, 22, a senior at Emerson College, adding that her candidacy “shows that young people can do it, that we have the ideas to push this country forward and create that new America.”Ms. Wu can be sharp elbowed, and often brought her criticisms of Mayor Walsh straight to the press or social media, to his irritation. In 2020, after she criticized a city coronavirus fund, he remarked that it would be better “if the city councilor just took time out of her schedule just to give me a call and maybe go on a call to talk to us.”In September 2020, she was the first candidate to declare a run against Mr. Walsh, at a moment when polls showed he was heavily favored to win.Four months later, President Biden chose Mr. Walsh as labor secretary, and the stars lined up.An M.B.T.A. coin pendant Ms. Wu had made into a necklace.Cody O’Loughlin for The New York Times“This has been thought out and played out and planned out for years,” said Peter Kadzis, a commentator for GBH radio. “She had a long game to get into the office, a much longer game than anyone I’ve ever known who has become mayor.”Her success at mounting an electoral challenge does not mean she will be able to perform well as mayor, her critics warn. She could face pushback from powerful players in the city’s development sector, who may seek to block her agenda.“The nuts and bolts of how that government runs, and the city workers — she’s going to have her hands full trying to control them and manage them,” said Mr. Linehan, the former city councilor. “Are you going to bring in some people from Harvard to manage them? You’re going to get a reactionary response.”“She’s Ms. Outside,” he added.Ms. Wu allows that there are challenges ahead. But no leap seems more vertiginous than the one she took when she was 22, and decided not to follow the plan that her parents had so carefully plotted out.“In some ways, maybe the biggest risk of all,” she said, “was choosing to step away from that.” More

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    8 Black Women Who Are Mayors in Some of the U.S.'s Biggest Cities

    When Kim Janey failed in September to qualify for the mayoral runoff election in Boston, effectively ending her time as the city’s top leader, her political rivals rejoiced and her supporters were dismayed. But her loss affected one group in particular: the collective of seven other Black women who are mayors of large cities. It’s currently a record number.Black women mayors lead eight of the 100 cities with the largest populations in the United States, according to data from the Center for American Women and Politics (CAWP) at Rutgers University. Their disparate communities stretch across both coasts, the Midwest and the South, from Boston, San Francisco and Chicago to New Orleans, St. Louis and Washington, D.C. Some of their cities have large Black populations but others do not. And the women have forged a quiet fellowship because of their relative scarcity and similar experiences of managing the myriad facets of a big city as mayors in a shifting political landscape.That these eight Black women have achieved this milestone is both remarkable and a long time in the making, say analysts of Black politics. The number of female mayors of any race in major U.S. cities has more than tripled in the last decade, from just nine in 2011 to 31 today, according to CAWP, which began tracking this data in 1997. But within that number, the rise of Black women has been particularly dramatic.“This is the age of Black women in politics,” said David Bositis, a scholar of Black politics and a voting rights expert witness in federal and state courts. “This has been culminating for a long time.”According to CAWP, the first Black female mayors of the 100 largest American cities — Lottie Shackelford of Little Rock, Ark., and Carrie Saxon Perry of Hartford, Conn. — were elected in 1987. Ms. Shackelford was in disbelief on her inauguration day, she recalled in a recent interview: “Is this really true? Is this happening?”Kim Janey, the mayor of Boston.Lelanie Foster for The New York TimesMuriel Bowser, the mayor of Washington, D.C.Stephanie Mei-Ling for The New York TimesBut for a long time, Ms. Shackelford and Ms. Perry were members of a lonely club. For decades, there were no more than two or three Black female mayors serving at the same time. That number only began to shift six years ago, rising to four in 2015, seven in 2018 and eight this year. And even as more Black women have won mayoral races across the country, the numbers of Latina and Asian American female mayors of major cities have continued to hover around one to three at a time.In interviews with the current Black female mayors — Ms. Janey in Boston; Keisha Lance Bottoms in Atlanta; Muriel Bowser in Washington; London Breed in San Francisco; LaToya Cantrell in New Orleans; Tishaura Jones in St. Louis; Lori Lightfoot in Chicago; and Vi Lyles in Charlotte, N.C. — all eight women said they were heartened by their collective achievement, but had no illusions about the barriers still standing in the way of Black women in U.S. politics.“It doesn’t mean that racism magically disappears. It doesn’t mean that sexism magically disappears,” said Ms. Janey of Boston.Ms. Bowser in D.C. was the first of the eight to be sworn in, in 2015. Ms. Janey took her oath in March of this year and Ms. Jones assumed office in April. Six of the eight — Ms. Breed, Ms. Lyles, Ms. Jones, Ms. Lightfoot, Ms. Cantrell and Ms. Janey — are the first Black women to serve as mayors of their cities.LaToya Cantrell, the mayor of New Orleans.Imani Khayyam for The New York TimesThis breakthrough moment may be a fleeting one. In Atlanta, a city where nearly half of the population is Black, Ms. Bottoms announced earlier this year that she would not be running for a second term. Two Black candidates — Kasim Reed, a man and the city’s former mayor, and Felicia Moore, a woman and the current city council president — are leading the race to replace her in the Nov. 2 election, according to a recent Atlanta Journal-Constitution poll. In Boston, Ms. Janey, who was appointed acting mayor earlier this year, came in fourth in the preliminary election this fall, failing to secure a spot in the runoff; the frontrunner to replace her, Michelle Wu, is an Asian American woman and a current city councilor. Even without Ms. Janey, though, the number of Black women mayors may not diminish. India Walton, a Democrat, is currently running for mayor of Buffalo; if elected, she would be the first woman — and first Black woman — to lead New York’s second-largest city.Political experts attribute the rise in Black female mayors, and Black women in other elected positions, to a number of factors, including a changing electorate, grass roots activism and increased support from so-called gatekeepers, including political parties, major unions and other organizations that can help boost a candidate through fund-raising and endorsements.This trend has accelerated in the last five years, Debbie Walsh, the director of CAWP, said: “There has been increased activism in recruiting and supporting women of color who are running for office, certainly on the Democratic side. More and more of these gatekeepers are engaging and seeking out Black women candidates.”One political scientist also points to young Black women’s early exposure to civic engagement through sororities and other clubs, describing their political rise as “Black girl magic.”“One of the things that I’m finding in my research is that the overwhelming majority of Black female mayors belong to a sorority — and they learned about activism in college because these sororities emphasize community service,” said Sharon Wright Austin, a professor of political science at the University of Florida and editor of the forthcoming book “Political Black Girl Magic: The Elections and Governance of Black Female Mayors.”Keisha Lance Bottoms, the Atlanta mayor.Anissa Baty for The New York TimesVi Lyles, the mayor of Charlotte, N.C.Liam Woods for The New York TimesEven as more cities have elected Black women as mayors, other executive government positions — for which mayorships of major cities have traditionally been steppingstones — have remained out of reach. No Black woman has ever been elected governor or president. Only two Black women have ever been elected to the Senate and, with the election of Kamala Harris as the nation’s first Black, female and Asian American vice president, there are currently no Black female Senators in office.Dr. Austin sees the increasing number of Black female candidates for these positions as encouraging nonetheless. “Before, it used to be that Black women didn’t run. They were the organizers and the campaign volunteers, but the men were the ones who were running for office,” she said. “But now you’re seeing Black women not only organizing campaigns and working in communities but having the confidence that they can run for office themselves.”Dr. Austin cited Stacey Abrams, who narrowly lost the 2018 governor’s race in Georgia, as emblematic of the kinds of Black female candidates who are shifting the balance. Ms. Abrams rose to prominence after her loss thanks to her efforts to highlight voter suppression and mobilize Black voters in Georgia, and she has been credited with helping to flip the state for Democrats in the 2020 presidential election and 2021 Senate runoffs.“You could argue that these candidates were unsuccessful because they didn’t win the election but you can’t really say that their campaigns are failures,” Dr. Austin said. “Because each time a woman runs, it’s sending a signal to other women that they can run, too.”Some experts say that perhaps no other politician has a more direct and profound impact on people’s lives than a mayor, particularly in cities that operate under the strong-mayor model of governance used in most major American cities (including all but one of the cities — St. Louis — currently run by a Black woman). In this kind of system, mayors can hire and fire police chiefs, manage the city’s budget, enforce municipal policy, negotiate city contracts and in some cases even oversee cultural institutions and public transportation.London Breed, the mayor of San Francisco.Bethany Mollenkof for The New York Times“Mayors are arguably the most important politicians in any American citizen’s life,” said Ravi Perry, a professor of political science at Howard University. “Everything that we actively deal with as citizens mostly is litigated and legislated at the local level.”Once in office, however, Black female mayors recounted how they’ve often found themselves continuing to battle the same stereotypes that made it so difficult for them to secure their positions in the first place. Many of the current mayors talked about experiencing everyday bias, from coded language and leading questions about their qualifications to more outright discrimination.Ms. Bottoms of Atlanta said she is often asked who is advising her — implying, she feels, that she is incapable of making decisions on her own. “It was not enough that I stood on my own two feet,” she said. “It had to be someone else or something else that was responsible for me.”Women in these executive leadership positions, and particularly women of color, are often held to impossibly high standards, experts say, making it harder for them to accomplish their policy goals or win re-election. “It’s a scenario we call a glass cliff,” said Ms. Walsh, the CAWP director. “Expectations are set too high. And then, when they don’t meet them, it’s a steeper fall for those women.”Part of the challenge for many of these leaders may also be the increasingly diverse electorates that have sent them to office, Andrea Benjamin, a professor of African and African American studies at the University of Oklahoma, explained. “Historically we know that Black mayors were first elected in majority Black cities. It took that kind of majority voting to get them in office,” she said. “You have to have a much broader appeal now, which can put you in a precarious position.”Lori Lightfoot, the Chicago mayor.Akilah Townsend for The New York TimesTishaura Jones, the mayor of St. Louis.Lawrence Agyei for The New York TimesBrought together by their mutual experiences, the women say they find solace in their bonds with each other. In moments of strength, happiness and adversity, they lean on each other.“There’s definitely a sisterhood there,” said Ms. Jones of St. Louis, adding that seeing strong Black women leading major cities bolstered her resolve in her own campaign.The mayors have text threads. They do group video chats and share jokes. They watch each other on T.V. and read each others’ statements, seeking lessons in leadership applicable to their own cities. Ms. Jones and Ms. Bottoms were in the same historically Black sorority, Delta Sigma Theta. Ms. Lyles even sent Ms. Bowser a baby gift.The support system provides a private space for shared insights, both professional and personal. “I think that all of us recognize that we’re walking in the same shoes,” Ms. Lyles said.In essence, the women lift each other up. For Ms. Bottoms, this sometimes means sending a text just to say: “Hey girl, I’m thinking about you. Keep your head up.”Many of the mayors also said they felt a sense of responsibility that extended beyond the realm of local governance.They know that millions of Black women and girls are watching them, seeking inspiration. When Ms. Janey of Boston takes video meetings, adults will often bring their children onto the screen — and when she acknowledges them, the children light up, she said.Karen Weaver, the interim executive director of the African American Mayors Association and the former — and first female — mayor of Flint, Mich., summed up the inspiring effect these women can have for young people: “If you don’t see it, you don’t dream it.” More

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    How Republicans Are Weaponizing Critical Race Theory Ahead of Midterms

    Republicans hope that concerns about critical race theory can help them in the midterm elections. The issue has torn apart one Wisconsin suburb.Little more than a year ago, Scarlett Johnson was a stay-at-home mother, devoted to chauffeuring her children to school and supervising their homework.That was before the school system in her affluent Milwaukee suburb posted a video about privilege and race that “jarred me to my core,” she said.“There was this pyramid — where are you on the scale of being a racist,” Ms. Johnson said. “I couldn’t understand why this was recommended to parents and stakeholders.”The video solidified Ms. Johnson’s concerns, she said, that the district, Mequon-Thiensville, was “prioritizing race and identity” and introducing critical race theory, an academic framework used in higher education that views racism as ingrained in law and other modern institutions.Since then, Ms. Johnson’s life has taken a dramatic turn — a “180,” she calls it. She became an activist, orchestrating a recall of her local school board. Then, she became a board candidate herself.Republicans in Wisconsin have embraced her. She’s appeared on panels and podcasts, and attracted help from representatives of two well-funded conservative groups. When Rebecca Kleefisch, the former Republican lieutenant governor, announced her campaign for governor, Ms. Johnson joined her onstage.Ms. Kleefisch’s campaign has since helped organize door-to-door outreach for Ms. Johnson and three other school board candidates.Ms. Johnson’s rapid transformation into a sought-after activist illustrates how Republicans are using fears of critical race theory to drive school board recalls and energize conservatives, hoping to lay groundwork for the 2022 midterm elections.“Midterm elections everywhere, but particularly in Wisconsin, are pretty dependent on voter turnout as opposed to persuasion,” said Sachin Chheda, a Democratic political consultant based in Milwaukee. “This is one of the issues that could do it.”Scarlett Johnson in Mequon, Wis., in September. Ms. Johnson is an activist against teaching critical race theory in schools, orchestrating a recall of her local school board.Carlos Javier Ortiz for The New York TimesBallotpedia, a nonpartisan political encyclopedia, said it had tracked 80 school board recall efforts against 207 board members in 2021 — the highest number since it began tracking in 2010.Education leaders, including the National School Boards Association, deny that there is any critical race theory being taught in K-12 schools.“Critical race theory is not taught in our district, period,” said Wendy Francour, a school board member in Ms. Johnson’s district now facing recall.Teachers’ unions and some educators say that some of the efforts being labeled critical race theory by critics are simply efforts to teach history and civics.“We should call this controversy what it is — a scare campaign cooked up by G.O.P. operatives” and others to “limit our students’ education and understanding of historical and current events,” said Randi Weingarten, the president of the American Federation of Teachers.But Republicans say critical race theory has invaded classrooms and erroneously casts all white people as oppressors and all Black people as victims. The issue has become a major rallying point for Republicans from Florida to Idaho, where state lawmakers have moved to ban it.In July, Glenn Youngkin, the Republican nominee for governor of Virginia, promised to abolish critical race theory on “Day 1” in office. In Florida, Gov. Ron DeSantis, facing re-election next year, said recently, “I want to make sure people are not supporting critical race theory.” And in Arizona, Blake Masters, a Republican hoping to unseat Senator Mark Kelly in 2022, has repeatedly slammed critical race theory as “anti-white racism.”In some places, the tone of school board opponents has become angry and threatening, so much so that the National School Boards Association asked President Biden for federal law enforcement protection.Few places will be more closely watched in the midterm elections than Wisconsin, a swing state that Mr. Biden won by just over 20,600 votes and where Republicans would like to retain control of the Senate seat currently held by Ron Johnson, as well as to defeat Gov. Tony Evers, a Democrat.To succeed, Republicans must solidify support in suburban Milwaukee, an area of historical strength for the party. Recently, though, Democrats have made inroads in Ozaukee County, and particularly its largest city, Mequon, a mostly white enclave north of Milwaukee. President Donald J. Trump won the city last year with only 50.2 percent of the vote — a poor showing that contributed to his Wisconsin defeat.Now, with midterms on the horizon, prospective statewide candidates — including Ms. Kleefisch, Senator Johnson and the relative political newcomer Kevin Nicholson — have emphasized their opposition to critical race theory.Senator Johnson, who has not announced whether he will seek re-election, has talked about the importance of local elections as a prelude to next year’s midterms. He recently urged constituents to “take back our school boards, our county boards, our city councils.”Traditionally, school board elections in Wisconsin have been nonpartisan, but a political action committee associated with Ms. Kleefisch — Rebecca Kleefisch PAC — recently contributed to about 30 school board candidates around the state, including one elected last spring in Mequon.“The fact that this is being politically driven is heartbreaking,” said Chris Schultz, a retired teacher in Mequon and one of the four board members facing recall.Ms. Schultz relinquished her Republican Party membership when she joined the board. “I believe school boards need to be nonpolitical,” she said. “Our student welfare cannot be a political football.”Now, she thinks, that’s over. “The Republican Party has kind of decided that they want to not just have their say on the school board but determine the direction of school districts,” she said.Rebecca Kleefisch, Wisconsin’s former lieutenant governor, announces her candidacy for governor in September. Last week, volunteers from Ms. Kleefisch’s campaign organized outreach for Ms. Johnson’s school board candidacy.John Hart/Wisconsin State Journal, via Associated PressAgainst this political backdrop, Ms. Johnson, who calls herself a lifelong conservative, is waging her own battle in the district that serves 3,700 students. Ms. Johnson, 47, has five children, ranging in age from 10 to 22. Her two oldest children graduated from Mequon-Thiensville’s vaunted Homestead High School. Complaining about a decline in the system’s quality, she said she chose to send her younger children to private schools.Ms. Johnson first got interested in school board politics in August 2020, after a decision to delay in-person classes because of an increase in Covid-19 cases. Angered over the delay, Ms. Johnson protested with more than 100 people outside school district headquarters.“Virtual learning is not possible for the majority of parents that work,” Ms. Johnson told a reporter.The next day, protesters gathered outside the business of Akram Khan, a school board member who runs a private tutoring center.“There was this narrative that I, as a board member, elected to close the schools down because it would directly benefit my pocketbook, which is the farthest thing from the truth,” Mr. Khan said.He shut down his business temporarily as a result of the protests and is now facing recall.Things got worse. Protesters showed up outside the home of the district superintendent; relationships among neighbors began to fray. School board meetings, formerly dull affairs, dragged on for hours, with comments taking on a nasty and divisive tone.“We’ve been called Marxist flunkies,” Ms. Francour said. “We have police attending the meetings now.”Akram Khan is facing a school board recall.Carlos Javier Ortiz for The New York TimesWendy Francour, who is facing a recall, said school board meetings have gotten divisive: “We have police attending the meetings now.”Carlos Javier Ortiz for The New York TimesAnger grew over masks, test scores and the hourlong video the school system posted about race, one of two that Ms. Francour said were offered because parents had asked what to tell their children about George Floyd’s murder in Minneapolis.Led by two consultants, the optional online seminar for parents included a discussion of the spectrum of racism — from lynching to indifference to abolitionism — and tips on how to become “anti-racist” through acts such as speaking up against bias and socializing with people of color. It ended with news clips about Mr. Floyd’s death.Ms. Johnson, who grew up poor in Milwaukee, the daughter of a Puerto Rican teenage mother and a father who had brushes with the law, said the video ran counter to her belief that people were not limited by their background or skin color.“For me the sky was the limit,” Ms. Johnson said in July on “Fact Check,” a podcast hosted by Bill Feehan, a staunch Trump supporter and the La Crosse County Republican Party chairman.The Wisconsin Democratic Party recently provided The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel with deleted tweets by Ms. Johnson expressing nonchalance about the threat of white supremacy and accusing Planned Parenthood of racism.Spurred partly by the video, Ms. Johnson began leading an effort, Recall MTSD.com, to recall four of seven board members. Petitions were available at local businesses, including a shooting range owned by a Republican activist, Cheryle Rebholz.While the recall group insists theirs is a grass-roots effort, representatives of two conservative nonprofit organizations turned up to help.Amber Schroeder, left, and Ms. Johnson dropping off recall petitions in Mequon in August.Morry Gash/Associated PressOne of them, the Wisconsin Institute for Law & Liberty, is funded by the Bradley Foundation, known for promoting school choice and challenging election rules across the country.The organization stepped in to help Ms. Johnson’s group by threatening legal action against the city of Mequon when it tried to remove banners, placed on public property, that promoted the recall.Another volunteer with a high profile in conservative circles was Matt Batzel, executive director of American Majority, a national group that trains political candidates. Mr. Batzel’s organization once published a primer on how to “flip” your school board, citing its role overturning a liberal board in Kenosha, Wis.Mequon’s recall election is Nov. 2. One candidate is Ms. Rebholz, the shooting range owner, who wrote an essay arguing that, “If the Biden-Harris team wins in November, Americans won’t be safe.”Meanwhile, Ms. Johnson is branching out.She serves as a state leader for No Left Turn in Education, an organization against critical race theory, and has recently been named to a campaign advisory board for Ms. Kleefisch.She spoke at a Milwaukee event last month. The topic: “What is Critical Race Theory and How to Fight It.” More

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    Adams Commits to Keeping Gifted and Talented, But Leaves Details Unclear

    Eric Adams, New York City’s likely next mayor, rebuked Mayor Bill de Blasio’s plan to scrap the current system as he prepares to leave office. Eric Adams said on Friday that he would keep New York City’s elementary school gifted and talented program if, as expected, he wins the general election for mayor next month — a clear rebuke to Mayor Bill de Blasio, who recently announced plans to eliminate the program.“There’s a new mayor next year, that mayor must evaluate how he’s going to deal with the gifted and talented program,” Mr. Adams, the Democratic nominee for mayor, said in an interview with CNN. “He can’t get rid of it until next year,” he added of Mr. de Blasio.Asked directly whether he would eliminate the gifted program, Mr. Adams replied, “no I would not, I would expand the opportunities for accelerated learning.”In another break with Mr. de Blasio, Mr. Adams said in a radio interview on Friday that he supported requiring students to receive a coronavirus vaccine to attend class — an action the mayor has steadfastly resisted over concerns it could motivate some parents to keep their children home.“I say yes, if it’s F.D.A.-approved, we should also mandate it as we mandate with other vaccinations,” Mr. Adams said in the interview, with WCBS.As to the gifted program, Mr. de Blasio said last week that he wanted to scrap the current system, including an admissions exam for 4-year-olds that has been heavily criticized, and start over with a new one that offers an accelerated education to every elementary school student. Mr. Adams has yet to release his own plan for the city’s schools, and he has reversed course previously on at least one contentious education issue. But he made it clear on Friday that he was not going to let the outgoing mayor dictate a policy that has major implications for the nation’s largest school system. And although Mr. Adams, the Brooklyn borough president and an ally of Mr. de Blasio’s, avoided directly criticizing the mayor during the CNN interview, his comments appeared to betray some irritation that the plan had been announced barely a month before the election. Mr. de Blasio did not consult with Mr. Adams before releasing it. “There’s nothing to put back in place, because the next mayor must make the determination,” Mr. Adams said in the interview.Mr. de Blasio’s plan has elicited outrage among some parents who see the gifted program as a way of keeping their children enrolled in the public school system and as an alternative to struggling neighborhood schools. Many other families, as well as activists pushing to integrate the system, have strongly endorsed ending or overhauling the program, saying that it excludes too many Black and Latino students while weakening instruction for children in regular classes by removing strong performers.Mr. de Blasio is considering running for governor next year. Having won election in 2013 on a pledge to broadly reduce inequality in the city, he has been criticized for not doing more to reduce segregation in the schools and, more specifically, for not addressing inequities in the gifted program until the end of his tenure.About 75 percent of the 16,000 students enrolled in gifted classes are white or Asian American while 70 percent of the students in the overall system are Black and Latino, according to Department of Education data. The gifted program, which puts students on a separate academic track even before they enter the public schools, has exacerbated segregation in the city’s schools. Mr. Adams acknowledged the problem on Friday.“The gifted and talented program was isolated only to certain communities,” he said. “That created segregation in our classrooms.” Mr. Adams also said on CNN that all children should be assessed to determine whether accelerated classes were right for them. But he said such assessments would be a part of a broader plan to evaluate all students frequently, not just for academic strengths but also for challenges that might cause them to struggle in school. “We’re focusing on the gifted students,” he said. “They are going to be all right. How come we’re not focusing on those children with dyslexia, learning disabilities? We should be testing them periodically. That feeds our prison population. Fifty-five percent of Rikers inmates have learning disabilities.”Mr. Adams’s aides said he was considering delaying or altering next year’s test for screening 4-year-olds for the gifted program, and then seeking broader changes to the program the following year. His transition team will announce more details after the election, according to a person with direct knowledge of the work who was authorized to discuss it publicly. At the moment, there is no contract for administering a gifted exam in 2022 because an advisory board rejected the last one in a surprise decision. If Mr. Adams wanted to restore the test, he would need approval from the panel, which could again reject the contract.He would also have to move very quickly: If elected, he would take office on Jan. 1. His Republican opponent, Curtis Sliwa, has said that he would keep the gifted program.Under Mr. de Blasio’s plan, New York City would no longer admit rising kindergarten students into separate gifted classes or schools starting next fall. Instead, the city would train all of its roughly 4,000 kindergarten teachers to accommodate students who need accelerated instruction within their general education classrooms. Students who are already enrolled in the program would be allowed to finish, and the program would be phased out over five years.The National Association for Gifted Children criticized Mr. de Blasio’s plan in a recent statement, but praised his action on the test. The association said it was “supportive of the mayor’s plan to eliminate the one-size-fits-all standardized test to identify gifted students, as it often fails to recognize a significant number of Black, Brown and impoverished gifted students.” Many parents, including those whose children are enrolled in gifted classes or who support the program, have said the test causes unnecessary anxiety for young children, and has benefited some wealthy parents who can pay for test preparation for their 4-year-olds. Mr. Adams has been clear throughout the campaign that he did not plan to eliminate the gifted program. But he has appeared to take clear positions on education issues before, only to change his mind. As Brooklyn borough president, he was among the strongest supporters of a plan to eliminate the high-stakes admissions exam for the city’s so-called specialized high schools. The schools enroll tiny numbers of Black and Latino students, something that Mr. Adams has said infuriates him. A few weeks after standing alongside Mr. de Blasio to call for an end to the test, Mr. Adams reversed his position amid an outcry from some parents. He now says he wants to keep the exam in place. Researchers who study gifted education, including those who support the city’s current program, have said Mr. Adams’s call to expanding gifted classes would do little to diversify the program unless fundamental changes are made to the admissions process. Gifted programs in predominantly Black and Latino neighborhoods all but disappeared in many parts of the city after former Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg introduced a citywide test-based threshold for admission into gifted classes. Today, there are nearly twice as many gifted programs in Manhattan’s District 2, one of the city’s whitest and wealthiest districts, as there are in all of the Bronx, the city’s poorest borough. In order to change that dynamic, Mr. Adams would almost certainly have to make big changes to the admissions system. Mr. de Blasio defended his plan during a radio appearance on Friday, although he was not asked about Mr. Adams’s comments. The current system, he said, is “incredibly exclusive and unhelpful.” Emma G. Fitzsimmons contributed reporting. More

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    Democrats Can’t Just Give the People What They Want

    Over the 20-year period from 1970 to 1990, whites, especially those without college degrees, defected en masse from the Democratic Party. In those years, the percentage of white working class voters who identified with the Democratic Party fell to 40 percent from 60, Lane Kenworthy, a sociologist at the University of California-San Diego, wrote in “The Democrats and Working-Class Whites.”Now, three decades later, the Democratic Party continues to struggle to maintain not just a biracial but a multiracial and multiethnic coalition — keeping in mind that Democrats have not won a majority of white voters in a presidential election since Lyndon Johnson’s landslide victory in 1964.There have been seven Democratic and seven Republican presidents since the end of World War II. Obstacles notwithstanding, the Democratic coalition has adapted from its former incarnation as an overwhelmingly white party with a powerful southern segregationist wing to its current incarnation: roughly 59 percent white, 19 percent Black, 13 percent Hispanic, and 8 percent Asian American and other groups.William Julius Wilson, a sociologist at Harvard, put the liberal case for the importance of a such a political alliance eloquently in “Rising Inequality and the Case for Coalition Politics”:An organized national multiracial political constituency is needed for the development and implementation of policies that will help reverse the trends of the rising inequality and ease the burdens of ordinary families.Biden won with a multiracial coalition, but even in victory, there were signs of stress.In their May 21 analysis, “What Happened in 2020,” Yair Ghitza, chief scientist at Catalist, a liberal voter data analysis firm, and Jonathan Robinson, its director of research, found that Black support for the Democratic presidential nominee fell by 3 percentage points from 2016 to 2020, and Latino support fell by eight points over the same period, from 71 to 63 percent.At the same time, whites with college degrees continued their march into the Democratic Party: “The trends all point in the same direction, i.e., a substantial portion of this constituency moving solidly toward Democrats in the Trump era.” Among these well-educated whites, the percentage voting for the Democratic nominee rose from 46 percent in 2012 to 50 percent in 2016 to 54 percent in 2020. These gains were especially strong among women, according to Catalist: “White college-educated women in particular have shifted against Trump, moving from 50 percent Democratic support in 2012 to 58 percent in 2020.”In a separate June 2021 study, “Behind Biden’s 2020 Victory,” by Ruth Igielnik, Scott Keeter and Hannah Hartig, Pew Research found thatEven as Biden held on to a majority of Hispanic voters in 2020, Trump made gains among this group overall. There was a wide educational divide among Hispanic voters: Trump did substantially better with those without a college degree than college-educated Hispanic voters (41 percent vs. 30 percent).Biden, according to Pew, made significant gains both among all suburban voters and among white suburban voters: “In 2020, Biden improved upon Clinton’s vote share with suburban voters: 45 percent supported Clinton in 2016 vs. 54 percent for Biden in 2020. This shift was also seen among White voters: Trump narrowly won White suburban voters by 4 points in 2020 (51-47); he carried this group by 16 points in 2016 (54-38).”Crucially. all these shifts reflect the continuing realignment of the electorate by level of educational attainment or so-called “learning skills,” with one big difference: Before 2020, education polarization was found almost exclusively among whites; last year it began to emerge among Hispanics and African Americans.Two Democratic strategists, Ruy Teixeira and John Halpin, both of whom publish their analyses at the Liberal Patriot website, have addressed this predicament.On Sept. 30 in “There Just Aren’t Enough College-Educated Voters!” Teixeira wrote:The perception that nonwhite working class voters are a lock for the Democrats is no longer tenable. In the 2020 election, working class nonwhites moved sharply toward Trump by 12 margin points, despite Democratic messaging that focused relentlessly on Trump’s animus toward nonwhites. According to Pew, Trump actually got 41 percent of the Hispanic working class vote in 2016. Since 2012, running against Trump twice, Democrats have lost 18 points off of their margin among nonwhite working class voters.In an effort to bring the argument down to earth, I asked Teixeira and Halpin three questions:1. Should Democrats support and defend gender and race-based affirmative action policies?2. If asked in a debate, what should a Democrat say about Ibram X. Kendi’s claim that “Standardized tests have become the most effective racist weapon ever devised to objectively degrade Black and Brown minds and legally exclude their bodies from prestigious schools?”3. How should a Democrat respond to questions concerning intergenerational poverty, nonmarital births and the issue of fatherlessness?In an email, Teixeira addressed affirmative action:Affirmative action in the sense of, say, racial preferences has always been unpopular and continues to be so. The latest evidence comes from the deep blue state of California which defeated an effort to reinstate race and gender preferences in public education, employment and contracting by an overwhelming 57-43 margin. As President Obama once put it: ‘We have to think about affirmative action and craft it in such a way where some of our children who are advantaged aren’t getting more favorable treatment than a poor white kid who has struggled more,’ There has always been a strong case for class-based affirmative action which is perhaps worth revisiting rather than doubling down on race-based affirmative action.Teixeira on Kendi’s arguments:It is remarkable how willing liberal elites have been to countenance Kendi’s extreme views which ascribe all racial disparities in American society to racism and a system of untrammeled white supremacy (and only that), insist that all policies/actions can only be racist or anti-racist in any context and advocate for a Department of Anti-Racism staffed by anti-racist “experts” who would have the power to nullify any and all local, state and federal legislation deemed not truly anti-racist (and therefore, by Kendi’s logic, racist). These ideas are dubious empirically, massively simplistic and completely impractical in real world terms. And to observe they are politically toxic is an understatement.The left, in Teixeira’s view,has paid a considerable price for abandoning universalism and for its increasingly strong linkage to Kendi-style views and militant identity politics in general. This has resulted in branding the party as focused on, or at least distracted by, issues of little relevance to most voters’ lives. Worse, the focus has led many working-class voters to believe that, unless they subscribe to this emerging worldview and are willing to speak its language, they will be condemned as reactionary, intolerant, and racist by those who purport to represent their interests. To some extent these voters are right: They really are looked down upon by elements of the left — typically younger, well-educated, and metropolitan — who embrace identity politics and the intersectional approach.In March, Halpin wrote an essay, “The Rise of the Neo-Universalists,” in which he argued thatthere is an emerging pool of political leaders, thinkers and citizens without an ideological home. They come from the left, right, and center but all share a common aversion to the sectarian, identity-based politics that dominates modern political discourse and the partisan and media institutions that set the public agenda.He calls this constituency “neo-universalists,” and says that they are united by “a vision of American citizenship based on the core belief in the equal dignity and rights of all people.” This means, he continued,not treating people differently based on their gender or their skin color, or where they were born or what they believe. This means employing collective resources to help provide for the ‘general welfare’ of all people in terms of jobs, housing, education, and health care. This means giving people a chance and not assuming the worst of them.How, then, would neo-universalism deal with gender and race-based affirmative action policies?“In terms of affirmative action, neo-universalism would agree with the original need and purpose of affirmative action following the legal dismantling of racial and gender discrimination,” Halpin wrote in an email:America needed a series of steps to overcome the legal and institutional hurdles to their advancement in education, the workplace, and wider life. Fifty years later, there has been tremendous progress on this front and we now face a situation where ongoing discrimination in favor of historically discriminated groups is hard to defend constitutionally and will likely hit a wall very soon. In order to continue ensuring that all people are integrated into society and life, neo-universalists would favor steps to offer additional assistance to people based on class- or place-based measures such as parental income or school profiles and disparities, in the case of education.What did Halpin think about Kendi’s views?A belief in equal dignity and rights for all, as expressed in neo-universalism and traditional liberalism, rejects the race-focused theories of Kendi and others, and particularly the concept that present discrimination based on race is required to overcome past discrimination based on race. There is no constitutional defense of this approach since you clearly cannot deprive people of due process and rights based on their race.In addition, theories like these, in Halpin’s view, foster “sectarian racial divisions and encourage people to view one another solely through the lens of race and perceptions of who is oppressed and who is privileged.” Liberals, Halpin continued, “spent the bulk of the 20th century trying to get society not to view people this way, so these contemporary critical theories are a huge step backward in terms of building wider coalitions and solidarity across racial, gender, and ethnic lines.”On the problem of intergenerational poverty, Halpin argued thatReducing and eradicating poverty is a critical focus for neo-universalists in the liberal tradition. Personal rights and freedom mean little if a person or family does not have a basic foundation of solid income and work, housing, education, and health care. Good jobs, safe neighborhoods, and stable two-parent families are proven to be critical components of building solid middle class life. Although the government cannot tell people how to organize their lives, and it must deal with the reality that not everyone lives or wants to live in a traditional family, the government can take steps to make family life more affordable and stable for everyone, particularly for those with children and low household income.Although the issue of racial and cultural tension within the Democratic coalition has been the subject of debate for decades, the current focus among Democratic strategists is on the well-educated party elite.David Shor, a Democratic data analyst, has emerged as a central figure on these matters. Shor’s approach was described by my colleague Ezra Klein last week. First, leaders need to recognize that “the party has become too unrepresentative at its elite levels to continue being representative at the mass level” and then “Democrats should do a lot of polling to figure out which of their views are popular and which are not popular, and then they should talk about the popular stuff and shut up about the unpopular stuff.”How can Democrats defuse inevitable Republican attacks on contemporary liberalism’s “unpopular stuff” — to use Klein’s phrase — much of which involves issues related to race and immigration along with the disputes raised by identity politics on the left?Shor observes that “We’ve ended up in a situation where white liberals are more left wing than Black and Hispanic Democrats on pretty much every issue: taxes, health care, policing, and even on racial issues or various measures of ‘racial resentment’, ” before adding, “So as white liberals increasingly define the party’s image and messaging, that’s going to turn off nonwhite conservative Democrats and push them against us.”The result?“The joke is that the G.O.P. is really assembling the multiracial working-class coalition that the left has always dreamed of,” Shor told Politico in an interview after the election in November.On Oct. 9, another of my colleagues, Jamelle Bouie, weighed in:My problem is that I don’t think Shor or his allies are being forthright about what it would actually take to stem the tide and reverse the trend. If anti-Black prejudice is as strong as this analysis implies, then it seems ludicrous to say that Democrats can solve their problem with a simple shift in rhetoric toward their most popular agenda items. The countermessage is easy enough to imagine — some version of ‘Democrats are not actually going to help you, they are going to help them’.Bouie’s larger point is thatThis debate needs clarity, and I want Shor and his allies to be much more forthright about the specific tactics they would use and what their strategy would look like in practice. To me, it seems as if they are talking around the issue rather than being upfront about the path they want to take.Shor’s critique of the contemporary Democratic Party and the disproportionate influence of its young, well-educated white liberal elite has provoked a network of counter-critiques. For example, Ian Hanley-Lopez, a law professor at Berkeley, recently posted “Shor is mainly wrong about racism (which is to say, about electoral politics)” on Medium, an essay in which Lopez argues thatThe core problem for the Democratic Party is not too many young, liberal activists. The fundamental challenge for Democrats is to develop a unified, effective response to the intense polarization around race intentionally driven by Trump and boosted by the interlocking elements of the right-wing propaganda machine.Haney-Lopez agrees thatDemocratic messages alienate voters when they are predicated on a sense of identity that voters do not share. For instance, “defund the police” and “abolish ICE” are deeply connected to a story of the police and ICE as white supremacist institutions that oppress communities of color. In turn, this story depicts the country as locked into a historic conflict between white people and people of color. It thus asks white voters to see themselves as members of an oppressive group they must help to disempower; and it asks voters of color to see themselves as members of widely hated groups they must rally to defend. This framing is acceptable to many who are college educated, white and of color alike, but not to majorities of voters.But, in Lopez’s view,Shor weds himself to the wrong conclusion. As the Ezra Klein piece reports, Shor “and those who agree with him argue that Democrats need to try to avoid talking about race and immigration.’” This is Shor’s most dangerous piece of advice to Democrats. For Shor, this has become an article of faith.Lopez argues that the best way to defuse divisive racial issues is to explicitly portray such tactics as “a divide-and-conquer strategy.”The basic idea, Lopez wrote,is to shift the basic political conflict in the United States from one between racial groups (the right’s preferred frame) to one between the 0.1 percent and the rest of us, with racism as their principal weapon. In our research, this race-class fusion politics is the most promising route forward for Democrats.Steve Phillips, the founder of Democracy in Color (and, like Haney-Lopez, a frequent contributor to The Times), goes a giant step further. In an email, Phillips argued that for over 50 years, “Democrats have NEVER won the white vote. All of it is dancing around the real issue, which is that the majority of white voters never back Democrats.” Even white college-educated voters “are very, very fickle. There’s some potential to up that share, but at what cost?” The bottom line? “I don’t think they’re movable; certainly, to any appreciable sense.”Phillips wrote that hisbiggest point is that it’s not necessary or cost-efficient to try to woo these voters. A meaningful minority of them are already with us and have always been with us. There are now so many people of color in the country (the majority of young people), that that minority of whites can ally with people of color and win elections from the White House to the Georgia Senate runoffs,” noting, “plus, you don’t have to sell your soul and compromise your principles to woo their support.In his email, Phillips acknowledged that “it does look like there has been a small decline in that Clinton got 76 percent of the working class vote among minorities and Biden 72 percent. But I still come back to the big picture points mentioned above.”On this point, Phillips may underestimate the significance of the four-point drop, and of the larger decline among working class Hispanics. If this is a trend — a big if because we don’t yet know how much of this is about Donald Trump and whether these trends will persist without him — it has the hallmarks of a new and significant problem for Democrats in future elections. In that light, it is all the more important for Democratic strategists of all ideological stripes to spell out what specific approaches they contend are most effective in addressing, if not countering, the divisive racial and cultural issues that have weakened the party in recent elections, even when they’re won.Saying the party’s candidates should simply downplay the tough ones may not be adequate.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

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    David Shor Is Telling Democrats What They Don’t Want to Hear

    President Biden’s agenda is in peril. Democrats hold a bare 50 seats in the Senate, which gives any member of their caucus the power to block anything he or she chooses, at least in the absence of Republican support. And Senators Joe Manchin and Kyrsten Sinema are wielding that leverage ruthlessly.But here’s the truly frightening thought for frustrated Democrats: This might be the high-water mark of power they’ll have for the next decade.Democrats are on the precipice of an era without any hope of a governing majority. The coming year, while they still control the House, the Senate and the White House, is their last, best chance to alter course. To pass a package of democracy reforms that makes voting fairer and easier. To offer statehood to Puerto Rico and Washington, D.C. To overhaul how the party talks and acts and thinks to win back the working-class voters — white and nonwhite — who have left them behind the electoral eight ball. If they fail, they will not get another chance. Not anytime soon.[Get more from Ezra Klein by listening to his Opinion podcast, “The Ezra Klein Show.”]That, at least, is what David Shor thinks. Shor started modeling elections in 2008, when he was a 16-year-old blogger, and he proved good at it. By 2012, he was deep inside President Barack Obama’s re-election campaign, putting together the fabled “Golden Report,” which modeled the election daily. The forecast proved spookily accurate: It ultimately called the popular vote within one-tenth of a percentage point in every swing state but Ohio. Math-geek data analysts became a hot item for Democratic Party campaigns, and Shor was one of the field’s young stars, pioneering ways to survey huge numbers of Americans and experimentally test their reactions to messages and ads.But it was a tweet that changed his career. During the protests after the killing of George Floyd, Shor, who had few followers at the time, tweeted, “Post-MLK-assassination race riots reduced Democratic vote share in surrounding counties by 2 percent, which was enough to tip the 1968 election to Nixon.” Nonviolent protests, he noted, tended to help Democrats electorally. The numbers came from Omar Wasow, a political scientist who now teaches at Pomona College. But online activists responded with fury to Shor’s interjection of electoral strategy into a moment of grief and rage, and he was summarily fired by his employer, Civis Analytics, a progressive data science firm.For Shor, cancellation, traumatic though it was, turned him into a star. His personal story became proof of his political theory: The Democratic Party was trapped in an echo chamber of Twitter activists and woke staff members. It had lost touch with the working-class voters of all races that it needs to win elections, and even progressive institutions dedicated to data analysis were refusing to face the hard facts of public opinion and electoral geography.A socially distanced arrangement for state delegates at the 2020 Democratic National Convention.Erin Schaff/The New York TimesFreed from a job that didn’t let him speak his mind, Shor was resurrected as the Democratic data guru who refused to soften an analysis the left often didn’t want to hear. He became ubiquitous on podcasts and Twitter, where Obama posts his analyses and pundits half-jokingly refer to themselves as being “Shor-pilled.” Politico reported that Shor has “an audience in the White House and is one of the most in-demand data analysts in the country,” calling his following “the cult of Shor.” Now he is a co-founder of and the head of data science at Blue Rose Research, a progressive data science operation. “Obviously, in retrospect,” he told me, “it was positive for my career.”At the heart of Shor’s frenzied work is the fear that Democrats are sleepwalking into catastrophe. Since 2019, he’s been building something he calls “the power simulator.” It’s a model that predicts every House and Senate and presidential race between now and 2032 to try to map out the likeliest future for American politics. He’s been obsessively running and refining these simulations over the past two years. And they keep telling him the same thing.We’re screwed in the Senate, he said. Only he didn’t say “screwed.”In 2022, if Senate Democrats buck history and beat Republicans by four percentage points in the midterms, which would be a startling performance, they have about a 50-50 chance of holding the majority. If they win only 51 percent of the vote, they’ll likely lose a seat — and the Senate.But it’s 2024 when Shor’s projected Senate Götterdämmerung really strikes. To see how bad the map is for Democrats, think back to 2018, when anti-Trump fury drove record turnout and handed the House gavel back to Nancy Pelosi. Senate Democrats saw the same huge surge of voters. Nationally, they won about 18 million more votes than Senate Republicans — and they still lost two seats. If 2024 is simply a normal year, in which Democrats win 51 percent of the two-party vote, Shor’s model projects a seven-seat loss, compared with where they are now.Sit with that. Senate Democrats could win 51 percent of the two-party vote in the next two elections and end up with only 43 seats in the Senate. You can see Shor’s work below. We’ve built a version of his model, in which you can change the assumptions and see how they affect Democrats’ projected Senate chances in 2022 and 2024. More