Commentary on Bay Area issues
At last a role model worthy of the role. Ericka Dunlap, the black, reigning Miss America, is a University of Central Florida senior who plans to attend law school. She spoke at the recent Teen Leadership Summit in Tampa and didn’t mince words about education, ambition and values — including teen sex. To wit:
“I am not trying to be white; I am trying to be successful.”
“No guy from my high school can say he was with Miss America.”
You keep going, girl.
Wendy Ceccherelli, the city’s newly-hired director of arts and cultural affairs, is out and about getting the lay of the artistic land and a feel for the business community. Among her stops was a recent appearance at a CreativeTampaBay Salon hosted by Ybor City’s Brad Cooper Gallery. Ceccherelli, 48, recently relocated from Seattle. She impressed attendees as enthusiastic and open to ideas and suggestions.
She noted that the ultimate deal-maker for her was finding out that Tampa had a “Young, female mayor” who wanted to “create a buzz about a ‘city of the arts'” and was a true believer in Richard Florida’s “Rise of the Creative Class” philosophy. She later learned that “the cultural mix in Tampa was quite special.”
In her six weeks on the job, she’s been busy cataloguing what’s unique about the city — with an eye toward building on those strengths. Her eclectic list already ranges from Busch Gardens, the Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center, the St. Pete Times Forum and the new Tampa Bay Amphitheatre to the Columbia Restaurant (and flamenco dancers), the Tampa International Film Festival, Hispanic cultural roots and related networks — and even the Dragon Boat Races.
As for challenges, Tampa’s “car orientation” is a serious one — as is the lack of “critical mass in downtown.” There is, of course, no defined “arts district.” Galleries are scattered around town. In fact, Brad Cooper, nestled between Ybor’s Coyote Ugly Saloon and the Green Iguana Bar & Grill, could be Exhibit A.
And while everything from pushing for public art to expediting arts-friendly development is high on her agenda, Ceccherelli left no doubt as to her first order of business: the new art museum. It has to get out of the ground this year. It needs solvent sailing. It’s the key cultural catalyst for downtown, an important cog in the city’s economic engine and a Riverwalk linchpin. Recent fund-raising efforts have been encouraging.
“My top priority,” Ceccherelli underscored, “is the Tampa Museum of Art.”
In a later aside, she clarified that position for the benefit of those concerned that artists, per se, might be short shrifted as a priority.
“The museum is a city project,” explained Ceccherelli. “It’s part of my department. I’m putting it out there to make it clear to people we have a focus. But just because I have a top priority, doesn’t mean it’s the only thing I’m looking at.
“We need to figure out what it is we need to do to create a healthy environment where artists can thrive,” she emphasized. “It’s about housing and public art; it’s about noise ordinances, zoning and on-going financial support. The artist community is incredibly important.”
Ceccherelli also divulged the “secret” to Seattle’s success as a city renowned for its well-attended and plentiful arts events: “the weather.” As in cloudy and rainy.
“If you’re inside for nine months, you get stir crazy,” she impishly explained — with apologies to the Seattle Chamber of Commerce.
Mayor Pam Iorio has been in office a little more than a year now. Most observers would grade it a good start. She hasn’t exactly frittered away the mother lode of good will she debuted with. Many might even call it an ongoing media honeymoon — even if the mayor disagrees. (Officially, she does.)
Her persona is still positive, her public image still unflappable. “I love it,” she still says of the City Hall experience.
She tries to diffuse anything that’s less than lovable — say, the latest incarnation of Ryan Construction or smutty e-mail circulating in the parking department — early in her day. She speed-reads both dailies each morning between 6:00 and 6:20 A.M. “Whatever irritates me, happens then,” she acknowledges.
“I sometimes vent. But that’s what husbands are for. Then I drive to work, maybe talk to (Chief of Staff) Darrell (Smith) or maybe (Special Assistant) Fran (Davin). Then it’s all right.”
“What you see is what you get,” says Smith. “She doesn’t turn it on for the public spotlight. You won’t hear her raise her voice. She’s remarkably calm. She’s about logic and problem-solving and holding people accountable. She treats the public and the media as customers.”
The only scandal on Iorio’s watch has been in the housing department, and that was an inherited mess of arrant audits and criminal indictments. But the new mayor owns it, especially since it continued to fester through her first year. She then literally cleaned house, which is the best way to deal with debacles.
The mayor has a fairly lengthy short list of her administration’s first year accomplishments. They’ve been well chronicled in the media — including a 14-minute city video. What is worth underscoring here, however, is what tops that list.
She has hired well, she emphasizes, from Police Chief Stephen Hogue to Solid Waste Department Director David McGary. She also touts the diversity of her hires: of the 18 department head and managerial positions filled by Iorio, more than 40 per cent are minorities — blacks and Hispanics.
And, no, she doesn’t agree with those who feel she may have beefed up the bureaucracy with some of those hires, none of them at modest salaries. That’s because Iorio not only filled positions, but also added some, such as Paul Wilborn, the creative industries manager, Santiago Corrada, administrator of neighborhood services, Susanna Martinez, a full-time communications director and Davin, the special assistant.
“I’m proud that we’ve assembled a quality team,” says Iorio. “It’s about bringing in the best and brightest. It’s what I said I would do — to serve the public. I don’t think we added ‘layers’ as some have said.”
Co-topping that list of accomplishments is the effort at helping residents of East Tampa take back their neighborhoods from the druggies. The police crackdown on drug holes didn’t end with Operation Commitment, she stresses.
“I really credit the police and the community policing policy,” says Iorio. “They are going after the drug suppliers. You could drive to 29th and Lake right now, and you won’t find open-air drug dealing any more. And we haven’t seen any evidence that it has simply gone elsewhere. We monitor that.”
Some mayoral reflections and projections after 13 months in office:
*Criticism: “It goes with the territory. If it’s your watch, it’s your problem. Centro Ybor or hurricanes. I think the ‘inheritance’ angle has probably been played up too much by the media.”
*Civitas: “We cleared the decks day after day on that. I believe the development should have moved through the process. If there had not been a time constraint, it would be moving forward today. Right now we’re waiting to see what happens with (the federal) Hope VI (grant).
“On redevelopment, we will have to take the initiative and work with the private sector
Time was when economic development meant targeting favored industries and sending out recruiters with demographic data and glossy brochures in hand and tax incentives in tow. Those days aren’t history, but the economic-development envoys are now equipped with slick videos and Power Point presentations.
They also know that industrial-park chic will no longer do. In fact, unless you’re a New York or a Washington, you’d be well advised to have a solid strategy back home that positions your market as a beacon to creative people.
That was the candid message that Carnegie Mellon University Economics Professor Richard Florida brought to the Tampa Bay area last spring. Florida, the author of “The Rise of the Creative Class,” preaches the gospel of creative buzz — inventorying and marshalling all the ways an area can encourage creative environments. Critical spinoffs include reputations for tolerance, diversity and entrepreneurial opportunity.
Call it quality of life as economic-development gambit. Dr. Florida’s mantra is that modern economic centers can’t afford to be culturally challenged or indifferent to innovation.
“What I think is exciting about the Richard Florida phenomenon is that it is helping the business community wake up to the idea that arts and culture matter,” assesses Paul Wilborn, Tampa’s Creative Industries Manager. “It’s not just icing, but part of the cake.”
Most prominent among local true believers is Tampa’s Deanne Roberts. Her response to Florida’s presentation was to become the driving force behind CreativeTampaBay.
CTB is a movement with 501(c)3 (nonprofit) status. It has a Web site, an eclectic, 35-member board of directors, plenty of volunteers, revivalist enthusiasm and donated services and office space. It expedites research; brainstorms across disciplines; cross-promotes the market; publishes a weekly newsletter; holds salon-type gatherings; makes regional presentations; and helps sponsor cultural events. Its regional, three-fold mission is to accelerate the convergence of a dynamic entrepreneurial and technology climate, a thriving arts environment and vibrant places for people to connect.
“We want to become more attractive to innovative people and companies,” explains Roberts, the president of Roberts Communications & Marketing and immediate past chairwoman of the Greater Tampa Chamber of Commerce. “The 21st century jobs are going to take ‘knowledge workers’ — creative thinkers. If you can attract that workforce to your market, the companies will follow. That’s the paradigm switch that’s occurring that Richard Florida identified. In the old days, we chased companies. It was based on the port and the weather, and so on. Now all that still remains important, but the element that is critical is the people.”
And a number of those people — from software tekkies to sculptors — are already here. According to Roberts, some 29 percent of Bay Area workers qualify as the “creative class.”
In January CTB conducted six focus groups of young professionals (24-35) to find out what brought them here, and what it takes to keep them here. It’s part of national research — dubbed the “Young and Restless Study” — that also includes Memphis, Portland (OR), Philadelphia, Providence and Richmond.
“This is a very, very competitive demographic to attract to your market,” underscores Roberts. “Right now they are clustering in Austin and Atlanta.”
The onus, she stresses, is on the Bay Area to retain its best and brightest; woo back those who went away to college; and attract its share of mobile, young professionals.
In effect, CTB’s role is the same as more established counterparts in cities such as Cleveland (“Cool Cleveland”) and Memphis (“Memphis Manifesto”).
“It’s incorrect to assume that we want to be, say, Memphis or Seattle,” says Michelle Bauer, the president of CTB as well as executive director of the Tampa Bay Technology Forum. “We want to exploit in the most positive way the unique and authentic assets we have right here. We need to connect and communicate our assets to ourselves and the rest of the world.”
Adds board member Tony Collins, vice president, Tucker/Hall public relations: “People think this is just about artists. It’s really about how we harness the engine that will drive the next economic era.”
One of CreativeTampaBay’s strategies is to attract and retain young professionals and develop a base of future leaders imbued with “Creative Class” religion. To that end, The Greater Tampa Chamber of Commerce is cooperating with its new Emerge Tampa initiative.
It’s sort of a junior Leadership Tampa for those 21 to 35. And 21 is no arbitrary number. That’s the age of most college seniors.
Chamber membership is not required. Those interested can join via the Internet.
Emerge Tampa will feature four programs: Voice/public affairs opportunities; Connectivity/community affairs opportunities; Growth/career development; and Cool Stuff/meet-and-greet events tied to arts, sports and community outreach.
The relationship between mothers and sons is unique. Sometimes the impact is not apparent — or manifested — until years later. Several prominent Tampa Bay men reflect on that special mother-and-son dynamic.
When your dad is the late Red Pittman, publisher of your city’s flagship (Tampa Tribune) newspaper, you might think your family is pretty important. Arguably, they are. And that maybe you were too.
But for the record, that wasn’t the case for Richard “Red” Pittman Jr., now 48. His parents — especially his mom — wouldn’t permit it.
“They (Richard and his younger sister Katherine) didn’t trade on that,” recalls Red Jr.’s 78-year-old mother, Dada Pittman, a former teacher and Red Cross Director. “They never knew you could. What they did know is that they were expected to do well in school and raised to be involved in their community.”
As a result, Dada has been most proud that her son, First Vice President-Investments for Smith Barney, has committed himself to a myriad of community causes and activities.
“A lot of folks know him from Ye Mystic Krewe (and as a 2001 King of Gasparilla),” says Dada, “but he’s coached Little League baseball and soccer and been active in everything from United Way to St. Joseph’s Hospital.
“He’s also been a great hands-on dad to his (three) kids,” she adds with a nod of admiration. “I can’t think of higher praise.”
To Red. Jr., raising his own kids has been an exercise in implementing some of his mom’s “pearls of wisdom.” That includes, he says, “‘Don’t sweat the little things.’ She taught me patience and tolerance.” She also stressed, he recalls, “being a good listener,” “disciplining without raising your voice,” “having dinner as a unit” and “reminding your kids that ‘you’re on their side.'”
And “having a good sense of humor,” Dada animatedly reminds her son.
He hadn’t forgotten.
“I should point out that my mother can’t cook fish,” impishly teased Red Jr. “We were brought up Catholic, and that meant frozen fish sticks every Friday. That was as good as it got, thanks to Mrs. Paul’s.”
When your mom is referred to as the “Mother Teresa of Tampa,” you know the die is cast for public service. That is 79-year-old Delia Sanchez’s legacy — and the ongoing challenge for her son, Frank, 44.
“My mother is my hero,” says Frank. “Her life has always been about service. She just takes it upon herself to help people.”
Delia, whose husband Francisco passed away last year, has more awards than walls to bedeck and closets to fill. It’s the result of a Hillsborough County career in social work that ranges from helping jumpstart the Head Start preschool program to teaching migrant children to read.
In 2002, she received the prestigious Tony Pizzo Award from the Ybor City Museum Society. She was honored for, among other accomplishments, her lifetime of contributions to those in need.
“If I have a legacy,” Delia says self-deprecatingly, “then let it be service, justice and love of people.”
By any measure, her son has paid attention — as well as homage. As the Managing Director of Cambridge Negotiation Strategies, he is a Tampa-based international consultant. An attorney by training, Frank is a former U.S. Assistant Secretary of Transportation and Florida’s first Director of the Caribbean Basin Initiative Program. He ran unsuccessfully for Tampa Mayor in 2003.
He currently serves on numerous boards including The Spring, The Crisis Center and The Boys & Girls Clubs of Tampa. Frank also mentors a student at Hillsborough High School and acts as a Spanish-language spokesperson for the Shriners Hospital for Children.
“My mother,” he says, “always said to look for ways to serve a good greater than my own.”
To Delia, the torch has been passed.
“I’m biased as a mother,” she says, “but I’m proud that he has feelings for people. And he really means it.”
Shaun King was a record-setting quarterback at St. Petersburg’s Gibbs High and then at Tulane University. He went on to lead the Tampa Bay Buccaneers to within a game of the Super Bowl. Although he now plays for the Arizona Cardinals, he remains very much the hometown boy who made good.
To his mom, however, he was simply doing what he was supposed to be doing: using his talents to the utmost. To Carolyn King, 50, it’s always been about more than touchdown passes and winning records.
“God gives us all tools and talents,” Carolyn explains. “Then it’s up to us to nurture and maximize them. That includes reaching out to others through your gifts.”
If you get the idea that Shaun — and his younger siblings Cedric and Candice — were brought up in a religious household, you get the idea. His father, Sam, is assistant pastor of Tampa’s Peace Baptist Church.
“From an early age, she made it clear that ‘To whom much is given, much is expected,'” recalls Shaun, 26. “It’s about more than sports.”
While Carolyn, the director of administration for the Pinellas Opportunity Council, is an unabashed “Shaun King fan,” she says she’s proudest of his deportment off the field.
“He has stayed humble,” she underscores. “Any success he’s had hasn’t changed him; he’s nice to everybody. And I’m so proud of how he comports himself through the ups and downs of his career. There will always be adversity; you just have to grow from it. I love his inner person.”
The feeling is mutual.
“My mom is the most loving, caring person I’ve ever met,” says Shaun. “She keeps me grounded — and reminds me how much I’ve been blessed and how much I have to give back and hopefully inspire some young people along the way.”
Dick Greco has dined with presidents. He’s been mayor of Tampa four times. He calls Steinbrenner “George” and Gen. Franks “Tommy.” He’s a 70-year-old grandfather.
And his mother still checks up on him.
That would be 97-year-old Evelyn Greco, who still calls her only child to remind him “to be careful with your driving.” Which is typically the prelude to “Call me when you get home.” And for good measure: “You seem to be putting on some weight.”
“I think it’s funny,” says Dick. “Still calls me ‘baby.’ The other night I told her I was going to a party at Avila. She says, ‘Are you driving? Well, don’t drink then.’
“It comes from a good place,” he adds, “and I’m lucky to still have her.”
Over the years, he says, he’s learned more from example than counsel. His mom worked with his dad (Domenico) at the family hardware store in Ybor City. She also kept the books. Later, after Mr. Greco had died and she sold the store, Evelyn went back to work — at age 70 — keeping the books for the old Broadway National Bank. She finally retired — for good — at age 83.
“She obviously taught me a work ethic,” Dick says. “But I also learned that it was good to show your emotions; we hugged a lot. I learned to be fiercely loyal and polite. My mother is polite to everybody. It’s the way you’re supposed to be.”
Those traits became hallmarks of Dick’s political career, a long chapter that came as no shock to Evelyn.
“I’m not surprised he went into politics,” she says. “He likes to talk and he likes people. But I’ll tell you what I’m most proud of. I don’t follow all that city business. But what means most to me is that he was a nice, polite boy who worked hard — and it never changed. I must have raised him right.”
Rob Elder is president of Aston Martin Jaguar of Tampa. The dealership, ensconced on an $8-million, north Tampa nature-park-of-a-campus, is flush — with a client base that is as well heeled as it is well wheeled. It is one of only two dozen Aston Martin sellers in North America. The energetic 33 year old, who will sometimes take a $300,000 AM Vanquish for a test spin, has done very well.
He paid attention and has learned the business — from his mom.
That would be Irma Elder, the unlikely looking driving force behind his success.
Petite and soft-spoken, the
60ish mother of three was widowed in 1983 — and took over her husband’s (Jim) Ford Dealership in Troy, MI. She became the first woman to own a Ford dealership in greater Detroit.
The native of Xicotencalt, Mexico, also became an icon in the Hispanic community. The Elder Automotive Group is consistently in the top 10 of Hispanic Business Magazine’s leading Hispanic-owned corporations. Irma herself is a staple in Working Woman magazine’s annual list of highest-ranking women in America.
Today the Tampa operation is one of several dealerships under the Elder Automotive Group corporate umbrella.
“I think a lot of people didn’t think I would make it,” recalls Irma. She credits faith shown by Ford, hard work and “very supportive kids.”
“To my amazement, I loved the business world,” says Irma. “But after all is said and done, I’m a mom first.”
A mom whose instincts were the keys to success, says her son.
“You need to be a good listener, be polite and be able to read people,” explains Rob. “I got that from my mother. I also learned that it’s important to win, but there’s a right way to do it. Plus whatever you win, you win as a team.”
Call it the Elder Ethic. “Rob has done wonderfully well with the business,” underscores Irma, “but more importantly, he’s a good human being.”
Advice to Tampa City Council: Stick to your knitting — and wet zoning. Leave matters of national security — including the controversial Patriot Act — to those actually charged with national security. City Council is not an appropriate venue to vent — even symbolically — on such matters. Express your displeasure with John Ashcroft in November. Zoning variances, yes. Being at variance with national security levers, no.
Blight on: The fallout from Civitas, the 157-acre public housing plan by local developers that didn’t pass muster with the county commission, continues. Some commissioners got their skivvies in a knot over the way impact fees were waived and a low-interest loan to the Gatehouse Group was proffered. That means County Administrator Pat Bean’s short-lived honeymoon is officially over, and County Chairman Tom Scott’s credibility is shot.
The other night I took in “Crimson Gold,” an interesting, well-regarded Iranian film by internationally acclaimed director Jafar Panahi. It was part of the 10-day, 20-films-from-13-countries Tampa International Film Festival at Madstone Theater in Old Hyde Park Village. The theater was packed for the 9 p.m. feature, and many of those assembled stayed on for the follow-up Q&A conducted by festival founder Rob Tregenza of the University of Tampa.
The 2-year-old festival is a good draw, but the near full house was still a novel experience for those who remember the patron-challenged AMC version that closed shop last year on the same site. This is definitely not the Old Hyde Park Village movie house we used to stay away from in droves.
“We’ve been pleased with attendance since we opened (Nov. 26, 2003),” says General Manager Margaret Murray. “And it’s been steadily increasing from week to week.”
What has Murray “amazed,” however, are the number of members — 1,100. Of Madstone’s 9-theater chain, Tampa is second only to Atlanta, which has 1,200.
The explanation, says Murray, is in the feedback.
“Time and again, we’re told by people purchasing memberships that they are doing so because they ‘want us here,'” Murray says. “We said we will bring in more foreign and independent films, and that we are committed to being part of this community. And people have embraced that.”
What Madstone is doing filmwise, points out Murray, is “trying to get a really good mix.” That means balancing big-budget mainstream films like “Alamo” with foreign sleepers such as “Tycoon: A New Russian” and an eclectic indie-flix mix.
Madstone’s community outreach, including its hosting of the Hillsborough Community College Ybor Festival of the Moving Image, transcends festivals. Every other Wednesday at 10 a.m., for example, Madstone hosts “BYOBaby,” for parents, caregivers and activity-requiring toddlers. There are art shows and receptions; a monthly writers’ group gathering; and wine tastings. A small filmmaker holds production-crew meetings at Madstone, and Tragenza teaches a world cinema class every Wednesday that is hardly limited to UT students. And it helps to have a video game-free lobby re-configured for small discussion groups of adults.
“I think people have seen that we’re making good on our community commitment,” says Murray. “And I think they can see that we look at screenings as a kind of activism. Helping to better understand the world around us.”
The recent death of former broadcast journalist Ray Dantzler is a reminder of more than the passing of a respected news anchor and news director. It also reminds us that there once was an era when a local affiliate — the old WTVT, Channel 13 — actually devoted prime time to a nightly editorial.
Dantzler did them. He was no news reader, but a serious journalist who cared enough about the community to research the issues and take on-air editorial stands through most of the 1970s and ’80s. Dantzler’s commentary would be anchored near the end of each 6 p.m. broadcast.
These days there’s not enough room in the format for well-informed, thought-provoking opinion. Well, actually there might be if it were allocated from time spent on soft features, happy talk, self promotions, weather overkill and lead-ins to network reality shows presented as real news.