by Keith Laing, Atlanta Tribune: The Magazine
April 2007
With the Georgia General Assembly approaching the end of its 40 constitutionally-required legislative days, the issue that has drawn the most consensus is the amount of work that has been accomplished: Not much.
The 2007 session has been one of the quietest in recent memory. Although some controversy surrounded the Assembly’s funding of its statewide PeachCare insurance program and a proposal to allow counties to decide whether or not they wanted to allow Sunday liquor sales, nothing this year has reached the level of the debate surrounding the proposed voter ID law last year. That issue alone drew national attention and, today, has ended up in front of the Georgia Supreme Court.
That said, several black representatives – rookies and veterans alike – introduced legislation this year.
Weathering Change
In the nearly 25 years Georganna Sinkfield has served in Georgia’s House of Representatives, the only constant has been the changes.
Among them, Sinkfield says, is that representatives now keep important paperwork in their offices instead of in the trunks of their cars. They also answer phone calls on cell phones instead of in designated phone booths in the halls of the Capitol now, she adds.
And the changes have not just been physical, says Sinkfield, who first took office in 1983.
“The legislature (itself) has changed,” she says. “The composition is like night and day. When I came in, there were very few women and maybe 15 blacks. It was almost all white males. Now we’ve got as many as 50 blacks and probably as many women.”
Sinkfield, a Democrat representing parts of the city of Atlanta and Fulton County, adds that the state has changed, too.
“When I first went to the General Assembly, the state budget was $4 billion and Georgia had 6 million people,” she says. “Now, the budget is $17 billon and there are 11 million here. We went from 10 congressional districts to 14.”
Sinkfield has also watched control of the governor’s office and both houses of the General Assembly move from Democratic to Republican hands. After spending the majority of her career in the majority, she says the short end of the legislative stick is a different experience.
“I’m right back where was when I was a freshman,” she jokes. “I had a nice big office and I got moved to a tiny one (when the Republicans took over).”
More seriously, Sinkfield adds that her surroundings were not the only thing to change when power moved to the other side of the aisle in 2004.
“When the Republicans took control, the influence we could have on budgeting and legislation was much different,” she says. “It doesn’t mean that what you wanted when you were in power you got, but certainly the possibility increased tenfold.”
Still, Sinkfield says her tenure in the General Assembly has taught her a trick or two that have helped her advance her constituents’ interest.
“A lot of people think you have to get a bill passed, but it is just as hard to get a bill defeated,” she says.
Sinkfield adds that learning to live to fight another day is equally important, especially as a member of the minority party.
“When I came in, I thought the world was lost if I lost a bill that I thought was important,” she says. “You have to learn to be patient and don’t wear yourself out getting mad at somebody who didn’t support you on this particular bill. They may be your biggest ally later.”
But the biggest thing Sinkfield’s 12 terms in office has taught her is to be herself, she says.
“As a black woman, coming from the district I come from, I (have a lot to offer),” she says. “You have to bring what you represent to the table. You can’t be like everyone else, or else why come?”
Bringing her perspective as a black woman to the legislative process endeared her to African-American across the state, Sinkfield says.
“Reappointment resulted in (the legislature) trying to draw districts so that rural blacks could have representation up here, but when I came in, black folks all over the state looked at (black legislators from Atlanta) to represent them,” she says. “They mostly had white legislators that I guess they didn’t trust, so they were always calling us.”
Fellow veteran Representative Bob Holmes, who first elected in 1974, agrees, adding that it is a burden black legislators have always welcomed and should continue to embrace. Holmes, a Democrat who chairs the Atlanta-Fulton County delegation of the General Assembly, drafted the bylaws for the Georgia Legislature Black Caucus shortly after being elected.
“We have a special responsibility to black people, poor people and other minorities,” he says. “We’re supposed to be the conscience of the Georgia legislature. If we were not going to focus on those (people’s) issues, we didn’t need to be there. Those (people) that have long been neglected are our major responsibility. Our constituency is not just our district. It’s a larger constituency of ‘our people’ rather than just saying ‘I’m looking out for the 60,000 people in my district’.”
Holmes says that is what separates black legislators from others who walk the halls of the Capitol building.
“I don’t think most white legislators think that way,” he says. “Black legislators have to generalize and think more statewide.”
Still, Holmes contends that black legislators have to be careful not to focus entirely on minority issues.
“I don’t think we ought to be pigeon-holed because the other stuff is critical, but if other folks aren’t going to bring up (our) issues, we have to,” he says.
Holmes says the growing number of black legislators has another crucial role: Bringing unique perspectives with them under the Gold Dome.
“Georgia is a big, fast, growing state, but up until about four years ago, most of its leaders lived in the same communities they were born in,” says Holmes, a West Virginia native who attended graduate school in New York City before moving to Atlanta. “It was amazing to me. It was kind of like they had never been anywhere except Georgia. It was only recently that you had people who moved here and had leadership positions. (The old leaders) were the Good Ol’ Boy network and they ran things from their perspective.”
Holmes is careful to point out that such a mindset was not partisan. In fact, he says, the Republican takeover of both house of the General Assembly and the Governor’s office did little to change it.
“The more things change, the more they say the same, regardless of party,” he says.
Examples of this, Holmes says, can be found in MARTA and Grady Hospital, both of which are viewed as regional facilities, yet funded entirely by taxpayers in Fulton and DeKalb counties.
“Go to the (MARTA) stations and look at the tags,” he says. “You see Forsyth, Cobb and Gwinnett (license plates). DeKalb and Fulton are paying millions of dollars to subsidize the suburbs.”
Not everything remains the same under Republican leadership as it was under years of Democratic rule though, Holmes says. Like Sinkfield, he laments the loss of influence that accompanied the power switch.
“Many of the senior Democrats, like myself, were kicked off of committees they had served on,” Holmes says. “They replaced us with freshman and sophomores because we knew a lot more. In Congress, if you lose your committee chairmanship, you become the ranking member of the committee, but (Georgia Republicans) decided to kick us off because of our institutional memory. I was chairman of Education (when Democrats controlled the General Assembly), but when the Republicans took over, I wasn’t even on Education!”
“My ability to accomplish things has been diminished,” he continues. “I really can’t do much because of the dynamics (of being in the minority).”
Holmes adds that even when he is able to reach consensus with legislators on the other side of the political spectrum, he sometimes gets the short end of the stick.
“One of my big frustrations is not getting credit for things I do,” he says.
But Holmes, a political science professor by trade, understands that is the nature of the business he has chosen. “That’s politics,” he says.
Even still, Holmes says his tenure in the General Assembly has been worth it.
“I stayed (in the legislature) because I felt like I could do some good in the position that I was in,” he says.
Sinkfield agrees, although she says she never imagined serving a quarter-century when she first sought office.
“I thought that if I lasted 10 years, I would have been here too long,” she says. “I never dreamed I’d last this long. It’s unbelievable. I don’t know where the time went. Time went by and I got immersed in issues.”
That’s why Sinkfield says she feels good when she looks back on her 25 years of service.
“If I have to look at (my career) all over, I’d say I did more good than not good,” she says. “At the end of the day, if I can say that, then maybe it was worth staying.”
A Mission to Serve
Halfway through his first legislative session, Georgia Representative Mike Glanton is still adjusting to the General Assembly’s hectic schedule.
“I read somewhere this was a part-time position,” he says. “That couldn’t be further from the truth. My experience so far on a daily basis has been non-stop and very demanding. If you are serious about serving and serious about being available to your constituency, it requires and demands long hours and many sacrifices. I have learned very quickly that every issue is important to someone.”
Because of that, Glanton, an Ellenwood Democrat who also represents Jonesboro, Morrow and Lake City, says he’s also learned to be a better listener in his short stint in elected office.
“Constituent input is important to me,” he says. “Whether (it is) my personal viewpoint or not, I owe every constituent my undivided attention and the respect of listening to their concerns. I owe them a prompt and honest response.”
Sometimes that’s easier said than done, though, he admits.
“Maintaining a balance for my time between ministry, family, friends, constituents, and advocates for various causes, session, committees, subcommittees, law and policy research, organizational events, invites and yes, the media is no small feat,” he says.
Being a freshman legislator, Glanton says he also knows he has to bid his time before his voice can be fully heard in the Capitol.
“Coming in, I understood that as a freshman legislator in my first session I would be limited in my roles and ability to introduce and pass meaningful legislation,” he says. “My approach is to do the very best I can with what I have under the circumstances and to hopefully draw the attention of the current leadership to my experiences, abilities, and talents. It is my hope that through my demonstrated humility, devotion, dedication and commitment that I will become a legislator with the reputation of being dependable and a person who gets things done regardless to the level of importance, political party or personal reward.”
Doing so will allow him to not only survive, but to excel in a General Assembly in which he is a member of both the minority party and race, Glanton says.
“Even in a white male dominated, Republican controlled General Assembly and administration, I believe my message of inclusion and diversity and mindset of “mission accomplishment” for all Georgians will transcend partisan politics,” he says. “I believe this approach will afford me in the future if desired, to serve at the highest levels of our state government as an accomplished and proud Black Democrat.”
Glanton is not alone in getting his legislative feet wet this year. The Georgia Legislative Black Caucus gained 11 new members on Election Day 2006. Among them was Robbin Shipp, a Democrat representing parts of DeKalb and Fulton counties. Shipp, an attorney by trade, said moving to the other side of the law was not as easy as it would seem.
“It’s challenging becoming acclimated to a new system and processes,” she says. “The biggest challenge is understanding the process of how to get legislation from being drafted to a committee and then what you have to do to have it heard in committee.”
Even casting votes is not with out peril, she adds.
“We don’t have enough lead time in knowing which bills are going to be introduced on the floor for our vote,” she laments. “We have an idea of what’s coming down the pike, but we don’t know if a bill is going to be up for vote until we get into (session) that day.”
Luckily for herself and other freshman lawmakers, Shipp says, help is readily available.
“The Legislative Black Caucus, the Democratic Caucus, the Women’s Caucus and the Atlanta-Fulton delegation do a great job of highlighting bills so that we can preview them and be knowledgeable prior to voting,” she says “It requires a great deal of communication with your colleagues.”
Shipp adds that she is also learning by watching those who have walked the hallway underneath the Gold Dome backwards and forwards.
“They all are so wise,” she says in reference to veteran Black legislators. “The primary thing they all have to say is ‘be mindful of being true to your beliefs.’”
The veteran Black legislators also remind her of the burden she picked up when she was sworn in, Shipp says, without saying a word.
“I believe in addition to the responsibility you have to the citizens of your district, there is an added responsibility to ensure that you conduct yourself in a way that the ancestors would be proud of. I’m certainly mindful of the fact that when this legislative body was enacted in 1776, my ancestors were enslaved. They could only dream of someday obtaining full citizenship in their forced migratory land. Even as you come forward in history and freedom occurs, my ancestors could only dream of having a direct descendant in elected office. They go without name, but they gave their lives for us to have this opportunity.”
And it is not a gift to be taken lightly, Shipp adds.
“I am the inheritor of their dreams and so I have the responsibility to conduct business in such a way that is always reflective of acting dignified, being truthful and being an advocate, so that those who are in their graves can look down and smile and say ‘good job, my child’.”
To earn those kudos, Shipp says she plans to follow a simple rule she was recently reminded of.
“We went to a women’s conference and they were selling these inspiration signs that said ‘if you have to think about whether something is wrong or not, it probably is’,” she says. “I have three degrees. Education is great, but you also have to stay true to that God given moral compass that all the education in the world can’t give you.”
With that in mind, Shipp says that before she faces voters again in 2008, she will do her best to follow the golden rules.
“I just want to help somebody and do good for the citizens of House district 58 and the state of Georgia,” she says. “If I’m able to do that, the rest of it will take care of itself.”
