A People’s Mayor or ‘The Princess’? Accessibility Issue Dogs O’Connor

The relationship between freshman San Diego Councilman Bob Filner and Mayor Maureen O’Connor started badly on his first day at City Hall.

At his inauguration in December, Filner repeatedly called on the City Council to “expand our horizons to the 21st Century”--a theme that rankled O’Connor, who has often been criticized during her 22-month tenure as lacking vision.

“Mr. Filner, I want to let you know this council is one step ahead of you,” she said, putting the newcomer in his place when she got up to speak. “Us old-timers are not here without some idea of moving you into the 21st Century.”

During the ensuing four months, Filner, who is ideologically a natural ally of the mayor, has rarely been welcome in her office on the 11th floor of City Hall, despite his frequent requests for meetings. In that regard, Filner is not alone.

O’Connor’s style has alternately been seen as imperious, remote or simply insecure, and has won her the sobriquet of “The Princess” from critics. Her actions--and inactions--as mayor have rekindled charges of inaccessibility that have hounded her throughout her public career.

Although her supporters lavishly praise O’Connor for enhancing the average citizen’s access to City Hall, prominent business and civic leaders, local officeholders, community activists and even some of her fellow council members complain that they have repeatedly been snubbed when seeking personal meetings with her. On most occasions, they say, O’Connor does not even return their telephone calls.

Many say they have unsuccessfully sought face-to-face meetings with her for months, while others--accustomed to easy access to past mayors--bristle over hints from O’Connor’s staff that they can line up with the public for five-minute audiences in her monthly “Meet the Mayor” sessions.

Several council members lament O’Connor’s penchant for distributing memos filled with directives, as if she were giving orders to subordinates rather than consulting with colleagues.

Even O’Connor’s supporters--both inside and outside City Hall--have sometimes been alienated by what they see as her habitual us-versus-them perspective, a political modus operandi that brooks no criticism or policy disagreements.

“For someone who’s been in politics as long as she has, she’s incredibly thin-skinned,” said Jess Haro, a leading Latino activist who served with O’Connor on the council in the 1970s. “You simply cannot disagree with her. Once you do, you get frozen out. She’s unwilling to recognize that friends sometimes disagree--especially in politics.”

In an interview last week, O’Connor insisted that she is as accessible as most other officeholders, and dismissed much of the criticism as sniping from political opponents and “whiny Wandas.”

Divisions within the council are a political constant under any mayor, she said. Other complaints stem from routine schedule conflicts that sometimes bruise the egos of movers and shakers who, from O’Connor’s perspective, feel their “Top 200” positions give them an open invitation to the mayor’s office.

A Different Style

Moreover, O’Connor makes no secret of the fact that her style is dramatically different from that of recent mayors. In contrast to the usual cast of leading civic figures who typically filled past mayoral appointment calendars, O’Connor’s schedule is more often filled with unannounced stops at Little League games, community meetings and shopping malls.

“I’m more comfortable--and I will readily admit this--with the people on the street corners and in the neighborhoods . . . (than) with some of these so-called ‘leaders,’ ” O’Connor said. “They feel that because of their stature and . . . position, they’re the only ones that can mingle with the mayor. And this mayor mingles with the people in the streets.”

Most of the criticism of O’Connor’s style and performance is confined to political circles and does not seem to have seriously shaken the strong public popularity that makes her a prohibitive favorite for reelection in June.

“The average person doesn’t care whether Lee Grissom gripes about having trouble meeting with the mayor,” O’Connor said of the president of the San Diego Chamber of Commerce..

Within City Hall, however, access to the mayor is critical to council members. Although most of them say they enjoy a good working relationship with O’Connor, three--Filner, Ed Struiksma and Judy McCarty--are frequently at odds with her over her style and handling of the legislative process. Two others, Wes Pratt and Bruce Henderson, have complained about O’Connor’s handling of specific issues.

Filner, a progressive Democrat generally regarded as an ideological ally of the mayor’s, remains baffled by O’Connor’s frosty attitude. He campaigned for her in 1983 and 1986, unlike Deputy Mayor Gloria McColl, who supported O’Connor rival Roger Hedgecock five years ago but is now one of O’Connor’s closest council allies.

No Meeting Since November

Despite several requests, Filner said, he has not gained an audience with O’Connor since a November discussion of committee assignments.

“I think I raised as much money as anybody,” he said of his efforts for O’Connor. “And I was in the trenches, walking door-to-door. We have a (history) of mutual support. I expected, when I got on the council, that that would continue. The communication has not been what I expected.”

O’Connor said she is equally put off by Filner’s style.

“Bob Filner came in confrontational,” she said. “Just go back and look at the swearing-in. It started from the beginning, and his first meeting was confrontational. We just have a different style.”

But Filner maintains that, as the city’s leader, it is O’Connor’s responsibility to keep council members informed of her priorities and ensure that they know which votes are important to her. Too often, he said, he learns which way O’Connor is leaning when she speaks at public council sessions or whispers to colleagues at the council table.

“That’s not sufficient for her to understand what we’re trying to do, and that’s not sufficient for us to understand what she’s trying to do,” he said. “For her own benefit, we need to know more what her agenda is. We don’t know.”

Struiksma added: “My phone does not ring with her on the other end. . . . A mayor of any city, whether it’s San Diego or Chicago, should spend a fair amount of time interacting on a one-on-one basis with her colleagues, at least to the point where you understand what they are thinking or what their issues or concerns are.”

Reason to Be Wary

But O’Connor has had good reason to be wary of Struiksma, who took a long look at a run for mayor before announcing in February that he would not challenge O’Connor.

Asked about Struiksma’s complaints, she responded: “Ed’s kind of a loner. I think he would even say that about himself.”

McCarty declined to be interviewed on council relationships with O’Connor, saying only that some at City Hall believe they “are not all they could be.” Last week, the O’Connor-McCarty relationship hit a new low when the two engaged in a heated toe-to-toe argument in the council chamber over a memo on growth.

The friction between the mayor and some of her colleagues sometimes has an effect on the conduct of city business. In just the past few months, the lack of communication has led to several controversies:

- Struiksma in February accused O’Connor of avoiding discussion of a proposal he made along with Pratt and Filner for an emergency $250,000 allocation of city funds for AIDS victims by refusing to put the request on the agenda of a council committee she heads. Pratt and Filner also questioned why their plan was bounced between two council committees without being considered.

Eventually, the three councilmen forced a discussion of the matter at a separate committee meeting, but the proposal was voted down.

In contrast, council members noted that when O’Connor wanted to turn over control of a San Ysidro recreation center in Filner’s district to the social service agency Casa Familiar--a move Filner opposed--she simply scheduled a new item on the council agenda for April 4. The move was approved over Filner’s protests.

- Pratt said he would have supported O’Connor’s candidate, attorney Donald McGrath, for an appointment to the Stadium Authority over Mike Gotch if O’Connor had contacted him about it. But, when Gotch lobbied him, he committed himself to the former 6th District council member.

“I didn’t have any idea that the mayor was supporting another candidate,” Pratt said.

- When existence of a “confidential memorandum” by consultant Robert Freilich surfaced, Struiksma accused O’Connor of trying to leave other council members out of discussions on the growth-management plan that will be presented to voters in November.

O’Connor and Ron Roberts, who heads the citizens advisory group looking at the plan, were the only council members to receive the document before complaints forced its general release.

For other council members, however, access to O’Connor is not nearly as difficult. Her closest allies--Abbe Wolfsheimer, McColl and Roberts--say that, although O’Connor’s busy schedule makes it difficult to arrange a meeting with her, they can speak with her on a regular basis.

Roberts, the only freshman O’Connor endorsed during the campaign, meets with her about twice a month, said Roberts aide Paul Grasso. “I think he does have an easier time than any of the other council members,” Grasso said.

And a Henderson aide said his boss “has an excellent relationship with the mayor that dates from the campaign.”

Relationship Improved

Pratt, another freshman, said that early in his tenure there was “no opportunity to communicate on the issues” with O’Connor.

“Since then, my relationship with the mayor has improved to the point where, if there is something I am concerned with, I will just go communicate” with her.

“I think she is reaching that comfort level where she realizes people are not out to get her,” Pratt said.

Outside City Hall, the charge that O’Connor is inaccessible is one of the most widespread criticisms of her performance.

Bill Nelson, chairman of the San Diego Chamber of Commerce, said members of his group have found it “very difficult, almost impossible” to get appointments with O’Connor.

“It’s not an ego thing or that we feel we have some kind of absolute right to the mayor’s time,” Nelson said. “But we represent a significant part of the community and feel that we have something to add from time to time. And three minutes every other Saturday doesn’t do it for you.”

Nelson was referring to O’Connor’s “Meet the Mayor” sessions, weekend meetings in which anyone can have five minutes with the mayor to discuss issues. O’Connor has held 23 such sessions.

Although criticized by some as a public-relations gambit, the meetings have provided hundreds of average San Diegans with their first personal encounter with a mayor. In that way, O’Connor argues, the sessions have “brought City Hall closer to the people.”

The populist appeal of the “Meet the Mayor” sessions is sometimes lost, however, on major public figures. Accustomed to easy entry to past mayors, some civic leaders have been taken aback by suggestions from O’Connor or her staff that they, too, attend the Saturday sessions or try to set up other non-business-hour appointments.

“If it’s good enough for everybody else, I don’t understand what the problem is,” O’Connor said. “The community likes the fact that the average citizen has as much potential access as a county . . . supervisor or bank president.”

More Time Needed

But O’Connor’s critics note that some issues require more than five minutes of the mayor’s time--and that there are occasions when the mayor’s involvement is crucial.

Last August, when a New Hampshire company abruptly aborted its $5-million, five-year quest to build a controversial waste-to-energy plant in Kearny Mesa, the firm’s president complained that he had been unable to obtain a meeting with O’Connor, despite six months of effort. The mayor’s unwillingness to personally discuss the so-called SANDER project “seriously undermined” the plan, said John Sullivan, head of Signal Environmental Systems.

The month before, San Diego County’s Superior Court judges, faced with a lack of downtown space that prompted them to consider moving many court activities into surrounding cities, had to call twice to wangle an appointment with O’Connor--and then were told that the mayor could not squeeze them into her schedule for several months.

Fellow officeholders often fare no better. When Brian Bilbray was chairman of the Board of Supervisors last year, his first meeting with O’Connor came after seven months of requests--and after several earlier appointments had been canceled at the last minute by the mayor’s staff. They since have had several other meetings.

‘Starts Yelling’

“I know the mayor’s busy, but it’s a little hard to swallow when it takes that long to set up a meeting,” said a Bilbray adviser.

In response, O’Connor said: “I’ve met with Brian Bilbray at least five or six times, and every time he gets in and starts yelling. . . . I’ll tell you something: The average person on the street who comes to see me is much more polite and gracious than Brian Bilbray.”

Although O’Connor argues that much of the criticism comes from people who do not support her or her policies, even some who are philosophically aligned with the mayor are troubled by their lack of access to her office.

Kathy Giles, a Sierra Club lobbyist, said she lacks direct access to O’Connor and has difficulty reaching some mayoral staffers. “I feel very left out in the cold, which is unusual, because I think that I and the mayor are generally of one mind,” Giles said.

Former Councilman Haro, chairman of the Chicano Federation board, said: “There’s a certain hypocrisy in this message that she’s hard to reach because she’s out with the people. The reality is, it’s difficult for anyone to get to her. Remember, after all, this woman is not the President, a governor or royalty. This is why some people have started calling her ‘The Princess.’ ”

Grudges are hardly uncommon in politics, but some argue that O’Connor has an especially long memory that sometimes affects who is allowed to cross the mayoral threshold. Giles, for example, recalled that, when she was quoted in a newspaper story criticizing the city’s growth policies, O’Connor took the remarks personally. Later, when Giles tried to clear the air with O’Connor while the two were in the same elevator, O’Connor told her: “ ‘Well, Kathy, we have to remember who our friends are,’ ” Giles recalled.

Plenty of Defenders

But O’Connor also has many defenders on the question of accessibility, particularly neighborhood activists who bolster her claim that she has opened up City Hall to a broader, more diverse cross section of the city.

“Excellent is how I’d describe her access,” said DeDe McClure, a black community leader who is also active in women’s political groups. “She and her staff have always been there to listen, and the response and follow-up have been excellent, too.”

Even some groups that generally oppose O’Connor’s policies say they are satisfied with their ability to expose the mayor and her staff to their viewpoints.

Valuable Forum

While developers have little in common with O’Connor, Robert Morris, executive vice president of the Building Industry Assn., said the mayor’s housing advisory task force provides a valuable monthly forum on the volatile growth issue.

“It’s not always eyeball-to-eyeball contact with the mayor, but it doesn’t have to be as long as you’re getting across your points to the staff,” Morris said.

Overall, O’Connor takes comfort in the knowledge that her overwhelming public popularity--which kept Struiksma, Supervisor Susan Golding and several other potentially strong opponents on the sidelines in this spring’s mayoral race--is proof that average San Diegans like her style, even if many of the “Top 200” do not.

Community Support

“The community has been very supportive of me . . . much to the surprise of the ‘whiny Wandas,’ ” O’Connor said. “Because they’re not out there in the community. They don’t understand that San Diego has changed. They don’t understand that the whole process has changed. And they’re soon to become irrelevant if they don’t start listening to the community.

“The community for a long time felt that the mayor and the council were distant. I felt it even on the outside. When I was campaigning (in 1986), I said that I wanted to make everyone feel that the mayor’s office was theirs and I was their mayor.

“I think I’ve been somewhat successful in doing that. . . . That’s why people . . . don’t call me ‘Mayor.’ They call me Maureen.”