Honorable? Overwhelmed? Disappointing?
What one word would you use to describe Mayor Lori Lightfoot?
Choose one of the following words to describe Lori Lightfoot during her time as mayor of Chicago:
Tough
Disappointing
Overwhelmed
Honorable
Bully
Effortful
Well-intentioned
Emotional
Unprepared
Cloistered
Thin-skinned
Badass
Exhausted
Those are some of the answers I’ve received when I’ve asked people to pick a word — just one — to describe Lightfoot on the occasion of the two-year anniversary of her time running this great, chaotic city.
Of course, no human can be distilled into a single word, and there’s a case to be made that Lightfoot is all these things, even in their seeming contradiction.
It’s possible to be both honorable and unprepared, sometimes at the same time. Tough and thinskinned can be flip sides of the same person. Badass or bully? There’s a fine line between the two, and Lightfoot has walked on both sides.
As for overwhelmed? In a year of a pandemic and historic social unrest, who wouldn’t be?
But of all the words I’ve heard when I’ve asked — an unscientific sample of 50 or so strangers and acquaintances — one word pops up more than any other: disappointing. It’s often accompanied by the phrase, “I expected more from her.”
Disappointment presumes expectation, and many people expected great change from Lightfoot. She would reform the Police Department, reduce street violence, enhance equity in every domain, from schools to neighborhood shopping districts. She’d be independent, neither puppet nor puppeteer in the noisy theater of Chicago politics.
As it turns out, big change is easier to talk about than do.
The disappointment in Lightfoot seems greatest among people who had the highest expectations. I wasn’t one. I voted for her opponent, Toni Preckwinkle, president of the Cook County Board.
Preckwinkle seemed more aloof than Lightfoot, compromised by her long tenure in government. But she struck me as better suited, by experience and temperament, for the unforgiving work of running the city.
She understood the machinery of governance and had endured more of the brutalities of a fully public life. To me, that made Preckwinkle a pro. To many voters, that made her a hack, and I’m aware of only two friends in my wide social circle, one Black and one white, who also voted for her.
But even to many Preckwinkle supporters, Lightfoot’s election was inspiring. The idea that the racially divided city of Chicago could elect a Black gay woman felt like progress.
It was thrilling to watch Lightfoot stand on the inauguration stage on a May day and say to an audience of thousands, “Black and brown kids, low-income kids, every kid in this city should grow up knowing they can pursue anything, they can love anyone — that’s my Chicago dream.”
But that was before trouble came banging at her door.
It was before the pandemic, with its attendant economic calamities. It was before the street protests ignited by the horrific police killing of George Floyd, a Black man in Minnesota, and before the looting that harmed neighborhoods already hurting.
It was before the demonstrators, angry at Lightfoot’s failure to adhere to her promises of progressive reforms, took to gathering around her house with chants and signs, as they did a few days ago, giving her a grade of “F” for her first two years.
Frankly, there have been many times when I’ve wondered when the mayor finds time or peace to sleep. How she, or anyone, could withstand the onslaught is astonishing. But we take it for granted that our leaders do. It’s a job requirement.
Contrary to my unscientific survey, one recent poll of 500 likely voters says Lightfoot has a high approval rating. I’m skeptical, but through it all she has had impressive moments. Her tough stances for public safety during the pandemic made us safer, though they also made her a target. When she became a public-safety meme — the sternfaced mayor in her trademark suits — she played along, and her sense of humor leavened our fear.
And while her difficulties communicating with the City Council can look like failure, others call it democracy at work.
In a recent Tribune op-ed, Dick Simpson, a former alderman and a professor of political science at the University of Illinois at Chicago, discussed a UIC report that concluded she’s governing well, despite her run-ins with aldermen.
“The competing council factions and policy conflicts are the face of the new Chicago democracy,” he wrote, “and it isn’t always pretty.” While significant problems remain, he argued, “Mayor Lightfoot has succeeded in governing in a difficult time.”
We often treat politicians as cartoon heroes and villains, but they’re more complex than cartoons. They’re people, messy, contradictory people.
Lightfoot isn’t a perfect mayor. She could do better in many ways. But when her opponents treat her as a cartoon villain, they contribute to the problem. That’s a good thing to keep in mind as she and we proceed together into the next two years.
And as we do, she’d be wise to keep in mind some answers to another of my unscientific surveys: What advice would you give Mayor Lightfoot going forward?
Among the replies:
■ Tap the expertise of mayors and police chiefs of cities who have turned around departments.
■ Grow a thicker skin.
■ Count to 10 before you speak.