Lawmaker ‘a fighter for the community’

Could Progressive Omari Hardy end up in Congress?

Omari Hardy has forcefully challenged two of the most powerful interests in Florida, Gov. Ron DeSantis and the sugar industry. He was the protagonist in a video that generated millions of views when it went viral. He’s been mentioned in the New York Times and the Washington Post and has been seen on “60 Minutes.” And he has amassed more Twitter followers than most members of Congress.

All at age 31, as a relative newcomer to politics.

The young, Black, progressive state lawmaker stands out amid the marble, walnut and teak at the Florida State Capitol. Just five months into his first term, the newest state representative from Palm Beach County is earning rave reviews from the progressive left, admiration — and some unease — from mainstream Democrats, and a heightened level of annoyance among Republicans.

Hardy’s priorities, style and confidence have some supporters, and critics, wondering if he’ll attempt to upend the establishment order even more than he’s already done — by running for Congress to fill the seat left vacant by the April 6 death of the late U.S. Rep. Alcee Hastings.

Hardy hasn’t announced his intentions. In a statement mourning Hastings’ passing, Hardy said the community

“needs leaders like Representative Hastings now more than ever.”

One of the descriptions in Hardy’s Twitter profile is “Troublemaker Extraordinaire.” He minces no words when posing penetrating questions or drawing pointed conclusions on racial justice and what he sees as political and economic wrongdoing.

“Omari Hardy is a fighter for the community,” said Stephen Gaskill, a political communications consultant and president of the Florida LGBTQ+ Democratic Caucus. “He is part of a new generation of younger, progressive leaders on the Democratic side who are making sure that equality and racial justice are part of everything he’s doing.”

NextGen America, the political group that works to mobilize young voters,

put him on its national list of 30 “young Black changemakers who are making history right now.” And Steve Schale, who ran Barack Obama’s successful 2008 and 2012 campaigns in Florida and a national super PAC supporting Joe Biden’s 2020 campaign, told his Twitter followers to “keep an eye” on Hardy.

Getting noticed

Recent interviews with 12 current and former colleagues and other political insiders, both admirers and detractors, reveal a politician who rejects many of the unwritten rules of politics: learn the ropes, defer to the longtime veterans, act collegially within the system — go along to get along.

In his previous elected office, on the Lake Worth Beach City Commission, Hardy battled the mayor, city manager and some of his commission colleagues.

Video of a March 19, 2020, confrontation at the City Commission over Hardy’s strenuous objection to power shutoffs by the city-owned electric utility in the early days of the coronavirus campaign catapulted him to national attention. He excoriated then-Mayor Pam Triolo for her “so-called leadership” of what he termed “a banana republic.”

Triolo slammed back, accusing him of grandstanding to advance his political career. Hardy went on to win election as a state representative in November. Triolo was defeated for reelection last month.

As a candidate and since his victory in November, Hardy has been sharply critical of the Republican governor’s handing of the coronavirus pandemic, raising concerns over what he sees as inequitable treatment of minority and economically disadvantaged communities.

On April 4, Hardy received another huge dose of national exposure when some of his criticisms were included in a “60 Minutes” report that explored DeSantis’ handling of coronavirus vaccinations. The “60 Minutes” reporting has been heavily dissected, with DeSantis arguing it presented a misleading accounting of what happened in Florida.

Hardy’s outspokenness has helped him develop a large social media following. His 167,000 Twitter followers is nine times the number of Palm Beach County’s 12 other state senators and representatives combined. And he has double the followers of the county’s four members of Congress. He also has 109,000 followers on Instagram.

That kind of a social media following is an achievement, and can be powerful, said Kevin Wagner, a Florida Atlantic University political scientist and author of the book “Tweeting to Power: The Social Media Revolution in American Politics.”

“It’s very hard to stand out on social media because there are so many people looking to get attention,” Wagner said. “To be able to navigate that and have a significant following at a young age is a sign of good outreach and effective messaging.”

Police reform

Hardy has sponsored a typical menu of legislation for a junior member of the Florida Legislature: money for sewer work, a summer reading program, a river sediment study. He’s also sponsoring bills on the kind of issue that has broad appeal in 21st Century America: increasing the use of renewable energy at schools.

But nothing is as important to Hardy as criminal justice reform. He sometimes wears facemasks bearing the names of Black people killed by police and has called out officers who “shoot innocent children” and people in the criminal justice system “who cover up the dirty work of bad cops.”

He introduced two far-reaching bills to overhaul policing.

One would dramatically change oversight of law enforcement, creating new civilian control for law enforcement and corrections agencies and their officers. Some wrongdoing would cost police their pensions. Hardy said the idea is to make police “completely and utterly accountable to the civilians who they serve” and “no longer accountable to an internal affairs department that conducts sham investigations and is composed of these officers’ friends and coworkers.”

The other would “unbundle” the police, sending many of their responsibilities — such as traffic enforcement — to different branches of broader public safety agencies. Police officers would be limited as to when they could initiate traffic stops. Hardy was well aware that neither had any chance of even a hearing in the Florida Legislature, let alone passage. But he said significant change has to start somewhere. Not long ago, he said, people dismissed the notion of a $15 an hour minimum wage as an impossible notion of the far left. Florida voters passed a $15 minimum wage referendum last year.

Along the way, he made an enemy of police unions, something few politicians in either party are willing to risk.

Early in 2020, the Palm Beach County Police Benevolent Association endorsed Hardy and even gave $1,000 to his campaign. “He really didn’t overstep his bounds at that time,” said John Kazanjian, president of both the Palm Beach County and the Florida state PBAs. “Next thing you know, George Floyd happens.”

Kazanjian said Hardy would never get another endorsement. “He does not support police, so we’re not going to support him.”

Inside vs. outside

Hardy doesn’t go along with the traditional way of doing business in tradition-bound Tallahassee and declined to make the tradeoff that confronts every Democrat. With Republicans controlling every aspect of state government, Democrats who cooperate can win some appropriations for their districts and occasionally pass some bills.

„ ■ He’s challenged the sugar industry. Few politicians in either party dare to cross Big Sugar, which has a reputation for getting almost anything it wants from state and local governments. Hardy argues that residents of the Glades communities in far western Palm Beach County suffer health effects from practices such as the months of burning sugar cane fields every year to prepare them for harvest.

„ ■ He caused a shudder i n Tallahassee. In an exchange that might seem like no big deal to outsiders, Hardy lamented the “cynical politics” of Republican legislation sought by DeSantis to impose restrictions on protesters. He recounted overhearing one Republican lawmaker saying the party would send out its token Black Republican to support the legislation. The comment, denied by Republicans, prompted House Speaker Chris Sprowls to deliver a reminder about observing decorum.

„ ■ He offended Republicans with his objection to legislation to weaken public employee unions. “Old folks say tell the truth, shame the devil. I’m going tell the truth today and I’m going to let whoever’s shamed by it feel that sense of shame. This bill is a transparent attack,” he said, complaining about “the dishonesty” coming from the sponsor. Video of the committee hearing shows state Rep. Cord Byrd, R-Neptune Beach, complaining to the committee chairman. “[He] just called me a liar, Mr. Chairman. This is the kind of conduct that has been going on from Representative Hardy the entire session.”

Effectiveness

Todd Parrish sees Hardy as someone who’s good at grabbing attention but ineffective at governing.

“He tries to stir up trouble,” said Parrish, who managed the unsuccessful November 2020 campaign of Republican Danielle Madsen for the seat Hardy won. (Once Hardy won the Democratic primary, he was virtually guaranteed to become the representative in the overwhelmingly Democratic 88th state House District.)

“He’s just a combative attention-getter and doesn’t care who he [alienates]. He’s not accomplishing anything,” said Parrish, who has been a legislative staffer and was legislative director for the Department of Children and Families in former Gov. Jeb Bush’s administration.

Hardy said passing legislation is important. But, he said, if it means staying quiet on important issues, it’s too high a price to pay.

“You should not silence yourself in order to get the legislative crumbs of the Republicans,” he said. “If Republicans want us to be silent about serious injustices in exchange for legislative crumbs, small appropriations, a minor bill here or there, then I can’t accept that deal. That’s not a transaction that I’m willing to make and, frankly, I think my constituents are OK with that. I think people in the community want a fighter.”

Former U.S. Rep. Mark Foley, a Palm Beach County Republican who was skilled at earning media attention when he was in office, said it’s a tricky balancing act. “He’s been brilliant at garnering media attention,” Foley said, warning that “you start grating on people” and alienating colleagues.

Foley, who started his own political career as a Lake Worth Beach city commissioner, said there’s a lot he admires about Hardy. “I consider him very talented. He has moxie.”

Lake Worth Beach Commissioner Herman Robinson called Hardy “extremely intelligent and ambitious,” which he said are positives. Tallahassee colleagues said he digests lots of information and is exceedingly well-prepared for committee hearings where he peppers bill sponsors with questions.

Other Democrats refer to him as “the professor.”

Political risk-taker

Hardy won both his previous seat on the Lake Worth City Commission and his current seat in the Florida House by defeating incumbents.

A congressional race, in which he’d face well-funded, veteran politicians, would be an even riskier bet.

But winning the Democratic primary — tantamount to winning the seat in the overwhelmingly Democratic 20th Congressional District — isn’t unimaginable. Young progressive candidates have upended the Democratic establishment in recent years. The most prominent example is U.S. Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s 2018 election, but several other progressive Democrats also have defeated candidates from the more establishment, progressive wing of the party.

The person

Hardy was born in Fort Lauderdale and grew up in Broward County, where he attended public schools until he was halfway through high school. “I was having a little too much fun with my friends there and my mother did what she promised me she would do, which was to pull me out of Dillard High School and put me at St. Thomas Aquinas, where I tucked in my shirt and finished my high school education.”

He grew up in a household with two moms.

Hardy was awarded a scholarship to study music at the University for Miami, and while there found a passion for economics, which turned into his major. After college he got a job teaching seventh-grade civics at Roosevelt Middle School in West Palm Beach and moved to Lake Worth Beach. Looking at the city, “I got upset and I got involved.” He ran for City Commission and at age 27, defeated a three-term incumbent in 2017, and was reelected in 2019.

Early in the pandemic year of 2020, he experienced the explosion of attention from the viral video. Also last year, he got engaged, won the primary for state representative, won the general election, was sworn into the Florida House, moved to West Palm Beach, and got married. His wife, Georgette Brammer-Hardy, has had a series of increasingly important political fundraising positions for the state and national Democratic parties, presidential candidates, presidential inaugural committees and a congressional campaign.

Just after Thanksgiving, he turned 31.

“I didn’t know he was only 31-years-old,” said state Sen. Lori Berman, whose district shares some territory with Hardy’s. “I knew he was extraordinary, but 31. That’s pretty amazing.”

Hardy