http://www.thedailypage.com/isthmus/article.php?article=29927 So who is this guy? Barrett, 56, comes out of a traditional Irish Catholic neighborhood on Milwaukee's west side that has produced generations of dependable Democratic voters. As a fine profile in Milwaukee Magazine pointed out, Barrett lives within a block of his childhood home.
He and his wife, Kris, a schoolteacher, have four children. He credits Kris for shouldering most of the parenting load, though it's telling of his priorities that Barrett showed up late at the opening night of the recent state Democratic Convention in Middleton because he first attended his daughter's fifth-grade graduation in Milwaukee.
Barrett comes across as a guy who's entirely comfortable in his skin. Not much seems to rattle him, nor does he seem to rise to anger or defensiveness. He has, by that measure, the makings of an unusually good politician.
"What you always hear about Barrett is accurate," says Jim Rowen, a former Milwaukee and Madison mayoral aide and now an environmental blogger. "He's a thoughtful, pleasant, humane guy. He has great people skills. It comes naturally.... Barrett is an authentic nice guy."
"The private Tom Barrett is the public Tom Barrett," adds Mordecai Lee, a UW-Milwaukee political scientist and former Democratic lawmaker.
Temperament distinguishes Barrett. It informs both his moderately liberal politics and his stand-up character. If he wins the governorship, it will almost certainly be because the voters like the cut of his jib.
Tom Barrett had his Atticus Finch moment last August. He was walking home from the State Fair in West Allis with family members when he heard a woman's cry for help. He came upon an angry street punk threatening her over a child-custody matter. Barrett stepped in and got badly beaten with a tire iron, but not before landing punches of his own.
This was a gut-check moment. And Barrett passed. President Obama called to praise him for his courage. The mayor lost two teeth and got his head bashed, and he walks around today with his right hand bandaged from the complications of four bone fractures. He still can't grip a pen to sign his name. He had another surgery in mid-July.
Barrett's challenge of the thug "is a perfect insight into his character," says Lee. Indeed, there's a great Yiddish word that captures that character: Barrett is a mensch. That is, an honorable man who acts out of a sense of rightness and responsibility.
The incident, publicized far and wide, should provide some cover for the fact that Barrett has been a career politician with only fleeting exposure to the non-government world. He's a lifer who's had his ticket punched in the Assembly, the state Senate, the House of Representatives and now the mayor's office.
No great legislation is attached to Barrett's name in either Madison or Washington. But he took care of constituent concerns, pushed through bills that benefited the folks back home and was a dependable liberal vote. Lee calls him "a workhorse rather than a show horse" on legislative matters.
While Barrett never emerged as a lawmaker of the first rank, he caught the eye of national party leaders. When nervous Democrats looked to add another member to the House Judiciary Committee to investigate the possible impeachment of President Clinton, they picked a low-key Midwestern colleague who personified reasonableness. That was Tom Barrett.
Ambitious but tiring of the Washington grind after five terms (and facing a fight with another Democratic congressman in a reapportioned district), Barrett gave up his congressional perch to run for governor in 2002. As he tells it, his mom played a role, urging him to come home, "be a normal person and raise your family so I can see my grandchildren."
Doyle, as crafty a candidate as the state has seen in the past 40 years, beat Barrett and Dane County Executive Kathleen Falk in the Democratic primary by running to their right.
In one of life's twists, Barrett is a stronger candidate today for having lost in 2002. It set the stage for his election as Milwaukee mayor in 2004.
Barrett has never been a noisy partisan, and the nonpartisan mayor's office has been a good fit. His friend Peter Bock says Barrett has learned from all of his jobs, but especially the mayor's post.
"That's been his biggest education," says the former Milwaukee lawmaker. "I've seen him change. He's more a results-oriented implementer than somebody who talks about policy. As mayor, he's learned the important thing is getting the job done, even if it makes some people mad."
Milwaukee has deep, frightening problems of urban decline, but Barrett in his two terms seems to be doing some things right.
Ed Flynn, the police chief he hired with the advice of the conservative Bradley Foundation, is credited for reducing crime. On the economic front, the city has scored several major business expansions, and the Menominee Valley, long a depressing example of industrial collapse, has shown signs of new life.
In his speeches, Barrett likes to joke that he's even recognized Waukesha's right to exist, which always gets a big laugh. But beneath the humor is a serious policy change for Milwaukee. Unlike his famously combative predecessors, John Norquist and Henry Maier, Barrett has tried to make peace with the suburbs and has worked with them on regional economic development.
Barrett recognizes compatibility as his strong suit. "I believe public policy is done best when there is a level of respect where individuals can look each other in the eye and say I agree or I disagree," he says. "I believe the values that unite us are much stronger than the policies that divide us."
His Boy Scout-like credo seems charmingly naive in an era of smash-face politics and razor-wire partisanship. But if Barrett manages to eke out a win in November, this high-minded approach will be one of the reasons. He will have hit a chord in a public looking for, as he puts it, "adult supervision" in Madison.
Printer-friendly format
Email this thread to a friend
Bookmark this thread
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
