Over the course of his long career as mayor, Don Plusquellic became known for his economic development efforts yet he was equally—and personally—invested in education. The following is from Chapter 13: “The Schooling of an Education Mayor.”
When Don Plusquellic graduated from Kenmore High School, many of those in the class of 1967 walked out of the doors and through those at one of the rubber companies. Unrecognized then, the current had begun to run against what had been “one of the most innovative sectors of the U.S. economy between 1900 and 1935.”
By the 1960s, innovation had declined and American tire makers, as a part of the U.S. auto industry, were running scared in the wake of European radial tires, a superior offering to anything built in Akron. Worse, domestic tire makers allowed the considerable expense of retooling their plants for radial production to cause them, according to former Goodrich CEO John Ong, to pooh-pooh the radial. It was wishful thinking.
The radial ended tire making in Akron and, indirectly, opened Plusquellic’s eyes to the importance of the new knowledge economy, and thus education.
Education always influenced Plusquellic. Teachers and coaches altered the course of his life. When he was attending law school at night, he worked as a substitute teacher for the Akron Public Schools. He knew how challenging it could be to stand in front of students and try to grab their attention, particularly as a substitute.
If during his first years as mayor he focused publicly on economic development, he recognized the truth one of his education partners, Luis Proenza, pointed out when asked whether he considered Plusquellic the economic development mayor or the education mayor: “You see,” Proenza explained, “the two aren’t disconnected.”
Plusquellic’s greatest legacy may be that he was both.
His deep passion for education and its role in a community’s livability became evident in 1994 when he put the Akron Public Schools on his broad political back and carried it to success during a critical levy campaign.
After three successive levy failures over two years, the schools found themselves in deep trouble. They desperately needed money, a situation common today in Ohio’s inadequately and unconstitutionally funded districts.
With the Beacon Journal in an editorial funk about “the damage caused by more than two years of budget cuts,” Plusquellic stepped forward on two fronts: first, he proposed a unique approach to addressing a threatened strike by Akron teachers that would have doomed a levy. He suggested the impasse between the teachers union, the Akron Education Association (AEA), and the board of education could be resolved through the binding arbitration the city and its safety forces use.
In his State of the City addresses in 1992 and 1993, Plusquellic criticized the teachers’ union and school officials for creating a hostile atmosphere. After a public confrontation with AEA leaders in 1993, Plusquellic tried a quieter, behind-the-scenes approach until coming forward with his plan that put both sides on the spot. He had little choice.
“I’m looking at a situation where the very foundation blocks of our community are being destroyed,” Plusquellic said. Without a strong education system, the city workforce would not be the quality that attracted businesses and their jobs.
“The mayor,” said embattled and controversial Superintendent Terry Grier, “is to be commended for stepping forward with an option we had not considered.”
The impasse, before Plusquellic’s suggestion, had appeared intractable. The clock was ticking, and even the sometimes tone-deaf Conrad Ott, former superintendent who won election to the school board and became something of a “shadow superintendent,” could hear it. Never a Plusquellic fan, Ott joined those turning to the peacemaker: “I’m pointing at the mayor and saying, ‘Sir, if you can get this settled, proceed. Let’s not have a showdown …’ ”
After failing to agree on even the issues to be arbitrated, the two sides surprised a discouraged federal mediator by accepting at the last minute a contract that included binding arbitration, with an initial raise and additional money dependent on passage of an 8.9-mill levy.
Plusquellic’s leadership helped to avert a strike, and he was only warming up. He and top lieutenant Joel Bailey took over the levy campaign, raising its savvy and professionalism. Plusquellic went everywhere on behalf of the levy.
The decisive leadership he demonstrated was the reason Cleveland State’s Edward Hill, in his study “Does a Mayor Make a Difference in a City’s Economic Performance? The case of Akron Ohio,” and Ledebur and Taylor in the “Restoring Prosperity Case Study,” concluded Plusquellic has been a significant, if not decisive, factor in Akron’s reemergence as a stronger performing city than comparable Midwest cities that have suffered similar crushing industrial loss.
When Plusquellic agreed to lead the levy campaign, School Board President Sam Salem called it “a blessing.” Salem said Plusquellic’s “star is high” after playing the atypical peacemaker to avoid a strike and give the levy a chance.
Superintendent Grier agreed that Plusquellic’s involvement would be significant. “I think the mayor brings a passion to the levy,” Grier said.
“He is going to give of his time, of his money, of his name,” Bailey pledged. “We’re not in this to lose. We can’t afford to lose. What it comes down to is the mayor recognizes that no matter how many great things we can accomplish in economic development, rebuilding our downtown [and] reviving our neighborhoods, it’s all for naught if our schools aren’t strong.”
Plusquellic’s leadership, built on his role in averting the second strike in Akron Public Schools’ history, seemed to bring teachers and schools officials together in a stronger, more united effort that had to overcome — or perhaps benefited from — Grier’s announcement he had accepted a job in Sacramento, California, and was leaving.
The mayor drew on his city council allies, seasoned and skilled campaigners, and gave them strict marching orders: “Stick to the message.” The levy was about the money needed — the schools had not gone to the voters in six years — to provide Akron students a good, well-rounded education.
Plusquellic saw this moment, one of many in Akron involving education, as a “decision point — that proverbial fork in the [road]” — that prompts bottom-line questions: “What are the important [decision points],” he has always asked himself, “ones where you can’t afford not to do this?” And the second part: “What happens in a community when [it] misses opportunities?”
The answer was painful but simple: it cannot flourish. Plusquellic had a knack for recognizing critical junctures and leading his city in the right direction.