Kwame Kilpatrick: Mayor with diamond earrings changes gears in Detroit - Interview

Ebony, Dec, 2002 by Kevin Chappell

Many older folks call the mayor by his first name, which is just fine with him. But what he has a problem with is people who do it out of disrespect because of his age. "Those people, I check right away," he says. "It's happening a lot less now than it did when I was elected. In fact, it is rare now. I was this kid who didn't have any business having this job. But in six months, when you start closing casino agreements that have been here for five years, when you cure a $170 million deficit, when you tackle projects that have been sitting for years and get them done in a few months, then it's easy for people to call you `Mr. Mayor.'"

He believes that part of the job of being mayor is to inspire people to do more, to do better, to get involved. He feels connected to Detroit, and to him, improving the city is personal. "I was born and raised in Detroit and [went to the public schools]," he says. "To grow up in the '80s in Detroit, you really understand a lot of the people, a lot of the issues. The schools are exactly the same. You still have some of the same teachers, some of the same people in the neighborhoods. A lot of these people helped raise me."

The mayor's political roots run deep. His mother is U.S. Rep. Carolyn Cheeks-Kilpatrick (D-Mich.) and his father, Bernard Kilpatrick, is a former Wayne County commissioner. The mayor can remember vividly going out as a kid with his mother to meet with constituents. He also remembers how she would cry when things beyond her control happened in her district. It was her dedication, he says, that influenced him to pursue a career in politics. When his mother, then a state representative, ran for congress, he successfully ran for her house seat. In short order, he served as Democratic leader of the Michigan House of Representatives, and then leader of the entire house, the first time an African-American had held either position. When former Mayor Dennis Archer decided not to seek re-election, the door opened for Kilpatrick to run for mayor. He admits that he looks to his parents for guidance and encouragement. "I think my mother is the best public servant in the world," he says. "I only hope to be half as good as she is."

His mother refers to him as "mayor," and tries to rein in her overflowing pride when describing her son's accomplishments. "The mayor has energy to burn," his mother says. "He's very intelligent on his feet. He has a quick wit. He has a passion for the city of Detroit. He has an undying love for African-American people. He is a righteous young man. That's the way he was brought up."

Just as proud is the mayor's father. Something of a legend in city politics, Bernard Kilpatrick continues to be active in Detroit matters, often participating in the same meetings as his son. "Talk about the pride--people think I'm lifting weights now, because I walk around with my chest out all of the time," his father says.

Kilpatrick's parents divorced when he was 11. After that, he moved between the two until he graduated from high school and left home to attend Florida A&M. He was a good student, although he had the gift of gab even back then. "I got a lot of whippings," he says. "My mother had to come to school a lot for me. I was talking, running my mouth, playing. But I always made good grades."