This post is dedicated to Senator Guy Guzzone (D-13) on his birthday! Happy Birthday, Guy and thanks for being another person who teaches us so much about politics!
I heard a light rap at the door of the room at the Sheraton in downtown Columbia where Robert and I are staying until we find more permanent HoCo digs.
“Mom-…Dad…it’s me, Rachel. I have to show you something.” came a muffled voice behind the heavy, semi-soundproof door.
“Do not disturb, please—oh, Rachel!”
I leapt out of bed, because even though I was further away from the door than Colleen I’m the lighter sleeper of the two of us. I opened it and Rachel was motioning for me to follow her with a joyfully conspiratorial look on her face.
“You have to see this,” she said back in her room. Behind the diaphanous, white curtain veiling the window in her room, on a ledge, was a bird’s nest with four chicks in it. As they always seem to be when you find such a treasure, the chicks were waiting for food. I assumed their mom was out making a living (so we’d better treat her right, as Donna Summer’s 1980s hit went).
Rachel and I looked at each other and said almost at the same time: “It’s spring.”
“And they were born right around when bills are born in the Maryland General Assembly…” I said, smiling and nodding.
“Dad! Not everything is about local politics!” Rachel said, her eyes wide with knowing disbelief.
“Honey! Ssssshhhhh–you’re going to scare little Guzzone, Atterbeary, Pendergrass, and Terrasa…” my own eyes wide and with a flick of my neck toward the chicks.
“Aaaargh! Dad! You’re politically…grounded! Go to your room until I come get you so that we can order room service!” Rachel yelled through a pillow she’d collapsed on, face-down, in faux exasperation at her poor Dad who’d caught a virulent bug going around–the political one. Rachel’s in town to see a doctor at Johns Hopkin.
I padded back to my room and Colleen was stretching awake getting ready to do her morning devotional “work,” as she calls it.
Even Stevens
“The office of Special Counsel Robert Mueller today… ” Anchor Brooke Baldwin of CNN said as I lifted the TV remote off its perch on my rumpled bedsheets to click it off. I’d get back to all that national politics stuff after a peaceful morning snack.
I grabbed some clothes and turned on the shower in the bathroom. As regular readers of this site know, while both Colleen and I love local politics, only I love national.
I washed up in the cocoon-like meditative space of the all-white, hotel-room bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and said, as water went from hot to cold on its cascade down my face: “What better time to have a talk with Ken Stevens?”
I slapped on some lotion on my face, put on my clothes, and went back out to my room to see if Ken were up to meeting me later that day.
He Ken Do It
Ken is the one who’s teaching me all about how a law is born in the Maryland General Assembly. I pick this kind of stuff relatively quickly, thought I don’t seem to have near the gift for it Ken has. Even as Ken patiently walks me through it all I have to ask for the same information over and over and review it over and over too. Ken’s up to the task, though. He must have sensed I needed the help and began forwarding me the email status updates on the bills he’s keeping track of this session in Annapolis. That coupled with how approachable he is to begin with made it seem like a foregone conclusion that he’d be my teacher on the topic.
I asked him to meet with me to talk about that and his decades-long involvement in local politics. He suggested we meet halfway between our residences, at the McDonald’s on Harper’s Farm Road.
To me, as many events we’ve been at together, as much as we talked about local politics, and as many small acts of great kindness he’s shown RoCo over the past 20 months, he’s an enigma. It’s like he sprung out of the ether of great humanhood spontaneously. Not so, apparently.
“I was born in New Hampshire, and I lived there until I was 19 years old,” he told me in his gentle voice. He smiled slowly, and I knew that though it’s a place far away and a time long gone, it holds happy memories for him. He opened a packet of dried fruit pieces and sprinkled it on his oatmeal with a light hand. I felt bashful about eating the french fries, wet with grease, next to me. But, hey–they’re McDonald’s french fries, I hadn’t had any in so long, and they’re legendary!
I told him that one of his greatest admirers, RoCo BFF, progressive activist, and local pediatrician Dr. Zaneb Beams, told me that he’d been involved in a Supreme Court case. She went to high school where a passionate civil liberties activist, Dr. John Roemer, taught. That was the Park School of Baltimore.
“I was a plaintiff in a case brought by Roemer,” he said, and for the first time I heard his New England accent in the way he said the “-er:” “-ah.” Roemer v. Board of Public Works of Maryland sought to ensure that funds for public education don’t go to colleges that award only “seminarian or theological degrees,” according to justia.com.
Mother May I Say I
Unlike me, Colleen’s mother, Dvorah Feinbaum, was reticent about revealing personal details to others. Even I sometimes felt like I was prying information out of her.
“Never write anything down,” she told me. Not only could it be used against you, she argued, but it could beget an array of tricky situations. I wonder what she’d think of this website, one on which Robert and I talk at least as much about ourselves as we do of others. Ken, too, was judicious in revealing personal details, but I still feel like I know him based on how he spends his time, how he behaves, and how other people speak of him.
At one point in my admiring interrogation he said, “I’ll never tell,” again, with serene smile. I laughed too, but partly because a good journalist knows how to get her information no matter what!
I wanted to know how Ken became the powerhouse in local progressive activism that he is today.
“I was going to be drafted,” Ken told me over the din at McDonald’s. “So instead, I joined the Air Force. My last assignment was at Fort Meade,” he said of the nearby military base. “I left the Air Force after four years to go to school as a civilian at the University of New Hampshire.” But the Old Line State called to him, and after graduating with a degree in government he ended up taking a job back at Fort Meade.
“My family is mostly still in New England–though one nephew’s in New Jersey and and one sibling’s in Myrtle Beach,” Ken said. “I spent more than 30 years at the job at Fort Meade. I also took graduate courses in government and politics–one thesis short of a Master’s degree.” We both chuckled at that, because I know from my own experience the circuitous ways graduate-level education can take shape from when I got my Master’s in rhetoric and composition at the State University of New York at Stony Brook.
“It’s the only thing I know,” Ken said of his long-term passion for local politics. And boy, does he know it! When I asked him to explain to me how a bill becomes a law in the Maryland General Assembly, within minutes, an explanation of just-right length greeted me in my email inbox. You can see it below.
Back at McDonald’s, he told me what spurred him on to jump head-first into political activism: “When I came back here as civilian, I noticed the rigid segregation and quickly became a lifetime member of the NAACP,” he said. “I just wanted to do something to end segregation.”
Until he came to Maryland the second time, he couldn’t get involved in political campaigns because he was in the service. But when he left the service, his devotion to local politics became how his personal passion for HoCo manifests itself.
Local gun violence prevention advocate Liz Banach, the president of Marylanders to Prevent Gun Violence is another card-carrying member of the Ken Stevens fan club. She told me in a text message exchange that Ken’s presence in Annapolis is as sure a bet every session on the day gun-related bills are heard as is the lack of convenient parking there.
“Ken’s email updates on all of the legislation in the Statehouse are among the most comprehensive pieces of information available. Ken keeps all of us up to date on what’s happening in Annapolis. He’s an institution, and I’m proud to consider him a friend,” Liz told me.
Related: See what happened at the UUCC Transgender Day of Remembrance.
“My first active engagement in partisan politics was on behalf of the local effort for a presidential campaign. In 1988 I helped Dukakis lose,” he said, which made us both laugh. “I’m a member of various local organizations.” He mentioned local races he’s been involved with, like now Senator Guy Guzzone’s (D-13) first race for a seat on the Howard County Council and one of Senator Jim Rosapepe’s (D-21) firs races for the position of Senator in the Maryland General Assembly..
Ken stated his goal as a local advocate simply, as he did most of responses to questions I posed.
“I want to get good legislation passed and to improve the community, from my point of view,” he said. “I look at my involvement as a one day at a time thing.”
I asked Carole Fisher, another ardent, longtime, local progressive activist with a legion of fans, what she thought Ken’s greatest quality was after decades of concomitant advocacy, she told me in terms as plain spoken as Ken communicates in: “His absolute honesty. He will never give you less.”
In It to Win It
When I asked Ken what he was proudest of achieving after all these years of activism, answered like a person of tried and true commitment.
“I look at it as a continuing battle on all kinds of issues. And it’s one I’m never going to quit,” he said.
But his dedication isn’t one of lockstep allegiance to single a party or candidate, it’s to the progressive ideals he holds dear. In fact, he gave up his membership in the Columbia Democratic Club. He was one of the founding members of it, but in the 1990s he felt it was becoming too “robotic.” He’s even voted for three Republican, because they were, in Ken’s view, the better candidates.
“I’m a rebel,” he said when I looked surprised at this, “I’m determined to be my own person.”
Civics and Specifics
“I wasn’t really all that smart in college,” Ken said. I lowered my brow to give him a look of disbelief, because he’s so clearly whip-smart. He keeps track of the cryptic movement of dozens of bills per session that he’s interested in from this chamber to that chamber, from this subcommittee to that subcommittee. Not only that, he puts it all into email format for friends like me to be able to follow too, as Liz mentioned. And finally it makes some sense! Ken did acquiesce a little when I insisted he possessed a great aptitude.
“In high school I did like math–and of course civics,” he said.
We got down to talking about an issue we’re both equally passionate about: gun violence prevention. I mentioned that I regretted not being able to track him down in Annapolis on the aforementioned “Gun Lobby Day” recently to say hi and commiserate.
“I’ve never been interested in having a gun, and I can’t see any reason why the general public should have one. I’m in favor of limiting guns to police and the military.” We both noted almost at once that the Second Amendment means only what the Supreme Court interprets it to mean at any given time, like any amendment.
The Days and Nights of Ken Stevens
Like many of us in the contemporary era, Ken spends a good deal of every day in the digital world.
“I spend more time on my computer than anything else, following bills and so forth. I’ll find a meeting to attend,” he said, “to fill up my time.” I had to stop him there.
“Ken, please: you’re a heartfelt champion of so many causes dear to your heart. You’re not just ‘filling up your time!'” I insisted as I pulled what looked like a bouquet of french fries out of their red, paper container. He chuckled a little, simultaneously agreeing with me and to indicate I was being too nit-picky about word choice.
He produced a printout of some of the achievement he’s proudest of. On it was having received a thank-you card from Delegate Eric Ebersole (D-12) for volunteering for his campaign.
Before I could gush too much at the sweetness of that, Ken and I were off on another topic. We remembered the many hours we’d spent this past year working the polls for particular candidates during early voting and on election day.
“I’m in extreme introvert. I would never approach anybody. You’re a good poll-worker,” he said, pontificating on our relative fitness for electioneering.
I disagreed. I told him I’m an extrovert in the classic sense, I wouldn’t deny that. I like socializing, I really do love talking to strangers. But I’m a Meyers-Briggs introvert and he’s not. By that I mean, I get incredibly drained by spending time around others. He really doesn’t seem to, judging by the hours upon hours I saw him standing at polls, sign in hand, for a particular candidate or candidates. He gave me a sidewise nod to indicate he agreed…sort-of.
“Well, I hope I’m still around,” Ken said when I asked him what his future in politics holds. I always look forward to the next campaign, the next legislative session. It’s self-defeating to fight about the last election.”
When it was time for me to go to a dentist appointment just down the road, I noticed among my papers that How a Bill Becomes a Law In the Maryland General Assembly that Ken had rattled off to me via email so fast you’d think it was a grocery list and so clearly you’d think he was teaching it to a class.
“Oh, Ken! What am I going to do with you!” I said, laughing. He laughed too, though I don’t think either of us really knew what I meant. It just seemed to fit.
As I drove out of the Harper’s Choice Village Center Parking Lot, I could see him still at our table. He finally got to take a bite of the oatmeal with fruit on top that my incessant questions had gotten in the way of for the last hour-and-fifteen-minutes. I stopped for a split second and watched him. I detected a slight smile on his face. I thought how an understanding that one must enjoy the little things in life (a thank you card) without getting hung up on the big things (a political loss) must be one reason we HoCo-ans have been lucky enough to share this home with the incredible Ken Stevens for so long.
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How a bill becomes law in the Maryland General Assembly a la Ken Stevens [I added the bolding in an as-yet vain hope that I’ll make a mnemonic out of this]:
- Somebody in Legislative Services will draft a bill at the request or a House or Senate member.
- The bill will get assigned to a House or Senate Committee depending whether it’s sponsored by a House of Senate member and what it’s about. (Different House or Senate committees deal with separate issues, although sometimes there is overlap and the bill will get assigned to two committees).
- The committee will schedule a public hearing during which they will hear from the bill’s sponsor and any member of the public who wants to testify in support, in support with amendment, or in opposition to the bill. Sponsors can talk at length, but members of the public may be limited to two or three minutes apiece.
- The bill goes to a subcommittee of the committee and the subcommittee can make a non-binding recommendation on how the committee should vote. If the full committee votes for an unfavorable report, the bill is likely dead. But some legislator on the floor may move that the unfavorable report be overturned. This move is rarely successful. If the full committee votes for either a favorable report or a favorable report with specific amendments, the bill goes to the floor that way.
- A bill goes through the process of three “readings” for introduction, opportunities to amend, and a final vote. It may take three days to a week to go through this process.
- In each body, final passage requires the affirmative vote of at least majority of its members. In the House, that’s 71 YES votes and, in the Senate, 24 YES votes. (A 70 for and 69 against vote in House or a 23 for and 22 against vote in the Senate means the bill fails. Thus, a majority of those voting does not cut it.)
- If the bill passes one body, it goes to a relevant committee in the other body. That opposite body committee will also schedule a public hearing. they’re not required to hear testimony from the public. They’ll hear only from the sponsor and (possibly) from VIPs.
- Otherwise, it goes through the same committee process as in the first committee. If they give it an unfavorable report, the bill is dead. They can give it a favorable report as they specifically amend it or a favorable report in the same shape that they got it from the first body. Since a bill can only be enacted if both House and Senate pass it in the same form, it’s possible that they can go back and forth until that happens. If it doesn’t happen, the bill is dead.
- If the bill is enacted, it goes to the governor for his signature, veto, or no action. If the governor ignores the bill for a certain number of days, it becomes law just as if he had signed it. If he vetoes it and there are more than six days left in the session, the possibility of overturning the veto while the session is ongoing is possible. It takes 29 affirmative votes in the Senate and 85 affirmative votes in the House for a successful veto overturn.
- If the governor vetoes a bill with less than six days left in the session or after the session, the legislators would have to wait for the first order of business during the next legislative session to attempt an override
Thanks for reading! Check back with us here at rocoinhoco.com every week as Robert, Colleen (and pup, Moses) get to know the many facets—one each week–of this prismatic place called Howard County. We want to take you along with us, so follow us on Twitter at @rocoinhoco, join our Facebook group, and follow us on Instagram at @rocoinhoco.