Creating America: My campaign manager was Roosevelt

Chapter 181 Questioning

The awards ceremony is still ongoing.

The spotlight still shone brightly, and the applause was still enthusiastic.

But Leo's mind had already wandered far away.

For the next ten minutes or so, he was like a precisely programmed machine.

Smile, shake hands, hand over the certificate, take a photo, turn around.

Every movement was perfectly executed, but his eyes seemed to be veiled by a layer of mist.

His brain was working at high speed, and the complex flow of funds was intertwined before his eyes.

If Saint-Cloud really did pull something behind the scenes, then this financial purge of the Rust Belt might have started sooner than he imagined. He watched the students walk up to receive their awards, their faces young and excited, while inwardly plotting how to clean up the personnel structure of the Finance Bureau.

He no longer had any expectations for today's ceremony.

Finding even one Marcus Thorne would be enough to break even.

The boy who could smell the crisis in the massive and tedious data stream was his only solace at that moment.

As for the remaining people, they are most likely just well-behaved children with excellent grades who are obedient and sensible.

"The next winner."

Ethan returned to the microphone and glanced at the list.

Elena Rodriguez.

"From Allegheny Community College, majoring in Social Work."

A young girl stood up from the crowd.

She walked quickly, her footsteps heavy on the wooden floor.

Leo habitually adjusted his posture, preparing for the next round of handshakes and thanks.

But when the girl stepped into the circle of light, Leo's gaze froze.

She was completely different from the students in front of her, who were wearing cheap suits and trying hard to act like adults.

She was wearing faded jeans with two worn patches at the knees.

He was wearing an old T-shirt with Che Guevara's image printed on it, and a cheap denim jacket over it.

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Her hair was casually tied into a ponytail, with a few stray strands hanging down her forehead and sticking to her skin with sweat.

His skin had a healthy wheat color, a mark left by years of working on the streets.

She stood there, not like a student receiving an award, but more like a little leopard ready to bar its teeth at any moment.

The information flashed through Leo's mind: Elena Rodriguez, 20 years old, organizer of the Brooklyn Tenants' Coalition. Leo picked up the certificate and check and politely extended his right hand.

"Congratulations, Elena."

The girl stopped a meter in front of Leo.

She looked at Leo's outstretched hand, at the unrespecting depths of his dark brown eyes, where only two burning flames resided. She did not reach out.

His hands hung at his sides, his fists clenched tightly.

The air below instantly became thin.

Sarah, sitting in the front row, stood up nervously and gestured to the security personnel to the side to prepare to intervene.

Leo narrowed his eyes slightly.

He raised his left hand and made a gesture to stop the security guard who was about to rush forward.

He looked at the girl as if she were a reflection in a mirror.

Elena suddenly took a step forward.

She grabbed the microphone stand that was standing in front of Leo and forcefully turned it toward herself.

"Mr. Mayor."

Her voice trembled slightly, with a heavy Latin accent.

"My receiving this award does not mean that I endorse you."

"I will absolutely not say thank you to you."

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

The audience members who had been clapping or whispering were stunned and opened their mouths wide.

Ignoring the surrounding noise, Elena stared intently at Leo, pulled a crumpled rent overdue notice from her pocket, and slammed it hard on the floor.

"I took this money because I need to pay next month's rent. My landlord notified me last week that the rent had increased by 30%. If I don't pay, I'll be sleeping on the streets tonight."

"And the reason my landlord raised the rent is entirely thanks to you."

Elena's finger pointed straight at Leo's nose.

"You talk about revival on TV, about ports, about those grand blueprints."

"You said you wanted to renovate the commercial streets of Brooklyn and turn them into some kind of cultural corridor."

"That sounds really nice."

"Do you know what this means?"

Elena's eyes burned with rage.

"That means those speculators will come running as soon as they smell the scent!"

"This means our community is being purged by capital!"

"This means that long-time neighbors who have lived there for decades are being evicted because they can't afford the sudden rent hikes, and are forced to move to more remote and dilapidated places!"

"Your prosperity has driven up rents, but it hasn't provided us with any protection!"

"You've repaired the road and planted the trees, but who are they for? Are they for us? They're just to inflate the price of this land so they can sell it to bloodsuckers like Morganfield!"

"This is called gentrification! This is called expulsion!"

Elena's voice choked, and tears welled up in her eyes, but she stubbornly held her head high, refusing to let them fall.

"Also, you said you represent the workers."

"You're on friendly terms with Frank and his unionmen, and you pay them high salaries."

"But what about us?"

"What about the non-union members washing dishes in restaurant kitchens? What about the temporary workers cleaning hotels? What about the undocumented immigrants delivering food?"

"Who represents them?"

"Your revitalization plan is full of promises to steelworkers and pandering to construction unions."

"But there isn't a single word about us, the most marginalized, the most silent, and the ones without union protection!"

"You only make deals between big corporations and powerful unions; you only take care of those who have voting rights and organizational skills."

"And we are still the price to pay."

Elena took a deep breath and shouted out the most jarring accusation.

"You are becoming the kind of person you used to hate the most, Mr. Mayor."

"You've put on a suit, and you've learned to drink red wine with capitalists."

"You've forgotten where you came from."

Leo looked at Elena.

In the girl's angry eyes, he saw himself three years ago.

That version of myself, working in a coffee shop, worrying about outstanding debts, filled with anger towards the entire system, and believing all politicians to be liars. That's how he looked at Cartwright back then.

Angry, uncompromising, full of idealism, but also full of prejudice.

Roosevelt's voice echoed in my mind.

"This girl represents those corners yet to be covered by your new policies, those forgotten silent ones." "You need this fire."

"You need someone to scream in your ear and sting you when you're feeling arrogant."

"This will prevent you from becoming a cold-blooded dictator."

"Don't send her away."

"Let her finish speaking."

"Mr. President."

Leo responded from the depths of his consciousness.

"I never intended to get rid of her."

Leo continued in his mind, "Do you think I'm like those guilty bureaucrats, afraid of being exposed in public? Do you think I'm like Cartwright, getting angry and embarrassed because someone pointed out my mistakes?"

"No."

"I'm not afraid."

"Because I have done the right thing."

Leo stared at the angry girl in front of him, his eyes showing no sign of flinching.

"I did a lot of dirty work for the revitalization of this city; I rolled in the mud and walked in the dark."

"But I didn't put a single penny into my own pocket."

"I sacrificed myself for this city. I bore the infamy and the pressure, all so that the lights here could stay on a little longer."

"Because I have a clear conscience, I have no need to hide anything."

"Because I really want to make Pittsburgh a better place, I dare to face all the anger."

"If I make a mistake, I admit it. If I overlook something, I fix it."

"Politicians will cover up their mistakes because they are afraid of losing power."

"But leaders will correct their mistakes because they are accountable to the people."

"This openness is my source of confidence."

Silence followed.

Everyone held their breath, watching the two people in the center of the dance.

Leo took a deep breath.

He didn't need to pretend when facing Elena or the people.

He took a step forward and approached the girl who was clutching the microphone stand and trembling all over.

He stood beside Elena.

He did not refute, defend, or use his skillful political rhetoric to dismantle the logical flaws in the girl's words.

He simply looked at her, his eyes sincere.

"You're right, Elena."

Leo's voice was low, but it was clearly transmitted through the microphone to every corner of the venue.

"I've been at a high place for too long."

"I sit in that office on the third floor of the city hall with huge floor-to-ceiling windows. Every day I look at the maps on the wall, the data jumping on the computer screen, and the charts that represent funding and project progress."

"I thought I saw the whole city."

"I thought I had the pulse of everything."

"But I was wrong."

Leo turned around, facing the audience below and all the camera lenses.

"Sometimes, when you stand too high, you really can't see the cracks in the ground."

"For the sake of the overall situation, for the so-called strategy, and to ensure the rapid implementation of the revitalization plan, I did sacrifice some things and neglect some people."

Leo's voice became heavy.

"The revitalization brought prosperity, but it also had side effects. The influx of capital and the commencement of projects inevitably led to rising land and commodity prices. This is a basic economic law, and I anticipated this."

"But I haven't done enough."

"I was busy dealing with bonds and arranging projects, but I forgot about the pressure that the most vulnerable group, the tenants, were under in the process."

"I failed to implement rent stabilization measures in a timely manner and failed to establish a firewall to protect tenants from eviction. This has led to your predicament and put citizens like you at risk of becoming homeless."

"This is my dereliction of duty."

Leo readily admitted to all of this.

"And then there are the rights of non-union workers," Leo continued, "that's also a blind spot for me."

"I'm focused on the steel, on the ports, on the large unions that can organize and make their voices heard. Because they have power, they can help me build the city."

"But I forgot about those who wash dishes in restaurant kitchens, those who deliver food late at night, and those who have no organization, no voice, and no legal status."

"They were also builders of this city, and they should also enjoy the benefits of its revitalization."

"And I ignored them."

Leo paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the entire arena.

"Power can blind you, it can deaf you."

"It will surround you in an information cocoon with countless praises and applause, making you think that everything is perfect."

"That's why I need you."

"I need someone like Elena."

Leo pointed to the girl next to him.

"I need someone to point their finger at me and yell at me, 'Leo Wallace, what did you do wrong? What didn't you do well enough?'" "I need that sting to keep me awake."

Leo looked at Elena again.

The anger in the girl's eyes wavered slightly because of Leo's unreserved honesty.

Her tense body relaxed slightly, and her hands gripping the microphone less tightly.

She had anticipated being expelled, ridiculed, or even ignored.

She was ready to embrace the power of arrogance.

But she never expected to be recognized and respected.

Leo handed the check to Elena.

"Take the check; it's what you deserve, it's proof of your excellence, not hush money."

"But, Elena, money alone won't solve the problem."

Leo looked into her eyes.

"You've vented your anger and taken your money and left. Next month, your landlord might raise the rent again. And those dishwashers still have no job security."

Do you want to change all of this?

"Not just for yourself, but also for the tenant alliance behind you, and for all those like you."

"I..." Elena froze, her mouth agape instinctively. "Of course I want to."

"Then don't leave."

Leo extended an invitation.

"If you don't like it here, if you think there are loopholes in my policies."

"Then come with me and let's make it better."

"Since you are the organizer of the tenant alliance, you must have first-hand information."

"You have specific data on rent increases, and real-life cases of evicted tenants. You know better than I do exactly where the problem lies and how deep the pain points are."

"Tomorrow morning at nine o'clock, bring your data and your proposal to the mayor's office to see me."

Leo's gaze was intense, full of challenge.

"Let's talk about how to incorporate rent control provisions into the third phase of the revitalization plan."

"How can we use the administrative power of the city hall to establish a mechanism to protect the rights and interests of non-union workers?"

"How can we make those speculators pay the price?"

"This is not just empty talk; it is my promise to you."

Leo reached out his hand.

"Do you dare to come?"

"Do you dare to transform from a protester into a builder?"

"Do you dare to take on the responsibility of changing this city?"

Elena looked at the hand outstretched in front of her.

Her breathing became rapid.

She came here simply to vent her despair, to utter one last cry in her desperate situation.

But now, that person who was once so high and mighty has come down and extended an invitation to her to solve the problem.

This is an opportunity.

Elena bit her lip and carefully slipped the check into her pocket.

Then, she reached out her hand.

"I dare."

Elena raised her head, tears finally streaming down her face, but her eyes were brighter than ever.

"I will be there promptly at nine o'clock tomorrow morning."

"If you dare to give me the runaround, I'll bring the tenants' alliance and tear your office down."

Leo smiled.

It's a deal.

He released his grip, took a step back, and led the applause.

"Whoosh!"

Applause erupted from below.

At first, the crowd was sparse, which was the subconscious reaction of people shocked by the scene.

But soon, the applause grew more frequent and enthusiastic, eventually coalescing into a massive wave of sound that nearly lifted the roof off the auditorium. It was applause from the heart.

The workers were clapping, the students were clapping, and the parents were clapping.

They saw an imperfect mayor, someone who makes mistakes and has blind spots.

But what they saw even more was a genuine, open, and willing leader who listened to and corrected himself.

This authenticity is more moving than any perfect political packaging.

Leo stood there, watching the figure stubbornly wipe away her tears, turn around, and walk off the stage.

He knew he had gotten himself into big trouble.

Tomorrow morning, he will have to face a host of thorny new problems, have to take away more people's interests, and have to engage in a new round of games, but he has never felt so at ease.

Because he knew he was doing the right thing.

He was repairing the foundation.

"Well done, son."

Roosevelt's voice echoed in my mind, filled with satisfaction.

"You are building a real empire."

"You are putting a beating heart into this cold machine."

"With this heart, your empire is alive."

Leo took a deep breath and picked up the microphone again.

"The awards ceremony continues."

His voice was steady and powerful.

"Next."