Only in one other brief season over the past seven decades has Albany been able to call someone "mayor-elect." So there's a stature already attached to Kathy Sheehan, one that Jerry Jennings enjoyed for some weeks in 1993 and, before that, last was linked to the guy who in 1941 succeeded Mayor Herman Hoogkamp. (Yes, it was his real name.)
That is, in 10 days a diminutive Illinois-born redhead who can still be overlooked in a roomful of well-dressed folks will take over the job that the iconic Erastus Corning 2nd held for 42 years, the longest mayoral term in American history — the job, Jerry Jennings has fully inhabited for 20 years.
And what may be most significant about the shift from the Jennings era to the Sheehan mayoralty — a bigger change than when Thomas M. Whalen III, who inherited the job after Corning died, yielded it to Jennings after 10 years — is that Sheehan is a woman.
It's not that upstate cities haven't seen female mayors, including Karen Johnson, who led Schenectady for eight years starting in 1984, and Stephanie Miner, who is about to start her second four-year term in Syracuse.
We're familiar with plenty of successful women in politics. In recent weeks we've seen three mostly adoring profiles in national publications of U.S. Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand, who has enjoyed remarkable electoral success since squeaking out her first congressional win in a Capital Region district just seven years ago. And there was her Senate predecessor, you know, whom many folks believe will be preparing to move back into the White House in three years. It's no big deal nowadays to have a woman in political power.
But Sheehan's challenge is to take the place of a guy who is — well, a real guy Jennings is a good-sized fellow, but he's an even larger personality, and a lot of what you'd have to call a mostly successful tenure is linked to a particular style of leadership associated with men.
You won't see Sheehan squeezing shoulders and pinching cheeks, both of which Jennings has been known to do while making the rounds of social events, which he does almost every night. She doesn't call people "kid" or "babe" or even "boy," the latter being how Jennings (affectionately, maybe) referred to a member of the Common Council yesterday. She's unlikely to hang out in a bar with cops and firefighters or fill her social calendar with trips to NFL games with preferred developers. It looks like she won't be taking over the mayor's weekly radio gig on Talk 1300, a station that has the most guy-focused programming I've ever heard. (Has radio elsewhere ever paid so much attention to guns, horse racing and Siena basketball?)
Being just a guy has worked pretty well for Jerry Jennings. His outsized image has cast his city as being like him: tough but accessible, with aspirations held a bit in check by working-class roots. He has been the archetypical Irish cop walking a beat: fundamentally honest, trying to make sure everybody gets a fair break, but not too welcoming of change that might unsettle the neighborhood. He knows who his friends are likely to be, and they're warmed by his embrace.
This is not how women lead. A lot of research suggests that women in management roles usually are more flexible, inclusive, collaborative and collegial. Because they have a stronger need to get things done, they are more likely to take risks.
That bodes well for a mayor who needs to work with community groups, city agencies, unions and an increasingly assertive Common Council. But policy effectiveness doesn't necessarily translate into political success, and managing isn't the same as leading. In a city accustomed to Jennings' style, Sheehan's success may hinge on sidestepping her predecessor's shadow, to self-define her take on leadership.
A little more than four years ago, when Sheehan first presented herself to voters as a candidate for city treasurer, she met with the Times Union editorial board. I recall telling a colleague as she left, "That's the most impressive first-time local candidate I've ever met." She is smart and determined. Whether she has the political skills to be a good mayor remains to be seen.
We are in an era when it's not unusual to find women in leadership roles: chiefs of state and prime ministers, heads of the International Monetary Fund and the Fed, governors and senators. Each time a woman takes over a role for the first time, though, there's a resettling.
A recent Harvard Business Review article (written by three women) reported that the key for women leaders is "the often fragile process of coming to see oneself, and to be seen by others, as a leader ... a fundamental identity shift."
It's a critical moment for Albany, challenged by scarce resources yet emboldened by a seeming trend toward reurbanization and renewal. The city needs a great new leader. That may begin with the mayor-elect seeing herself, and projecting herself, as exactly that woman.