Immediately following the guilty verdicts in the trial against former IBEW Local 98 leader John ‘Johnny Doc’ Dougherty and council member Bobby Henon, there was a deafening silence from almost everyone. everyone at City Hall.

In the game of Philadelphia politics, that wasn’t all that surprising. With Dougherty at the top, Local 98 was the city’s chief power broker, donating millions of dollars each election season to candidates running for municipal and statewide office.

Councilor María Quiñones-Sánchez is one of the few still in a position that has often ended up on the other end of that money.

“I don’t want to dissociate the fact that this particular union has invested more money than anyone else in trying to ensure that I don’t get re-elected,” she said in a recent interview with AL DIA. “And we beat them four times.”

That’s part of the reason Quiñones-Sánchez didn’t argue the consequences of Dougherty and Henon’s convictions to talk about the need to change the way business is done at City Hall.

Beyond state-level Rep. Jared Solomon in Harrisburg, she remains the only Philadelphia official to say anything.

But portraying Quiñones-Sánchez’s public response to corruption as merely an attempt to confront political rivals is only part of the story.

For her, the reality of corruption in the Philadelphia government is something she dealt with long before she decided to run for office. As a longtime resident of her neighborhood, Quiñones-Sánchez has seen firsthand the depths of political rot that can be reached.

Take his predecessor in District 7 on City Council. Councilman Richard Mariano, backed by Johnny Doc’s IBEW Local 98, represented the district for 10 years between 1996 and 2006 before a corruption conviction landed him in jail for five years.

Twenty years before Mariano, when Quiñones-Sánchez was a teenager, District 7 Councilman Harry Jannotti was one of three Philadelphia City Council members convicted of accepting a bribe, extortion and a conspiracy as part of Abscam. The FBI’s sting on public corruption also brought down a number of elected federal officials and marked the first time members of Congress were caught accepting bribes.

At the state level, residents in parts of the district have also seen recent Representatives like Leslie Acosta fall for conspiracy to commit money laundering and senators like Vince Fumo convicted of a total of 137 charges. of corruption.

This has been a constant for the predominantly Latino district which consistently has the lowest voter turnout of any district at election time.

“People will tell me, ‘Latinos don’t vote,'” Quiñones-Sánchez said. “And I try to explain to them that it’s because they don’t see any value in their vote because they’ve been through all this corruption.”

The word she used to sum it up was “apathy”. Apathy in the face of corruption, but also in the face of a government that never seems to work for them, given that the neighborhood also remains one of the most disinvested in the city. The combination makes it difficult for Quiñones-Sánchez to convince his constituents otherwise.

“I think, unlike any other part of town, in my neighborhood … it’s an obstacle that I face every day,” she said. “So for me, this kind of activity, I take it very personal.”

When the indictments first came to light against Dougherty and Henon, Quiñones-Sánchez also sat alone to ask Henon to resign from the board.

These appeals went unanswered until the first Council meeting of 2022, as Henon tendered his resignation on the morning of Thursday, January 20. He initially said he would stay until his sentencing on February 22.

Quiñones-Sánchez also delved into the legislative issue that was at the center of Henon and Johnny Doc’s lawsuit — Henon’s $70,000 annual salary he received for a position he maintained at the union while being paid. six figures as a member. of the city council.

The union salary was what jurors determined Johnny Doc was essentially using to buy Henon’s vote and control of his place on the city council.

Quiñones-Sánchez’s new bill, which was introduced Dec. 16, 2021, caps what city council members can earn from side jobs at $25,000. This is a total amount of all side jobs an individual holds combined, not per gig.

In public appearances around the issue before introducing the bill, Quiñones-Sánchez seemed more in line with the goal of banning all outside employment for council members, but shows a level of compromise with the 25,000 cap. $.

“Anyone who sits on city council and says they have time to do other things is not serving their constituents,” she said during the unveiling of her People Over Politics petition by Rep. Jared Solomon on transparency in funding for the city. campaign on November 29.

Speaking to AL DÍA, Quiñones-Sánchez clarified that for her, the city council is “more than a full-time job” representing some of Philadelphia’s toughest neighborhoods, but pointed to some side gigs that benefit work more. carried out. by the city council, such as speaking engagements or taking up an adjunct professorship.

These roles, she said, are “helpful in expanding the worldview that people have of the council, and the work that we do, the policy work that we’ve done.”

“Teaching in a college or doing educational work is very different from some board member having to be on the board and abstaining because there’s a potential conflict of interest,” Quiñones-Sánchez said.

Speaking of conflicts of interest, the bill also requires more transparency when a council member could benefit financially from legislation under consideration.

As it stands, if a bill financially benefits a wide range of people in addition to the council member, a conflict of interest is avoided. In the Quiñones-Sánchez bill, a wide range of financial beneficiaries does not mean that there is no conflict of interest.

The objective of the bill, beyond the limitation of outside income, is to increase transparency.

“I think the best we can do is ask people to disclose,” Quiñones-Sánchez said. “And then voters have to choose if they want to continue voting for someone who has to abstain permanently based on some of the conversations going on.”

For that same reason, she said she hasn’t received much pushback from her city council colleagues on the bill despite their continued silence, which Quiñones-Sánchez also said she s expects to change as the bill goes through committee hearings.

As to why she always finds herself the only one speaking now, the longtime city council member referenced the lesson she had the hardest time learning as part of the legislature.

“People are truly elected by the constituencies they represent…they are respectful and loyal to the people who supported them,” Quiñones-Sánchez said.

This seems like a great way to frame a dynamic where big-capital organizations like Local 98 can reign supreme, but she also said there needs to be nuance in the approach.

“I think it’s normal for people to say, ‘I’m aligned with Local 98 for everything they stand for, everyone knows they take care of their members, but at the same time, that kind of work crosses the line,” Quiñones-Sánchez said, referring to the Johnny Doc case. “I think people need to find comfort in accessing that space.”

Beyond the bill, she is also pushing for more campaign finance transparency through the People Over Politics petition alongside PA Rep. Jared Solomon.

Its goal is to hold a series of talks in neighborhoods around the city to talk about campaign finance and start pushing the idea of ​​publicly funded elections. Quiñones-Sánchez supported fellow Council member Derek Green in his efforts to secure public funding before the pandemic, and now she’s bringing it back.

“I think it’s an opportunity to have this conversation and try to get more feedback from residents about their willingness to do this,” she said.

In short, public funding would use taxpayers’ money to fund candidates’ primary and general election campaigns. When Green was pushing it in 2019, the city was expecting a $439 million budget surplus from real estate and business tax revenue.

Regardless of whether officials are interested in talking about corruption in Philadelphia’s government, the fact is that there is a mayoral election in 2023 where questions about Johnny Doc’s verdict will be the ones every viable candidate will have to have answers.

As for the potential Quiñones-Sánchez run, it’s still just that on paper. She told AL DÍA that she is “listening and talking to people” and “definitely” considers 2023 the year of the woman.

Philadelphia has had 99 mayors in its history, all of whom have been men.

“I definitely see some highly qualified women, and I want to stay in that mix,” Quiñones-Sánchez said of those who are expected to come forward. “But when I look at the field of who aspires and given my work, I absolutely see myself in the top two.”