An Afternoon at the New York City Hall
12 noon. Outside City Hall, small crowds were already forming. Different groups in different colors gathered in different spots around the building as they waited to be let inside.
On a dreary cloudy Wednesday, unbeknown to New Yorkers going about their daily lives, decisions would be made inside the stately council chambers of the building that would affect their lives.
It was that time of the month again – the Stated Meeting, the one day each month when City Council members meet to vote on bills. The agenda for October 30 promised to be particularly eventful. From animal rights to waste management, the bills seemed to capture the eclectic diversity of New York itself.
It had also brought together disparate groups who had gathered in cheerful spirits, undeterred by the gloomy weather. On Broadway, animal activists decked out in blue held up signs: “End Animal Cruelty Now!” “Ban Foie Gras: A Product of Cruelty.” They were from Voters For Animal Rights, a nonprofit organization.
United by a passion for animal welfare, they were expecting a bill banning foie gras to be passed. But ducks weren’t their only concern; horses, wild ducks, and other animals would also have their lives changed for the better. Other bills included one that would protect horses from working in too-humid weather. An animal welfare office was to be created. And the capture and transfer of wild birds would be banned. (Pigeons in the city had been trapped and transported to other states to be used as targets in shooting – who knew?)
Noticeably absent were the restauranteurs and duck farm owners.
“The restaurants aren’t here today,” said one of the activists. “They came the last couple of times but they lost those arguments.”
By the fountain in the center of City Hall park, members of the Teamsters union wore purple as their color of solidarity. They were joined by the New York City Environmental Justice Alliance and the New York Lawyers for the Public Interest.
Together they had been advocating for the commercial waste zones bill. They strained to listen to Antonio Reynoso, whose speech was being drowned out by the cacophony of the cascading water in the fountain behind them. Reynoso is the council member who had been working with them on the bill. If passed, it would overhaul waste and recycling collecting in the city, an unchecked, haphazard system that had been plagued by numerous environmental, labor, and safety issues. 20 zones would be created across the city, which had been free-for-all previously. Each zone would be served by a maximum of three private waste-hauler companies.
On the other side of City Hall, a line for the public was beginning to form. Danny Munoz from Jackson Heights was at the front of the line, waiting to be let in. He had been attending every Stated Meeting for the past two years because of his work in a government consultancy firm. His firm worked with advocacy groups and council members on the issues raised at City Hall. Munoz, whose family emigrated from Colombia to New York when he was 11, is studying part time for a law degree at CUNY. He hopes to go into criminal and immigration law.
And this gathering of incongruent groups coalesced inside City Hall. Inside the gallery overlooking the chambers, the animal rights activists sat next to laborers from the Laborers’ International Union of North America, who were wearing their LiUNA shirts proudly in support of the commercial waste zones bill.
On the other side of the animal activists was a small contingent from Families for Safe Streets. They included Debbie and Harold Kahn, whose son, Seth Kahn, died after being hit by a city bus in 2009. They were here for Speaker Corey Johnson’s master plan bill, a five-year, $1.7 billion plan that would add more bike and bus lanes, with the promise of creating safer streets.
With pictures of their son in their hands, the Kahns looked on with weary faces lined by 10 years of grief. When Johnson spoke at length about the bill, why it was important, and addressed the Kahns personally up in the gallery, Harold Kahn blew his nose into his handkerchief and silently wiped away tears. The passing of the bill would not bring his son back. But at least other parents might not have to suffer their grief.
The afternoon wore on as each bill was discussed. And then the part of the afternoon most people had been waiting for—the voting. Most members voted “aye” and shared passionately about their reasons, which evoked fervent nods and hand waves from the people in the gallery upstairs. The few dissenting votes were met with hisses.
4:05 p.m. Anticipation was in the air as the votes were counted for each bill. Up in the balcony, the different groups could barely hold in their excitement. Many had been keeping close count, scribbling the “yeses” and “nos” on pieces of paper and notebooks as the members shared their votes.
And then the moment of truth. Laurie Cumbro, the council’s majority leader, announced that all the bills had passed.
Eddie Bautista, executive director of the New York City Environmental Justice Alliance, was elated. “I can go home and tell my son when he goes out on weekends, he won’t have to worry about turning a corner and being hit by a truck,” he said. “And when he plays on the streets in the summertime, he’ll have better air.”
The animal activists gave up trying to stay silent. They cheered and whooped. Below, Cumbro called for silence. “This meeting is still in session,” she said, exasperated.
But the day was over for the different groups. People began moving out of the gallery. High-fives and hugs were exchanged. Someone called for celebratory drinks at a nearby pub.
And outside City Hall, New Yorkers continued with their lives, unaware of the changes that would soon trickle into their lives.
