The Communication Habits of the Candidates for City Council District 2

I didn’t think organizing a simple AMA for City Council candidates in District 2 would turn into such a revealing experience. Honestly, I just wanted to make it easy for people in District 2 to ask questions—on their own time, no big production, just a straightforward format where everyone running could show up and speak directly to the community.

And to be clear: they all did. Every single candidate that I extended an invite to took advantage of the opportunity. But the process of getting there—the back and forth, the outreach, the setup—that part said a lot too. It didn’t go the same way with every candidate.

If a candidate can’t respond directly to constituents before they’re even elected, it raises valid concerns about how accessible, transparent, or accountable they’ll be once they’re in office—when the stakes, the power, and the shield of staff are even greater. When someone is campaigning to earn public trust and represent a district, ignoring personal outreach—especially when it’s clear they’ve seen it—is a signal. The people who are most responsive before they’re elected are usually the ones who stay that way after they are.

The Candidates & Their Communication Styles:

Allie Ryan messaged me directly. She had seen a Nextdoor post of mine, introduced herself, gave me her number to stay in contact, invited me to grab coffee, and asked about free legal clinics for tenants. She showed appreciation for my tenant advocacy platform, RentHistory.org, and just… talked like a real person. There was no barrier between us—just someone who clearly cared and wanted to connect.

Harvey Epstein was similar. His team was communicative, yes, but he preferred to email me himself—and he did more than once. He was outwardly appreciative of the effort I was putting in to help amplify his voice, and he thanked me directly more than once—as did Allie Ryan. There wasn’t any sense of “I’m too important to deal with this.” Allie Ryan and Harvey Epstein showed up, directly and fully.

Then there was Andrea Gordillo, who would open my emails—over and over again (the same email from me would be opened daily for several days by both her and her staff), before I would eventually get a response from her team. I never got a direct response from her despite her clearly seeing what I had written. Instead, I got a reply from a staffer—someone else speaking on her behalf.

Ms. Gordillo’s team was all very kind, but it isn’t them campaigning for the community’s trust. It isn’t them who will potentially occupy that seat on the Council.

Andrea Gordillo would frequently re-read my emails. (If you are wondering how I know when my emails are opened and by whom, I use MailSuite.)

Maybe that’s the way they wanted it. Maybe it’s about image, or staying removed, or just not wanting to take the time. I don’t know. But it was hard not to notice—because she’s not even in office yet, and it already felt like I was being kept at arm’s length.

Sarah Batchu was similar. Her team thanked me, and they were very kind. But I never heard from the candidate personally. Not once. No acknowledgment, no message… nothing.

And I feel a bit strange even sharing this, because I wasn’t organizing for recognition. I wasn’t asking for a medal. But I was organizing something for them, and for voters. When someone chooses not to say a single word to you while still benefiting from the event you organized for them—it makes you wonder how they’ll treat people who don’t have a platform or visibility at all.

The experience made it pretty clear who’s prepared to act like a true representative, and who just wants the title. I’m not here to tell you who to vote for. But I do think you deserve to know how people handle basic human interaction, because that isn’t going to magically change once they’re in office.

We deserve a representative who goes out of their way to connect with constituents, not to ignore them.