That CMCers pursue elected office at nearly every level is no surprise, considering the College’s mission to educate future leaders. A walk through Collins Dining Hall any day reveals students intently arguing politics and public policy. And if the life of a politician can at times be grueling, it still holds allure. Explains government professor Jack Pitney, “Politics can be fun. It’s poker, chess, and the World Wrestling Federation all in one.”

Eleven CMCers, from local school board representatives to members of Congress, share their thoughts about running for public office—the challenges and motivations, the risks and the rewards.

Geoffrey Baum ’85, former CMC assistant vice president of marketing and public relations, and now director of public affairs for USC’s Annenberg School for Communication, was elected last fall to the Pasadena City College Board of Trustees. The board guides and manages the two-year community college, which serves 30,000 students from Pasadena, Calif., and the surrounding foothill communities, with an annual budget of more than $100 million.

Baum says the experience of working in higher education at CMC and USC helped lead him into his first bid for public office. But even more than the management skills he learned as a college administrator, Baum says, he values the lessons he learned at CMC and from his family that leadership begins with responsibility to the community. “To those whom much is given, much is expected,” he says.

“CMC played a big role in my campaign,” he added. “Support from alumni like Bill Podlich, Bob Lowe, David Mgrublian, and Ray Remy was very encouraging, and along with some kind words from David Dreier, I was able to win 51 percent of the vote in a hotly contested election against three other candidates.”

Is this a jumping-off point for other offices? “Not right now,” says Baum, “but I believe we all share responsibility for our neighbors, our schools, and our communities.

“The best way I can plan for the future is to work hard today on behalf of Pasadena City College.”

Ken Cheuvront ’83 was elected to the Arizona House of Representatives in 1994. As minority leader of the House, the Democrat’s confident, reassuring voice contrasts sharply with his words: “Arizona is bankrupt. These are tough times for a state legislature.”

Cheuvront says he decided to pursue public office eight years ago because “Arizona did not reflect my views, and I needed to participate.” But even in childhood, he was being primed for public ofice. “In 1972, I can remember being glued to the TV, watching election returns until 2 a.m.,” Cheuvront recalls. “I thought to myself, ‘This is my life!’ I was an armchair political guru by age 11.”

But realizing his guru potential did not come without sacrifice.

“You have to give up a tremendous amount of personal time to be at the forefront of issues,” Cheuvront says. “I lost a relationship of six years because of the time commitments to the job. It’s hard to balance priorities to make time to focus on another person. And there’s a real challenge with privacy.”

But sacrifice comes with the life, he says.

“Life without politics,” Cheuvront says, “wouldn’t be as fulfilling.”

Down the hall and across the aisle, Republican Steve May ’93 is battling the same Arizona issues. Why does he fight?

“Some days I wonder,” he admits, laughing. “There definitely are days when you come home and think, ‘Wow, I did something great for the state of Arizona.’ But most days you come home frustrated that it’s so hard to make change, and that every day is a battle to do good. When you are arguing bills at 3 a.m., it’s also physically exhausting.”

May, who doubled-majored in psychology and politics, philosophy, and economics (PPE) at CMC, ended up in the legislature because he knew he wasn’t ready for Congress, but he was ready to serve.

Cheuvront says May’s motto should be, “No issue is too controversial to take on.” May first appeared on the public scene in 1999 when, as a young legislator, he fought against the U.S. Army’s policy of mandatory discrimination against gay and lesbian soldiers. Publicly acknowledging his homosexuality (rather than adhering to the Army’s “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy) nearly cost May his commission as an Army Reserve lieutenant because of comments he made during legislative debate in 1999.

“Regardless of the specific position, we all face the same challenges,” May says. “The sheer difficulty of getting anything done is surprising. The American system is designed to maintain status quo.”

May and Cheuvront agree on the pressures facing all candidates. “Who cares about a state legislator?” May wonders aloud. “Well, it turns out that lots of people do. I am surprised how many people listen to what I say. Any offhand comment can result in a flood of calls and letters. There are no secrets at the state capitol.”

“If you want to stay in this game,” he says, “you have to have a big enough ego to believe you are making a difference.”

Ken Cheuvront '83, minority leader of the Arizona House of Representatives


Former Arizona legislator Steve May '93. In a narrow defeat, May lost the September 2002 Republican primary for state representative in Arizona's 11th district by a reported 58 votes.