E-Mail This Article to a Friend Perception versus reality in District Four (continued) BY SUSAN RYAN-VOLLMAR

DOES YANCEY CARE? It’s a ridiculous question. Of course he cares. He grew up in Boston, on Savin Street in Roxbury. He attended Boston public schools, graduating from Boston Technical High School, now known as the John D. O’Bryant High School of Mathematics & Science, in 1966. He holds a bachelor’s degree in economics from Tufts University and a master’s in public administration from Harvard University. He and his wife, Marzetta, have raised four children in their Hooper Avenue home, the youngest of whom will be a junior at John D. O’Bryant High School in September. He’s devoted 20 years of his life to public service as a city councilor, including a stint as president of the Boston City Council, the first African-American to hold the post. How could he not care? "I’m very vested in the city," he says matter-of-factly.

But is he vested in the district? Despite complaints that he does little for his constituents, Yancey can point to some impressive accomplishments. The Mattapan Police Station, on the corner of Blue Hill Avenue and Morton Street, is there, in large part thanks to Yancey’s efforts back in the 1980s when Flynn was mayor. The Gallivan Community Center on Woodruff Way in Mattapan was also built with financing arranged by Yancey. Director Beverly Mines says Yancey has been "very instrumental" in supporting the efforts of the community center. The same goes for another community center built as part of the Mildred Avenue Middle School. He arranged for financing of a study of Mattapan’s economic development. He got a $10 million loan order for the Mattapan Library passed in 1997. He’s already pushed through a $60 million loan order to build a high school in Mattapan, though the mayor rejected it.

But last year, under Yancey’s watch, the Boston City Council approved a redistricting plan that will split the community of Mattapan in two. Half will remain in District Four; half goes to District Five (Roslindale and Hyde Park), currently served by Councilor Consalvo. Local activists were furious, as the move will dilute the community’s clout. Would this have happened to West Roxbury? How could Yancey, with his 20-year tenure, let this happen? Yancey’s reply? "Well, there are a lot of things I haven’t been able to stop. You need seven votes on the council.... Senator Kennedy has been in office for a long time and we still don’t have universal health coverage."

The newly redrawn district is, in a word, diverse. If it’s not the most diverse of all the city-council districts, then it’s easily one of the most eclectic. It’s home to the gorgeous grand homes of Melville Park (where luminaries like the Reverend Eugene Rivers and Yancey himself reside), as well as to the triple deckers of Bowdoin Street, where a three-year-old girl was recently shot while playing on her front porch. It includes the Caribbean-immigrant community of Mattapan, a burgeoning gay community in Ashmont Hill, and the working-class residents of Grove Hall. It includes some of the boarded-up storefronts along portions of Blue Hill Avenue, along with bustling Fields Corner, home to the Blarney Stone, an Irish pub-café that serves veggie burgers (and opens its doors to political fundraisers — an Ezedi party at the Blarney Stone back in April netted $3500).

When you talk with people active in their various communities within the district about the emerging race between Yancey and Ezedi, you get, not surprisingly, a range of opinions. One long-time Dorchester activist says she’s in a "quandary" about whom to vote for. So much so that she isn’t even sure she’ll vote in the district race, which is why she doesn’t want her name published — she doesn’t want her friends to know she’s thinking about blanking the ballot. "I know that Yancey has been more show than substance," she says. "But Ego seems a little bit slick to me. He’s not saying Yancey is wrong on this, this, and this. He is saying, ‘I will represent you better.’ I’m inclined to not vote in that race unless I have some greater clarity on what makes sense." The one bright spot? "At least we’ll have a black person representing us."

Ginny Guild is another long-time Dorchester activist who worked on one of Yancey’s first campaigns for office and who’s been involved, most recently, in the newly formed group Dorchester for Peace. Guild is backing Yancey. "I think he’s done a fine job," she says. "I intend to support him.... I don’t know what people mean by bringing home the bacon to the district. The city council has somewhat limited powers." For the record, she wants everyone who complains about Yancey’s meeting attendance to know that the city councilor has attended every function her group has invited him to.

And then take Deb Hull. She and her husband moved to Codman Square from Chestnut Hill in Newton a little more than two years ago, after their three girls had graduated from high school. "In Chestnut Hill, we opened our front door and everybody looked like us — which is pretty boring," Hull says. In Dorchester, she’s become active in the Ashmont Hill Association. "[Yancey] is never around. He’s not visible except for his literacy campaign," Hull says. Through those meetings, she came to know Ezedi. "He’s exciting us," she reports. "I believe in Ego’s message."

THIS IS A RACE more about perception than policy. Yancey’s noble intentions aside, the city council has little authority to do more than approve the budget and educate the public on city issues through the public-hearing process. While Yancey has the benefit of incredible name recognition throughout the district and, as Forry puts it, "knows where the bodies are buried in City Hall," he can’t afford to be seen as someone who doesn’t care.

Ezedi, meanwhile, has staked out a reasonable position when he talks about delivering constituent services, although those are difficult to deliver if you aren’t in the mayor’s favor. But he cannot afford to be tagged as a minion of Mayor Tom Menino. Nor can he really afford to be seen as beholden to socially-conservative-leaning African-American clergy. Not when so many of the few voters who actually turn out for District Four elections (last time around, which was a mayoral election year with much higher turnout than we’re likely to see this fall, Yancey got 6164 votes; in 1999, he won just 2240) are old-fashioned liberals.

There are 14 weeks until the November 4 election. (If Arthur L. Sutton Jr., who took out nomination papers for the same race, collects enough signatures to get on the ballot, there will be a preliminary election September 23; signature papers must be submitted to City Hall by July 29.) Yes, Yancey is in the fight of his political career. And yes, Ezedi has the juice to knock off the 20-year incumbent. But the newcomer has his work cut out for him.

As he is knocking on doors in Yancey’s neighborhood, home to one of the highest voter-turnout rates in the district, Ezedi walks up to two women who are enjoying a slight breeze on their shaded front porch. "I just want to give you some information, I’m not going to interrupt you," Ezedi says, pulling out a copy of the Globe article. He tells them he’s running for city council. He mentions his past work for Capuano and his current work for the Morning Star Baptist Church. "Can I count on you?" Ezedi asks.

One woman answers, "Sure!"

Ezedi’s about to leave, but things are going so well that he asks if he can deliver a campaign lawn sign to them. The women seem open to the idea. And then one asks if he can get them a Yancey sign.