A plaque that says “What would Jimmy Carter Do?" hangs above my desk at City Hall.

It provides inspiration for my work as a city supervisor — and advice for the political science graduates of San Francisco State University.

Supervisor Joel Engardio
Commencement Speech
San Francisco State University
Department of Political Science
May 22, 2024

SPEECH TRANSCRIPT

I’m Joel Engardio, the city supervisor for the Sunset neighborhoods.

As graduates in political science, you’ve studied state and federal legislatures, governments around the world, political theory, social movements, and public law. 

The role of city supervisor is probably not the most exciting reason to seek a political science degree. Many people wonder what the heck is a supervisor? 

Supervisor is a fancy word for a city council member. In San Francisco, the city council is called the Board of Supervisors — because San Francisco is a combined city and county. Cities have council members and counties have supervisors.

San Francisco has 11 supervisors. It takes 6 to pass a law and 8 to override the mayor’s veto.

We deal with municipal issues. Things like stop signs, potholes, bike lanes, and parking spots. It sounds mundane, but a hyper local issue like a parking spot can be very contentious.

As political science graduates you are charged with analyzing and navigating some of the world’s most intractable issues. But if you want to practice your skills for the State Department or the United Nations, go to any neighborhood association meeting in San Francisco and ask the following questions:

Should the Great Highway be a highway for cars or a park for people? Where should we build housing? How high can the buildings be — and who should we prioritize to live there?

Dare to answer those questions and you risk being kicked out of office as a one-term supervisor.

I’m a pro-housing supervisor. I believe we need more housing to keep families, students, workers, and the next generation in San Francisco. As a pro-housing supervisor, half the voters could be angry at me on any given day.

Hopefully, over time, a majority will see that everyone benefits when our families, workers, and young people are able to live, to grow, and thrive in San Francisco.

Housing was a campaign issue when I ran for office. My opponent mailed a giant postcard to every voter that said in big, bold letters: “Don’t let Joel Engardio destroy the Sunset.” 

The postcard claimed my housing platform would result in widespread neighborhood destruction — because I dared to increase building heights by just two stories.

I won the election 51 to 49 percent. A margin of only 500 votes. 

When it was time to govern, I wondered how many of those 500 votes I lost as I worked on legislation to allow six-story apartments on corner lots.

To ease my worries, my chief of staff gave me a plaque with an inspirational quote to hang above my desk. It says: “What would Jimmy Carter do?” 

President Carter was a one-term president. But history has shown the wisdom of his views on human rights, the economy, and the environment.

He put solar panels on the White House roof 45 years ago. And when Jimmy Carter lost his 1980 re-election campaign, the new president — Ronald Reagan — tore out those solar panels. America doubled down on the gas and oil industry.

Imagine how much better the world would be if we had followed Jimmy Carter’s vision and spent the past half century focused on advancing renewable energy. 

President Carter dealt with national and global issues. I deal with municipal issues. But when I face a difficult local situation, I often ask: “What would Jimmy Carter do?”

I never expected I would have to ask that question for an issue far beyond my role as a city supervisor. 

This is a lesson for all of us. Whatever you studied in school and whatever you think you want to deal with or are prepared to handle — you never know what you will actually be called to do. 

For me, it was the day last December when thousands of people asked the San Francisco Board of Supervisors to pass a resolution calling for a ceasefire in Gaza.

My heart broke when I heard from residents of my district mourning the loss of family and friends in Gaza. They grieved over the tens of thousands of innocent civilians who were killed, the displacement of hundreds of thousands of people, and the lack of humanitarian aid for survivors.

My stomach churned when I heard some public commenters in the board chamber back in December deny the atrocities of October 7 — one of the most brutal and traumatizing attacks against Jewish people. 

Human life is sacred. But the debate over the resolution was tearing our city apart.

Any resolution passed by the San Francisco Board of Supervisors would be non-binding. We only have jurisdiction over local issues in our city. I wanted to tell people, “We need folks to petition our congressional representatives and the president! They have control over our nation's policies on military spending and diplomacy. Not me.”

Yet city supervisors are much more accessible to people than a federal office. This matters when people are in distress and need to be heard.

That’s why thousands of people contacted their city supervisors and spoke at San Francisco’s City Hall to say how they felt about the war in Gaza.

The messages were divided. The supervisors were divided. There was no consensus on what the resolution should say. The longer the resolution was debated at City Hall, the more it traumatized people on all sides.

I felt we needed to pass something so we could get back to working on the local issues we have control over. Even as the war raged in Gaza, we still had a city to run. 

I worked with Board President Aaron Peskin and Supervisor Dean Preston to draft language that a majority of the board could support.

The final draft called for a ceasefire, humanitarian aid, and the release of all hostages. It also condemned the Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians and the Netanyahu government’s attacks on Palestinian civilians in Gaza. It called out gender-based violence and the killing of children. It denounced antisemitism and islamophobia.

The resolution concluded that a just and lasting peace between the Palestinian and Israeli people requires new leadership on both sides with a willingness and commitment to negotiate in good faith.

Many people were upset that the resolution didn’t go into enough detail or make stronger points for their side. But it touched upon every point people from every side of the debate had asked for. And the resolution had the support of eight supervisors. Three opposed it.

What would Jimmy Carter do? I was the 8th vote in support of the ceasefire resolution, making it a veto-proof majority.

I thought housing density and local zoning laws would be my most difficult votes as a city supervisor.

You can never predict what will happen in your career. That’s why the foundations and frameworks you built in school are so important. No matter what tests your ability as a leader, you will be prepared to handle it with a solid foundation of knowledge and a framework of ideas to guide you.

Life experience also matters. Many of you have survived an incredible journey just to get to this point. Perseverance also helps. I’m sure there are many stories of perseverance in this room today. 

I will share my own story. 

To win my seat on the Board of Supervisors, I knocked on 14,000 doors. Yes, I personally knocked on 14,000 doors in just over five months.

Everyone asks how could I knock on so many doors? It all goes back to my childhood.

I was raised by my mom and grandmother. They taught me perseverance.  

My grandmother was widowed at the young age of 48. She had to try to find a job with only a 9th grade education — and this was during the Mad Men era of the 1960s.

My mom also became a single mom. Just a few years out of high school.

My grandmother was a piano teacher. My mom cleaned houses. They showed me how to make the most with limited resources. I started working at 12. My first job was delivering newspapers. 

My mom became deeply religious after my dad abandoned us. She converted to Jehovah’s Witnesses.

My mom’s new religion had a rule for everything. As a kid, I was not allowed to celebrate my birthday or any holidays. No cake. No presents. My grandma called it torture. I agreed. 

I never joined the religion as an adult. But I had to live it as a child. I was four when I started knocking on doors with a Bible message.

I remember lots of slammed doors and people yelling at us to get off their porch. One man sicced his dog on us. I was seven.

That’s when I learned the world is not safe for people who say unpopular things and challenge the status quo.

A man driving by stopped his car and told us to jump in. Now, he wasn’t a fan of Jehovah’s Witnesses. He just didn’t think a mom and her seven-year-old deserved to be mauled by a dog for handing out Bibles.

That’s when I learned to be kind to others, even if you don’t like their politics or worldview. 

The childhood I spent door knocking was good training for the difficult work I chose as a journalist and civil rights advocate. The door knocking taught me grit, persistence, and how to listen to people who disagree with me. 

When I ran for supervisor to give our community a voice, I put all those lessons to use. Door knocking is in my DNA.

That’s how I knocked on 14,000 doors to win my supervisor seat. But to understand how I won, we have to talk about loss.

We are celebrating your graduation. Today, you are winning. But if your career involves politics, know that many of your future endeavors will result in loss. It’s important to embrace and learn from loss. 

Listen to this headline that was on the front page of the San Francisco Chronicle. It said: “Joel Engardio just won a San Francisco supervisor’s seat after three failed bids. What changed this time?”

That’s quite a headline. The article wasn’t bad. However, it didn’t fully answer the question of how I won. Because the answer is in those three losses. 

There is power in loss. You learn compassion and humility. You learn how to deal with a deck stacked against you. You learn what really matters in the lives of your neighbors.

Elections aren’t the only thing I’ve lost. I’ve experienced a lot of personal loss. Like my hair. I was far too young when that went.

More seriously, I lost a father who just decided to leave and never come back. And I lost a boyfriend to cancer, very young. 

Those traumas give you resilience. You don’t sweat losing a few elections. You just keep going. With the hope that you’ll move the needle on your issue — and make life better for others.

I learned how to do that when I worked for the American Civil Liberties Union.

We were trying to win the right for gay and lesbian couples to get married. In 2004, eleven states put same-sex marriage bans on the ballot. 

We lost every campaign. In most states, the bans passed with 60 to 70 percent of the vote.

But when I looked at those dismal results, I saw hope.

Yes, 70 percent of voters in Missouri were against gay and lesbian couples getting married. But 30 percent were OK with it. 40 percent in Arizona! To me, that actually wasn’t a loss. It was a big win.

Do you know why that was amazing? Just a generation before mine, support for gay marriage was zero.

I realized the work we did planted the seeds that would eventually change minds and the course of history. I truly believed I would be allowed to get married in my lifetime. And I did marry a wonderful man. It only took 10 more years. Perseverance can pay off. 

Today, there is a lot to fix in San Francisco — which makes my role as a city supervisor meaningful. Supervisors can’t fix things happening around the world. But we can ensure basic city functions are working.

And we can create more opportunities for people from diverse backgrounds to live here. That’s why I am a pro-housing supervisor. 

By making it easier to live here, we can retain and attract residents who will be inspired to change the world – right here, from their home base in San Francisco. We could be home to the scientist who will solve climate change, or the diplomat with a political science degree who negotiates lasting peace in the Middle East. Our next Jimmy Carter.

That’s how a city supervisor can make an impact on the global stage.

I want to talk about the importance of working with people you don’t always agree with. 

I mentioned working with Board President Aaron Peskin and Supervisor Dean Preston on the ceasefire resolution. Local political observers would put us in different factions. We’re all democrats on the Board of Supervisors, just different shades of blue.

Some of us are more Bernie and others are more Buttigieg, with some Kamala Harris and Elizabeth Warren in the mix. 

Yet it’s important that we work together despite our differences. It helped us pass a ceasefire resolution 8 to 3.

A few months later, I worked again with President Peskin and Supervisor Preston to pass another resolution. It reminded the Board of Supervisors to prioritize the municipal issues that we have control over. We can make non-binding statements on issues outside our jurisdiction. But we should be mindful it does not interfere with the local work we were elected to do. That resolution passed 10 to 1. 

And when it came time for my housing legislation — five stories of housing over a community center or corner store — I continued working with President Peskin and Supervisor Preston. 

Remember, there’s nothing more contentious in San Francisco local politics than land use and housing. But I worked with and negotiated with my colleagues to secure their support on my housing legislation. It passed unanimously: 11 in favor, none opposed.

There will be local laws that President Peskin, Supervisor Preston, and myself will not agree on. But we have shown how it's possible to respect each other, work together, and reach a solution on some tough issues.

The challenges in our city and the world can feel daunting. We can’t do this hard work without hope. That’s why I believe we must always lead with joy. 

That’s why I brought a night market to the Sunset. We must recognize the joy in our city and our lives. There is plenty of it. Think of every gathering of your friends and family. Or how you feel when you experience the natural beauty, cuisine, and culture that defined San Francisco long before “doom loop” became a buzzword. 

The problems we face are real. So are the joyful things. We must keep that perspective. Let’s encourage more joy as we work to create our best San Francisco and world.

Have you ever heard about the Greatest Generation? It was Jimmy Carter’s generation. Your great-grandparents were part of it. They had a tough childhood.

They grew up in the worst financial depression the world had ever seen. When they graduated high school, they had to fight the biggest war the world had ever seen. Because freedom was under threat.

By the time they were teenagers, they had been through a lot. And the future looked bleak. But it didn’t stop them from dreaming about a better future.

As adults, they were determined to create and build things they felt would improve the world. Things like television, rockets to the moon, and the Internet. 

Against all odds, they succeeded. That’s why they’re called the Greatest Generation.

Most of them are gone now. The few left are 100 years old.

You might find something in common with the Greatest Generation. Like them, you faced a lot of adversity as young people.

You suffered through a global pandemic at a critical age. And a culture of mass shootings. War rages in Gaza, Ukraine, and Sudan. Human liberty and freedom is under threat across the globe. And you will have to fight the existential threat of climate change. 

Yet I believe you have the opportunity to become the next Greatest Generation.

You can be an even greater Greatest Generation — one that is more inclusive and equitable. The original Greatest Generation left out a lot of people who didn’t get to benefit from their success. 

When the future looks bleak, know that you have the ability to create a better world. Even when it feels daunting or scary.

I believe that you will be the Greatest Generation yet. If it feels like a lot of pressure, know that my generation is committed to helping. I will do everything I can in my position to support you. We can work together. And I will pass the baton when you are ready.

It is an honor to meet you today. It gives me hope. You are stronger than you realize. Things will get better. And one day, you will look back with pride at your courage and resilience. How you tackled the world’s challenges and shined.