Campaigning, Moving Forward, and Finding a Political Home: An Interview with Carolyn Tran, Former Candidate for NYC Council

Image used with permission from Carolyn Tran For NYC Council District 25. Photograph by Scott Wagner.

New York City’s 25th City Council District—encompassing the neighborhoods of Jackson Heights and East Elmhurst—is a mosaic of cultures, residential character, and traditions of activism. Unfortunately, the district was thrust into turmoil amid the COVID-19 pandemic, accumulating among the highest number of virus-related casualties of all NYC neighborhoods. Now, NYC District 25 looks to the future for a new era of recovery, reform, and rebuilding.

After NYC District 25 council member Daniel Dromm (D) stepped down from office due to term limitations in 2021, the constituency was eager to see who would fill his seat. 

In late December of 2020, Carolyn Tran (D) an experienced civil servant, community organizer, and mother of two, launched her campaign for council member of NYC District 25. Tran worked in Dromm’s office for over a decade, eventually serving as his Chief of Staff in the five years leading up to her campaign. Her platform heavily underscored the district’s need for racial justice, immigration reform, civic engagement, and expansion of democracy through community organization. 

Although Tran ran an exceptional campaign, civil rights lawyer Shekar Krishnan (D) ultimately won both the primary and the general election for the city council seat of District 25. Despite her defeat, many District 25 natives still look to her as a trailblazer for the greater communities of Jackson Heights and East Elmhurst. The lingering question remains: What’s next for Carolyn Tran?

To shed some light on this question, I sat down with Carolyn Tran to explore her experiences working as a civil servant, running as a first-time candidate, and moving forward in her service to District 25.

Ana Victoria Serna, CPR: You worked as a public servant and community organizer in Jackson Heights and East Elmhurst through issues of household overcrowding, economic recession, and, of course, COVID-19. In your position, what have your experiences taught you about yourself, your government, and your community in times of crisis?

Carolyn Tran, former candidate for NYCC-D25: I think resilience was always a theme during the pandemic. I definitely felt that our community, that our neighborhoods that were so hit drastically—the epicenter of the pandemic—have been the most resilient communities in New York City. They were already experiencing the inequities of economics, of housing, of discrimination, and of gender already before the pandemic and that definitely was magnified. So, having worked in this community for over a decade, it really gave me a different perspective of the role of government. Even though I have worked in city government, I always knew that government had its limitations. I was always very skeptical that this would be the solution to social change. I think that’s important for anyone who works in government; to understand that changes and freedom and liberation is not going to come from the hands of government. I understood that, but I also know that it has a role to play. I wanted to make sure that, as someone who was in that position, I was using the tools of government to really provide our most impacted and marginalized community members with the resources that they needed to uplift out of inequities. During the pandemic, it was devastating to see and hear the ambulances, to see the deaths rising in this neighborhood that I had worked and lived in for so long. I felt despair because it seemed like our government was not doing enough to protect us, even though we had the most resources. We were just not at any level to do what needed to be done during the pandemic—in terms of testing, in terms of vaccination. When thinking about government, about community organizing, about being an activist, or just about being a member who cares about improving the conditions of your neighborhood and your neighbors, it’s important to link with other social movements that are happening around or to be aware of the work that’s happening in the background.

AVS: The New York Times listed District 25 as accumulating among the highest number of virus-related casualties in New York City during the peak of the pandemic. That must have been harrowing.

CT: Our district has had many devastating fires, and a lot of that is because of the economic inequities that exist in the city. A lot of the neighbors in this neighborhood are from immigrant families, or are immigrants themselves. (They) are unable to find the jobs that pay well, to afford living in this neighborhood. So oftentimes we see homes with families doubling up, or with people living in close conditions or illegal substandards (units). If there are eight people living in a one-bedroom, that means that there are eight people who are using the electricity, or who are using the stove. There is so much potential. Given that our neighborhood is such a desirable place to live, that means that they are also forced to live in basement apartments, which aren’t legal dwellings. We saw that with the hurricane and its flash flooding, where so many of our community members who were killed were here in Queens. I think it's all connected to what resources we invest in our communities, what we prioritize. That is reflected during crisis—how our government has invested resources and time.

AVS: In your platform, you mentioned that you originally did not see yourself as a candidate for public office because of the institutional flaws of New York City’s government—specifically when it comes to creating spaces for working, single mothers of color such as yourself. Could you elaborate on these institutional flaws?

CT: I knew the limitations of government, of course—that was my mindset.  I never wanted to be a part of that apparatus. I functioned in this parallel life in government; I worked in it, I wanted to use it to uplift my communities, but I didn’t want to be part of it. Oftentimes when we see people who represent us, who are in elected office, (we) don’t relate to them. They don’t understand my life, they don’t understand the obstacles and challenges I have to go through. I never saw myself. It’s also hard to run for office unless you’re independently wealthy and have a strong support network. Campaigning requires you to do that 24/7. And if you have a job, if you have kids, if you’re a single parent, if you’re not the stereotypical candidate, it’s so difficult to run for office. So I just never saw myself as a candidate. I think that is a reflection of folks who are marginalized in this society—of what we see ourselves as roles in. It’s not that we can’t run for office, but typically we don’t see ourselves in office. We are not supported. Not everyday, working people are the ones running for office; it is the ones who have the privileges and luxury to be able to. But that’s also why we need to elect people who come from our communities, who reflect working class communities, and who understand the struggles that single parents and moms have to go through so that that can be reflected in our policies and budget allocations.

AVS: Besides what you mentioned, were there any other obstacles that you faced during your campaign as someone who holds many intersecting  identities? How did you overcome these obstacles?

CT: I think it’s hard for women—particularly women of color—to run because we’re not taken seriously. I was chief of staff under the current council member, and in the history of the district every chief of staff has been a white man. Even if it’s not external, there’s this internal struggle of having to prove yourself and having to do more to just be on the same level as everybody. You have to work twice as hard to prove that you know what you’re talking about, that you know what you’re doing… Even if you’ve been doing it a lot longer (and better) than most people. Some of the obstacles were patriarchy; we live in a world where patriarchy is so abundant, so it’s hard to get away from that. Especially in politics, where everything is so magnified. Since I never saw myself as a candidate, when I show up in the community it has not been to campaign. It has not been to plan my future as a candidate. It was always doing the work in the background: making sure that everything was running smoothly, that events were running well, that our schools and hospitals were getting what they needed, that our cultural institutions and communities were getting services. That work is always invisible. And oftentimes, that work is done by women of color. By running, I was trying to push back against that narrative about whose labor is valued. Do we only value labor that is front-facing and glamorous, that is eloquent and flashy? Or are we valuing labor that is behind-the-scenes, that is unrecognized or unacknowledged? The nitty-gritty? I wanted to connect that to our essential workers—they are the ones who kept the city running during the pandemic by feeding people, stocking grocery stores, etc. But that labor was not valued as much as other industries. (I tried) to push away that narrative—that people define labor and then add value to it.

AS: In July, you announced that there was no foreseeable path to victory for your campaign for council member. However, considering your long-running commitment to District 25 as a public servant and community organizer, it seems highly unlikely that this is the end of the road for you. Are you planning to continue working in this community, and, if so, how?

CT: Definitely! This is the community where my daughters go to school, so I want them to understand that running for office is not the only way that you can serve your community. It’s important for me to show that to my daughters, but it’s also just important to stay involved. There are so many people who helped in the campaign who were really engaged and excited in electoral politics for the first time, and it’s important to keep them involved and engaged. That’s really how you change government to benefit our communities. 

AS: So what are the next steps for you?

CT: I’m still dreaming. I’m still figuring out things. I took the time off to spend time with my daughters after the election, because they have been going through so many transitions. It’s been a whirlwind of changes, so I really wanted to spend time with them. Now that I have the privilege to think about what I want to do next, I want to be thoughtful and meaningful about what I put my energy into. I will always be here for my community. I’m involved with my daughters’ school, I help out with my local food pantry, I stay in touch with a lot of our immigrant organizations that were involved in our campaign as well as the other community organizations. I make sure that I’m pushing myself. I think that what I’ve seen as a great flaw that holds us back is that we stop learning, stop pushing ourselves, and stop really educating ourselves about different narratives and theories. Our movements and societies are always changing, so we need to make sure that we’re always learning.

AS: Do you see yourself running for office again?

CT: I don’t know. It’s a lot of work! I’ve been asked that a bunch of times, and I think it’s still so early. Since the primary (but long before that), I’ve been really critical about capitalism. We (should) try to detach ourselves from our labor and see how our value is not connected to our work. I want to be intentional about the next thing I do. I’m not a politician, it’s not what I strive to be in life. I want to be someone who invests in and works to improve my community. I want to inspire, connect, and support movements, but I don’t necessarily see that done by running for office. I will always do that, but that might not be through elected office.

AS: It’s just one path to achieving what you want to get done?

CT: Right, it’s one path. It could be finding someone else who’s a better candidate, or who’s better fit to serve the community. It could be just finding someone who I can get behind, not necessarily be me who’s running for office.

AS: Are there any words of wisdom you would like to share with younger people interested in getting involved in local politics and with their local communities?

CT: The one piece of advice that I tell people who are interested in getting involved in politics or in community organizing is to find their political home first. That is what’s going to guide you through doing real, meaningful community work. Politics is an apparatus of people who are hungry for power, or who are using politics as a stepping stone for other things. It’s not always best to just throw yourself into politics if you’re really trying to get involved in community work. (Those in) grassroots movements are really the ones coming up with policy ideas and interfacing with impacted community members. That work is happening there. That’s where you can form and push and develop your own political values to help navigate you through this world. For me, I was fortunate to come into politics in college by being inspired by the Black Panther Party. That’s where my political navigation and values are rooted. They’re not rooted in working for elected officials, or working for the government. I see government as a tool for change and social revolution, but I don’t see it as my political home. Find a political organization. There are so many now—including the Democratic Socialists of America and other “lefty” groups. Find those places and organize there first before you consider running for office. Otherwise, you continue to perpetuate the same people who are in office: people who are wealthier and more affluent, who are from highly educated backgrounds. Our government is already filled with people like that—I call them “suits.” If we really want to change and disrupt our current system, we have to change how we enter community work and politics.

AS: So find your nexus, find your home?

CT: Yes. And that will always be your home, whether that’s the place you go to ask how you approach issues—maybe they don’t align with me, or make me uncomfortable—or if it’s the place where people can push (you) to develop a social class consciousness. I don’t think that happens in government because there are limitations and selfish desires to want to stay in power, and that will distract you from making the right choices.

Ana Victoria Serna is a Staff Writer and first-year at Barnard College studying Political Science.