I met Carl around six or seven years ago, when he was invited to Passover Seder at my mom’s house. As it always seems to in the Lowenthal home (like many Jewish households), dinner conversation covered a broad spectrum of political topics, and Carl was seemingly an eager participant. The topic du jour was “oppression”, fitting given the nature of Passover, and naturally everyone had their own take on the various oppressors and oppressees of the modern era. Suja waxed about women’s rights (or lack thereof) in her homeland of India, my mom spoke of genocide in Rwanda and the Balkans, and Danny advocated for the next civil rights movement – gay and lesbian rights. A gregarious Carl Kemp reminded us that we are all oppressed under the limits to our democracy, with gerrymandered districts and uncontrolled special interest influence determining policy more than the electorate (as I’ve come to learn, Kemp never disappoints with his forthright and truly unique opinions, which tend to fuse idealistic principles and cynicism effortlessly).
But Carl truly came alive when he caught me unconsciously lip synching a Marvin Gaye song that had been quietly playing over my mom’s stereo.
Without interrupting the soap box preachers, Carl leaned over to harmonize with me for a verse of Gaye’s “What’s Goin’ On”. We both broke out in laughter and that’s when Kemp really opened up. Quietly, he and I broke away from the political banter to assess the pioneers of soul music: Marvin, Stevie, JB, Ray, Aretha, Otis, Curtis, Sam Cooke…….and then Kemp began talking about Donny Hathaway, whose music was unfamiliar to me. “Look man, I’m know we’re gonna be friends, and friends don’t let friends stay away from Donny Hathaway.” Carl went on to describe how Hathaway stretched rhythm and blues into previously unheard shapes, textures, and sounds. To Carl, it wasn’t just about the music itself, it was about Hathaway’s efforts to provide an aural landscape of black inner city life, always searching for new ways to articulate musically the complexity of the human spirit. With that, Carl quietly snuck out (unbeknownst to my mom) and left the Seder to fetch a few Hathaway discs on my behalf. I have been hooked on Donny Hathaway since, and will be forever bound to Carl Kemp as a result.
Carl Kemp is Long Beach. He’s too outspoken to be a small town, too friendly and simple to be a big city. He embraces multiculturalism, eschews classism, and loves the underdog. He is the establishment, the outsider, the accomplished, the less fortunate, the ostracized, the BMOC, and the proverbial red-headed stepchild. But why am I writing about this guy? What exactly does Carl Kemp do that should pique our interest? From CSULB to the City and now in private practice, Carl Kemp brokers deals between public and private, fusing the interests of stakeholders at all levels. To be more specific, Carl is a specialist in government and community relations. Businesses bring their ideas to the table, and Carl works with community leaders and elected officials to make these ideas come to life. Officially or unofficially, Carl Kemp makes people in Long Beach work together to find common ground. And all of us have been affected by his work.
Born in Oklahoma 34 years ago, Kemp was raised by his mother in South Central L.A. Due to the reality of his environment, Carl’s family made certain he understood the nexus between choices and consequences. “I grew up in the ‘hood but I was never a ‘hoodster’. The first half I grew up in a Crip neighborhood and the second half I grew up in a Blood neighborhood. There were always dope dealers around, crackheads, drive-bys on my street and around my street. I almost got shot riding my bike to school one day. But I was never a bad kid basically because I was never allowed to be….my family was just not having it. I knew if I joined a gang or sold I’d be disowned. My house wasn’t rich in material goods but it was rich in values, and I was expected to treat others the way I wanted to be treated.”
Dissatisfied with the state of neighborhood schools, Kemp’s mother took advantage of the movement toward racial integration and sent Carl off to distant parts of the city for his education. “I was up at five in the morning and had to go two hours each way on the bus just to go to school. I got bussed everywhere for school. It’s interesting reflecting back on it because I realize how much of my character today is defined by that reality.”
Kemp attended school in Santa Monica and later in North Hollywood, befriending the wealthy children of movie stars, and would go home to hang with the kids in the hood. “I think this is when I learned the concept of versatility. I had some guidance from my mom, but mostly this was something I realized on my own. I found it was important to be cool with everyone. So I was cool with the white kids at school, and then I’d come home and be cool with the Crips in the ‘hood’. Every day I made choices about where I fit and who I was to the people around me. I guess I chose to engage; to be accepted and yet non-threatening to white, black, rich, and poor, and that’s how I created my own environment to learn, achieve, grow, and be happy.”
Kemp followed these instincts all the way to Long Beach State, forgoing a life in the Air Force (and Operation Desert Storm). This was not an easy choice, as he pioneered higher education in the family. “When I first started I had an anxiety attack. Nobody in my family had ever been to college and nobody prepared me for it. I didn’t even know how to register for classes. I was sure I was going to fail and I was scared as hell on that campus. From L.A. to Long Beach each day I caught the bus to the Blue Line to another bus just to get to campus – two hours each way, and I didn’t know a soul there. I was definitely spinning and wouldn’t have made it if I didn’t reach out for help.”
On a suggestion, Kemp become involved in the Black Student Union (BSU) and immediately felt a sense of belonging. “I had people who told me the game. They explained how to pick classes and which professors were good and how to write papers. They gave me the support structure I needed. The thing that I liked is that it felt kind of like church – we were encouraged to help each other. I began to carpool with people, make friends, and it opened doors for me.”
As it turns out, Kemp’s involvement in the BSU was the beginning of a journey that he never envisioned himself taking. Drawn to his ability to work with students from other backgrounds, Kemp was elected to leadership of the BSU and soon represented the entity to the campus-wide student government body (ASI). “I got involved in ASI and it opened my eyes. All of a sudden I had to work with people I never had exposure to: frat boys and lesbians and Latinos and bookworms all exchanging ideas. And as the president of the BSU I decided to form coalitions with groups that could really help each other – we banded together with La Raza, Asian American Club, American Indians, women’s groups……it just made sense to work together. And I didn’t have a ‘We Are the World’ attitude. I just saw how much power we had collectively, and that made achieving our goals easier.”
Kemp’s approach was not without controversy, not only with different groups but also to many black students on campus. At the time (late 80’s/early 90’s) there was a strong militant revival movement within the black community, as documented by Spike Lee’s “Do the Right Thing” and sounds of Public Enemy. Kemp respected those who had this approach, but decided to employ other ideas. “I didn’t subscribe to that militant/separatist philosophy and was a little ostracized for it by some within the BSU. But that’s not new. Dr. King was ostracized by Malcolm. Malcolm was ostracized when he embraced white Muslims upon his return from Mecca. John Brown going back to slave days, and so on……”
Kemp’s multilateral approach to dialogue and problem-solving fit the culture of Long Beach, and his fellow students elected him ASI President……twice. To this day, he remains grateful for the personal growth afforded to him by this leadership experience. “It’s the exposure to others that actually shapes who you are. I mean, as the ASI President of Long Beach State, I learned about feminism and gay rights, and sensitivity toward different ethnic and minority groups that I never would have known about.”
Leadership came naturally to Kemp. It was exciting to shape the policymaking process, from the genesis of ideas to coalition building and implementation. It was also exciting for Kemp to see others become involved in the process and have ownership. After leaving CSULB, local activist Erroll Parker clued Kemp in on an opening in then-Long Beach City Councilmember Mike Donlon’s office. This is where Kemp learned about the delivery of City services, constituent affairs, and neighborhoods…..things that impact people’s lives the most. Carl enjoyed being the crossroads between public and private, and later jumped at an opening to work directly for the City Manager overseeing government and community relations.
In the City Manager’s office, Kemp thrived working on a myriad of issues facing the City. He dealt with everything under the sun, from drafting the Rivers and Mountains Conservancy Bill to wetlands conservation, gay and lesbian rights, the Grand Prix, and economic development. Just as he had done at Long Beach State, Kemp became known as somebody who was an effective conduit for people in the community trying to work things out with leadership and vice versa. Kemp also became a visible leader and role model for black youth in the City of Long Beach. Although he doesn’t shy from this responsibility, he doesn’t believe it’s exclusive either. “I’m proud to be black. I love black people. I feel like I have an obligation to be a role model of sorts. But truthfully I have the same responsibility to a young Latino person, or a young Asian, or a young white person. Because it’s the Golden Rule – if I see someone who needs some help, I’m there for them because that might be me one day. And it has been me. And it wasn’t always black people that were there to help me. But thankfully someone did.”
Kemp’s effectiveness working for City Manager Jerry Miller led to position directing government and community relations for the Port of Long Beach. The change was dramatic; Kemp had moved from potholes and public safety to supporting the chief economic engine of the entire region. Now, thousands of jobs, environmental health, and infrastructure projects loomed, and he found himself as the conduit between major league interests. His success at this level was encouraging, and was the motivating factor to take on a new challenge – joining the public affairs firm Englander and Associates as a partner. “Every now and again I need to reinvent myself; I need to challenge myself and use the skill sets I’ve developed doing something new. I’d been with the City for ten years at that point – since leaving college – and it was time to push myself to go in a new direction.”
In private practice Carl Kemp represents a myriad of clients that need legislative action by regional municipal governments, and therefore he continues to work with all the same local decision-makers and community leaders as before. “I love working in and working for Long Beach. It’s such a unique town. People still say ‘hi’ to each other here – go to L.A. and that doesn’t happen anymore. People want to get stuff done here. The city is like a family, and I treat the people who work in it like a family, and that’s how I get things done.”
Despite how much he loves the community, Carl Kemp is often surprised how far it has to go on many levels. As his visibility has increased within the black community, he has become more keenly aware of lingering racial inequities. When asked about the state of race relations in Long Beach, Kemp points to steps forward and steps back. “It’s kind of hard to say. On the one hand you have a black chief of police, a black Deputy City Manager, blacks in management throughout the city, black business owners and that’s good. On the other hand, you still have a lot of people that are in bad shape in Long Beach and there’s no real plan to do anything about it nor is there any coordinated or strategic approach from within the black community to change the situation. The Halloween beating trial was particularly frustrating because it was an opportunity lost to talk more openly about these things. I mean, there is no creative dialogue on race in the Long Beach, period. Black, white, Asian, Latino…..except for naming neighborhoods. We can’t say we’re the most diverse city of our size in the nation and then not do anything with it. Why don’t we have an annual multicultural celebration? We celebrate individually, and that’s important – gay pride, Chavez day, King day, etc. But we don’t celebrate our diversity together, and that’s a wasted opportunity.”
Kemp attended school in Santa Monica and later in North Hollywood, befriending the wealthy children of movie stars, and would go home to hang with the kids in the hood. “I think this is when I learned the concept of versatility. I had some guidance from my mom, but mostly this was something I realized on my own. I found it was important to be cool with everyone. So I was cool with the white kids at school, and then I’d come home and be cool with the Crips in the ‘hood’. Every day I made choices about where I fit and who I was to the people around me. I guess I chose to engage; to be accepted and yet non-threatening to white, black, rich, and poor, and that’s how I created my own environment to learn, achieve, grow, and be happy.”