There are no Mr. Smiths in Washington anymore. But next January, that may change.
One hundred and fifty new members of Congress are likely to descend on the nation's capital next year. And it's quite possible that some may even resemble the fictional Jefferson Smith, a naive forest ranger who managed a boys camp before becoming senator and accidentally taking down the political machine that ran his big Western state.
This year's slate of congressional candidates is full of outsiders likely to win election to the most powerful legislative body in the world--from Illinois senatorial candidate Carol Mosely Braun to Texas House of Representatives candidate Donna Peterson, a helicopter test pilot and business consultant.
But no one more resembles Mr. Smith--and serves as a better paradigm for the new Congress--than Mark A. Takano '83, a Democratic candidate for the House from Riverside County, California.
"I admire Mr. Smith. In some ways, I'm fighting the same kinds of interests he was," says Takano, whose polling indicates he holds a slight lead over his real estate developer opponent going into tomorrow's election. "I think people are tired of attorneys and big downtown business interests running the government."
Takano's is a story that Frank Capra might have directed. Like Mr. Smith, Takano is a young man who has spent his entire professional life surrounded by children--as a teacher of social studies and English at Rialto Junior High School in Riverside County, California.
And not unlike the fictional senator, Takano has won a reputation for being prim and proper. At Rialto Junior High, students and teachers alike made fun of his trademark bow tie and tasseled loafers.
As a candidate, Mr. Takano, 31, is not exactly running away from his past. He's taking on Ken Calvert, a successful real estate developer who lost a Congressional race ten years ago.
"A school teacher versus a real estate developer--that's just too good a matchup to pass up," says Takano, who will return to Rialto Junior High if he loses the race. "Symbolically, sending a teacher to Washington would be a strong message for our county.
Takano's political ascendancy was a product of hard work and luck. Takano was fortunate to run in the 43rd Congressional district in Riverside County, one of seven new districts that California gained after the 1990 census.
And in June, Takano won a primary crowded with six other contenders--all just as obscure as he--with 30 percent of the vote.
"None of the major Democrats in this area were considering running; it was either make a run now or never," says Takano. "I knew unemployment was going to worsen, and I thought the district would be in the mood for change."
A government major and Republican while at Harvard, Takano's views soon changed. After graduating, he and a group of other Harvard students bicycled from Seattle to Boston to raise money for Oxfam America, an international relief and development agency. He also was a substitute teacher in Brookline, Belmont and the Boston public schools, before going to Rialto Junior High five years ago.
His experience at Rialto drove home to him the problems of educating youths. In a 1990 Los Angeles Times article on innovative teachers, Takano recalled one student told him, "Dang, Mr. Takano, if I was as smart as you, I would be selling drugs."
While California political experts say Takano stands a better than even chance of winning the seat, Takano is waging an uphill battle in district that is unmistakably Reagan country.
And Takano, a fourth generation Japanese-American, is running in an inland district that was settled in two waves: in the 1930s by Grapes-of-Wrathian whites escaping the Dust Bowl and again in the '70s and '80s by young middle class whites and Hispanics looking for California real estate they could afford. One hundred miles inland, California, so the saying goes, is Arkansas.
But the political winds seem to be blowing favorably for Takano.
Takano like many of this year's unconventional candidates has become a minor celebrity, and thus won more conventional support. House Majority leader Richard Gephardt (D-Mo.) even visited Riverside to stump for Takano last week.
Like many of this year's outsiders, Takano has won support because he is not a creature of party politics. He disagrees with Democratic proposals for national health care and stands firmly against Bill Clinton's idea of a middle class tax cut.
And he's not a slick politician who has tailored the issues he discusses to what's on the people's minds. In fact, Takano seems to enjoy nothing more than discussing technical solutions for public education or the fuel cell as a way to improve energy efficiency.
Takano has made minor compromises. He takes money from political action committees, he says, because he could not compete in fundraising and because some PACs "give a voice to small people."
"If I didn't have access to certain PAC money, I would be susceptible to my opponent, who can collect $500,000 checks from local developers," he says.
On the advice of his campaign staff, he's traded in the bow ties he wore teaching school for standard neck wear. And, as his few critics point out, Takano is not entirely a political novice, having won a seat on the board of trustees of Riverside Community College two years ago.
But these are minor concessions to make for the chance to be a part of the 103rd Congress, which has a unique opportunity to change the country. The next Congress, Takano believes, will be led by newly elected members, many of whom will have unconventional approaches like his own.
"We're going to have a tremendous incentive to grapple with the deficit and the debt and the economy," Takano says.
Takano says he believes in the idea of citizen legislators, and if elected, he doesn't intend to stay too long ("I don't have the megalomaniac Harvard complex," he says). He says he expects to one day return to the classroom, just as soon as he can win the reforms he wants in education and the environment.
"I don't pretend to be hip to the ways of Washington," says 1992's Mr. Smith. "I'm not going to go to Washington on a high horse, or even a pony."