Bottom Line

Iron Gate’s uphill battle; Fearless journalism, now free; What’s the problem, officer?

Iron Gate’s Uphill Battle

Connie Cronley is tired of fighting a battle she should have won with ease.

“I’m exhausted,” she told the Tulsa World, after stepping down Monday, Nov. 28 from her position as executive director of Iron Gate.

Cronley spent the last 14 years of her life championing the need to feed those who are hungry in Tulsa, and watched Iron Gate, a 501(c)3 nonprofit that’s served Tulsa’s homeless and working poor for over 30 years, outgrow a church basement that is just too small for the organization’s big heart. So she led the search to find a bigger, better space to fulfill Iron Gate’s mission.

“Since Iron Gate outgrew the space at the church, my dream has been to build a beautiful, stand-alone facility to feed hungry people, but I never imagined it would result in such rancor and opposition,” she said. “That animosity has been unimaginable and very tiring.”

Last month, Iron Gate entered district court after the Tulsa City Board of Adjustment denied it a special exception request—related to zoning ordinances—to build a facility near 7th and Elgin. This is the second time in 15 months the Board of Adjustment has denied Iron Gate the ability to move out of its current location at Trinity Episcopal Church at 5th and Cincinnati. Last year, its plans to relocate to 3rd and Peoria in the Pearl District were torpedoed after area business owners threw a very loud fit over the idea of poors invading the neighborhood. This time, outcry was similar, but the denial was based on a technicality: three of the five board members abstained from voting over conflicts of interest. The remaining two—David White and Austin Bond—voted in favor of the exception, but an approval requires three votes.

Iron Gate continues to fight for the opportunity to relocate, but Cronley will no longer lead the charge. Following her resignation, Iron Gate announced attorney and former district judge Mark Barcus will be its interim director until a permanent replacement is found.

Bottom line: For all its growth and progress, Tulsa should be past its provincial mindset regarding the homeless. We commend Cronley for fighting the good fight for so long.

FEARLESS JOURNALISM, NOW FREE

The only dedicated investigative journalism outlet in the Tulsa area with a Pulitzer finalist at its helm is now free to read. The Frontier recently announced that it would drop its $30-a-month paywall and move to a non-profit model.

Publisher Bobby Lorton, former C.E.O. of the Tulsa World, launched The Frontier in the spring of 2015 as an experimental for-profit venture with the understanding that moving to a non-profit model was a possibility.

Editor-in-chief Ziva Branstetter said the decision to transition to a non-profit model does not mean the for-profit model wasn’t, well, profitable. On the strength of a committed subscriber base and silent sponsors, The Frontier continued to grow and achieve sustainability.

But with its growth came unforeseen problems, like the day-to-day maintenance of the website, which proved to be cumbersome and tedious for the skeleton crew.

“It was actually a problem of the more subscribers that we got, the more administrative work it created for us in terms of people losing passwords, people needing to change credit card numbers,” Branstetter said. “We found ourselves, as we grew, dealing with more and more of that.”

Another problem: Donors who wanted to give The Frontier more money.

“Bobby continued to run into people who ran foundations and had money to donate that would’ve donated more,” she said. “People would tell him, ‘Hey, I’d be happy to donate more if you guys were non-profit.’”

Turning non-profit makes donations tax deductible, and allows the Frontier to pursue more grants, hire more staff and partner with other news outlets with similar missions while pursuing stories some city leaders would rather the public not read. It also invites new readers who previously couldn’t afford the pricey subscription fee.

“We’re doing public interest journalism,” Branstetter said, “and we want people to see it.”

Bottom line: In its young life, The Frontier has had a palpable impact on Tulsa, especially in the realm of transparency and accountability from city leaders and law enforcement. With nonprofit status, that impact should only become more pronounced.

WHAT SEEMS TO BE THE PROBLEM, OFFICER?

On Tuesday, Nov. 29, Tulsa police officer Betty Shelby appeared in court for a preliminary hearing regarding the fatal shooting of Terence Crutcher in North Tulsa. Shelby’s defense attorney, Shannon McMurray, argued that Tulsa Police Chief Chuck Jordan and Tulsa County District Attorney Steve Kunzweiler conspired to charge Shelby with one count of first-degree manslaughter before the police department’s investigation was complete.

Helicopter and dash cam footage revealed Crutcher, a 40-year-old black man, was unarmed and his hands were raised when Shelby shot and killed him on September 16.

In the past, the city’s response to similar shootings seemed to miss the fact that many black people in Tulsa fear the police. Mayor G.T. Bynum, who was sworn in December 5, doesn’t want to make that mistake.

He spent a significant amount of time during his campaign and in the months following his election listening to citizens’ problems and concerns.

Bynum said one of the problems he heard most about was the feeling of fear among blacks in Tulsa—particularly as it relates to engagement with members of law enforcement.

“I think that’s one of the terrible things that came out of the tragedy of Terence Crutcher being shot,” Bynum said. “For a lot of people, it confirms all their fears about their encounters with police. So as I come into office, I don’t think there’s anything we’re going to deal with in the next several years more important that changing that dynamic.”

One of the ways he hopes to affect change—particularly among Tulsa’s black population—is by installing and promoting a plan that allows for the community to build a rapport with the men and women tasked with protecting and serving that community.

“It’s going to take individual citizens, one person to another,” Bynum said.

Bottom line: I’m a young black man, and police frighten me. But I don’t want to be scared. So, officer, let’s have coffee.

For last issue's Bottom Line, click here.