Return to the Regional Results Guide.

Return to the D.C. Election Guide

No Front-Runner, But Still a Force In Council Race

Valencia Mohammed shook her head, leaned forward in her chair and glared at Don Folden Sr., a fellow independent candidate for the D.C. Council, who had spent two full minutes blasting her and other elected officials.

When the moderator of the candidates forum called time, Folden continued to rant. Mohammed snatched the microphone from him and snapped, "Shut up!" She then took a deep breath, shifted into an all-business tone and calmly laid out the problems of the District government as she sees them.

It was that combination of audacity and reason that led to Mohammed's election four years ago as a member of the D.C. Board of Education. But now, as she seeks an at-large seat on the council, she has become known mostly for her impatience and her combativeness on a bitterly divided school board that critics contend has failed to address the schools' many problems.

During her time on the board, Mohammed, 45, has passionately sought the dismissal of Superintendent Franklin L. Smith and has opposed efforts to turn the management of some schools over to private contractors. Those stands and her vivid rhetoric have made her a spokeswoman for one of the city's enduring constituencies: voters who believe that Congress and others are constantly trampling the city's powers of self-government.

That constituency alone may not carry her to victory Tuesday; she is not among the favorites in the at-large contest. But her uncompromising style and views have established her as a campaign presence that is impossible to ignore.

"People call me a lot of things, but they never call me lazy," she said in an interview. "I got a lot of fire in me."

Mohammed does not shrink from her reputation as one of the most controversial members of an especially fractious organization. When she introduces herself at candidates forums, she says, "I a.m. a member of the infamous school board." But she also contends that her reputation is exaggerated.

With her distinctive name, her long dreadlocks sweeping down her back and her wardrobe of mudcloth vests and beads, Mohammed, a Sunni Muslim, said some of her opponents may judge her on style rather than substance. And even if she has been on the losing end of many board votes, she says she has remained an advocate for parents who don't have financial and political clout.

Mohammed made a name for herself at the school board even before she was elected to the 11-member panel. As a parent activist, she regularly attended meetings -- all six of her children at one time or another have attended D.C. public schools -- and she began working for an Afrocentric curriculum and against what ultimately was a successful effort to fire a previous superintendent. Her work on those issues raised her public profile and prompted her to run for office.

On the board, she has opposed efforts to introduce an African-oriented curriculum because she questioned its academic integrity, and she has worked to oust Smith because she doesn't think he is qualified. She says she is leaving the school board because she thinks the D.C. financial control board will soon render it almost powerless and she could be a more effective advocate for education on the council.

"I don't want to be just another figurehead," Mohammed said. "I want to serve the people."

As a member of the council, she said, she could fend off damaging school budget cuts because "I would know the impact [they] will have on the schools and will be able to get information and feedback quickly as to how much pain it will inflict on the students."

Her critics question how effective she would be in that role. One former supporter complained that Mohammed often failed to persuade other school board members to support her. "We got tired of the 10 to 1 votes," said the former supporter, who asked not to be identified. "You should be able after a while to bring two or three votes over to your side."

But Mohammed still maintains a dedicated cadre of political support. On a recent weekend, she gave a ride to a campaign worker who was walking from his home in Southeast Washington to her campaign office on Georgia Avenue NW.

"He was going to walk all the way to my campaign office," she told a reporter. "I don't have money to pay people. The people who work for me believe in me."

And many do. As she drove a borrowed, battered gold Chevy station wagon along Georgia Avenue, she yelled greetings or stopped to chat with people who recognized her. Several took handfuls of her campaign fliers or her campaign posters, promising to do what they could to help.

"You heard of the mother who climbed up on the [school] roof and pointed out the holes?" Mohammed asked a man on a Georgia Avenue street corner.

"That was you?" he asked, incredulous.

"That was me!" Mohammed said.