ANNAPOLIS – Think “lobbyist,” and money, influence and lots of backslapping are some of the things that come to mind, says Ann Ciekot, one of 695 such folks registered to prowl the halls of Maryland’s General Assembly.
The image often isn’t too far off the mark, she says. But lobbyists come in all stripes, including hers — an advocate for organizations that represent the disadvantaged.
“Special interest” has become a dirty phrase, given its connection to big business and rigid ideology, she said, but poor people are a special interest group, too.
How Ciekot got here is a story of frustration. As one advocate said, “No one grows up saying, `Mom, Dad, I want to be a lobbyist.'”
In her previous life, Ciekot, 34, worked directly with the homeless and poor, volunteering in shelters and soup kitchens. But she says she wasn’t patient enough for direct service. She hated the obstacles to serving her clients — lack of affordable housing and the like.
Frustration led her to public policy issues, which led her to lobbying, she said. And she began looking at systemic changes to address social problems and remove the barriers.
“A desire to see more justice in the world” drives her, she said.
It’s not exactly the stereotypical lobbyist attitude.
“She speaks from the heart and doesn’t try to spin you,” said Sen. Christopher Van Hollen, D-Montgomery. He said Ciekot avoids the “razzle-dazzle” employed by her fellows in the influence industry and is a powerful voice for Maryland’s neediest citizens.
The 2002 General Assembly session wasn’t typical for Ciekot. She had to simultaneously adjust to her first pregnancy and her first time lobbying for her own company, a new partnership with Mindy Binderman.
By session’s end, she’d stopped chasing lawmakers up the stairs. She would take the elevator and meet them at the top. Who knows what changes may be in store for her in 2003?
“I’m not going to worry until next session about juggling a new baby, but I know it will be different,” she said.
Partnership was a challenge, too, but Binderman and Ciekot’s talents are complementary and the timing was right.
The two knew each other from their work with the Maryland Alliance for the Poor. Binderman wanted to expand her independent operation, and Ciekot, then director of advocacy at the National Council on Alcoholism and Drug Dependence in Maryland, wanted a job that would free her to be home more with her baby.
Now eight of the nine organizations represented by Binderman & Ciekot LLP are nonprofit, including NCADD and the Center for Poverty Solutions.
“We’re not against representing for-profit organizations,” Ciekot said, “but we want to represent organizations whose mission we believe in, issues that we can support.”
Budget skills are among the things that make Ciekot very effective, said Robin Fogel Shaivitz, a lobbyist with Alexander & Cleaver in Annapolis.
“She knows how the budget works, and she’s willing to study every minutia of the budget process, looking at every turn to see how she can influence the process,” Shaivitz said.
Shaivitz was the top-earning woman lobbyist in Maryland for 2000, collecting $274,733. But she understands where Ciekot stands. Shaivitz began lobbying more than 24 years ago for Planned Parenthood and today works for one of the wealthiest lobbying firms in Maryland.
Ciekot’s partnership, meanwhile, made $140,000 before expenses.
Both women agree money buys access to legislators, but they also agree it isn’t the only way to influence law.
New ethics laws restrict the wining and dining that used to be the chief tools of the lobbying trade to only the most well-heeled among them. Now, creativity applies.
“Dinner out in Annapolis isn’t always about dinner,” Ciekot said.
Smart lobbyists know where to run into a legislator who they otherwise would be prohibited from buying dinner for, Ciekot said.
Lobbying also takes some people-savvy.
While working on the bill to restore voting rights to felons for the American Civil Liberties Union, Ciekot said she knew she had to work the Senate harder to get it passed.
She couldn’t assume where legislators stood on the issue based on other civil rights issues, she said. For some, it was very personal.
Knowing that Sen. Perry Sfikas, D-Baltimore, had reservations about the bill, she sought him out.
Sfikas was honest with her, Ciekot said. He told her about family and friends who were victims of violent crimes, making it impossible for him to support felon voting rights.
After telling him that if sentences match crimes, felons of heinous acts will hopefully never get out of jail, making their voting rights a non-issue, she crossed him off her list.
“I didn’t push, because it was clearly an emotional and personal issue for him,” Ciekot said.
In the end, Sfikas did vote for the bill — an amendment barred felons with multiple violent offenses from regaining their voting rights.
This session Ciekot worked on more than 200 bills, with mixed success.
Funding for addiction treatment services, one of her issues, increased by more than $10 million for fiscal 2003, she said, more than they’d expected.
“Ann is a passionate advocate who is able to put herself in the shoes of whoever she’s lobbying to. That makes her a very effective and very important force in increasing the availability of drug treatment,” said a spokesman for Lt. Gov. Kathleen Kennedy Townsend.
Environmental budget issues provided her biggest disappointments, she said. Program Open Space lost $40 million, after an earlier $20 million to $30 million cut the governor made in his budget.
“I felt like it didn’t matter how much I lobbied,” she said. “Whenever something fails, I can take it to heart, asking myself if there’s more I could have done, but I don’t take it personally.”
“There’s always next year.”