A grassroots coalition vows to challenge City Hall with a Neighborhood Bill of Rights. But can good intentions survive election-year politics?

"Somerton Port Richmond Washington Square " The fourth major gathering of the Reasons to Stay movement begins with a kind of roll call, in which participants identify themselves by name and neighborhood. Tonight's meeting seems particularly diverse. Well over 100 people are gathered in a warm and bright church basement in Fairmount, despite the bitter late January cold -- some in suits, others casual in jeans and sneakers, men and women mostly in their 30s and 40s but a good number who are older and younger, a mix of white and black. The neighborhoods they declare represent a cross section of the city: Eastwick, Manayunk, Pennsport, East Falls, Fishtown, Fairmount, Northwood, Roxborough, Chestnut Hill, Kensington, Hawthorne, Queen Village, Ridge Park, "the demilitarized zone between East and West Mt. Airy," and the place where this effort was born, Bella Vista.

The topic tonight is the Neighborhood Bill of Rights, the document that the group has been crafting for the last eight months. Organizers take turns standing and reading from it; a few people in the crowd remark, only half-jokingly, on the similarities between this gathering and others held in Philadelphia more than 200 years ago.

After the recitation, Vernon Anastasio, the movement's spiritual leader, calls for a vote. The Neighborhood Bill of Rights is ratified unanimously.

What began as one neighborhood's crusade against the sometimes-grim realities of urban life has grown, in less than a year, into a citywide movement. But with the task that has consumed much of its young life now complete -- the writing of the Neighborhood Bill of Rights -- the question is, how can this momentum be put to use? Now the real work must begin, if the movement is to do anything more than meet periodically.

Even meeting is going to become more difficult as more neighborhoods climb aboard. The NBR was adopted by unanimous vote, but at the same meeting it quickly became apparent that some -- newcomers, apparently -- seemed confused about what it meant, how it should be used, even on whether it was a final draft or a work in progress.

The ultimate goal is to have anyone running for mayor or City Council sign the document, and by doing so sign on to the movement's basic tenets. But even though the election is still a ways off, city politics (and politicians) have already begun to intrude. There are early signs -- angry phone calls from suspicious political factions, rumors about the leaders' true motives -- that RTS' efforts to shape the future may not sit well with some of the power brokers of the present. What happens between now and the general election in November will determine whether this ambitious assault on the status quo will effect real change or simply collapse under the enormity of the challenge.

"We the people of the neighborhoods of Philadelphia, in order to form a more perfect city, hereby assert the following rights to be our own. In pursuit of happiness as guaranteed by the founding document of the United States, the people of Philadelphia shall be entitled to responsible, respectful and reasonable government which protects our interests, defends our quality of life, and works to advance our collective will.

Because our families, our lives, our fortunes, and our futures are directly linked to the health and well-being of our City and her communities, we declare these rights to be fundamental.

We hereby pledge to work toward positive change, engage our leaders, and give our neighbors and ourselves reasons to stay in Philadelphia."

For all its references to great moments in American history, RTS actually grew out of an event fueled by beer and boobs (both kinds).

Feb. 27, 2001 -- Mardi Gras. They came to party. They came to flash and be flashed. They came, most of all, to drink, and drink they did, from sunup till way past sundown. And by the time it was over all the local news stations had scrambled their helicopters to capture scenes of tens of thousands of angry youths throwing bottles, breaking windows, looting shops and littering the city's most popular street with, it would later be determined, nearly 100,000 pounds of debris. The next morning, images of the debacle were broadcast across the nation, helping to make Mardi Gras 2001 another one of those memorably embarrassing events to which this city seems especially prone.

South Street is the northern border of Bella Vista, the realtor-named neighborhood that includes the Italian Market in South Philadelphia. Even before property values in the area began to soar in the late '90s, the community group Bella Vista United Civic Association, a fairly representative mix of lifelong residents and newcomers led by Anastasio, set about stemming population loss from the neighborhood. All efforts, from organizing a holiday decorating contest to scrutinizing developers' plans (over the shoulder of the older Bella Vista Town Watch, which still controls zoning matters), revolved around making Bella Vista a place where people wanted to live -- and giving Bella Vistans "reasons to stay."

South Street merchants weren't the only ones to suffer -- according to Anastasio, the founding president of Bella Vista United, the damage to private property in the neighborhoods near South Street totaled more than $50,000. Even those who didn't wake to find a car window broken or a potted bush upended were forced to clean up the broken bottles and puddles of urine the revelers left behind as they staggered home -- all from an event that no one save the partiers and bar owners wanted on South Street in the first place.

"[The city] lost 90,000 residents in the last decade," Anastasio says today, "and Mardi Gras was like a big Œeff you' to those who stayed." But it also prompted the leaders of Bella Vista United, Queen Village Neighbors Association, Washington Square West Civic Association and Society Hill Civic Association to work more closely than they ever had. At first, they focused on their opposition to Mardi Gras on South Street, and won a partial victory: The city didn't ban the party, as the neighbors wanted, nor require bar owners to provide for security bonds to cover the cost of resulting damage (Mayor Street refused to sign the bill, which was sponsored by Councilman Frank DiCicco), but it did provide more cops, who promised zero tolerance for public drunkenness and flashing. For their part, area residents pressed local media for maximum advance coverage of the new rules (Don't bother coming! It's gonna suck!), and persuaded radio station Y100, through threats of advertiser boycotts, to cancel plans to broadcast from South Street. They also hired a lawyer and PR consultant to deal with the aftermath.

The result: Mardi Gras 2002 was comparatively tame. The crowds were smaller, and there was none of the rioting of the previous year. But this did not change local community leaders' view that city government can, or will, only do so much for the neighborhoods. Residents better be prepared to fight for whatever service the city will provide, and to fill in the gaps.

And so Anastasio began to push Bella Vista United's "reasons to stay" campaign as a joint effort. Mardi Gras certainly wasn't the only concern shared by these neighborhood groups. Everyone seemed to agree that high taxes, unsatisfactory schools and ever-diminishing services were the largest factors driving middle-class flight. So why shouldn't they work together toward meaningful, long-term solutions?

The right to ethical representation.

"Leaders shall reflect the values of the people they serve. Therefore, we the people of Philadelphia's neighborhoods ask that our elected officials sign a Pledge of Ethical Conduct that includes the following items that we deem necessary to become law: No public servant shall be permitted to use campaign funds for any activity that fails to directly impact the outcome of an election. There shall be a reasonable cap, set by the City Council, on all individual campaign contributions. Public servants shall be required to fully disclose all real estate purchases at the time of purchase and all prior holdings at least once a year. Disclosure shall include purchase price, seller's identity and description of the parcel."

The fourth RTS summit attracted more political representation than previous summits -- or perhaps just more of them admitted to it. Elected officials are not welcome at RTS summits; the members decided early on that politicians' tendency to make everything about themselves might interfere with the process. But their emissaries have been tolerated, and summit No. 4 attracted Ed Kirlin, who works for politically powerful labor leader John Dougherty; Phil Press, who is in State Sen. Vince Fumo's employ; and a few past and future candidates for office.

Kirlin's presence was especially interesting. Dougherty is widely believed to have been shopping for a candidate in the First District to take on Councilman DiCicco in the primary. (DiCicco once described Kirlin as Dougherty's "vice president of arts and crafts," a reference to his belief that Local 98, which Dougherty heads, is behind various anti-DiCicco fliers and posters that have appeared periodically since last year.) DiCicco is aligned with Fumo, who has made no secret of his low regard for Mayor Street; Dougherty played a major role in putting Street in office.

Both camps seem to be intrigued by Reasons to Stay, though not necessarily out of concern for the issues it seeks to address. Initially, Anastasio says, the feedback from politicians was positive, but both the Fumo and Dougherty factions "became convinced rather quickly that the Reasons to Stay movement was a vehicle created by the other camp to embarrass them. Which illustrates just how out of control things are in this city."

Anastasio, who is State Rep. Babette Josephs' chief of staff, says he and another RTS organizer, Patti Brennan of Ridge Park Civic Association, each got calls from representatives of these factions. He won't identify the callers, but says in both cases the message went something like this: "What the hell is this? Did so-and-so put you up to this? I'm not getting involved in this just to get hammered by so-and-so."

"We both said nothing could be further from the truth," Anastasio recalls. "We were grateful, actually, that we appeared on their radar screens. And we said that if they wanted to make a contribution we'd be happy to accept it. Those checks must have gotten lost in the mail."

Kirlin told City Paper he'd have Dougherty call to discuss Local 98's interest in Reasons to Stay, but the call never came.

DiCicco responded, quickly, and had a lot to say -- including some things about Dougherty. As RTS organizers had suggested might be the case, DiCicco remains wary of the movement; he is not convinced that it's not really an elaborate scheme to discredit all or most elected officials, and possibly to soften him up for a primary challenge.

"When you're in my business, it's kind of second nature to be suspicious," he admits.

For starters, says DiCicco, there are continuing rumors that Anastasio plans to run for the First District Council seat, possibly with Dougherty's support (which City Paper political columnist Mary F. Patel has heard as well, as recently as January). He knows that Dougherty's "operatives" have attended the RTS summits, and he says Dougherty's team was behind posters hung throughout his district last election day, including some promoting Anastasio for Council (even though Council seats were not on the ballot last year).

"I'm in trouble with those guys because I don't bend to the will of Mayor Street," DiCicco says. "I didn't get elected to be anybody's rubber stamp."

In an interview before the fourth RTS summit, Anastasio named some politicians who seem most in tune with RTS' agenda, who "speak our language," as he put it: Councilmen Jim Kenney, Frank Rizzo Jr. and Michael Nutter, and City Controller Jonathan Saidel (his land value tax proposal is popular among RTSers). When asked about DiCicco, who is closely aligned with Kenney, Anastasio said, "I'm sure there's going to be a conversation in the future with Councilman DiCicco -- and Councilman Angel Ortiz and Councilman Thacher Longstreth and the administration. We're going to need all hands on deck. The Neighborhood Bill of Rights has to be hammered out first."

As for rumors of his political aspirations, Anastasio all but rules out a run this year. "There would have to be an incredible alignment of the moon and the sun and the stars for me to run for Council," he says. He admits he's been courted by power brokers, but won't elaborate (and not for the first or last time, he expresses concern that this story will be more about political intrigue than the movement).

The right to city services that are delivered efficiently and effectively.

"Our municipal agencies shall be designed to minimize work duplication, maximize the efficient delivery of services and streamline procedures to improve productivity. Our police force shall be on our streets in residential areas and commercial corridors. Our elected officials shall protect the physical qualities that make Philadelphia great: its historic streets and architecture and its intimate, human-scaled neighborhoods, and its magnificent parks and urban squares. Our city's Blight Initiative shall include open communication and input from our neighborhoods with regular updates and government liaisons. Our Parking Authority shall be reasonable in its enforcement. Our Department of Licenses and Inspections shall work more closely with neighborhoods on zoning issues and code enforcement. Our government shall work toward relinquishing all nonessential real estate holdings to private developers and initiate a plan to turn the Philadelphia Gas Works over to private operators."

"I don't understand it," he says. "No disrespect, I'm sure a lot of time and effort went into it, but most of what's here I've already addressed. What I see in this document are things we do in [Council] every day. And you don't just wish this stuff. There is a process, and in that process you've got to convince a majority of elected officials." This is why he believes excluding pols from the summits was a mistake.

Philadelphians seem wedded to generations-old notions of "the way things work," says Laura Lanza, an RTS participant who's pursuing a doctorate in city and regional planning at Penn (more specifically, neighborhood revitalization, and the forces that compel people to stay or leave). "I love Philadelphians," says Lanza, who lives in Port Richmond, "but I've had a hard time reconciling how they accept such low standards of vision and service."

Lanza says she's observed that getting things done in Philly is all about who you know; community leaders almost invariably are tied in some way to, and reliant upon, their local elected officials. This benefits the politicians, who seemingly can't go wrong running for re-election on their records for constituent services -- and therefore have little incentive to take on big-picture issues or systemic problems. Why attempt to reform the entire Streets Department, for example, when all voters really want is to know they can get a pothole filled quickly with one phone call? Similarly, there is little incentive to help communities become more self-sufficient by, for example, bringing their leaders together to share ideas and experiences.

The Reasons to Stay movement, she says, has brought together scores of community leaders who now want more. The first summit, held last year, began, understandably, as a bitch session, but once the participants broke off into task forces, the discussions were substantive, productive and far-reaching. The result of these meetings and the constant chatter on an active listserv (from which politicians and reporters have been barred) was the Neighborhood Bill of Rights.

And now the movement faces the question that DiCicco also poses: What does it mean?

Immediately after the unanimous ratification of the NBR, the questions from newcomers started. Who wrote this? Is it set in stone, or can we tinker with it some more? What about those neighborhoods that aren't represented here -- will they get a chance to add stuff? Should we all sign it, like the Declaration of Independence? Can I sign it later, after I consult with my board?

The summits are a curious mix of progress and hesitation -- more of the former, but there's enough of the latter to provide a small dose of tension. Those who have been involved from the start tend to speak decisively -- remarkably so, for a community meeting -- and are quick to second and vote on motions to proceed. "When you have something that's run by people who are constantly dealing with problems in their neighborhoods, the tenor is different," says A.J. Thompson of the Fishtown Neighbors Association.

Those who have just come aboard, however, tend to want more discussion on everything from specific references within the NBR to what Reasons to Stay is, where it's headed and who's in charge. And as the movement attempts to bring in more groups from more parts of the city -- a stated priority -- this push-and-pull dynamic may become more pronounced.

At the fourth summit, Anastasio guided a strangely protracted discussion of how the NBR would be used. Some seemed troubled by the notion of asking mayoral and Council candidates to sign it and pledge to work toward its goals, as had been planned all along; would this mean that RTS was becoming a political movement? Would it endorse candidates? Anastasio assured them it would not. RTS will be "apolitical," he said; otherwise, "we'll become as corrupt as they are."

But of course it is a political movement, at least in the sense that it aims to influence policy. But what about influencing elections? Declining to endorse specific candidates does not by itself make an organization apolitical; many Catholic dioceses release voters' guides outlining how closely candidates' positions on various issues correlate to Church teaching. These do not meet the IRS' definition of an endorsement (nonprofit entities are not supposed to be politically active), but the message is clear.

And if elected officials find this threatening? Well, maybe they should. Reasons to Stay, says Anastasio, is the "natural byproduct" of widespread dismay over the city's near and distant futures.

"We're starving for leadership," he says. "The organizers of Reasons to Stay are providing leadership. They don't have to get elected to provide leadership. Or maybe they do. I guess we'll find out."