History is made every Election Day. No matter the time, the place, the office, or the officer, the ceremonial passing of the political torch is one of our country's most celebrated and well-documented cultural milestones.
But October 3, 2017 in Birmingham, Alabama--that was a bit different. A bit more historic than usual.
That was the day that 36-year-old criminal prosecutor and community organizer Randall Woodfin was elected mayor of the Magic City, unseating a two-term incumbent nearly twice his age.
You'd have to dig deep in the history books to find a Birmingham mayor younger than Woodfin--more than 120 years, to be exact. And if you take a step back and view Woodfin's win from a generational standpoint, it gets even more interesting.
According to the Pew Research Center, the term "millennial" applies to anyone born between 1981 and 1996. That would make Woodfin--who was born in the cutoff year of '81--Birmingham's first millennial mayor. For those who prefer an alternate timeline, Woodfin would still be Birmingham's first Gen X mayor.
In a city full of young talent, Woodfin is Birmingham's biggest young professional success story. And not for lack of competition--from 2010 to 2016, Birmingham's population of young professionals (anyone ages 25-34 with a bachelor's degree) rose 54 percent, and residential unit growth downtown is expected to more than double over the next two years.
Amidst this boom in the professional sector, Woodfin has made a name for himself by being approachable, relatable, and incredibly likable. But there are some who still don't know much about our fair city's new leader--at least outside of his political aspirations and economic plans.
Consider this your crash course. We'll call it Woodfin 101.
ON GROWING UP
Woodfin's love for his city runs deep.
Mayor Woodfin as a child.
He was born and raised in Birmingham--specifically North Birmingham and Crestwood--and aside from his college years plus a couple, he's lived here his whole life. That includes schooling at North Birmingham Elementary School, Putnam Middle School, and Shades Valley High School.
His mother spent nearly 30 years in "corporate America," as Woodfin says, before earning a degree in education at age 50 and teaching for more than a decade. His father was a probation officer for the state for nearly 40 years. Both have been happily retired for nearly two years now.
And while they're no longer working, his parents' careers were a big influence on Woodfin as a child.
"The root of both of their careers is about helping people," he says. "Not necessarily knowing at an early age what career path I wanted to choose, I just knew I wanted to help people."
ON COLLEGE
With helping others on his mind, Woodfin moved away from Birmingham for the first time at age 18 to attend Morehouse College in Atlanta, a school that weighed on his mind because his childhood pastor, Reverend John T. Porter (former friend and pulpit associate of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.), spoke often of his own experience there while working on a master's degree.
In spite of having no SGA experience in high school, Woodfin rose through the student leadership ranks in college and ultimately was elected SGA President his senior year. At Morehouse--a private, service-oriented, historically black college notable for being Dr. King's alma mater--that's akin to being the starting quarterback.
"What football is at Alabama is what student government is at Morehouse," Woodfin says. "It's our varsity sport. And I had a chance to play all types of positions."
Woodfin's 2003 graduation photo from Morehouse College, where he served as SGA president and graduated with honors.
After graduating and taking a year off, Woodfin returned home to continue his studies at Samford University's Cumberland School of Law. The school was a good fit, not just because it was back at home, but because it had a slant on public interest law that spoke to him.
While his years at Cumberland helped prepare Woodfin for his career ambitions, his personal statement held a bit of prophecy before he even began his studies--a realization that didn't come to him until April of this year, when he spoke at a luncheon for the Samford Black Alumni Association.
"About an hour before I spoke, I called the law school to see if they still had my personal statement on file, because I hadn't looked at it since I submitted it in 2003," he says. "And it's all about what I want to do for the city of Birmingham, how I can help the city. And 15 years later, I'm the mayor. It's weird."
ON WORK
To his credit, Woodfin does have a pretty good reason for not pursuing an SGA position in high school--he was putting in work.
Specifically, a co-op program that allowed him to work at the nearby Western
Supermarket beginning at age 15 and through the rest of high school. He started bagging groceries, but he wound up doing a little bit of everything--stock, display, cashier, back-door receiving, etc.
Those years helped prepare Woodfin for an eight-year career as a criminal prosecutor--a job that in turn prepared him for a career in politics, especially in the age of social media.
"For a minimum of eight hours a day for eight years, I was in an adversarial climate," he says. "Just imagine the energy and the atmosphere where a person is charged with a crime, or a person is a victim of a crime. Those are things I dealt with every day. So, I learned not to take it home with me."
One thing Woodfin did take home with him, though, was his lifelong passion of helping others. While practicing law, he served on the Birmingham Board of
Education for four years (including two years as its president), where he formally began his service for the city.
But perhaps the most important lesson he learned from his involvement with the Board of Education was four years earlier--when he ran an unsuccessful campaign for the same position.
"It's the same thing I learned practicing law: I learn when I lose," he says. "You understand what went wrong, how to make things better, how to do things differently. I learned to never run as an island, and I learned to think bigger picture."
ON FAMILY
Woodfin has never truly been an island, though, thanks to a strong commitment to his family. And it certainly doesn't hurt that he's part of a very, very big family.
His mother has seven siblings and his father has five siblings, which means Woodfin has more than 30 first cousins. And that doesn't even include his own siblings--older brother Ralph, older sister Cindy, and younger sister Candace, all of whom he's been close with his whole life.
Mayor Woodfin (middle) at age 8, with his great grandmother Mary McGee and siblings (from left): Cindy (11), Ralph Jr. (16), and Candice (7).
"My mother's house would be defined as the family house," he says. "There were never less than eight people there growing up. And there were four generations in our house, from a 90-plus-year-old all the way down to a two-year-old."
It wasn't until tragedy struck, however, that Woodfin truly became the rock of his family. Six years ago, his brother Ralph lost his life, a victim of gun violence.
"I had just talked to him about six hours before he was killed," he says. "Our last words to each other--he told me he loved me, I told him I loved him. And I was with him the night before."
Tragedy struck yet again just last year, during Woodfin's mayoral campaign, when his nephew--Ralph's son and namesake--lost his life to gun violence as well. And yet, in the midst of another tragic loss, Woodfin found a silver lining: an even stronger commitment to serving others.
"I think there are so many grieving mothers in this city," he says. "And I'm trying to decrease the amount of mothers who have to experience the same pain my mother experienced."
ON READING
Along with a strong work ethic and commitment to family values, Woodfin's father instilled yet another lifelong passion in him: a love of reading.
"The only gifts I got for Christmas from my pops were books and socks," he says. These gifts included a biography of Colin Powell, given to Woodfin before he was even in high school. (Though he didn't read it immediately, he did finish it years later.)
Growing up as an avid reader allowed Woodfin to become a leisure reader as an adult. He reads nonfiction almost exclusively, and he credits Andrew Manis's Fred Shuttlesworth biography "A Fire You Can't Put Out" as not only one of his favorite books, but also a massive influence on his life as a whole. Similarly, the work of Malcolm Gladwell (his favorite author) pushes him to think outside the box.
Biographies and other nonfiction may not seem like "light reading" to some, but for Woodfin, it's become an escape as well as a learning tool.
"I guess I'm a self-proclaimed nerd," he says. "I actually find peace in going to a bookstore, whether it's sitting down reading a book or just perusing through."
ON HIP-HOP
When he's not reading or browsing bookstore shelves, you might find Woodfin listening to music--specifically, "loud, loud rap music" played through the speakers of his 1994 Cadillac.
His love for hip-hop runs deep. Woodfin played the drums for several years growing up, which led to an appreciation of the production side of rap more than the lyricism and delivery.
Woodfin enjoys listening to loud rap and hip-hop music.
"I love rap music, and I'm unapologetic about loving rap music," he says. "What I really love is the production. I'm a big fan particularly of people heavy on drums. So, a producer like Mannie Fresh--I love Mannie Fresh because he's heavy on the drums. I like Dr. Dre as a producer. I like The Neptunes and their production. I like Organized Noize, their production side. I like Big K.R.I.T., his production side, and his rap side as well. All the guys that produce for the Migos. I like producers."
Of course, rap music has become a talking point in certain political circles, specifically the use of objectionable lyrical content. In Woodfin's eyes, it's more complex than that.
"I remember when I was young, my mother breaking one of my brother's cassette tapes, stepping on the tape, because of the vulgar part of it," he says. "But what I find is, it's almost like a chicken and egg situation, the influence it has. Does the art influence life, or does life influence art? I think rap music falls somewhere in the middle. But there's a question mark. I'm 37, and I still can't answer it."
ON FOOTBALL
Although Woodfin didn't excel at sports as a young man--though he did play for the A.G. Gaston Boys Club and the Partners In Athletics league--he's an avid fan of college football, as one might expect from a Birmingham native.
And while his work pushes him to find common ground in most situations, that's not the case here. He's an Alabama fan through and through.
Woodfin, who graduated high school with Crimson Tide linebacker standout Saleem Rasheed, isn't a fairweather fan or a bandwagon jumper. He grew up as a Bama fan, and he stuck with them even when times were tough.
"I've got vivid memories of '92, and I've got vivid memories of '99," he says. "Even the hard days, I was right there. Loyal fan. Thick and thin."
Even in such a large family, Alabama was the only football brand allowed. No Auburn fans acknowledged.
"It's blasphemy," he says. "Cast thee out. We're not here for that."
ON FOOD
One place Woodfin is always willing to find common ground is at the dinner table. Especially when it comes to Birmingham's booming crop of restaurants.
Woodfin admits that he had his doubts when Urban Standard and Rogue Tavern arrived on 2nd Avenue North--"We'll see how long this lasts," he said at the time--but eight years later, he's enjoyed watching the city's menu grow longer and more diverse.
"We've seen the growth of the food scene in our city," he says. "You've got variety. You've got options. It's all over the city. There's literally eateries on every block. They're always packed, always full."
And for his meal of choice? Soul food.
"Porkchop (fried). Cabbage. Mac and cheese. Cornbread. A little hot sauce. I'm unhealthy, I'm sorry."
ON DATING
Woodfin doesn't mind cooking for one, either.
That is to say, he's a bachelor, for better or for worse. While he admits that he's still working toward attaining a healthier work/life balance, he understands that there are advantages to being single while serving the city.
"There are pros and cons to being single," he says. "If I were in a committed relationship as a husband, I feel like I would be neglectful right now. That's true. We don't leave here at 5 [p.m.], and sometimes we get here before 8 a.m. And there's no such thing as a weekend off."
Don't be surprised if Woodfin's relationship status changes in the near future, though. He's not just one of the most powerful men in the city--he's easily one of the best-dressed, known for his slick suits and funky, patterned socks.
ON TRAVEL
Whenever Woodfin does find his mate, there surely will be a bit of sightseeing in their future.
But he's not a very leisurely traveler. Whenever Woodfin leaves home, he's headed to places where there's plenty to see and do.
"Some people love beaches, some people love the mountains, but I love cities," he says. "I think the prettiest city in America is Seattle, if you can catch it when it's not raining. From a skyline standpoint, Chicago has the prettiest skyline in America. For a city for fun, New Orleans, hands down. And a city literally just to get lost in is New York."
There's plenty of love in his heart for Atlanta as well, having spent his college years there plus a couple more.
But the best part of traveling, though he knows "it may sound quirky," is coming home.
"As a child, I always wanted to explore," he says. "Dreaming about what I wanted to do, I was always far off somewhere. I always had an affinity to come home, but I think anybody should explore."
ON RELIGION
Part of the comfort of home for Woodfin is his religious upbringing.
His pastor from growing up had an influence on his college choice. But Woodfin's spirituality as a whole has been an influence on his passions, relationships, and career ambitions.
As a Christian and a member of Sixth Avenue Baptist Church, Woodfin sees his faith as an example to follow when he's back in the office on Monday morning.
"I think this whole notion of being a Christian, of being Christlike, is building our community through servant leadership," he says. "My whole mission is to serve people, to help people. This whole notion of Christlike, I think that's exactly what that means."
ON SOCIAL MEDIA
One of the easiest ways for Woodfin to serve others is by interacting through social media--an advantage that mayors of yore weren't exactly privy to.
With a steadily growing social presence--24,000 followers on Facebook, 17,000 on Twitter, 14,000 on Instagram--he's not only able to spread his positive messages instantly and to a large audience, but he's also able to communicate more easily with those who need his help.
Of course, as anyone on the grid knows, it's not all sunshine on the timeline.
"I'm in a position as mayor where everything I do is on display," he says.
"Everyone's vocal, but sometimes supporters tend to be quiet, and those who don't support you tend to not be quiet."
He's learned how to handle the digital spotlight with grace and tolerance (one of his favorite words).
"I stand tall in tolerance," he says. "We're all made differently, so I have an expectation that the majority of people's opinions will be different from mine. And I want everyone to know I'm very OK with that. I don't have the luxury to oversimplify or be in my feelings."
ON GENERATIONS
Woodfin's ability to adapt to social media is no surprise, considering his age.
And while being born in 1981 makes him difficult to define in terms of generational labels, he sees it as an advantage--a way to bridge the gaps between groups and engage with members of multiple communities.
"I'm a cusp baby," he says. "I'm a hybrid. I'm a tail-end Gen Xer, Generation Y, millennial. I'm a Goonies fan. I'm an '80s baby. But I embrace the labels. I can appreciate everybody's different generation, and I can appreciate what everybody brings to the table."
Some might mistake his youth for inexperience. But for Woodfin, when it came to his campaign, he never thought of his age as a burden or a shortcoming. In fact, he saw it as an asset.
After all, if a city is hungry for change, who better to bring it about than the younger generations?
"What I've seen with any type of change in our country, these movements are usually led by younger people," he says. "I asked the citizens of Birmingham if they were ready to embrace change, regardless of my age. And I believed the answer was yes."
ON THE FUTURE
The thing that unifies Woodfin with his constituents, no matter what generation they belong to, is that they want Birmingham to get better.
Right now, Woodfin's primary focus is on creating jobs by diversifying the city's local economy. He wants to support innovation and entrepreneurship, knowing that it will lead to economic growth.
But he knows, just like we know, that there's something bigger going on. Something harder to describe. Something that puts us in a unique position to break free from a chapter in our city's history that puts us in a negative light.
It's something he sees when he's away. And it's something he sees when he's here at home.
It's different. It's new. And it's ours.
"When I tell people I'm from Birmingham, I don't get the weird look anymore," he says. "There's excitement. I think there is genuine hope in our city. We're in control of our own destiny. So the strength of Birmingham is [that we can decide] what we want our narrative to be."
WOODFIN'S FAVORITES
Mannie Fresh
Dr. Dre
The Neptunes
Organized Noize
Big K.R.I.T.
Fried Porkchops
Cabbage
Mac & Cheese
Cornbread
Hot Sauce
Soul Food
Seattle
Chicago
New Orleans
New York City
Atlanta
Movie: Inception / The Goonies
Athlete: LeBron James
Drink: Water / Bud Light / Crown Royal
Animal: English Bulldog
Superhero: Iron Man / Wolverine
Band: Outkast
Color: Blue
Author: Malcolm Gladwell
A GENERATIONAL APPROACH
Woodfin explains how different generations approach solving the same problem:
"You have a pothole. Generation Boomer in their old Cadillac hits the pothole. Generation X with the three kids in the minivan hits the pothole. Then you've got the 21-year-old with the Box Chevy and the pothole bent his 22-inch rims. Now, how do all three of them respond to City Hall? What would they like to see?
The Baby Boomer is going to want to physically come down here and talk to the mayor, or somebody that deals with potholes.
The Generation Xer, the mother with the three children, is going to want to email or call, to discuss those services via email.
Then guess what the young Millennial is going to want? They want the 3-1-1 app. They want to be able to take the picture--[to say] this is the problem; they don't necessarily even want to engage, in person or over the phone or email, just the app.
So it's the same pothole, it's the same issue, but how three different generations communicate that issue and/or want to receive information from that same issue, is different. As mayor, I have to be able to embrace all three."
--By Jeremy Burgess | Photos by Cary Norton
This story appears in Birmingham magazine's July 2018 issue. Subscribe today!