Citizen Action is right. The statewide advocacy organization has been pushing Monroe County to do more to help its lowest-income residents with housing costs.

New York State has not raised the public assistance shelter allowance since 2003. In Monroe County, a family of three receives $343 a month for rent. The Fair Market Rent for a two-bedroom apartment is $1,573. Because no apartment exists at that price point, families drain their entire public assistance grant — $732 a month for a family of three, including the rental allotment — to cover the gap, leaving nothing beyond their SNAP benefits.

The county’s response to Citizen Action’s campaign has been to point to everything it already does: affordable housing construction, eviction prevention, emergency rental assistance, supportive housing. These programs are important, though arguably difficult to access. But they are almost entirely funded with state and federal dollars. What Monroe County will not do — has consistently refused to do — is commit local tax dollars to help people pay rent.

I have been trying since 2023.

That year, I proposed a locally funded housing voucher pilot: roughly $2 million, 125 families with children, one year. Rejected. I also proposed a $10 million housing stabilization fund. Rejected. Housing activist Amy D’Amico and I wrote an Action Plan to End Homelessness estimating a countywide program for every eligible family would cost about $23 million annually — less than 2 percent of the county budget.

For years, the county’s position was that its hands were tied — that shelter allowances are set by New York State and local government has little room to act. That argument has now quietly shifted. County officials have acknowledged that Monroe County could pursue rental supplements in coordination with the state. The obstacle, they now say, is cost: raising shelter assistance across the entire active public assistance caseload could run roughly $39 million a year in local funds.

That is a real and large number. It is also the maximalist scenario, offered as a reason to do nothing rather than as a starting point for figuring out what is possible.

The county also argues that vouchers alone cannot solve the housing crisis without available units, landlord participation, and supportive services. But that infrastructure — shelters, eviction prevention, emergency assistance — exists precisely because vouchers are scarce. It is what you build when people can’t pay rent. A housing voucher starts from a different premise entirely: people deserve a place to live.

Monroe County is currently participating in a state-funded pilot serving roughly 100 families in which rent is capped at 30 percent of household income. The premise — that stable housing improves outcomes for families — is already being tested here, at state expense, with county participation. My 2023 proposal was built on the same idea.

The county is comfortable administering other people’s programs.1 It is not willing to treat housing instability as something worth spending local money to prevent. I get it — our residents are burdened by property taxes and we have many competing demands on those resources.

But we already pay for the consequences: shelters, emergency health care, child protective services, encampments. The question is not whether housing instability costs taxpayers money. It does. The question is whether Monroe County is willing to get ahead of the crisis for even a fraction of what it costs to respond to it.

Citizen Action deserves a real answer. Not a list of programs that already exist. Not a worst-case estimate designed to end the conversation.2 An honest accounting of what this county is willing to do — and what it has decided it is not.

Todd Baxter has been the Monroe County Sheriff since 2018. He commands 1,100 employees. He runs the county jail. He decides who gets hired, promoted, and fired within his agency. He oversees investigations and awards contracts.

He also runs a consulting business.

Baxter & Barnes Leadership is a for-profit firm that Sheriff Baxter co-operates while serving as your Sheriff. It has a logo, a Facebook page, a program catalog, and paying clients. I know it has paying clients because Erie County’s jail management operation paid it $1,800 in April 2025. I know Jefferson County’s entire command staff went through one of its flagship programs because BBL posted about it on Facebook. (I have FOIL’d the payment.)1

That program is called “Transforming Jail Culture.” It is, per BBL’s own marketing, “designed for jail leadership.” Sheriff Baxter designed and sells a program about how to run a county jail. He knows how to run a county jail because Monroe County pays him $175,000 to do exactly that. Your tax dollars built the product he is selling.

The firm’s Facebook page opens with the words “Sheriff Todd Baxter” and describes the Monroe County Sheriff’s Office — its personnel, its bureaus, its budget — as the basis for his qualifications. He is using his badge to get clients.

On May 13, 2026 — this week — BBL posted a photograph of Sheriff Baxter in his law enforcement uniform to promote the business. The Monroe County Sheriff, in his uniform, selling his consulting firm. The Monroe County Board of Ethics found a violation in 2023 when he appeared in a car commercial without his uniform, without his title, and without any reference to his official position. He is now doing all three on the same Facebook page where he sells jail consulting to other counties.2

I filed an ethics complaint with the Monroe County Board of Ethics.3 I would not be surprised if someone beat me to it, this is so outrageous and unusual for elected officials to do while in office.

Here is why this matters.

The group of people who would write a check to BBL is the exact group of people over whom Sheriff Baxter exercises authority. A subordinate seeking promotion. A candidate from a neighboring agency who wants to work for MCSO. A vendor seeking a Sheriff’s Office contract. Someone under investigation by his office. Every single one of them can pay him — legally, openly, with a receipt — and call it professional development.

You don’t need an explicit quid pro quo to influence someone with money.

BBL also advertises a program called “Leadership Essentials for the Newly Promoted,” designed for officers seeking promotion to Sergeant, Lieutenant, or Captain. Sheriff Baxter controls those promotion decisions within MCSO. He is marketing leadership training to officers seeking advancement within the same professional hierarchy he controls.

The Monroe County Board of Ethics found a violation in 2023 over a car commercial. They told him then to seek an advisory opinion before engaging in future activities that might raise ethics questions. We will find out if he ever did that with respect to BBL. Whatever guardrails are in place — if any — he seems to be smashing through them.

This does not seem to be a gray area. The office is the product.

The City of Rochester has released its final draft zoning code, which includes new regulations for short-term rentals (STRs). Airbnb has the lion’s share of STR bookings in Rochester.

The first draft was proposed in 2022, and banned STRs in most residential neighborhoods. The 2026 regulations permit Airbnbs across most zoning districts, with some restrictions.1

From “no” to “how much”

The 2022 draft took a blunt approach: keep STRs out of low and moderate-density residential neighborhoods. If you wanted to operate an Airbnb, you were largely pushed into higher-density or commercial areas, often with a special permit.

The 2026 code flips that model on its head.

Instead of asking where STRs should be allowed, the City is now asking how many and under what conditions. STRs are permitted across most zoning districts, but subject to limits that are supposed to prevent over-concentration and commercialization.2

The 25% rule

The centerpiece of the new framework is a cap: in multi-family buildings, no more than 25% of units can be used as short-term rentals. Go beyond that, and the building is treated as a hotel.

This is clearly aimed at a real and growing problem: investors buying small apartment buildings and converting them entirely into Airbnbs. Six or eight-unit apartment buildings have been advertised for sale on Zillow, claiming all units are STRs. That’s unacceptable. Unregulated hotels don’t belong on residential streets.

Under the 2022 draft, the City tried to solve it geographically by banning STRs in large swaths of the city. Under the 2026 code, the City is trying to solve it structurally by limiting how far any one building can be converted.

Owner-occupied is protected

The 2026 code draws a clear line between homeowner use and investor-driven conversion.

If you live in the property, short-term rentals are still allowed. In a two-family home, you can rent the other unit short-term without a special permit. In larger buildings, one unit is still allowed by right, but going further requires a special permit — and no building can exceed 25% of its units as STRs regardless. The premise is straightforward: a home that remains occupied by its owner doesn’t have the same risk profile as an investor-run short-term rental.

The rules work differently when no one lives there. An investor who owns a two-family house cannot realistically use either unit as an STR — one unit would represent 50% of the building, above the cap. A single-family home, by contrast, can operate as a whole-unit STR, often requiring a special permit in residential zones.

That creates a clear hierarchy:

• An owner of a four-unit building who lives in one unit can operate one additional unit as an STR.

• A single-family home can operate as a full-time STR with a special permit.

• A two-family investment property cannot be used for STRs at all.

Two-family homes sit in an awkward middle. The code’s logic is that blocking both units protects more housing stock at once. But the code is largely silent on what happens when single-family STRs concentrate in the same neighborhood — a different problem that building-level caps don’t address and that I discuss below.

Three gaps remain

The 2026 code is a real improvement. It replaces the near-ban on short-term rentals in the 2022 draft with a framework that allows them to operate, while still putting real limits in place to curb large-scale conversion of housing. It also preserves a path for owner-occupied use, rather than treating all STR activity the same.

But there are still gaps.

First, the City should consider a universal registration system for whole-unit STRs. Not every operator will be required to go through a formal approval process — owner-occupied doubles and some single-family homes can operate without one. Without a registration requirement, those properties could be running with no city knowledge at all: no complete picture of where STRs are concentrated, no way to verify the 25% cap is being respected in multi-family buildings, and no way to proactively enforce the operating standards that apply to every whole-unit STR under the code, including the requirement that every operator designate a local manager available around the clock. A universal registration requirement would give the City a complete picture of the market and a baseline for enforcement, something that's especially important after the County opted out of a registry.

Second, there are fundamental questions about how Special Permits will be granted. The code leans heavily on this process to manage impacts, but it never clearly defines the standards that should guide those decisions. Without clear, consistent criteria, outcomes risk hinging on who shows up to oppose a project rather than on predictable, citywide rules, making the system both inequitable and difficult to enforce.

The third gap is geographic concentration. The code limits how many units can operate within a building, but it doesn’t address how STRs cluster within neighborhoods. In some areas, that concentration is already a concern. If those impacts are real, they should be addressed through clear, targeted rules in areas where concentration is an issue, not left to case-by-case battles over individual permits.

The 2026 code moves the City in the right direction, and it’s clear city planners listened to feedback from all sides. I encourage City Council to explore universal STR registration while taking a structured approach to neighborhood-level impacts.

Kathryn Walker was forced off the ballot on the Democratic line.

The Irondequoit Town Board candidate was given a choice: end your campaign or you and several of your volunteers will face criminal charges for petition fraud. Walker chose to admit her petition was invalid and make the lawsuit and threats go away.

Never mind that the people offering her that deal had no authority on criminal matters. Never mind that Walker was accused of something many elected officials appear to have done this petition cycle. Never mind that criminal charges for petition fraud are so rare, it doesn’t appear to have happened in Monroe County since the mid-1990s.1

But when you have a family, a job and a reputation, you don’t take chances. Not when it’s a congressman and his son leading the charge against you. Not when the law firm suing you is a high-powered Albany lobbying firm.2 Not when you don’t have a lot of money to defend yourself. Not when your volunteers are getting dragged down with you.

Was her petition fraudulent?

Walker submitted 791 signatures — 291 more than required. The Monroe County Board of Elections found 708 valid signatures, well above the threshold.

Joe Morelle, Jr. filed suit alleging fraud. Only a court can make that determination, and because Walker withdrew, we will never get that answer.

The allegations centered on a small number of situations where voters signed for household members. In two instances, Walker herself was accused of allowing that to happen. That would be against the rules. Whether it rises to the level of fraud depends on the specific facts. Those facts were never aired or tested in court.

Morelle’s team also alleged dozens more signatures were fraudulent. They treated printed signatures as fraudulent and then went about trying to prove it. Walker’s campaign, in response, gathered roughly 70 affidavits from these voters affirming that they did, in fact, sign.3

Selective enforcement

Here’s the bigger issue.

In New York, petitions are only scrutinized if someone files a challenge.4 That means enforcement is uneven by design. Many flawed petitions are never examined at all.

Walker was accused of allowing voters to sign for household members.5 It’s technically illegal, but also common. I reviewed Morelle’s own petitions and identified 43 instances that appear to be one voter signing for another voter in the household. Some were even witnessed by elected officials or their staff. But appearances aren’t proof. To make that case, someone would need to do exactly what was done to Walker: track down voters, secure notarized affidavits, and file a lawsuit alleging fraud.

Most candidates and most voters don’t have the resources to do that. Most candidates don’t have the kind of connections or influence needed to raise the possibility of criminal charges in a civil case and have it carry any kind of weight.

So what you end up with is a system where the rules are strict, enforcement is selective, and outcomes depend heavily on who has the capacity to challenge — and defend — a petition.

Walker gets bounced from the ballot and Irondequoit voters get denied a choice.

What this means

This is a dark day in Rochester politics.

The message is clear: if you challenge us, we will come down on you with everything we have. Your petitions better be perfect. If they’re not, we will use every available legal tool, including the threat of criminal exposure, to pressure you and your volunteers. We will try to destroy your reputation and drain your resources until you have no choice but to walk away.

That is what happened here.

It was not about ballot integrity. It was not about justice. It was not about a candidate who messed up and paid the price. It is about a powerful congressman who used his power to eliminate an extremely talented woman who posed a threat to his control of Irondequoit politics — and to make sure no one like her tries again.

This has nothing to do with petitions. This has nothing to do with law-breaking.

This has everything to do with democracy, a broken ballot access system, and Irondequoit voters who will once again have their town board candidate chosen for them.6

Kathryn Walker was forced off the ballot for one reason: they don’t want you to choose, because they know if you did, you wouldn’t choose them.

4

This is from 1993.

I grew up at the Maplewood Y. I swam there. I became a member of the downtown Metro Carlson Y as an adult because I’m an avid swimmer and that’s what swimmers do — they find a convenient pool.

I, like many others, have never gotten over the closure of Carlson. It was a wonderful, diverse facility in the heart of the city, the kind of place that actually lived up to the Y’s mission of bringing communities together. It’s gone now.

And this week, on WXXI’s Connections, the CEO of the YMCA of Greater Rochester explained why it’s not coming back.

During the pandemic, the YMCA of Greater Rochester closed two of three full-service city facilities: the Metro Carlson downtown Y and the Monroe Y. These closures happened shortly after they opened the Schottland Y in Pittsford, a gleaming, full-service facility that an emailer to the program described as the Taj Mahal of Ys.

Five and a half years later, the closure of the city Ys still gnaws at Rochester residents, as evidenced by the calls and emails to the WXXI show.

YMCA CEO Ernie Lamour said the quiet part out loud. City residents, he explained, don’t need what Pittsford has. They need food. They need healthcare. They need help with transportation. He presented this as something the community told him. “When we do town halls in the Marketview Heights area,” he said, “the top three things that our neighbors and our members are looking for are access to food... access to health care... and they have a lack of transportation.”

It's true that people in underserved neighborhoods need food access and healthcare. But notice what Lamour is doing: presenting the absence of full-service city facilities as a response to expressed community need, rather than what it actually is — a resource allocation decision made by his predecessor that created the stripped-down conditions at Lewis Street, Thurston Road, and Innovation Square that he’s now rationalizing. Lewis Street and Thurston Road aren’t even open on weekends. One caller described Innovation Square as a hotel gym.

The previous CEO made choices not to invest in city facilities. Utilization dropped — as it tends to do when facilities are neglected and underpromoted. Then those utilization numbers became the justification for closure. The Y officials said 120 people a day used Carlson. But how was Carlson marketed in its final years? What was its maintenance budget? And critically, the Y offers financial assistance programs specifically so lower-income families can access membership. Were those programs actively promoted in city neighborhoods? Were subsidized memberships being offered to fill those facilities? A nonprofit with a mission to serve all communities has tools to drive utilization that a private gym doesn’t. The question is whether those tools were used — or whether the organization had already decided where it wanted to invest.

Jane, a 40-plus year member turning 80, called in to ask about a walking track at Maplewood. She’d lost Carlson, her home Y, when it closed. She said there were four weeks this winter when she couldn’t walk outside safely and had nowhere to go. She asked if bringing a walking track back to Maplewood is realistic. The Y officials’ answer was essentially: other Ys have walking tracks. You can go to those. But when another listener asked how people without cars are supposed to access the Schottland Y, they acknowledged it’s not on a bus line. So the answer to an 80-year-old who needs a walking track is: go to another Y — one you can’t get to without a car.

Then an emailer asked would the Y consider building a Pittsford-style facility in the city? “No,” Lamour said. When pressed on whether there’s simply not the same level of demand in the city, he agreed: “There really hasn’t been.”

Demand doesn’t exist in a vacuum. City residents — disproportionately lower-income — can’t afford the membership fees that make a facility like Pittsford viable. So the Y builds where people can pay, and then treats the outcome as evidence of what the community “wants.”

It’s also worth noting where Lamour himself works out. He said he uses the Schottland Y and the East Side Y in Penfield early mornings, sometimes with a personal trainer. He wants us to believe that the city has adequate Y offerings, but he won’t use them himself.

What Lamour is actually doing is reframing the question. He was asked about access to full-service facilities — pools, programs, spaces people can use. His answer was about food, healthcare, and transportation. Those are real needs. But they’re not the same question. Pittsford gets the pool and the robust fitness programs. The city gets the pantry. That’s not meeting people where they are. That’s deciding what they deserve.

These aren’t our only choices. The Y is supposed to be the place where families can have access to full-service fitness amenities and human services. The YMCA is a nonprofit. It operates tax-exempt. It solicits charitable donations on the basis of its mission to strengthen communities. Maplewood remains a full-service Y with a pool. One such facility serves the city of Rochester, a city of 200,000 people.

Lamour said he arrived four years ago hearing constant questions about the disparity between what the suburbs have and what the city has. His answer has been food pantries, an iGaming center, and a virtual urgent care kiosk.

I found the entire interview astonishing. The message to city residents is we are second-class citizens. The Y should absolutely offer services tailored to the communities it serves, but those services should be additions, not substitutes for the amenities city residents long enjoyed before someone decided we didn’t need them anymore.

If ballot integrity were the standard, you would expect the Morelle machine to have challenged Sherita Traywick. By ballot integrity, I mean the candidate has met all legal requirements to appear on the ballot.

Traywick filed petitions as a Democratic congressional candidate this cycle. The campaign of the other Democratic challenger, Robin Wilt, reviewed them and determined she was short hundreds of valid signatures,1 largely because non-Democrats and non-enrolled voters had signed. Wilt filed an objection. The Morelle campaign did not.

Meanwhile, the Morelle machine — via the congressman’s son, Joe Morelle Jr. — is suing a first-time Irondequoit town board candidate, alleging she and her volunteers obtained signatures through fraud. They also claim many voters printed rather than signed their names, a technicality that turns on how a voter signed their registration card, or on affidavits if the matter goes to trial. There will be a trial next week2 on whether Walker has met the signature threshold and whether fraud “permeates” the volume, the legal standard for removing a candidate from the ballot.

Traywick’s problem is the kind that can knock a candidate off the ballot cleanly — not enough padding to overcome the loss of invalid signatures. No fraud allegations required. No court required. Walker’s case is harder. It requires escalation, legal resources, and a much higher bar. And yet the Morelle machine skipped the easy one and went after the harder one — hiring an expensive Albany lobbying firm to do it.

It’s not hard to see why. Conventional wisdom says Traywick’s presence on the ballot helps Morelle — she splits the anti-Morelle vote with Wilt. Walker is a different calculation. Her winning is a direct challenge to Morelle’s future control over Irondequoit, his base of power.

Wilt did have a motive to challenge Traywick’s petitions. Unfortunately for her, the State Board of Elections’ preliminary finding is that the campaign’s objection had a fatal flaw: insufficient service. The Wilt campaign did not properly notify Traywick or the board, something the campaign strongly disputes. But the challenge, mounted without high-powered attorneys, appears to be going nowhere. Traywick likely stays on the ballot.3

Taken together, these choices point to the Morelle operation manipulating the legal process to shape the ballot.

Selective Enforcement

The Traywick-Walker dichotomy demonstrates a defining feature of New York’s ballot access system: selective enforcement.

County and state boards of elections do not conduct a full review of petitions. They perform a prima facie review — checking that filings are complete on their face. They do not verify every signature, confirm party enrollment, or investigate technical compliance. Petitions are only scrutinized if someone challenges them.

That means someone could submit a petition full of defects — even fictitious names — and still make the ballot if no one looks deeper and objects. Meanwhile, another candidate can be taken to court, have every line examined, and face allegations of fraud. Violations only become real when someone with resources decides to make them real.

And violations are common. I reviewed petitions filed this cycle by two prominent sitting elected officials. Both are rife with examples of voters appearing to sign for other household members — the same kind of conduct being alleged against Walker, but arguably on a greater scale. Among the people who appear to have allowed voters to sign for other voters: four elected officials, one union leader and two well-known political operatives. No one filed specific objections. No one filed a lawsuit. No Albany lawyers.

To be clear about what I saw and what it means: appearances are not proof anyone did anything wrong. Each instance is fact-specific. Someone who appears to have signed for a household member may have done so with that person present and consenting. A voter who is disabled may have had a family member sign in their presence. I have a hard time believing every instance I saw would have passed legal muster — but that doesn’t mean these candidates and volunteers engaged in a conspiracy, had any ill-intent, committed fraud, or should cause an entire petition volume to be invalidated. It means that before you bring a ton of bricks down on someone, you might want to make sure your own people won’t also get buried.

Many people will shake their heads at Walker’s situation and say “rules are rules.” Barely able to hide their schadenfreude, they’ll talk about how careful they are when petitioning and the importance of volunteer training. I’ve collected thousands of signatures over the years. I take this process seriously and I understand the stakes are incredibly high.

But the “rules are rules” argument only holds if rules are applied fairly and consistently. They aren’t. They never have been. The burden falls hardest on inexperienced campaigns without resources. To anyone sitting back and saying Walker deserves all this, I challenge you to hand over your favorite candidate’s petition volume to a team of lawyers getting paid tens of thousands of dollars to look for problems.

Rules are only rules when someone decides to enforce them. And in New York State, that decision is strategic.

Make no mistake: what is happening in Walker’s case is not about ballot integrity. If it were, the Morelle machine would have gone after Traywick. The petition process is being used as a weapon. And they only pick it up when it suits them.

Congressman Joe Morelle’s political machine has stooped to a new low – accusing a woman candidate of fraud in an attempt to force her off the ballot.

Kathryn Walker dared to challenge Morelle’s handpicked guy for Irondequoit town board, Ryan Trevas. He is the former leader of the Irondequoit Democratic Committee, an organization tightly controlled by the congressman and County Executive Adam Bello. The seats are filled by their family members, employees and loyalists. The IDC rebuked Walker’s candidacy in a 109-29 vote last month.

Walker did a brave thing by deciding to run anyway, knowing the Morelle operation would come after her.

Come after her they did.

In a rare and aggressive move, Joe Morelle Jr., chair of the IDC and son of the congressman, filed a lawsuit against Walker, claiming her petitions are invalid because signatures were obtained fraudulently.

Fraud allegations in petition challenges are extraordinary, a nuclear option. Courts set an intentionally high bar — proof of widespread, deliberate misconduct, not mistakes or technical errors. These lawsuits are rare, because the legal standard to throw out petitions is the volume has to be “permeated with fraud.” There had to be a concerted effort to deceive.

Walker and her volunteers collected 791 signatures in just three weeks — nearly 300 more than the 500 required. I was one of those volunteers. I reviewed all 73 pages line by line for potential technical issues.1 Even accounting for the defects that routinely knock out signatures — illegible writing, printed names, minor address errors — there is no path to dropping her below the threshold.23

Unless you accuse her of fraud.

The lawsuit accuses Walker and named volunteer petition collectors of fraud, including former Monroe County Health Commissioner Michael Mendoza and Irondequoit Town Council Member Ann Cunningham. Morelle, Jr. made a sweeping allegation designed to open the door to throwing out the entire petition. And accusing prominent people of fraud is attention-getting and inflammatory.

Thus far, Morelle, Jr. has provided no evidence to the court of fraud. Not even one example, much less an entire volume permeated with fraud.

The lawsuit was filed by Joshua Oppenheimer of Greenberg Traurig, a powerful Albany lobbying firm. Oppenheimer represented County Executive Bello in a 2019 lawsuit. The firm employs Chris Del Giudice, who served as legislative director for Congressman Morelle when he was in the state Assembly. The firm also lobbies Monroe County government on behalf of clients seeking procurement opportunities — meaning it has a direct financial interest in maintaining good relations with the machine that controls county government. This is a firm woven into the machine, doing the machine a favor, in an attempt to bury a first-time candidate who collected signatures from her neighbors so she could run for town board.

One question demands an answer: who is paying Greenberg Traurig? The payment or in-kind donation should appear in campaign finance disclosures, traceable to either the IDC or the Trevas campaign.

For the machine, this costs nothing. They have the resources, the connections, and the legal firepower to deploy brute force against anyone who steps out of line. Walker has to fight a lawsuit. They just had to make a phone call.

This is not about ensuring ballot integrity. Walker easily clears the threshold of 500 valid signatures.

This is about intimidation. It is about forcing a candidate and her volunteers to defend themselves against allegations that go far beyond technical compliance. It is about denying voters choices. It is about control.

Walker is just a regular citizen of our community who stepped up to run. Now she’s being sued, her reputation is threatened, and her volunteers and supporters may be dragged into court. The whole thing – weaponizing our legal system this way – is quite Trumpian.4

The odds that this petition will ultimately be invalidated are slim.

But winning the case — even winning the election — is not the point. The point is harassment. The point is bullying. The point is to drain time, money, and energy from a candidate who dared to run without permission from the party bosses.

And to send a message to every other woman thinking about running: this is what will happen to you if you challenge the Morelle machine.

Last night, the Monroe County Legislature passed a resolution1 I led on that requires disclosure of the Sheriff’s surveillance technology purchases over $100,000. The vote was 21-8. It was a good day.

The floor debate was clarifying about why this legislation is important.

For the past year, I’ve been trying to understand why the Monroe County Legislature doesn’t vote on a lot of things it probably should. Social services contracts. Surveillance technology. Major spending decisions entered into by the executive branch with no formal legislative approval. I’ve written letters to the county attorney. I’ve written to state officials. The picture that emerged is of a legislature that has gradually — through legal interpretations and bureaucratic carve-outs — been cut out of decisions our charter contemplates we probably should be making.

We learned during the meeting just how out of whack things have gotten.2

Republicans argued the resolution was an attack on the Sheriff and an unnecessary burden. One asked the Sheriff’s office if legislators can get the information some other way.

The Sheriff’s Office answered that legislators could file FOILs for information they’re seeking.

That answer is offensive. The Monroe County Charter gives the Legislature broad oversight powers, including the authority to request information from county departments. A legislator asking about a surveillance contract isn’t a curious citizen. She is exercising a governmental function. Telling her to file a public records request is telling them to use a citizen’s tool to do a legislator’s job.3

And FOIL is a bad tool for this. There’s no meaningful time limit to comply4 — and when I said as much during the debate, the county attorney disputed me, citing case law. Which means if the Sheriff’s office sits on a records request, my remedy is to sue. A legislator, suing the county she serves, to obtain information about a contract her own government signed.

More fundamentally, FOIL requires you to know what to ask for. If the Legislature isn’t told a contract exists, it can’t request it. The Sheriff’s office could sign a multi-million surveillance deal tomorrow and legislators would have no way of knowing unless someone leaked it or a reporter filed a records request.

The implicit alternative is worse. If a legislator wants information and FOIL is the answer, the only other option is to get 15 colleagues to vote for a formal request. Think about that. A majority vote — the same threshold required to pass legislation — just to ask a question. That’s not how oversight should work.5

This legislation came about after the Democrat and Chronicle reported on a $15.4 million, ten-year contract with Axon it obtained through open records — a deal that included AI tools, body cameras, and software capable of extensive surveillance.

The county attorney’s position was that software is a commodity purchase, not a professional services contract, so legislative approval isn’t required. Fine. But that also means it doesn’t appear in the county’s contract portal, where professional services contracts are disclosed. So there is genuinely no place to look. No portal. No vote. Just: it happened.

During the floor debate, I pointed out that the Legislature also doesn’t vote on many social services contracts. That gap stems from an interpretation of a state regulation about the social service commissioner’s powers, but those contracts at least appear in the county’s contract portal because they qualify as professional services. My broader concern has always been the same: the Legislature is being systematically cut out of major spending decisions. I told my colleagues I’d bet that if I brought disclosure legislation targeting social services contracts, Republicans wouldn’t have objected. The resistance wasn’t about the principle. It was about defending the Sheriff from a perceived attack.

Here’s what I keep coming back to: disclosure is a consolation prize. This legislature learns about major contracts after they’re signed, if at all. My resolution is a workaround for a problem that shouldn’t require one.

Last week, an attorney from the state comptroller’s office called me — a response to letters I’d sent raising exactly these concerns. The message was straightforward: you’re the legislature. Change the rules.

We didn’t change the rules last night. But we passed an important workaround until we get the nerve to go the rest of the way.6

Support Barnhart for County Legislature

After writing about Monroe County’s planned $65.7 million upgrades to ESL Ballpark, and the looming question of whether the Red Wings will remain a AAA team, someone sent me Rochester Community Baseball’s most recent shareholder report.

Reading it, I finally understood what was behind two stadium lease amendments approved over the past year.

The Monroe County Legislature approved two amendments to its lease with Rochester Community Baseball — one in March 2025, one in November 2025. Both transferred significant revenue from the county to RCB. I voted for both.

For the parking amendment, I didn’t catch what it did. For the naming rights amendment, I thought it made sense.

When the final ESL naming rights deal came to a vote, I voted no. I already had a feeling things were being kept from the legislature.

I was right.

The Parking Deal

Under the 2018 lease, Monroe County operated parking at the stadium and kept 100% of the revenue.

In March 2025, that arrangement ended. A lease amendment — introduced as a Matter of Urgency, bypassing committee, moved along with the rest of the agenda — transferred parking management to RCB. The county would now receive 30% of gross revenue. RCB would keep 70%.

The transmittal letter to legislators described the 30% as revenue the county “will receive.” It did not mention that the county had previously received 100%. Nor did it include any dollar projections.

In its most recent shareholder report, RCB reported $609,524 in gross parking revenue in its first year managing the lots, and $310,684 in parking expenses — a line that includes both its payment to the county and its own operating costs. Under the amendment, sales taxes and credit card fees are deducted before the split, leaving a distributable pool of roughly $550,000. The county’s 30% share came to $168,000. After paying roughly $63,000 to Kodak for access to those lots, the county nets around $100,000.

The county is also required to provide three security personnel at each of the 71 home games — at its own expense. Depending on the cost of those personnel, the county’s net from the parking arrangement could be negligible. It could be zero. It could be negative.

Under the original lease, the county would have kept roughly $546,000 after paying Kodak — before security and other operating costs. Instead it took in $168,000.

The Naming Rights Deal

The original lease was also clear on naming rights: the county retains 100% of revenues.

In November 2025, the legislature passed Local Law 7, designating RCB as the county’s “marketing agent” for stadium naming rights. ESL will pay $550,000 per year. RCB, as marketing agent, receives an 18% commission for the remainder of its current lease term. The commission runs through the end of the current lease in 2027, meaning RCB will collect roughly $200,000 for its role in the deal.

How did RCB come to be the county’s marketing agent — and how was 18% determined to be the appropriate fee?

At a September 2025 Agenda Charter meeting, legislators asked the obvious questions: why couldn’t the county handle naming rights on its own, as it always had? And wasn’t it risky to turn down Innovative Solutions’ short-term renewal offer with the deal expiring in November and no replacement sponsor lined up?

A county attorney said the commission had been determined “in dialogue with RCB,” while repeatedly praising RCB’s business relationships and history in the community. There was no market analysis, no competitive bid, no comparison to what other venues pay for similar services.

I left that meeting thinking finding a sponsor could be difficult, as the expiration was coming up without anyone lined up. Going back to the tape, I found a revealing exchange.

A legislator asked whether any company had expressed interest. The attorney responded: “Not to the administration at this time.” The legislator then asked if RCB had any potential sponsors.

“I would imagine they have some ideas but I wouldn’t want to speculate.”

A mere ninety days after the November vote, the legislature approved the ESL deal. ESL signed the contract the same day. I would love to know whether finding a sponsor actually required RCB's special expertise — or whether willing companies were already waiting. It's a question a county attorney's careful answer left wide open.

The Amendments Bailed Out the Red Wings

In its latest shareholder report, Rochester Community Baseball reported revenues of $15 million in 2025 — an all-time high. It also reported an operating loss of $639,000. Two years earlier, the organization had an operating profit of $556,000. The swing: nearly $1.2 million in the wrong direction, even as revenue grew. A significant driver: administrative and general expenses ballooned from $3.9 million in 2023 to $5.4 million in 2025 — a $1.5 million increase the report does not explain. Without the parking deal, last year’s operating loss would have been nearly $1 million. The organization is profitable only because of investment income. Expenses are outpacing revenue, and the gap is growing.1

I don’t raise this to question RCB’s viability. They have $5 million in investments, a loyal fan base, and revenues that hit an all-time high in 2025 — a figure that includes $610,000 in parking revenue that didn’t exist on their books the year before. I raise it because it explains the direction of these deals. A private operator with a deteriorating bottom line has every incentive to seek additional revenue — and over the past year, that revenue has quietly come from the county. Each amendment shifts a stream from public to private. Parking operations. Naming rights commissions. What’s next?

What I’m Doing Differently

Going forward, I will not vote on any matter involving RCB again without two things: a clear accounting of how the proposal affects the county’s bottom line, and the most recent RCB shareholder report. It contains audited financials, a discussion of business risks,2 and management’s own assessment of the organization’s condition. It is exactly the kind of document legislators should have before voting to restructure a revenue relationship with a private operator.

I also intend to find out what the stadium is actually costing the county and what it is actually generating. That should be a simple question. It isn’t. The budget allocates $650,000 in hotel tax revenue to the stadium - up from $500,000 in 2024 – with no explanation of what it pays for. Debt service runs nearly $2 million a year. Revenue from parking, advertising, naming rights, and ticket surcharges is nowhere broken out. Neither are expenses. I cannot tell you with confidence what the county’s net position on the stadium is. That is not acceptable.

The legislature will soon be asked to consider $65.7 million in stadium upgrades and negotiate a new lease. To do that responsibly, we need to understand the county’s true financial position with RCB, the stability of the AAA franchise, and the long-term risks the county is being asked to absorb. Understanding those things before we vote — not after — is our job.

It’s precisely because the team and the stadium are important assets that we should govern accordingly.

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Update: I learned there are six terminals at the clerk’s office downtown where people can look up records for free. RB 4/15/2026

I have used the Monroe County Clerk’s website to look up public records since becoming a reporter in Rochester nearly 30 years ago. I was such a power user that when she was county clerk, Cheryl Dinolfo asked me to test out a new system for looking up records.

That system has now been replaced by a new one — and it includes a paywall.

The fees are steep: $10 for a day pass and $35 a month to access records.

I understand the outrage this has caused, and I am sorry. I voted for those fees, which are buried on page 352 of the 2026 Monroe County Budget. Budget votes are blunt instruments — hundreds of line items, limited debate, and an environment where amendments are discouraged or effectively blocked. In practice, that means provisions like this move forward without a clean up-or-down vote. I did not have a realistic path to pull this out and fight it on its own. But I wish I had tried, and I want to be useful now.

The paywall went into effect April 1. Since then, I’ve spent some time looking at what is still accessible and what is not.1234

The number one reason people use the clerk’s website is to find property records. You want to know who owns that derelict house in your neighborhood. You want to know what your new neighbor paid.

The good news is that you can still see key property information, even if you cannot click through to underlying mortgage documents. If I plug in my name or address, I can see the date the deed was recorded for my house and what I paid.

Things get trickier if an LLC owns a property and you want to know the people behind it. I used to be able to click on mortgage documents to see the individual who signed. That often worked. Now, that path is largely closed off.

But there are still free tools that can get you much of the way there:

Rochester Building Blocks: The city maintains this database of properties. Rental properties include contact information.

Rochester Property Information portal: A barebones site that tells you the last sale date and price and where the tax bill is sent — and whether taxes are current.

Monroe County Real Property Portal: Shows ownership, tax payment history, and lets you download the most recent tax bill.

New York Department of State Division of Corporations: You can look up LLCs, nonprofits, and other entities. Often, you can identify the person behind the entity.

New York Attorney General Charities Database Search: If you’re trying to understand who is behind a nonprofit, this is a useful tool.

People also used the clerk’s database to look up court cases. I never found it to be the best tool for that. The state court portal is free and more effective.

Clerk Jamie Romeo has said the paywall is necessary because of privacy concerns and bots. Those are legitimate issues. But access to government records is also a core public function. Local governments purchase property, file tax abatement agreements, and enter into contracts that shape our community. Those records should be readily accessible to the public.

I hope this policy evolves. In the meantime, I want people to know that access has not disappeared entirely — and that there are still ways to find the information you need.

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In February, I was the only legislator to vote no on the baseball stadium naming rights contract.

I had 6.5 hours to review a potentially 30-year deal. That alone made me uncomfortable. A 30-year commitment is a long time — long enough that the county could be locking in terms while leaving significant revenue on the table if the naming rights market improves.

Since then, legislators have been provided the executed contract. It turns out the contract was signed — by ESL’s CEO — on the day we voted. Possibly before we voted. If you watched the back-and-forth between legislators and the Bello administration that day, you would not have guessed a signed contract was sitting somewhere waiting. We were debating as if we were authorizing the framework of a deal. We were ratifying a done deal.

The only interesting thing in the contract1 is something I zeroed in on during the floor debate. If Rochester Community Baseball loses its AAA franchise, the naming rights deal is void. It’s not just a standard clause because there’s an actual risk of that happening.

For more than a year now, I have pointed to news articles out of Richmond about how the AA Flying Squirrels want to get their AAA franchise back. The city built a new stadium, which opened this season, in part to achieve that goal. The Washington Nationals are only two hours away, and have expressed interest in such a deal in the past.

One problem – the Nationals are affiliated with the Red Wings. There are only so many AAA franchises to go around.2

RCB chief Naomi Silver is well aware, telling WXXI, “But, you know, when we see a new facility going in, a Double-A facility going in, in a city that’s near Washington, I want to make sure that we don’t lose a Triple-A team over it,” she said. “And I think we are on solid ground — as long as we’re keeping up.”

“Keeping up” means investing in the stadium. The same WXXI story noted that County Executive Bello has been quietly pushing a $65.7 million state funding request for stadium upgrades.3

ESL Ballpark turns 30 years old this year. Upgrades are probably due. But do they make sense without guarantees the AAA franchise will stay? Those decisions will likely happen before we have an answer, as the Nationals and Red Wings deal lasts through 2031. Major League Baseball controls these affiliation deals.

So here’s where we are. The legislature was given 6.5 hours to review a 30-year naming rights contract. The contract — that wasn’t provided to the legislature before the vote — contains an exit clause tied to AAA status. The same franchise uncertainty now underlies a massive new public spending push. And the naming rights revenue the county locked in for 30 years is the foundation all of this sits on.

I don’t want to be alarmist. The Red Wings are a beloved franchise known for good attendance and solid management. Many people have told me Rochester would never, ever lose AAA baseball. But I’m not making this up. The Richmond Flying Squirrels have a new $110 million stadium and ambitions for a AAA franchise. Bello wants to spend tens of millions of dollars on our stadium. Silver admitted she’s watching the situation.

We should, too.

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Today is the first day candidates can submit petitions to get on the ballot in New York. It’s also a reminder this is a broken process in need of dramatic reform.

In New York, every candidate — whether you’re an incumbent or endorsed by your party — has to collect signatures from registered members of your party just to appear on the ballot. From Congress down to town board, everyone does it.

The numbers vary. A Rochester mayoral candidate needs 1,000 signatures. An Irondequoit town board candidate needs 500. When I run for reelection, I need about 400.

But those aren’t real numbers.

Because of inevitable challenges, candidates need at least 50% more just to survive. Every petition is scrutinized. Opponents look for technical errors — wrong addresses, illegible handwriting, missing details — anything to knock signatures out.

So 400 becomes 600.

And those 600 signatures don’t come easy.

The most I’ve ever collected myself during a petitioning period is 400. To get there, I had to knock on roughly 2,000 doors in five weeks — assuming a 20% answer rate. Often, it’s worse. One year, I injured my shoulder from carrying my petitioning clipboard for weeks on end.

You can’t just set up a table somewhere and ask people to sign. You have to confirm they’re in your party and live in your district. That means going door to door with lists of registered members of your party, over and over again, hoping someone answers.

And fewer people do.

People have Ring cameras. They don’t open the door. They’re wary of strangers. The majority of voters are simply unaware of this annual, legal process. This year alone, I’m aware of two incidents of residents calling the police to report petitioners for “soliciting.”

The system hasn’t adapted and it has gotten harder.

It’s also exclusionary.

If you can’t physically canvass, this is a major barrier. If you live in a building that won’t grant access, you’re effectively cut off. If you’re in a nursing home, you’re unlikely to be reached. Entire segments of voters — and potential candidates — are left out of the process.

And then there’s the timing.

Petitioning runs from late February to early April — in upstate New York. This year brought icy sidewalks, snow, wind, and bitter cold. One local candidate called me to complain and described it as “hazing.”

That’s not a functioning democracy. That’s a barrier to entry.

Defenders of the system will tell you this is the point. They argue candidates should have to “prove” they can run a campaign — show seriousness, demonstrate infrastructure, clear the bar.

But what this system actually does is protect incumbents and insiders.

It favors people with time, money, networks, and physical mobility.

Current elected officials can tap their staffs and party committees — often the same overlapping group of people — to divide up the work and execute it efficiently. They know the rules. They’ve done it before. They have lawyers and operatives who understand exactly how to survive a challenge.

Outsiders don’t.

If you’re new, you’re learning a byzantine set of technical rules on the fly — rules that can invalidate your effort over something as small as a changed date without an initial. One mistake, and a whole page of signatures can disappear.1

And if you don’t have the time to knock on thousands of doors, the money to hire help, or the physical ability to canvass in winter conditions, you’re at a serious disadvantage before you even begin.

All of that has very little to do with whether someone would be a good elected official.

Other states do this differently.

Some allow candidates to pay a filing fee instead of collecting signatures. Some have lower thresholds. Washington, D.C. allows online petitioning. There’s a proposal in New York to do the same. Another would allow candidates to qualify with support from their party committee.2

We already know change is possible.

In 2021, the state dramatically reduced signature requirements because of the pandemic. The sky didn’t fall. Democracy didn’t collapse. It worked.

We should build on that — lower the thresholds and modernize the process with online petitioning so more people can participate.

Because the current system isn’t a test of leadership. It’s a test of endurance.

And it’s fundamentally undemocratic.

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Tonight I voted yes on a $26 million resolution to purchase and renovate a building for Monroe County. I believe it is the right decision. But I cannot fully explain why — and that is a problem.

Here is what I can tell you: the county is buying 150 Verona St., the former Carestream building, and renovating it. The purchase price is capped at $4 million and the rest of the money will be spent on moving costs and renovations.

Here is what I was told I cannot tell you — at least not until the sale closes: essentially everything else. The fiscal case for the purchase. The projected savings. Which department is moving in. The policy rationale offered in support of the transaction. The environmental impact. Why the county believes its maximum purchase price is fair even though the seller paid only $1.13 million for the building in late 2024. The previous sale is public record.

Legislators were briefed on all of this in executive session. And then I was told by the Monroe County Attorney that I am legally prohibited from disclosing any of it publicly prior to the sale closing.

I spent 18 years covering government, including real estate transactions. I have been a legislator for six and a half years. I have never encountered anything like this.

What the law actually says

New York’s Open Meetings Law allows a public body to go into executive session to discuss a real estate acquisition where publicity could substantially affect the property’s value. That exception exists to protect negotiating details from reaching a seller in ways that could drive up the cost to taxpayers.

Concerned this exception was being interpreted too broadly, I wrote to County Attorney Matthew Schwartz on February 25 asking for a written legal opinion explaining how far the confidentiality obligation actually extends.

I asked if a legislator believed this acquisition was unwise or contrary to the public interest, what could that legislator lawfully say publicly before the vote?

That question requires weighing the government’s interest in confidentiality against the public’s interest in knowing how their money is being spent. That balancing question sits at the center of both the law and democratic accountability.

The county attorney’s response did not directly engage that question. Instead, it cited a FOIL case about public records access, an Attorney General opinion noting municipalities may adopt confidentiality rules, and a case involving the removal of a school board member under the Education Law — a removal power that has no equivalent for elected county legislators.

Under that interpretation, a legislator with serious concerns would have had no lawful way to raise them publicly before casting a vote on a $26 million expenditure.

That is not the only reading of the law.

Article III, §11 of the New York Constitution and the Court of Appeals’ decision in People v. Ohrenstein establish that legislators must be able to speak and deliberate in connection with their legislative duties. The New York State Committee on Open Government — the state body that oversees the Open Meetings Law — has issued multiple opinions stating that executive session confidentiality must be interpreted narrowly and that no statute generally prohibits participants from disclosing what was discussed.

This area of law is far grayer than legislators were led to believe.

Why this matters beyond tonight

Think about the precedent this set. Any time the county executive wants to make a significant real estate purchase, the legislature can be briefed privately, everything discussed can be labeled negotiation-sensitive, and legislators are unable to discuss what they learned until the deal closes. The public gets to engage only after the fact.

That is not how democratic accountability is supposed to work.

I don’t believe the administration had any ill intent. They were trying to protect this deal, and I understand that. But somewhere along the way they went too far, and they forgot to balance the needs of the public with the needs of the negotiation. The public interest is not only about dollars and cents. Protecting the public’s interest also requires allowing the public to fully engage with a $26 million purchase before the vote is cast. That is also about dollars and cents!

It’s not this purchase that worries me. I think this will be a good thing for the county. It’s the next one that might not be.

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Update: The Irondequoit Town Council has committed to not making an appointment until after the June primary. This is honestly the best outcome for democracy. Let the voters decide. Thank you, Town Council! - RB 3/10/26

A seat opened on the Irondequoit Town Council. Congressman Joe Morelle traveled from Washington to personally nominate the man he wants to fill it.

Monday night, the Irondequoit Democratic Committee held its designation meeting for the post, where the party decides who receives its endorsement. Ryan Trevas, former leader of the IDC — a body stocked with Morelle and Bello family members (the chair is Joe Morelle Jr.), employees, and loyalists — received 109 votes. Kathryn Walker received 29. The sole woman on the Town Council, Ann Cunningham, nominated her.

A sitting congressman flew in to personally run up the score on a woman who had the nerve to raise her hand.

Walker is in good company. Assemblymember Sarah Clark mustered only a few votes from the IDC in her first run. I couldn’t even get a second for my nomination for reelection.

The old boys club loves sending a message to women who won’t do what they’re told by way of public humiliation.

But the party endorsement isn’t binding. Peter Wehner’s departure triggered a state-mandated appointment process. Before Wehner even made his move public, Trevas had already started working the phones and soon resigned his IDC leadership post.

What happened Monday was a show of force, not a mandate. A 109-29 vote in a rigged room the machine controls tells you about the machine. It tells you nothing about how Irondequoit Democrats as a whole would vote.

Trevas1 would be the second appointment in weeks made at the direction of Morelle and Bello. The first was Steve Barz, who runs Bello’s communications department. If Trevas is appointed, the board will be four men and one woman. Men with connections moved to the front of the line before women knew there was a line.

I hope Walker primaries Trevas for the role, even though she was not endorsed and may not be appointed. She is an accomplished professional in climate and sustainability — exactly the kind of independent, credentialed voice local government needs. Running is a deeply personal decision, especially in a race where the Morelle machine will pull out all the stops to stop you. But endorsements only go so far with voters, who would quickly see Walker is perfect for the role.

Here’s what’s at stake: when you elect people beholden to political bosses, you don’t get representatives — you get employees. They prioritize paying their mortgage over doing what’s right for residents. Oversight collapses. Your government stops being yours.

The Irondequoit Town Council has the power to make a different choice. Appoint Kathryn Walker. Choose qualification over connection, representation over machine politics, and constituents over patrons.

Because I have a strong feeling Walker is going to end up on that board, anyway.

Update: I added a footnote to respond to some questions I received about whether phone revenue is considered commissary revenue under state regulations. RB 3/6/6

Last May, I wrote about how Monroe County took away free phone calls at the jail. Advocates had fought hard to win 75 minutes of free weekly calls in 2021 — a policy that acknowledged what research shows: staying connected to family reduces recidivism and helps people successfully return to their communities. The Legislature voted to end it, approving a new Securus contract submitted as a “Matter of Urgency” just one day before the vote, bypassing the committee process entirely. Only two other legislators joined me in voting no.

The administration's argument was that the inmate trust fund — money generated from commissions on phone calls and tablet services paid by incarcerated people and their families — couldn't sustain free calls. The fund still held $1.9 million. New federal regulations had eliminated the ability to profit from phone calls, which did change the revenue picture. But the jail continues to collect commissions on tablet services — emails, texts, and digital content — generating roughly $2,790 a month under the new contract. That revenue alone could sustain a limited number of free calls without touching the existing balance. We were told even that wasn't enough.

I’ve been asking for a list of trust fund expenditures since last spring. I asked again in the fall. I asked again in recent days. This week I finally received a response.1

The list raises serious questions about how this fund is being spent — and whether the Legislature was given the full picture when it voted on free calls. New York State law requires that this fund be used solely for prisoner welfare and rehabilitation.2 What I found suggests it has been used as something closer to a general operations account for the Sheriff’s Office, with no independent audit and no legislative oversight.

The Securus contract comes up for renewal again at the end of April. Before that vote, the Legislature — and the public — deserves answers.

Below is the letter I sent today to Sheriff Baxter. As you read the list of expenditures, think about who paid for them: families in our community that can least afford to do so. I’ll post any response I receive, and I will continue to follow this issue.

March 5, 2026

Dear Sheriff Baxter,

Thank you for providing the list of 2024 inmate trust fund expenditures in response to the Legislature’s inquiry. Having reviewed the document, I am writing to seek clarification regarding several expenditure categories that appear to raise questions about compliance with New York State law and regulations governing the permissible uses of inmate trust fund revenues.

Legal Framework

New York State 9 CRR-NY §7016.1(c) is unambiguous: profits from commissary sales and telephone commissions deposited into the inmate trust fund “shall be utilized only for the purposes of prisoner welfare and rehabilitation.”

Periodic auditing of commissary accounts by the county auditor is itself required under 9 CRR-NY §7016.1(d), and these accounts are subject to review by the New York State Commission of Correction. I am requesting clarification as to who currently performs this required audit function for Monroe County, and when it was last conducted.

Expenditures Requiring Explanation

The 2024 expenditure list reflects a total of $558,103.23. Within that total, several categories warrant explanation as to how they satisfy the prisoner welfare and rehabilitation standard:

1. Legal Services — Bond Schoeneck & King PLLC: $118,000 Bond Schoeneck & King is a management-side labor and employment, litigation, and municipal law firm. The firm does not maintain a criminal defense practice. Its engagement by the Sheriff’s Office therefore cannot relate to legal representation of incarcerated individuals and must involve institutional matters — such as a personnel investigation, workplace misconduct claim, employment dispute, or litigation defense. Legal services of this nature are institutional costs that would ordinarily be borne by the county’s general fund. I am requesting: (a) a description of the specific legal matter or matters for which Bond Schoeneck & King was retained, including whether this engagement involved a personnel investigation, workplace misconduct investigation, employment dispute, or other institutional matter; (b) the dates of service covered by each invoice; (c) copies of the invoices or billing statements; (d) any written work product, findings, or reports produced as a result of this engagement; (e) who authorized the use of trust fund money to pay for these services and under what policy; and (f) the specific legal or regulatory basis for treating outside counsel fees for an institutional matter as a prisoner welfare and rehabilitation expenditure.

2. Sheriff’s Uniforms and Accessories — United Uniform Distribution LLC: $244,635.00 Uniforms for Sheriff’s Office personnel are standard operational expenses. Notably, the 2012 Erie County Comptroller’s audit of that county’s Sheriff’s commissary and telephone funds explicitly classified uniform and clothing purchases for staff as unacceptable expenditures under 9 CRR-NY §7016.1 — expenses that “do not relate to inmate rehabilitation and welfare and should have been paid from the General Fund.” I am requesting the legal basis for funding deputy uniforms from the inmate trust fund rather than the county’s general operating budget.

3. GPS Tracking Devices — RELIALERT XC3 and SCRAM: $32,870.00 and $6,670.55, respectively. SCRAM stands for Secure Continuous Remote Alcohol Monitor and is a product designed exclusively for community supervision of individuals outside a correctional facility, used to monitor alcohol consumption among people on probation or parole. It is not a tool used inside a jail and has no connection to the welfare or rehabilitation of incarcerated individuals. I am requesting: (a) an explanation of how a community supervision alcohol monitoring device constitutes a prisoner welfare and rehabilitation expenditure under 9 CRR-NY §7016.1(c); (b) identification of the program or individuals for whom this device was purchased; and (c) the same information for the RELIALERT XC3 GPS tracking devices.

4. Conference Travel — Multiple deputies to NYTOA and CentralSquare conferences: $17,444.38 in combined registration fees, airfare, hotel, per diem, and travel fees for named Sheriff’s Office personnel. Professional development for Sheriff’s Office staff, while potentially valuable, is not self-evidently an inmate welfare expenditure. I am requesting the legal basis for funding staff conference attendance from this fund.

5. Bottled Water and Coolers — Crickler Vending: $27,699.05 This is a substantial sum for water delivery at a single facility. I am requesting a breakdown of this expenditure: how many coolers are in service, how many jugs are delivered per month, at what unit price, and what verification process exists to confirm delivery quantities. I am also requesting the most recent water quality testing results for the Monroe County Jail. If the tap water at the facility has been deemed not potable — which would be one explanation for an expenditure of this size — I am asking when that determination was made, whether it has been remediated, and whether incarcerated individuals have access to the bottled water being purchased with trust fund money or whether they are expected to use tap water. If the water is in fact potable, I am requesting an explanation of why nearly $28,000 in bottled water and cooler costs constitutes a prisoner welfare and rehabilitation expenditure under 9 CRR-NY §7016.1(c).

6. Radio Communications Consulting — Jeffrey W. Stacy: $3,166.25 The expenditure list reflects a November 2024 payment for consulting services. Records show Mr. Stacy has been retained under annually renewing contracts to provide public safety radio communications consulting for the Sheriff’s Office — work that includes researching replacement radios, performing coverage audits, and assisting with implementation planning. Each annual contract is structured not to exceed $20,000, the threshold for legislative approval. Radio infrastructure consulting is an operational technology expense for the Sheriff’s Office that has no apparent connection to prisoner welfare or rehabilitation. I am requesting: (a) the legal basis for treating radio communications consulting as a prisoner welfare and rehabilitation expenditure under 9 CRR-NY §7016.1(c); (b) copies of all contracts with Mr. Stacy paid wholly or partially from the trust fund; (c) the total amount paid to Mr. Stacy from the trust fund across all years; and (d) whether this amount is part of the $20,000 contract or in addition to the contract.

7. Office Furniture and Supplies — Intivity, Inc.: $19,200.70 and W.B. Mason Company Inc.: $919.21 Office furniture and supplies are institutional operating expenses. The 2012 Erie County Comptroller’s audit explicitly classified office supply and furniture purchases as unacceptable expenditures under 9 CRR-NY §7016.1(c). I am requesting: (a) a description of what was purchased and where it was installed or deployed; (b) the legal basis for treating office furniture and supplies as a prisoner welfare and rehabilitation expenditure; and (c) whether this purchase was subject to competitive bidding.

8. Automated Vehicle Control Systems — BER National Automation Inc.: $5,750 BER National Automation specializes in automated vehicle control systems. Vehicle or fleet infrastructure is an operational expense for the Sheriff’s Office. I am requesting: (a) a description of what was purchased and what vehicle or system it was installed on; and (b) the legal basis for treating automated vehicle systems as a prisoner welfare and rehabilitation expenditure under 9 CRR-NY §7016.1(c).

9. Scissor Lift — Alta Construction Equipment: $19,766.00. A scissor lift is a piece of maintenance and facilities equipment used for elevated work access. This is an operational facilities expense. The 2012 Erie County Comptroller’s audit classified equipment of this nature as unacceptable under 9 CRR-NY §7016.1(c). I am requesting the legal basis for purchasing maintenance equipment from the inmate trust fund rather than the county’s general operating budget.

10. Power Tools and Equipment — Grainger: $17,317.26. The expenditure list reflects purchases of Milwaukee-brand cordless tools, batteries, and battery chargers. Power tools and related equipment are facilities maintenance supplies. The 2012 Erie County Comptroller’s audit classified equipment and maintenance supplies of this nature as unacceptable expenditures under 9 CRR-NY §7016.1(c). I am requesting the legal basis for purchasing power tools and equipment from the inmate trust fund rather than the county’s general operating budget.

11. Work Lighting — Grainger: $1,134.81. The expenditure list reflects purchases of cordless tripod work lights. Work lighting is a facilities maintenance supply with no apparent connection to prisoner welfare or rehabilitation. I am requesting the legal basis for treating this expenditure as permissible under 9 CRR-NY §7016.1(c).

12. Currency Counter — SRS Systems Inc.: $2,875.00. The expenditure list reflects a purchase described as a “Kisan Newton A Currency” counter — a device used to count and verify cash. A currency counting machine is an institutional operations purchase for the Sheriff’s Office. I am requesting: (a) a description of where this device is used and for what purpose; and (b) the legal basis for treating a cash counting machine as a prisoner welfare and rehabilitation expenditure under 9 CRR-NY §7016.1(c).

When the Legislature considered the Securus contract extension last year, the Sheriff’s Office indicated that the trust fund balance and ongoing revenue were insufficient to sustain free phone calls for incarcerated individuals. The fund balance — and the risk of depleting it — was a central argument presented to legislators against restoring any free calls.

It is difficult to reconcile that argument with the above expenditures — costs that, under any ordinary reading of 9 CRR-NY §7016.1(c), should appear in the county’s general fund budget and be subject to legislative appropriation. Had those costs been properly funded through the general fund, the trust fund balance would have been materially higher at the time the Securus contract was debated.

Requests

I am respectfully requesting written responses to the following:

1. For each expenditure category identified above, please provide the specific legal or regulatory basis for treating the expenditure as a permissible use of inmate trust fund revenues under 9 CRR-NY §7016.1(c).

2. Does the Monroe County Sheriff’s Office maintain a written policy defining permissible expenditures from the inmate trust fund? If so, please provide a copy.

3. What internal approval process governs expenditures from the trust fund?

4. Who performs the periodic audit of inmate trust fund accounts required under 9 CRR-NY §7016.1, and when was it last conducted? If no such audit has been performed, please explain why. If an audit has been conducted, please provide a copy of the most recent audit.

5. A list of 2025 expenditures from the inmate trust fund.

I am requesting a written response by April 1, 2026, as there is urgency to have this information before the legislature votes on the next jail phone and tablet contract. I intend to share this letter and any response with the full Legislature and, if warranted, with the New York State Commission of Correction.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Sincerely,

Rachel Barnhart – Legislator District 173

Support Barnhart for County Legislature

Over the past week, Rochester City Court Judge Van White has become the focus of an intense public campaign. County Executive Adam Bello has given multiple interviews describing White’s rulings as a “miscarriage of justice.” News stories have repeated the same framing: a judge is releasing dangerous domestic violence defendants, and the community is at risk.

That narrative is powerful. It is also convenient. And incomplete.

Here’s what concerns me:

Anecdotes are not evidence.

Judge White handles hundreds of cases. The public case against him rests on a small handful of emotionally charged examples. In a city with well-documented racial inequities in policing and incarceration, publicly singling out a Black judge on the City Court bench based on a limited number of discretionary rulings has serious implications.

If we are going to have a legitimate conversation about his record, it should be grounded in data — reviewing all domestic violence cases over a defined period, examining what discretion existed, what the District Attorney requested, and how his outcomes compare to other judges. A pattern is a finding supported by comprehensive review — not a conclusion drawn from a handful of anecdotes.

We are treating the Constitution as optional.

The Constitution does not permit the government to deprive a person of liberty without due process of law — notice, a hearing, and an impartial decision-maker. Judges cannot jail people to satisfy public anger. They are required to apply the law as written, based on the facts presented in court.

Setting bail doesn’t solve the problem.

One of the central arguments being made is that Judge White should have set bail — and that by not doing so, he created a public safety risk. That claim deserves scrutiny.

Under New York law, bail is not supposed to function as punishment or preventive detention. Its primary purpose is to ensure a defendant returns to court. Judges are not legally permitted to set bail simply because an incident is disturbing.

This fact almost always gets lost in the public debate: setting bail does not automatically mean someone stays in jail. If a defendant can post the amount set, they are released.

If we truly care about the safety of domestic violence victims, we should be honest about what bail can and cannot do. Bail is a financial condition of release. It is not a long-term safety plan.

The cases being cited don’t all support the narrative.

The Nanna case. Oritsegbegbemi Nanna was arrested Feb. 6 for choking a woman, a misdemeanor. White released him under probation supervision and issued an order of protection. Hours later, Nanna violated the order. White then approved an arrest warrant for criminal contempt. Nanna was arrested Feb. 24, allegedly fought officers and injured one, and was arraigned again before White, who released him on GPS home monitoring.

Were both releases a mistake? Possibly. And that is a fair question. But we do not know what the District Attorney requested, Nanna’s history or the evidence before the judge. Nanna has not had any GPS violations since the second arrest.

The Smith case. Ondre Smith, 19, was charged with shooting at a home where his ex-girlfriend was inside. The DA recommended $25,000 bail. White instead released him on electronic monitoring — a discretionary decision, and one reasonable people can debate.

Smith later had GPS violations and was released again. That release became a centerpiece of the public criticism.

What has received far less attention is that the second release was not White’s choice, but mandated by Criminal Procedure Law §180.80. If the prosecution does not proceed with a preliminary hearing within 120 hours of arrest — or 144 hours if the deadline falls on a weekend — the defendant must be released. The defense attorney explained this clearly.

If that deadline lapsed, that is prosecutorial failure, not judicial leniency. Yet the public narrative focused solely on the judge.

The Scott case. This case has not been reported in the news, but was highlighted by Adam Bello on social media. Christian Scott was arrested Feb. 26 for a menacing incident involving a gun and was released by White under probation supervision. Scott was already on probation for a prior weapons conviction. Monroe County Probation identified the violation and brought it before a different judge, who ordered Scott held.

Even if bail had been set and posted, probation would still have had to initiate a violation proceeding. The system ultimately functioned as designed: probation identified the violation, and a judge ordered detention.

So what do we have here? In one case, White’s discretionary decision can reasonably be questioned. In one case, release appears to have been legally required. In one case, the ultimate outcome likely would have been the same regardless of the initial release decision.

If supervision failed to prevent reoffending, that deserves scrutiny as well. Yet the outrage has been directed almost exclusively at one judge. If we are serious about accountability, it cannot stop at the courtroom door.

This is not a demonstrated pattern of reckless disregard for public safety. It is a set of case-specific decisions operating within a broader pretrial system that includes police, prosecutors, probation, statutory deadlines, and supervision capacity.

The attacks on Judge White are part of a political campaign.

These attacks are unfolding in the middle of a sustained political campaign around bail reform — one that often suggests judges are releasing dangerous people because Democratic lawmakers “forced” them to do so, even in cases where bail was legally available.

Adam Bello’s close political ally, Sheriff Todd Baxter, has amplified the same narrative through the Consortium for Safe Communities, a group he founded to push a more punitive approach to pretrial detention and public safety messaging.

It is also significant that one of the most vocal public critics of Judge White has been Rochester Police Captain Greg Bello, the brother of the county executive. When a police captain uses his official position to publicly criticize a sitting judge while the county executive, his brother, leads a parallel media campaign, the line between law enforcement commentary and political messaging becomes blurred. The public deserves clear disclosure of that relationship in coverage. City leadership should also examine whether using a police badge in this way is appropriate.

Attacking Judge White isn’t helping victims of domestic violence.

Survivors deserve a system that functions effectively, not one that substitutes outrage for analysis while structural problems remain untouched.

I have raised concerns about electronic monitoring and whether judges are fully informed of its limitations. I have spoken with advocates trying to find shelter for women fleeing abuse, only to learn beds are full. I deeply appreciate Willow Domestic Violence Center for its leadership and systems-level approach to safety. Those are the conversations — about resources, coordination, supervision, and follow-through — that actually make women safer. Public pressure campaigns directed at individual judges do not substitute for that work.

Judicial decisions should be reviewed and, where appropriate, criticized. But there is a difference between oversight and public pressure. This is not the first time Adam Bello has publicly targeted a sitting judge over case-specific rulings. Judicial independence exists for a reason. When elected officials use their platforms to publicly condemn judges who are ethically prohibited from responding, it undermines the integrity of our court system.

Domestic violence is a serious and ongoing crisis in Rochester. Addressing it requires sustained investment in survivor services, coordinated community response, prosecutorial accountability, and judicial decision-making that is transparent and consistent. What it does not require is turning individual cases into political theater.

If Judge White’s record warrants criticism, it should be based on comprehensive review and comparative data. That is accountability. Anything less is something else.

Bill Moehle is a party man through and through.

That’s why he dropped out of the race for Brighton Town Supervisor.

The longtime incumbent was not endorsed1 by the Brighton Democratic Committee — a death knell for someone who preached party unity and strict adherence to party endorsements. He and his wife, the leader of the committee, worked diligently to shape that committee into a body aligned with their politics.

Moehle was a loyal foot soldier, rarely bucking the establishment. He supported party leadership even when, I suspect, he may have harbored doubts. He did not publicly challenge the Conservative Party’s growing influence around County Executive Adam Bello. He did not speak out when Congressman Joe Morelle cast a vote thanking ICE, even as Moehle himself attends anti-ICE rallies.

And in the end, the same machine he defended left him to fend for himself.

The tragedy isn’t that Bill Moehle lost an endorsement. It’s that he built a political culture in which the endorsement was everything.

In a narrow vote, the Brighton Democratic Committee endorsed Nate Salzman.

A sizable anti-establishment contingent now holds seats, largely because Robin and Nick Wilt have methodically run challengers in committee primaries and built their own base inside the party structure. This cycle, the Wilts backed Salzman — and that sealed Bill’s fate.2

My commentary isn’t about why Moehle was cast aside. I don’t pretend to have insight into day-to-day Brighton politics.

I do know this: Salzman is hardly an outsider. He works for County Executive Adam Bello at Monroe County. I’ve heard — and I want to be clear that it’s only what I’ve heard — that Bello and Congressman Joe Morelle threatened his job if he didn’t back down. I don’t know if that’s true. But it’s believable, because that’s how power is often exercised here.

And I also know this: if Salzman were a woman and Bello and Morelle truly didn’t want her to run, the backlash would not have been subtle. There would have been ostracism. Threats to livelihood. Smears. Everyone would suddenly remember how much they value their invitations, their appointments, their paychecks.

So forgive me if I’m skeptical of the tidy narrative that Salzman is some upstart who effortlessly toppled a stalwart of the establishment.

What frustrates me is how quickly this will be spun as proof that the designation process “worked.” In reality, designation only carries the power we collectively agree to give it. When candidates refuse to take their case to voters in a primary, it becomes self-fulfilling.

Party endorsement is not destiny. It is often not predictive of primary outcomes. Even in Brighton — where the committee may be more representative than most — it is still a small subset of voters making a preliminary choice. The electorate gets the final word.

History makes that clear.

In Rochester, Bill Johnson, Bob Duffy, Lovely Warren, and Malik Evans all won their first mayoral races without the party’s endorsement. Voters made their own decision.

In 2020, Assemblymembers Harry Bronson, Sarah Clark and Demond Meeks were not endorsed by the party committee. They won handily.

In 2023, only one of six county legislative primaries was won by the officially endorsed candidate.3

I’ve only been endorsed once in my three wins.

In my most recent race, the Irondequoit Democratic Committee wouldn’t even consider my candidacy. The man who stood up to nominate me couldn’t get a second. That’s how tightly controlled the process was.

I went on to win 66% of the vote in Irondequoit.

That margin exposed the gap between the committee and the voters it claims to represent. The IDC is stacked with family members, friends, and employees aligned with Morelle and Bello.

In 2024, I recruited people to run for IDC seats. Not enough to flip outcomes — but to start building representation. Morelle and Bello responded by spending thousands of dollars to defeat them. They ran phone campaigns smearing their own neighbors, telling voters these candidates weren’t even Irondequoit residents.4

They were.

I cannot again, in good conscience, ask decent people who simply want to serve on a local Democratic committee to walk into a scorched-earth campaign orchestrated by their own congressman.

That said, I am proud of the work I did to make my previous district, LD 21, more reflective of the voters who live there. I did the same on the city side of my new district, LD 17. When more people participate, when more voices are welcomed in, the committee process can be a meaningful expression of grassroots democracy. I believe that.

And it’s that belief that drives me to keep going, even without the blessing of the committee. I know I won’t be endorsed next year when I run again, though I will respectfully ask for support. The IDC controls the designation, and the outcome is predictable. And that’s okay.

To me, the Democratic Party is not the committee. It’s the voters. It’s their support that matters in the end.

But for Moehle — who enforced party discipline for years — bucking the committee and forcing a primary, even one he could very well win, is not what party loyalists do. You don’t spend a career insisting the endorsement is sacred and then suddenly declare it optional when it’s denied to you.

He was undone by the very system he helped protect.

The leopard ate its own face.

As a friend texted me yesterday, “I can completely understand that someone who treats the Democratic committee as their religion would be unable to see a path to victory without it — even if that belief isn’t rooted in reality.”

The gatekeeper found himself standing outside the very gate he had guarded for years. He could have put his foot in the door and let the people decide. Instead, he stepped back inside and closed it behind him.

The “Matter of Urgency” popped up in my email at 11:27 a.m. on Tuesday — legislation for a potentially 30-year deal on naming rights for the Monroe County-owned baseball stadium, most recently known as Innovative Field. We had to vote that evening to authorize the County Executive to enter into a contract with ESL Federal Credit Union and Rochester Community Baseball, owner of the Red Wings.

Legislators got a heads-up Monday morning that an MOU was coming, to be provided after Tuesday’s 10 a.m. press conference announcing the partnership. I wasn’t told the sponsor’s name, only that the deal was for 10 years “with no outs.”

I was already furious. Withholding legislation until after a public relations event shows enormous disrespect for legislative oversight. But when I saw the deal could actually run 30 years, my anger turned to alarm. This decision had massive implications, and I had six and a half hours to analyze it before having to vote.

I had a packed workday. During lunch, I built spreadsheets calculating what the county would receive: $550,000 the first year with 2% compounded annual increases. After 10 years, ESL has the option to renew for up to four additional five-year periods.

I called and texted colleagues with finance and business expertise. I wrote down a slew of questions. And I felt a pit in my stomach when I realized I might have to cast the only “no” vote.

Here’s why.

We Hadn’t Seen the Deal

Each piece of legislation is referred to as a “resolution.” Each resolution comes with a letter from the County Executive explaining the proposal. The naming rights letter spelled out the terms I detailed above—and no more.

It did not include termination provisions, performance requirements, or what happens if either party wants out. It didn’t specify who controls those four five-year extension options — just that they exist.

Legislators asked questions during the meeting to flesh out details, but there’s no time to process answers, do the math, or follow up with informed questions.1 You don’t know what to ask about provisions you haven’t seen.

Worse, the resolution contained nothing binding the administration to the terms in that letter. This is all it said:

That’s a blank check. That’s blind trust. That’s authorizing the County Executive to negotiate and sign a potential 30-year deal with whatever terms he chooses, including clauses we might never approve if we actually saw them.

I’m embarrassed to admit the legislature has voted on such blank checks before. But we shouldn’t. And we definitely shouldn’t for a potentially 30-year deal.

Taxpayers Bear All the Risk

The deal looks great upfront, as it’s significantly more than the previous sponsor’s $298,000 annually. But it loses value over time because 2% increases fall below typical inflation of 2.5% to 3%.

I could live with a 10-year deal at 2%. But by year 30, taxpayers lose $2 million compared to just matching average inflation at 2.5%, more if inflation runs higher.2

We’d effectively be subsidizing ESL’s marketing budget with public money.

Worse, we’d be betting against Rochester’s future. We’re saying naming rights values won’t keep pace with inflation, downtown won’t experience a resurgence, and our economy won’t grow. If we’re wrong and Rochester thrives, ESL captures all that upside.

And here’s the kicker: at the end of 10 years, Monroe County can’t renegotiate. We learned during the meeting that ESL controls whether to renew, not us.

Some might say the security of guaranteed revenue is worth the tradeoff. But that’s a false choice. Our options aren’t “lock in ESL for 30 years” versus “no sponsor.” Our options are not “give up all leverage for three decades” versus “negotiate a fair deal that protects taxpayers if the market improves.”

Taxpayers are on the hook if the market improves, if ESL walks away, or if ESL defaults. As someone who covered sports facilities for 18 years in this town, I can tell you: things change and things go wrong.

One example: Last year when the previous naming rights expired, I pointed out that the AA Richmond Flying Squirrels announced they’re opening a new ballpark this year, in part to regain their AAA status and affiliate with the Washington Nationals, just two hours away. That could leave the Red Wings scrambling in 2031 when their affiliation with the Nats expires, as there are only so many AAA teams to go around.

WXXI reported that county officials said losing AAA status wouldn’t void the naming rights contract. But when I asked about this at the meeting, I was told it would void the contract.

So which is it? It would be nice to see the contract.

There Wasn’t Enough Time

I decided to vote no as we asked questions during the meeting. I was deeply uncomfortable with what I was hearing — and not hearing.

When I rose to explain my vote,3 the words came out before I’d fully planned them: “We don’t know what’s in this thing.”

In that moment, I realized I had no choice but to vote my conscience.

How irresponsible to ask legislators to approve something with so little detail and so little runway. But several of my colleagues had attended the morning press conference — before seeing any details — and had already publicly celebrated the deal. They were locked in.

I do believe my concerns tempered what would normally have been unanimous, flowery speeches. One colleague even said during her remarks that I’m “passionate and right.”

But it would take a political earthquake for legislators to publicly reject a reputable nonprofit credit union and a beloved sports team on the same day both were celebrated at a press conference. No one wants that risk.

In a functional legislature, we would have tabled the measure, demanded to see the actual contract, and proceeded with informed amendments or approval.

Instead, I cast the lone “no” vote.

I’m sure County Executive Bello will eventually send a mailer to my constituents claiming I hate the Red Wings and tried to deny them revenue. I don’t think people will believe that. But I decided the political capital was worth spending to vote my conscience and stand up for basic governance standards.

Someone has to.

Over the past few years as a Monroe County legislator, I’ve voted to approve millions in public funding for the Complex Care program. What began as one component of a broader, temporary effort has evolved into a standing subsidy to nursing homes — a shift that was never clearly presented as such, and that carries no defined end date.

Since 2022, Monroe County has allocated $6.5 million in federal American Rescue Plan Act (ARPA) dollars for the Complex Care initiative. In total, more than $10 million in combined state and ARPA money has already flowed to 12 nursing home systems. And on Tuesday, we’re voting to accept a $15 million state grant — $9 million of which will continue funding these payments.

Let’s start with the origin of this project. Finger Lakes Performing Provider System (FLPPS) applied for ARPA funding in 2022 for one integrated initiative: Transformational Community Care Coordination, or TC3. In FLPPS’s application and budget, TC3 was a single, comprehensive program with two major components — workforce development and complex‑care incentives.

TC3 sought to solve a big problem: hospitals have patients who are medically ready for discharge but need skilled nursing care. Nursing homes don’t want to accept these patients because of low reimbursement rates and staffing shortages. Without somewhere to go, these patients remain hospitalized, occupying beds that could be used for patients who actually need hospital‑level care.

When the County awarded the ARPA funding, however, it split that unified proposal into two separate ARPA grants to FLPPS: one labeled “TC3” and the other labeled “Complex Care.”

Despite that split, the County continued to describe the programs interchangeably. The July 2025 ARPA annual report framed Complex Care using the same structure FLPPS outlined in its original application. The legislation approving additional ARPA transfers and the new state grant did the same, referring to Complex Care as part of TC3.

Given that framing, one could reasonably assume that “Complex Care” involved a range of discharge‑planning or care‑coordination activities — the kind of systems‑change work one expects when the word “transformational” is used.

But that is not how the program appears to have operated. The most recent funding requests — including the January request for stop‑gap funding to restart the program while awaiting the state grant — were the first time the County described Complex Care, in general terms, as providing “financial incentives” to nursing homes. That language had been notably absent from earlier materials, which referred to “block grants.”

After seeing this more forthright description, I asked for basic information. At the most recent Ways and Means hearing, I asked: How many patients have been placed? Where were they placed? How much has each facility received? What materials were provided to the state to justify $15 million in new funding?

The administration supplied two documents: a one‑page summary sent to state lawmakers and a slide deck dated February 5, 2026 — the day before it was forwarded to the Legislature. It’s hard to believe those few pages contained the entire justification for a $15 million state grant.

From those materials, we know the program has spent approximately $10.6 million on payments to 12 nursing home systems — roughly half from state funding, half from ARPA dollars. As for outcomes, a single page from the state funding request claims the program placed 535 patients, opened 169 beds, and reduced the share of licensed but unstaffed beds from 25 percent to 19 percent. The materials do not indicate whether those results were sustained over time.

Most importantly: the state funding request characterizes this as an “ongoing expense request” with no project timeline. This is not a bridge program. This is not a temporary COVID response. It is a permanent subsidy to compensate nursing homes for inadequate Medicaid reimbursement rates — a policy choice that was never clearly presented to the Legislature or the public as such.

The new $15 million state grant, of which $9 million will be used for Complex Care, allocates $1 million for “prevention,” though nothing in the materials explains what that funding will support or how it relates to the incentive payments. Another $1.5 million to $2.5 million is set aside for “data, evaluation, technology, program management, and administration” — a wide range that suggests the details are still being developed. The administration has indicated this work will focus on making the program sustainable, but has not specified what that would entail.

The workforce development component continues, but it has not yet reduced the need for incentive payments, suggesting the payments have become the permanent solution instead of a temporary bridge.

None of this means the program is unnecessary. Hospitals genuinely need a way to discharge complex patients, and nursing homes are operating under real financial constraints. But if Monroe County is going to permanently subsidize skilled nursing placements — and the state funding request makes it clear that is the goal— then that decision deserves transparent debate and rigorous oversight.

At minimum we should have clear information about what outcomes we are buying, how those outcomes will be measured over time, and what standards nursing homes must meet to continue receiving payments. We should know whether hospital capacity pressures are being reduced in a sustained way, whether the beds opened during the pilot remained open, and whether this incentive structure performs better than alternative approaches.

I don’t think this is bad policy in the abstract. I think it may be the only workable option under current constraints. But if we’re going to make this choice — a permanent public subsidy to compensate for inadequate Medicaid reimbursement — we need to tell the public exactly what we’re doing. That hasn’t happened.

Bello Administration Represented at the Conservative Party Dinner

On the same day Democrats gathered in Syracuse to re-nominate Governor Kathy Hochul and President Trump posted a racist video comparing the Obamas to apes, prominent Democrats and members of the Bello administration thought it was appropriate to attend the Conservative Party dinner.

Right-wing GOP gubernatorial candidate Bruce Blakeman was the keynote speaker at last night’s event.

Based on photos and texts from two people present, I got the scoop on who was there. They included Jeff McCann, the Greece Town Supervisor and former deputy county executive under Adam Bello. McCann, a Democrat who also ran on the Conservative Party line in November, purchased an entire table, despite not needing the Conservative line to win his race.

Also present were Molly Clifford, a former Bello spokesperson who now works for McCann; Andy Moore, the county’s airport director; Anthony Plonczynski-Figueroa, an assistant county executive; and Matthew Schwartz, the county attorney and a registered member of the Conservative Party.

I’m disappointed that District Attorney Brian Green, a Democrat, was present, though word has it he won’t accept the Conservative Party endorsement in order to avoid a Democratic primary. Mr. Green, take some advice: cozying up to Conservatives could earn you a primary, anyway.

I’ve written at length about the damage done when Democrats help legitimize and sustain the Conservative Party. The decision by Democratic officials and senior members of the Bello administration to attend this event is not benign, bipartisan outreach. It is a choice to bolster a party that supports Trump’s dangerous, authoritarian agenda.

Rochester Beacon Op-Ed

Check out this op-ed I wrote for the Rochester Beacon about the recent Airbnb controversy.

The tragic and disturbing scenes unfolding in Minneapolis should frighten all of us. Through ICE, Trump has assembled a paramilitary force that can terrorize residents and kill with impunity. Masked agents shatter car windows, break down doors and drag people out of their homes and workplaces. They arrest first and ask questions later. No one is spared, not even U.S. citizens. M. Gessen called the campaign “state terror” in her New York Times column today.

As Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey said, “It should alarm every American because if it can happen here, it can happen anywhere.”

The siege of Minneapolis poses urgent questions for local officials across the country. How do you prepare for an occupation?

Is there an overall plan if ICE surges in Monroe County?

Large-scale federal enforcement operations do not leave time for ad-hoc decision-making. Monroe County needs a clear, pre-established plan that defines roles and responsibilities across local law enforcement, county agencies, emergency services, and the district attorney’s office before federal agents arrive. Crucially, that plan must start from a clear premise: local government is not an extension of federal immigration enforcement. Without an explicit framework that prioritizes non-cooperation, authority fragments, accountability evaporates, and harm becomes more likely.

What is the role of local police — and what is explicitly off-limits?

Each department needs clear, written policies for different scenarios. For example: what happens when residents call 911 terrified that masked agents are breaking down a neighbor’s door? Local police may be needed to address genuine public safety concerns — traffic, medical emergencies, crowd safety. But sanctuary policies that prohibit direct cooperation often still permit “support” roles — crowd control, perimeter security, traffic management — that functionally enable ICE operations. Local officials should be explicit about what police will not do, not just what they might do, and how those limits will be enforced in real time.

If a federal agent seriously injures or kills someone, who controls the scene — and who asserts jurisdiction?

Will local law enforcement preserve the scene as they would any other homicide, securing evidence and witnesses? Or will federal agencies control access, remove evidence, and dictate the investigative timeline? If a federal agent commits an act that would otherwise be charged under state law, will the district attorney assert independent jurisdiction — or defer automatically to federal authorities?

What protections are in place for peaceful protesters?

What specific instructions are given to local police to protect lawful assembly — particularly if federal agents use aggressive tactics that escalate tension? Police must understand that protecting protesters from harm is not the same as protecting federal operations from protest.

What legal and medical support systems are pre-positioned?

Are emergency medical services prepared for injuries linked to enforcement actions? Are civil rights monitors and legal observers able to operate without interference? Or will the city improvise after arrests are made and people are hurt?

Will local leaders at least try to protect us?

I worry there may never be a real plan to prepare for an ICE surge. You can’t plan around an occupation if you can’t agree whether the occupation itself is legitimate.

Many of our local leaders have been reluctant to criticize ICE or have remained silent altogether.1 Some appear to be in denial about what’s happening; others seem afraid of being labeled anti–law enforcement. We don’t even know which police agencies are collaborating with ICE. New York law places some limits on cooperation, but police can still call Border Patrol if they suspect someone is undocumented — and they do.

A plan presumes agreement on what actions are acceptable. I don’t believe that agreement exists among our local leaders — all Democrats — when it comes to ICE’s presence and tactics. And without that shared understanding, any “plan” will collapse the moment federal agents arrive.

It’s time for local leaders to pick a side and make a plan. Because as Radley Balko warns, “We need to be clear about what we’re facing. This is no longer a conversation about law enforcement or immigration policy. This is about authoritarianism.”