And He Would Be King

And He Would Be King

by Lisa Hummel

Yes, that is a tattoo of his family’s coat of arms peering up from his crisply starched suit collar. Yes, that is his luxury automobile, and, yes, that is the latest from rapper Jay-Z pumping through its elaborate speakers. He is a walking dichotomy, both rough and refined. He is at home on the toughest streets of Harrisburg; the love he feels for his neighbors, genuine.

He strives, on a daily basis, to conquer the “oppressed, self-pitying, thug” stereotype that so many city-dwellers carry in their minds. Yet he embraces with a kinetic energy the heritage and history that makes him the strong, role model of a citizen that he has become.

Enter: Eric Waters, fearless, insightful, and clearly driven.

Like his mind, Waters’ life is constantly moving. “Motion makes emotion,” he explains, justifying his non-stop approach to everything he touches. To understand him, one must understand this: Waters says what he believes. If nothing else, he is a man of his word.

In fact, he is a man of plenty words. A people’s man, Waters tailors his communication style for the conversation at hand. Words roll eloquently forth at the formal City functions, garnering attention and respect, yet a grittier but penetrating tone emerges as he addresses his students at Rowland School, where he stands as Assistant Principal.

A nuturer, Waters is at home “from the barbershops to the board rooms” and sees his position in society as such. When elected to City Council, he will gladly take part in City functions and events, but that seat will not take him away from a position he already holds: on a porch in Allison Hill, in a kitchen off Market Street. “I go into the ‘hood at 8 o’clock at night to make sure our babies are alright,” he said, with no trace of narcissism, “How many administrators do you know who do that?” Waters may be bold, he may speak louder than the rest, but he does nothing for the sake of show. He doesn’t have the time.

Waters grew up in Harrisburg, the son of an educator who ran for City Council some 20 years ago. Nate Waters was assisted in the election by a 22-year-old by the name of Stephen R. Reed, the current mayor of Harrisburg. The similarities between the two are obvious: both educators, both driven young black men, both running with the help of Reed, although this time the Waters name can be found on the same ticket as the Mayor’s. And while his father’s accomplishments make Eric proud, he is quick to point out that he is his own man, he has his own future, and he has become a peer of Reed’s on his own doing. “Some people say that I am what I am because my father gave me some hook up, but if you talk to my father he will tell you, there was no hook up,” he said. “My father raised me for excellence, to do what he’d done in half the time. So all I am is a new and improved version of what my father was years ago. All I’m doing is repeating a blue print that was in place many years ago, just with a millennium twist.”

After spending some time in Atlanta, Waters moved back to the area to begin his graduate studies. When he returned to Harrisburg he had no intention of staying. Now, he has no plans to leave. After five years as a teacher in the Harrisburg School District, Waters helmed the City’s night school program last year before becoming taking his current position. Dissatisfied with the public school education system, Waters became an educator in an effort to kill two birds with one stone: heal his personal frustrations with the antiquated system and connect with today’s youth. “I thought this would be my best way to reach out, specifically to young black males, and kind of lift them up. And that’s exactly what happened. It was amazing to me that, when I first started teaching on the high school level, some of the kids had never had a black male teacher. Not to say that all the years through you should have black males inundating you, but Jesus, can you get one? So a lot of kids, when they first met me, they didn’t think I was a teacher. I think a lot of it had to do with whatever aura I was giving off, but I think a lot of it was these kids have been programmed to think in some ways black men can’t do shit like that; black men can’t educate other people, black men can be educated, but we can’t educate others. Well, obviously, that was wrong, that was a myth, and I dispelled all of that.”

Waters enjoys dispelling myths and stereotypes, enjoys coming from behind the pack and leading the way. He enjoys the looks that the tattoos, loud music, and stylish clothes bring. He enjoys being the atypical politician, much more street than stuffy.

“All I’ve ever tried to do is kind of play upon the ‘young black male’ stereotype while at the same time dispel it through everything that I do,” said Waters. “It’s a total contrast and it baffles people.”

“I think in the beginning it was very frustrating because I felt I was by myself — I felt I was kind of spearheading a movement by myself — but, slowly but surely, over the last five to six years I’ve gathered more people, they’ve started feeling what I’m saying,” he continued. “Once you sit down and talk with me you realize I am an intellectual and that sells itself.”

Waters has, in some ways, become the area’s Pied Piper, gathering supporters one at a time. Talking to anyone who will listen, educating others in the hopes of learning something new himself. At the primary election earlier this year, he earned the number one spot out of 16 Democratic candidates, garnering over 300 more votes than the next closest contender, an impressive showing for a first time candidate.

Waters is entrenched in his ideas — how he could implement his “big city mentality” to the streets of Harrisburg, how he could be an adrenaline dose to the Mayor’s office, make changes to the infrastructure and encourage economic development, how he can utilize his position in the City and the School District to do great things for both — and, through it all, he keeps in mind his would be constituents, his supporting “crew” of twelve friends and confidants, the litany of black, white, young, and old, who repeatedly stop him on the street to share a word or a brotherly hug.

“God didn’t put me here to just sit back. God put me here to do more, be an agent for change, be a hero. And I accept the responsibility 110% and I’ll do whatever I can to do what is right by not only people, but to do what is right by everyone,” said Waters. “And I guess that is where the politics thing came in, that I’d almost outgrown my space in the public school arena, that I had to reach out to the community itself and what a better way than to run for public office?”

“People act like they are two different things,” Waters said, speaking of politics and education and his place in both. “That’s crazy, one thing drives the other. All I want to do is be a bridge, be a nexus, because there’s a gap in the bridge right now and things are falling through.”

Eric Waters sees and feels the life blood of Harrisburg. He knows how easy it is for a young mind to fall through the cracks and he’s hellbent on fixing what’s broken.

A noble endeavor, indeed.