Photography by Tony Lewis, Jr.
It’s a skill every politician needs and Steuart Pittman has mastered it. He can talk and eat salad at the same time. Halfway through his second term in office, on an early spring day—over lunch and other venues across several months—the Anne Arundel County Executive (CE) offered us unfettered access to his life, both inside and outside of politics. He even revealed a sneak preview of what might come next.
In the corner of his fourth floor Arundel Center office in Annapolis, mounted on the wall, is a painting of a large chestnut-colored horse. Bearing a white diamond that trails down his muzzle, the horse commands the room. It epitomizes much of Pittman’s life—from his upbringing on a farm, to his lifelong passion for animal welfare, to his work as a community organizer, to his entrance into politics.
Even the stallion’s name is emblematic of Pittman’s life and administration: “Salute the Truth.”
The Farm Boy
At six feet two, 185 pounds, Steuart Pittman is easy to spot in a crowd. Approachable and contemplative, the CE is very much the product of an unusual—if not privileged—upbringing, one that’s led him to the county’s highest office and offered a, sometimes, self-critical review. He grew up with one foot on the farm and one in the city.
The 550-acre farm in Davidsonville where his wife, two sons, two sisters, two nieces, and their families now live, has been in his family for generations. “I’m the eighth,” Pittman says. A Scottish ancestor, George Hume Steuart, came to America in 1745 and acquired the property in the 1740s. Somewhat of a scoundrel, says Pittman, Steuart served as mayor of Annapolis and lived in a house on the site of the current Governor’s Mansion.
Today, the farm, two-thirds of it woods, is not only home to the extended family, but also supports their varied interests. Pittman’s sister Polly, with a career in public health and husband Tom, a physician, oversee The Vineyards at Dodon. Pittman’s younger sister Romey leads a group of educators in establishing a charter school for special students. His daughter and 12 nieces all work in public service.
“My family bridges the gap between political service and interest in other fields,” Pittman says. “They’re all trying to change the world.”
His father, a lawyer, held several high-level positions with the federal government. While Pittman spent summers on the farm, he spent the school year in Washington, D.C., where he attended St. Albans. Moments of embarrassment hint at a certain shyness that still emerges: “It was all boys. Girls knew we didn’t know how to talk to them.”
Another youthful embarrassment came with four legs. “My first pony was Eric. My Mom called him ‘King Shit’ because he was so mean. I must have been 7 or 8. Every time I rode him, I fell off at least once. He had a way of dumping me.” But he got back up every time.
The Organizer
After earning a degree in political science and Latin American studies from the University of Chicago, Pittman worked for ACORN, the Association of Community Organizations for Reform Now. In Chicago and Iowa, he fed his interest in serving communities “where there was no investment,” addressing poverty, housing, open space, and agriculture. He also honed his political skills, helping to elect the mayor of Des Moines.
Ten years later he left ACORN because “I felt I wasn’t making enough of a difference. But I always had the feeling I would come back to that world.”
The equestrian world was also honing his skills. As President of the Maryland Horse Council, he was forced into public speaking. He taught others how to train horses. Self-confidence grew.
Pittman’s grassroots and marketing approach to problem-solving led to another effort. In 2010 he founded The Retired Racehorse Project, a 501© (3) nonprofit organization whose primary mission is to increase demand for thoroughbred ex-racehorses. The Project has given thousands of thoroughbreds second careers.
“As an organizer I was taught you never put yourself out front. You were always in the background. You put the leaders out front…And there also was a sense that being the politician was selling out. The best people were the organizers.”
At the time the farm business was successful, and he’d always thought “the Retired Racehorse Project would be what I was remembered for in my life.” But now there were staff who could run it. “I realized I could do something else. I’m not tied down.”
There was another sign. His beloved stallion, Salute the Truth, died after 22 years.
“He had sort of defined my career in many ways. I was the only person who could handle him. There was a sense after he died. it was like a signal that there were other things in my life I could do.”
Photography by Tony Lewis, Jr.
The Candidate
His entry into Anne Arundel County issues was, appropriately enough, through the Farm Bureau and the Soil Conservation District. Trying to influence “the County bureaucracy” was increasingly frustrating. Others felt the same. Unable to move county leadership, along with the 2016 presidential election, he began “to think.” Maybe he could help. After all, he had skills in community organizing. He could build a coalition with environmental advocates, women who had marched recently in Washington, public employees, and union members, all who wanted change.
He first considered running for County Council in District Seven. A campaign consultant questioned his chances of winning as a Democrat in a predominantly “red” district. It was a District 30 legislator who first encouraged him to consider the county executive race. At the time, Sarah Elfreth was a rising leader in the local Democratic Party running for state Senate. For two months Pittman weighed his decision. “My odds of winning seemed higher as county executive,” he says. Besides, the countywide race led him back to what he loved—community organizing.
“It was a little uncomfortable at first, because I was comfortable speaking in front of people when it was about a cause, other than me. But when you’re running for office, you can’t avoid that it is about you.”
On November 6, 2018, the front page of the Capital Gazette read “Pittman pulls off upset, beats Schuh for Anne Arundel Executive.” The article went on: “If there is one thing he wants to accomplish in four years, it is restoring peoples’ faith in government.” And in a nod to the theme of his upcoming administration, Pittman is quoted as saying “Anne Arundel County is going to be better than the best place to work, live, and start a business.”
The County Executive (CE)
Thirty men and women sit around squared tables in the basement of the Arundel Center. Jeff Amoros, the CE’s Chief of Staff, is front and center. Methodically, he goes ‘round the room and calls out key staffers to share updates.
This is the bimonthly meeting of Pittman’s staff, and the tempo is rapid-fire. Lots of events are planned, like River Days at the Maritime Museum and a day of service at Bacon Ridge.
Government Relations applauds passage of the Civil Rights legislation. The Equity and Human Rights leader calls it “a new era in Anne Arundel County.” A disparity study to test bias in housing is underway. The Resilience Authority is gaining national prominence. The mood in the room is light. Morale seems high. Comments are punctuated by laughter. Eyes often turn to the man next to Amoros who comments as they speak—with a light touch.
At first, one might wonder why the CE attends this meeting. His Chief of Staff has it under control. And surely the items mentioned are no surprise, nor of such consequence they need the Executive’s presence.
But comparisons with other leaders, other bosses, emerge. It’s the “walk the halls” style management. How just being there, present where your workers are, can solve or prevent so many problems.
He’s building trust with those he must entrust constituents’ needs.
Pittman prefers a flat organization: “I hate a filter.” He likes and enjoys healthy debate. “I love having smart people in the room challenging me, challenging each other.” He points to Budget Officer Chris Trumbauer. “a fierce protector,” and Chief Administrative Officer Christine Anderson, “a fierce woman.”
“I love seeing the two of them going at it. You gotta be pretty smart to survive here.” He is the last to speak. Crownsville is on his mind. He’s had a peak at the consultant’s preliminary plans which he can’t share yet. He reminds his team that they will likely not see it “come to fruition” during his last two years in office, but he clearly is enthused over its promise.
Photography by Tony Lewis, Jr.
Achievements
Modernizing County Government
Ask Pittman to name what he considers his top achievement, and he returns to “trust.” “Restoring trust in government in the ultimate goal, making it more effective and efficient, and making it possible to deliver for more people.” He aims for transparency wherever possible—whether it’s an open budgeting process within each councilmanic district or land use planning with nine stakeholder regions involving more citizens, including young people and renters, many for the first time.
Bond Rating
For only the second time in county history—and in a back-to-back achievement following last year—Anne Arundel County received a triple AAA bond rating from all three Wall Street rating agencies this year. Pittman admits budgeting is “the hardest part of the job,” and he credits budgeting and planning “in a responsible” way for the county’s impressive rating. He also notes the newly established Resilience Authority. “We are a jurisdiction with 530 miles of coastline. Bonding agencies also look to that.”
Crime Prevention
In the last five years Pittman has increased the level of sworn police officers from 700 to nearly 800 and funded major upgrades to crime-fighting technology. While social media and a 24-hour news cycle cause alarm, data show crime is down. Newly funded programs like “violence interruption” coupled with private initiatives like Man Up, Kingdom Cares, and Chase your Dreams put people to work within communities. Pittman credits the efforts of State’s Attorney Anne Colt Leitess in ensuring that “stuff doesn’t’ slip through the cracks.” Overall, he says, “This is a bad place to commit a crime.”
Crownsville
After Anne Arundel County acquired the 544-acre Crownsville State Hospital property from the State of Maryland in 2022, Pittman convened a 14-member advisory committee to study its future uses. One gets the sense that creating a “healing place” out of this former, segregated mental hospital—with its dark history immortalized in Antonia Hylton’s book “Madness”—is almost personal to him.
Janice Hayes-Williams affirms that it is. A local historian who studies blacks in Annapolis, she has spent more than 20 years trying to create the “Crownsville Hospital Memorial Park.”
Meeting Pittman during his first campaign, she knew she’d met an advocate.
“We talked about our roots, how long each of us has been in the county. His family was from the 1600s. Mine, just before the revolution.”
They discussed Crownsville: “He wanted to be part of it. He said, ‘Let’s go get it.’”
Pittman is pleased Crownsville is getting national attention. His goal is to create a center for healing after years of unspeakable abuse. He recently welcomed Bowie State University as one of several partners on the site. Hayes-Williams watches closely as these plans unfold. She is grateful for the CE’s strong support. “He’s my knight in shining armor, and I am right behind him with the spear.”
The Criticism
It is hard to find someone who doesn’t like Pittman for his honesty and transparency. But like any political figure, he is not without critics.
Just mention Riva Road. Speaking recently to a group of well-connected women in Annapolis, the CE was forced to defend the high-density development at Annapolis Town Center and its impending impact on traffic—including the 7-story parking structure that towers over Route 50.
Despite his efforts to explain that the 500 units of housing and commercial space are all part of the plan for the Town Center, he fails to convince his audience. And he knows it.
“I understand how people are terrified seeing big buildings go up, but I think the criticism is unjust,” he comments later. “Annapolis town center was designed to be a town center. Properties were paved over and not being used. Creating a walkable, livable place where people can live, work, and play was always the vision, and now it’s being created.”
Third District Republican Councilman Nathan Volke is one of his most vocal critics. He disagrees with the CE’s approach to development—and lots more. Taking office with Pittman six years ago, Volke faced his first argument over ending the immigration screening program. “I thought it was effective; he did not.”
Volke also fought against raising taxes that first year. And he is concerned with creating density in specific areas, like Pasadena, and around the county. “We agree that we both want to make Anne Arundel County the best it can be,” he says. “But we disagree fundamentally on what that should look like.”
Photography by Tony Lewis, Jr.
What’s Next
With two years remaining in his term, Pittman still has a long list of what he wants to accomplish. One of his biggest frustrations is insufficient funds. Federal dollars post-Covid are depleted.
He laments that he hasn’t done enough for affordable housing: “People who have a housing crisis don’t get heard.” He remains concerned about food insecurity for many residents. He wants to establish a small dollar and public financing program for candidates seeking county offices. And it’s all interrelated.
“It’s frustrating for me and my peers spending so much time with donors. I told my scheduler at the outset I wanted to spend time with people who don’t normally spend time with the CE…Having been out there [in food distribution lines]…now I get it.”
And, of course, there’s Crownsville. There are not many who don’t admire Pittman for his tenacity and his relentless pursuit of the truth. Even Volke admits, “I may think he’s misguided, but it is entirely him thinking the right thing to do.”
A bit of a soothsayer, Pittman has emerged from the last state and local elections as a kingmaker. While, so far, he has shunned future office for himself, he doesn’t shy away from backing others. The candidates he endorses win. He was the first county executive in Maryland to back Wes Moore for governor, an effort that’s paid off with a close friendship, and perhaps a future role.
The future also promises more writing. Introspective, a reader of history, and a man who just has a lot to say, Pittman has taken to writing weekly essays in the form of a letter emailed to some 50,000 followers. Transparency is obvious. Topics range from the county budgeting process to youth gun violence prevention, to why he attended the International Shopping Center conference in Las Vegas. There’s a book he’s pondering, but he needs the time.
And despite the upheaval in American politics and the threats to democracy, his reading of history inspires him. More sanguine than many in public office. Pittman is optimistic about the future of our county and our country.
“A big part of my job is to sell a vision, and to remind people of the value of government. Nothing is more important to me than leaving the body politic in a better position than when I came.”
