When we commemorate Juneteenth, we don’t just honor the delayed freedom of enslaved Africans in Galveston, Texas. We celebrate resilience, resistance, and the ongoing fight for equity and liberation in Black communities across the country.
In Baltimore, that spirit of liberation is alive in a mayor who is not only reshaping his city but also reshaping what Black leadership looks like in America.
When Brandon Maurice Scott was elected Mayor of Baltimore in 2020, he didn’t just make history; he made a commitment. A son of Park Heights, a product of the city’s schools, and a survivor of its roughest years, Scott walked into City Hall with more than just talking points; he brought plans and lived experience.
“Growing up in the ’80s, ’90s, and early 2000s in Park Heights, it was heaven and hell at the same time,” Scott shared during his interview with The Quintessential Gentleman. “The first time I saw someone get shot, I wasn’t even seven. And no one really cared.”
That raw reality shaped him early. It was his mother, trying to quiet a child too young to make sense of injustice, who unknowingly lit the spark: “She said, ‘If you want it to change, you gotta change it yourself.’”
So, he did.
The Youngest to Ever Do It
When Scott was elected at 36 years old, he became the youngest mayor in Baltimore’s history and one of the youngest mayors in the country.
But his path to that moment wasn’t smooth. He ran during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic against two former mayors, navigating a campaign constantly disrupted by public health chaos and political infighting.
“The election got moved multiple times. 20 people were running in the race. I’m running against two other mayors…Mayor Young and former Mayor Dixon,” he said. “That was a dog fight… But I didn’t get into this to stay comfortable. I got into this for the city. And the city was worth fighting for.”
That fight didn’t stop with the election. From day one, Mayor Scott walked into a city in crisis, racked by gun violence, struggling with COVID, and burdened with a legacy of systemic neglect.
“I’ve been in City Hall since 2007. I’ve seen all the things. I knew that we had to have a comprehensive approach. I knew that that was gonna be unpopular.”
At just 40 years old and serving his second term, he became the city’s first mayor in two decades to be reelected. Under his leadership, Baltimore has seen a decrease in gun violence and overall crime in the city.
From Most Dangerous to Most Determined
The results of Scott’s intentional execution speak volumes. Baltimore recorded its lowest monthly homicide total since records began in 1970. The city saw a more than 20% year-over-year drop in homicides, and for the first time in over a decade, Baltimore is no longer ranked among America’s most dangerous cities.
“I had to lay the vision,” Scott says when asked how he did it. “For me, it’s different when you’ve lost people. It’s different when you had to duck bullets.”
That vision became the city’s first-ever comprehensive violence prevention plan, which includes a Group Violence Reduction Strategy targeting individuals most likely to be involved in violence.
“Through data and real, live information, we go to those people,” Scott explained. “They get a letter from me: ‘I know who you are. I want you to live. But the only way you can do that is if you change what you do. We’ll give you the help: housing, education, mental health, whatever you need; relocation, whatever you need, take it.’”
Scott also invested historic funding into community violence intervention, expanded partnerships with federal prosecutors, and even sued ghost gun manufacturers operating in Baltimore.
This wasn’t just policy, it was personal.
“It’s different when you had the gun in your face. It’s different when you’ve been sat down in handcuffs multiple times just because you were breathing while Black in your neighborhood.”
A Black Man Leading with Intention
Scott’s story is also one of representation, what it means to be a Black man, not just surviving Baltimore, but leading it. And not from a distance, but from the very neighborhoods many politicians only visit during campaign season.
“You’re the first mayor to ever have to live through all this s***,” a mentor once told him. “And I thought about that. He’s right. Either they were white, so their reality is not the same reality. Even some of the ones who were African-American, they were older or they lived in different neighborhoods.” Scott explained.
That difference isn’t lost on the young men watching him now.
Scott recalls being 10 years old when he met Congressman Kweisi Mfume at a football game. “He looked at me and said, ‘They tell me you want to be mayor one day…You can do whatever you want to do. No one can stop you from being what you want to be, but you.’ That changed my life.”
His very presence in City Hall is radical. A Black man with an afro from West Baltimore, Scott defies every stereotype about who belongs in power, and he doesn’t bend to respectability politics.
He leads with authenticity, prioritizes mental health, and speaks to young Black boys in a language they understand.
The Fatherhood Factor
During his first term, Scott’s life shifted. He went from being unmarried with no kids to becoming a husband to Hana and a father of three—Ceron, Charm, and Camden.
“Zero to 50-11 real quick,” he jokes. But the transformation was more than personal; it was grounding.
“I have this whole other side of life that keeps me balanced, that allows me to focus on other things, that allows me to take beats that I would never be able to take, but also to have a deeper investment on why I need everything to be going in the right direction,” Scott shares.
Fatherhood didn’t slow him down; it anchored him.
And on Juneteenth, when we speak about reclaiming joy and identity, his journey from city council member to mayor to family man exemplifies the broader truth: Black men deserve to be full humans. Not just leaders, but nurturers. Not just statistics, but storytellers.
Building Baltimore’s Renaissance
Ask Scott about his legacy, and he’ll tell you it’s about restoration, not just reform.
“I want Baltimore to be its best self. But that to me means that we continue to have this reduction of violence that we have, that we tackle things like this historic plan that we have,” he details.
“We grow the city but we do that without losing our culture, without losing our Blackness, and continue to allow Black businesses to move here and thrive, Black people, renters to become homeowners, every Black child here to be able to have the educational opportunities to allow them to be the best version of themselves.”
He’s already launched a $3 billion plan to eliminate vacant housing over the next 15 years and continues to double down on youth investment, educational equity, and infrastructure renewal.
“I want Baltimore to have the renaissance that we’re currently having,” Scott shares.
A Call to Wakanda
As our conversation wrapped, Scott turned directly to the camera with a PSA for Black folks across the country:
“To all the Black people. Everybody that’s being looked down and pushed down upon, especially those who live in those states below Maryland, come to Wakanda. Move to Maryland. Move to Baltimore. This is your personal invitation.”
Juneteenth reminds us of the power in reclaiming space, rewriting stories, and remembering who we are. And in Mayor Brandon Scott, Baltimore has a leader who’s doing all three.
He’s not just building a better Baltimore; he’s building a blueprint for Black liberation in real time.
Editor-in-Chief/Art Director: Eric Keith
Photographer: James J.J. McQueen
Stylist: Ron Jeffries
Stylist Assistant: Chris Atkins
Videographer: Trevor Chin
Graphic Designer: Tyline Burgess
