F-bombs were dropping like flies up on the fourth floor of the county administration building early Friday afternoon where the county supervisors and their staffs meet and work. County Executive Officer Mona Miyasato had just sent out the press release announcing that she was stepping down after 12 years at the helm of a $1.7 billion governmental operation.
The news was hardly unexpected. Miyasato had let it be known several moons ago her departure date was imminent. Still, when the announcement was delivered, it landed like a bombshell. “Oh, f***!” exclaimed one senior county operative who insisted his remarks were strictly on background. “F***!”
Miyasato announced she’s stepping down this coming July, just after the supervisors are legally mandated to affix their collective signatures on what promises to be an exceptionally painful budget document. Already, Miyasato has been preparing the supervisors that the county is looking at $66 million in projected budget shortfalls over the next 10 years, mostly fueled by state and federal cuts. With an unprecedented 225 executive orders signed by President Donald Trump in just the first year of his second presidential term, what passes for Santa Barbara County’s safety net could soon find itself in tatters.
One out of every three county residents, she said at a recent state of the county address, relies on Medi-Cal for health care. Of those, 33,000 may no longer be eligible for medical care under new White House eligibility rules barring those with what the Trump administration describes as being of “Unsatisfactory Immigration Status.” And of those, 7,500 currently are enrolled with one of the county’s five health care clinics.
While Miyasato’s two predecessors in the executive office possessed a rare knack for stirring the pot and roiling the waters, Miyasato seemed uncommonly graced with an infectious calm. During her 12 years, deliberations among the county supervisors — split along all the typical lines of ideology, oil, geography, party, and ambition — were strikingly and surprisingly collegial.
During Miyasato’s tenure, the county government was hit by the Thomas Fire, the attendant debris flow that killed 23 people, COVID and all its deadly and polarizing disruptions, the thick secondhand smoke caused by the George Floyd killing, the much-hyped gold rush of cannabis, homelessness, the housing crisis and the state’s mandated solutions to it, pension reform, and the persistent, insistent financial demands imposed by the need for yet another new North County jail as mental health advocates and criminal justice reform supporters relentlessly pushed for more humane but cheaper solutions.
To the extent Santa Barbara County — as a government and as a community — weathered these storms with a collective spirit of “resilience,” Miyasto’s coolheaded competence and hard work clearly helped. Her door may not always have been open, but her light — according to fourth-floor veterans — was always on.
At a time when Santa Barbara is experiencing a whirlwind of turnover among its top executive class — think of recent changes at Cottage Hospital, UCSB, City Hall, County Fire, and Direct Relief, to name just a few — Miyasato’s departure might have the most obvious impact on the largest number of people.
You must be logged in to post a comment.