In 1986, Barbara Sykes was pregnant with her second daughter when she faced a pivotal decision: whether to run for Akron City Council’s at-large seat after an appointment made her the first Black woman to serve on the body.
Sykes won the election, gave birth to Emilia, and two weeks later returned to City Council. She didn’t want to give anyone a reason to say women shouldn’t be in positions of power.
From her seat, she advocated for and passed legislation that prioritized minority-owned businesses in the city — a decision she made only after weighing what it would mean for her two daughters, including Stancy, who was about 10 at the time. It’s why early in her daughters’ lives, she brought them everywhere, from campaign events to community meetings.
“Every step that I’ve made in my professional life and personal life,” said Barbara, now 70, “you know, I’ve questioned, is this the right thing to do? Should I do this?”
Her daughters watched her step down as chair of the Ohio Civil Rights Commission after she was at odds with former Gov. Ted Strickland about the right for new parents to take unpaid time off and return to their jobs in the private sector. While on Akron City Council, they saw her stand up against her colleagues to oppose their efforts to condemn a swingers’ conference that came to Akron.

“She’s been blessed with health and prosperity, and she feels an obligation, responsibility, to continue to contribute to the community,” said her husband, Vernon, a retired state senator.
Her most recent political victory secured her the presidency on the Akron Board of Education, a position she deemed critical given state lawmakers’ shifting priorities that pull money from public education budgets and into the coffers of private and charter schools. Though the district maintains an annual budget north of $500 million, enrollment has declined for years.
Along the way, she’s mentored several notable Ohio politicos, including Akron Municipal Court Judge David Hamilton, who said he learned the ins and outs of local politics from Sykes.
“You don’t do it for you; you do it for them,” Hamilton said. “You always do what’s right and never be afraid to go another round.”
Care for regular people developed early in the Mississippi Delta
Barbara Sykes’ politics was shaped long before she held public office.
She was born in the middle of eight children in the Mississippi Delta region of Arkansas to parents who dropped out of school to care for their families. She jokes her parents were democratic even then: four boys, four girls.
She said her father wasn’t particularly literate but helped instill in her a work ethic that’s evident today.
Back then, growing up in small-town poverty, looking out for neighbors wasn’t so much a choice as a virtue and necessity. She’s quick to say that they didn’t have a lot, but what they did have was shared: meals, rides, occasionally a roof.
Seeing their struggles, from financial hardship to political and institutional barriers, shaped her commitment to public education.
“Even if I go back home now,” Barbara said, “I see some levels of poverty and experience, and some of them are still my family members.”
It was there that Sykes began to develop her faith, which Ohio Rep. Veronica Sims said is embodied by Proverbs 31 — “a wife of noble character” — and her commitment to public service.

Former dance competition champion still gets nervous about public speaking
Political careers and priorities aside, Arkansas is also where Sykes developed her love of dancing — she won her first dance competition in high school. (Her youngest daughter, Rep. Emilia Sykes (D-OH), said she loves seeing her parents take to the dance floor, adding that when The Temptations or Earth, Wind and Fire are playing, it doesn’t take long for her mother to start cutting a rug.)
Around this time, Barbara Sykes developed her penchant for public speaking in Sunday school. Classmates chose who would speak to the congregation about the week’s lessons, and she was the natural choice.
She’d get nervous.
Decades later, Sykes admits the anxiety traveled with her, from public meetings with Akron City Council, the Ohio Statehouse and, now, the Akron Board of Education.
“I get nervous because I get emotional,” Barbara said. “And I don’t want my emotions to take over the point that I’m trying to make.”

Mentorship a key pillar in Sykes’ career
During her early-1990s run for Ohio auditor of state, Sykes brought Sims onto her campaign as a scheduler, beginning a mentorship that would remain a constant.
Sims learned early that Sykes’ persistence and advocacy for her communities ran deep.

“I think the thing that really draws me to her continuously is it’s genuine, her leadership and her care for people,” Sims told Signal Akron.
In recent months, Sykes has welcomed under her political wing Karmaya Kelly, a relatively unknown Akron school board candidate who last November won a seat.
Kelly sees Sykes’ career as one dedicated to families, whether it was her early-career advocacy for minority-owned businesses in Akron, her time leading Ohio’s AARP or United Way organizations, or now, as the president of Akron’s public school board. Beyond running successful political campaigns, Kelly has learned another commonality they share: serving as caregivers to aging parents.
“For us,” Kelly said, “it shows up in the work that we do as public service.”
Sykes’ experience as a public servant — several times, she’s been one of the first Black women to hold a given public office — has proved invaluable for her lineage of mentees, including Hamilton, the Akron Municipal Court Judge.

Hamilton said he’s known the Sykes family since he was young; and the matriarch of this family has been like a second mother to him.
He entered local politics after serving as a field organizer for Barack Obama’s 2012 presidential campaign. He thought he knew it all.
Assisting with Emilia Skyes’ campaign, he said he learned how to tap into what matters politically at the local level, largely through Barbara Sykes’ mentorship.
“She is definitely a champion of the people,” Hamilton said.
Barbara Sykes gives final push for daughter Emilia to dive into politics
People often believe Emilia Sykes’ father, Vernon, whose political journey began in 1983 as a state representative, pushed her to run for office. But that’s only half the story.
Emilia Sykes said her mother helped remind her she belonged in the most exclusive political spaces in Ohio and the nation — many of which her mother and father previously occupied. Her mother taught her how to navigate fraught political arenas as a Black woman.

“Ultimately, it was my mom who sort of pushed me over, I’ll say the ledge, because I just didn’t think that for me, it was a good fit for my personality to be in public office,” Emilia told Signal Akron.
“And she really kind of sat me down and just expressed that good elected officials, good public servants, start with a heart of service, and then from there, everything else will flow.”

2024 levy campaign emblematic of Sykes’ championing of public education
To understand how Sykes approaches her work, look no further than Akron Public Schools’ 2024 levy campaign. Sykes used her expertise and political clout to help convince Akronites to support a dual bond and levy issue that will fund the construction of a new North High School and provide funding for day-to-day school district operations.
Sykes helped orchestrate the campaign behind the scenes, lending insight into what works and what often doesn’t. That approach was intentional, as are most things in her political career, and allowed others to lead and grow at the same time.
“I learned so much from her,” said Adam Motter, an APS administrator and co-chair of the levy campaign. “I mean, she’s just a wealth of knowledge, and she’s so open and transparent. You know, she communicates really well, so you can’t help but learn a lot.”

Akron school board position reflects public education priority
Sykes’ seat on Akron’s public school board marks the first time she has held an education-centered elected office, but it’s not the first time she’s made that priority known.
When they were young students, Emilia and her older sister, Stancy (now an administrator with APS), were identified as academically gifted. District administrators told her parents Emilia might be better served by one of the region’s private schools.
The Sykes enjoyed the financial means to pay tuition, but they refused.
Emilia continued at Miller South School for the Visual and Performing Arts before graduating from high school at Firestone Community Learning Center.
“My parents were very much believers of the public school system and worked with the school to ensure that I had a rigorous educational opportunity,” Emilia said. “They were showing that public schools do produce smart children who are prepared for the world.”
Barbara Sykes said public schools didn’t just offer the academics her daughters needed, but the socialization. Quality public education, as Sykes sees it, is the equalizer that can uplift entire communities. Education is a political operation, one she said some state-level politicians are only interested in manipulating so people from their communities — often white and suburban — can attend the best schools. It’s an “I got mine” ethos that she couldn’t disagree with more.
“That does not move this society ahead,” Barbara said. “Does not do anything for this community.”

Now, with her ascent at the APS Board of Education, she’s put herself in a position to locally mitigate some of the financial struggles likely coming to Ohio public schools. If nothing changes, APS faces a cash deficit that will eclipse $100 million by 2030. That means the school district will likely cut staff and close school buildings.
Her understanding of state and local politics grants her a unique perspective on how to navigate the troubled waters public school districts find themselves in. She intends to lobby the Greater Akron Chamber for assistance in securing resources from the county and state.
These days, with her daughters established in their own careers, Sykes’ public-service lens has widened again. Her two grandchildren — Hugh and Hope — didn’t grow up on the campaign trail the way her daughters did, but the imprint remains. Hugh now works in the Franklin County treasurer’s office, while Hope is chasing volleyball dreams at Archbishop Hoban.
It’s that long view — past, present and future — that continues to pull Sykes back into local politics.
“It is that local government, ” she said, “and then it can’t be any more significant than how [we are] planning for our future. And it’s with the education of our children.”

