"An air force?" Leo asked. "You mean we need media support?"
"Yes, but not the kind you're thinking of," Roosevelt answered.
Leo's first instinct was to contact the local Pittsburgh newspapers and television stations.
He thought the story of the community center was newsworthy enough to pique their interest.
"A foolish idea," Roosevelt immediately shot him down. "Kid, never fight on a battlefield chosen by the enemy, using rules set by the enemy."
"The mainstream media, from newspapers to TV stations, are all supported by advertising money from big corporations. Their shareholders, the Mayor, and Peak Development Group all belong to the same class. If you go to them, you'll just end up being eaten alive."
"They'll send a shrewd reporter to interview you, then use selective editing to take your words out of context and paint you as an ignorant youth stirring up populism. Or, they simply won't report on it at all, and your voice will sink like a stone in the ocean."
"Then what do we do? Keep posting on Twitter?" Leo thought of what Sarah was doing.
"That's not enough either," Roosevelt said. "Words are cold. They lack emotional impact. The people need to see your face, hear your voice, and feel your anger and sincerity. They need to connect with a living, breathing person, not an online ID."
"Back when I was facing the Great Depression, the reason I was able to steady the people's hearts was because of the radio. Through my fireside chats, I spoke directly to every American family, bypassing the newspaper magnates who were hostile to me."
"You also need your own radio, a platform to speak directly with the citizens of Pittsburgh."
Roosevelt paused, then offered a solution for the twenty-first century.
"Start a YouTube channel."
Leo was stunned.
'YouTube?'
He usually only watched gaming videos and movie reviews on it.
He had never imagined that this entertainment platform could become a weapon in a political struggle.
"Yes, YouTube." Roosevelt's tone was firm. "It is the cheapest and most powerful megaphone of this era. And most importantly, here, we make the rules."
No sooner said than done, Leo immediately found Sarah and explained the idea to her.
Sarah's eyes lit up.
As a young person familiar with the online ecosystem, she immediately understood the brilliance of this strategy.
She registered a new channel right away.
"What should we name the channel?" Sarah asked.
Leo thought for a moment.
Roosevelt's voice gave him the answer.
"Call it Pittsburgh Heart."
"Our focus will be local. We won't talk about vague national policies or the bullshit drama between the Democratic and Republican Parties. We'll concentrate on Pittsburgh, on the everyday issues affecting ordinary people. The community center, public transit, roads full of potholes, soaring rent... these are the things people actually care about."
The channel was set up.
Now, they needed to shoot the first video.
Just as Leo was about to start recording with his laptop camera at his desk, which was piled high with books and fast-food wrappers, Roosevelt, with unprecedented enthusiasm, stepped in and began to play the role of director.
"Stop! Leo, do you want everyone to think you're a loser who lives in a garbage dump?"
Roosevelt's tone was extremely stern.
"The image of a political leader must be established from the very first second. We need a setting that conveys three messages: stability, reliability, and approachability."
Leo looked around his small apartment, unable to find a single corner that could be associated with those three words.
"Take the only decent piece of furniture in your apartment, that armchair, and move it in front of the fireplace," Roosevelt commanded.
"But the fireplace is fake. It's just for decoration," Leo said.
"Nobody will care. What's important is the symbolism of family and warmth it conveys."
Leo struggled to move the chair.
"Now, look at the bookshelf behind you," Roosevelt continued. "Throw away all that messy fast-food packaging. Only two books can be on the shelf."
"Which two?"
"A copy of the Bible," Roosevelt said.
"The Bible? I'm not a Christian," Leo said, a bit confused.
"But many of the voters you'll be serving are, especially the conservative, older, working-class ones. That book isn't there to express your faith. It's there to send them a message: you respect their traditions and values. It's a political strategy for unity."
"And the other one?"
"Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States."
Leo immediately understood Roosevelt's intention.
This book represented his stance.
He wasn't a traditional politician. He stood with the people.
One book to represent unity, one to represent his stance.
A perfect backdrop was thus arranged.
Next was the speech.
Leo wrote a draft based on the materials he had gathered over the past few days.
Roosevelt helped him revise it, word by word.
"Delete this phrase, 'procedural justice.' It's too academic. No one will understand it. Just say there was something wrong with the city's auction process."
"This sentence is too long. Break it up. Use more short sentences, more parallelism. Make your words sound powerful and rhythmic."
"Here, you need a metaphor. Tell people the community center is like the old oak tree in their backyard. It's not perfect, but it has sheltered generations from the wind and rain. Now, someone wants to cut it down just to build a lifeless swimming pool in its place."
The script was revised.
Finally, performance coaching.
Leo sat in the chair, facing the second-hand DSLR camera Sarah had set up, feeling completely awkward.
"Slow down, Leo." Roosevelt's voice echoed in his mind, like a strict drama coach. "Imagine you're not giving a speech. You're sitting by the fireside, chatting with a friend who's just finished a long, hard day at the steel mill. Your tone should be sincere and steady."
"Lean forward slightly. Look at the camera as if you're looking into their eyes. Don't look away. Let them feel your confidence."
"When you talk about the city government's inaction, you need to furrow your brow. Show your anger and disappointment with your expression!"
"When you talk about the residents' plight, lower your voice to show your sympathy and understanding."
Leo practiced again and again.
From his initial stiffness and awkwardness, he slowly started to get the hang of it.
He was no longer Leo Wallace. He had become the host of "Pittsburgh Heart."
He had become the warrior speaking out for the community.
In the first video, he talked about only one thing.
The story of the Steel Worker Community Center.
In the most straightforward way possible, he clearly laid out the whole story, explaining the shady transfer of benefits between Peak Development Group and Mayor Carter Wright.
He wove the stories of George, Rosa, and Mike into the narrative.
This wasn't just a story about land and taxes. It was a story about people.
The video was finished.
Sarah spent the entire night doing some simple editing, adding subtitles and images of key information.
Then, she clicked "Upload."
The first video from "Pittsburgh Heart" was officially live.
The first day's results were discouraging.
The video only had a pathetic few hundred views.
Most of which were probably from Frank and his old buddies.
In the comments section, aside from a few encouraging words from community residents, most of it was mockery and sarcasm.
"Another wannabe influencer trying to get famous by bashing the government."
"Who is this guy? He talks so slowly, I almost fell asleep."
"Talks a big game. If you've got the guts, why don't you run for mayor, loser."
Leo felt a wave of discouragement as he read the comments.
He had originally thought the video would go off like a bomb in Pittsburgh's public sphere.
But in reality, it was more like a small pebble tossed into the ocean, not even making a ripple.
"Did we fail?" he asked Roosevelt.
But Roosevelt's voice was unusually calm.
"Don't be hasty, kid."
"Political propaganda isn't a fast-acting medicine. We've already planted the seed."
"Now, we just need a little push."