Professionalism Was the Lie

The Real Cost of Unqualified Leadership at RIOC

For years, the Roosevelt Island Operating Corporation (RIOC) touted a narrative of "professionalism"—a term invoked so often it became synonymous with executive hires, promotional campaigns, and bloated salaries. But professionalism without competence is theater. And the last five years at RIOC have been a masterclass in stagecraft without substance.

Inflated Titles, Hollow Experience

Under former CEO Shelton Haynes, RIOC salaries didn’t just rise, they soared. Staffers who once earned modest public-sector wages were suddenly pulling six figures, often without the experience to match. “Bloated salaries were already common before Shelton arrived, he just turned a trickle into a flood,” recalled one longtime observer. Every title bump and pay raise required approval from Albany and quiet assent from the board. The result? A top-heavy leadership team that looked professional on paper, but in practice, several key figures, according to internal sources, were learning on the job, making real-time mistakes while earning executive-level pay.

One example: Mary Cunneen, promoted from Parks Director to Acting COO. Though the title suggested island-wide operational authority, insiders confirm she was never granted meaningful control. Instead, Haynes split operational duties among the HR, Finance, and Communications departments, effectively sidelining Mary while granting her a salary that recently topped $200,000. The gesture served dual purposes: reward loyalty and present an image of reform.

Loyalty and Leverage: The Real Politics of Promotion

That symbolic promotion wasn’t just about Mary. It reflected a broader culture where advancement was linked less to ability and more to allegiance. When the winds shifted and Shelton’s administration came under fire, Mary pivoted quickly—according to multiple sources—lending support to Gerrald Elliss, the former Assistant Vice President/Deputy General Counsel, just days before the executive team was placed on leave.

Gerrald, officially no longer part of RIOC, remains a figure of influence. Multiple insiders allege he continues to communicate regularly with both staff and board members, helping shape internal strategy and conversation. His defenders say he still cares deeply about the island and its future. Others see him preparing the ground for a possible return—an enduring symbol of RIOC’s reluctance to let go of the old guard. As reported by The Roosevelt Islander blog, he was even noted as one of the top candidates for the CEO position.

Board Meetings or Performances?

At the governance level, RIOC's board was often treated more like a stage audience than an oversight body. Contracts were signed before board votes. Questions were deflected or met with outright misinformation. One former board member recalled:

"RIOC lies. They didn’t even represent part of the truth. They would keep us blindfolded and then in a board meeting present us with information—and when we asked questions, they lied. By the time we realized it, we had already voted for it and everyone moved on."

That pattern of obfuscation was structural. When RIOC's bylaws were updated in 2025, the changes included weakening the board’s oversight over executive raises and removing salary disclosure requirements. While this was framed as a streamlining effort, it effectively removed public accountability. You might gloss over this fact, but New York State employees receive an incredible benefits package—one most in the private sector can’t even imagine. In exchange, public servants typically accept lower-than-market salaries.

At RIOC, unqualified individuals often earned far more than their peers elsewhere in government would ever be offered with similar résumés. While the Shelton administration accelerated this imbalance, it did not act in a vacuum. It was aided quietly and consistently by the local board, especially Audit Committee Chair Howard Polivy; with support from the State Budget Department who authorizes all increases. This helps explain why allegations of unwarranted salary increases never received a public response—even after internal 'investigations.' After all, when you fund an investigation yourself, there’s little incentive to admit enabling or encouraging $200K salaries for unqualified staff with lifelong government benefits.

The Infrastructure We Can’t Ignore

While executive resumes expanded, the island’s physical foundations buckled. Piers, steam tunnels, and public railings reportedly deteriorated—some to the point of near-collapse. Eleanor’s Pier and others were flagged as structurally unsound. Wheelchair users navigated dangerously broken Z-bricks. Wildlife was poisoned due to careless maintenance practices. And most visibly, the iconic Red Bus service collapsed into a single operational bus.

Residents who raised alarms were met with bureaucratic deferrals, conflicting answers, or no response at all. Meeting minutes reveal staff denying issues one month and admitting them the next. It wasn’t just a failure of competence—it was a systemic erosion of accountability.

A New Era?

There are signs of movement. Two new board members have joined, representing perspectives more reflective of the island’s current demographic. For the first time, the board selected a CEO under the authority of its revised bylaws—a shift that may seem minor, but one insiders say is symbolically powerful.

Still, many of the same players remain. And the culture of secrecy and symbolic promotions hasn’t disappeared overnight. Once the new CEO is officially seated and their 100 days of grace come to a close, we’ll learn whether this new chapter will bring real responsiveness—not just to the vocal islanders, but to the potholes, the bus system, the failing underground HVAC infrastructure, and the long-overdue need for qualified leadership across RIOC’s upper ranks.

Gerrald Ellis ushered in transparency. Some of the new board members have been advocates who enabled his work. Yet transparency without fundamental change only reveals the cracks. We are grateful to Gerrald for letting us see what we always heard in whispers. Still, Gerrald was neither experienced nor powerful enough to broker between Albany and the needs of the community.

The most vocal local advocates often do not represent the actual needs of the island, but instead serve their own interests—or those of powerful, non-island players. In some cases, these advocates act less as community voices and more as proxies for external brokers. Meanwhile, many Roosevelt Islanders have either given up on RIOC or are unaware of its existence altogether.

Eleanor goes to the meetings no one else attends—because they matter. Her advocacy is grounded in enabling more residents to understand what’s at stake. And there are already signs that a more informed public is emerging. But for now, the future of this island remains in the hands of a few who do not represent the people who live here. And the people who live here, for the most part, remain disengaged and powerless.

The true test of this new administration won’t be in what it says, but whether it can see beyond the curated voices and listen to the silence they often drown out.