
By James Williams
When Dr. Ala Stanford announced her run for Congress in Pennsylvania’s 3rd District, the move seemed inevitable. As the founder of the Black Doctors COVID-19 Consortium, she became a household name for her leadership, compassion, and grit during the pandemic — bringing health care directly into underserved neighborhoods when few others would.
Her story is Philadelphia through and through. Yet politics, as always, has a way of reducing biography to geography: she’s from here — but she doesn’t live here.
Dr. Stanford now resides in Abington, Montgomery County — outside the district she hopes to represent. Legally, that’s fine. Members of Congress must live in the same state, not necessarily the same district. But in a city where “where you’re from” still defines “who you are,” residency remains a symbol of authenticity.
This isn’t the first time Philadelphia has wrestled with that symbolism. During the 2022 U.S. Senate race, Congressman Dwight Evans helped brand Dr. Mehmet Oz as a political tourist. “You can’t just fly in from New Jersey and pretend you know Philadelphia,” Evans said at the time.
Now, Evans has endorsed another doctor — Dr. Ala Stanford — who doesn’t live in the district either. The irony hasn’t gone unnoticed.
Evans’s endorsement gives Dr. Stanford establishment credibility but also invites scrutiny. His allies argue the difference is intent: Oz moved in for ambition; Stanford moved out for family. Her practice, staff, and outreach remain rooted in the city she calls home.
Still, the contrast is unavoidable. In 2022, residency was a litmus test for authenticity. In 2025, it’s an afterthought. That’s not a knock on Stanford, but it does reveal how principles bend when politics is at stake.
It makes me think back to when I served as campaign manager for Armond James, who ran as a Republican against Chaka Fattah in the old 2nd Congressional District. Armond was born and raised in Philadelphia, but at the time, he lived just over the city line in Cheltenham. I’ll never forget the anxiety that came with that fact.
Even though his roots were real, his address was political dynamite. Every time I saw a reporter’s number flash on my phone, I worried they’d found out. Even as we closed in on The Inquirer’s endorsement, I was terrified the story would leak.
Back then, residency could sink a campaign. It wasn’t just a talking point — it was a test of authenticity. Now, only a decade later, we’ve come to accept what can best be called legal carpet-bagging. As long as you’re from here in spirit, it seems geography no longer matters.
Dr. Stanford’s campaign leans on her credibility as a healer and problem-solver. But Congress is an institution of process and patience — skills learned not in clinics but in committees. Her competitors are seasoned lawmakers with legislative experience that can’t be taught in medical school.
Senator Sharif Street has built a bipartisan record on criminal-justice reform, mental-health funding, and economic development while serving as Chair of the Pennsylvania Democratic Party. Representative Chris Rabb is a policy innovator known for legislation on environmental justice, reparations, and government transparency. Representative Morgan Cephas has championed maternal-health and child-care access initiatives that became statewide models for women’s health reform.
Collectively, they’ve written and passed laws; Dr. Stanford, for now, has written prescriptions. Her task is to show that compassion can coexist with legislative skill.
When Dr. Ben Carson entered politics, his medical brilliance didn’t translate into political dexterity. His career proved that expertise and governance require different muscles. Stanford faces that same test: to transform advocacy into policy-making without losing authenticity.
With Robert F. Kennedy Jr. now serving as Health Czar, medicine and politics are colliding again. Physicians like Stanford see an opening to restore trust in public health. But Washington doesn’t need another doctor with good bedside manner — it needs lawmakers who can broker deals and fund solutions.
Dr. Ala Stanford is not Dr. Oz. She’s not parachuting in for power; she’s a Philadelphian whose career has uplifted communities that Washington often overlooks. Yet the residency debate lingers because Philadelphia voters equate authenticity with address.
Evans’s endorsement gives her momentum — but also the same standard he once used to judge others. In a district defined by loyalty and lived experience, voters will have to decide: does representation require residency — or results?
Either way, this race guarantees one thing: Philadelphia’s conversation about what it means to belong is just getting started.