‘Not in charge’: Olszewski’s jump from Baltimore County executive to Congress

Ben Mause

The Baltimore Sun

August 11, 2025

Being a freshman lawmaker in the minority party has felt like being ‘relegated to the sidelines’ compared to leading Balt. Co.

There’s a sidewalk in Baltimore County. It extends along Seven Mile Lane, between Old Court Road and Shelbourne — one of a series of similar projects, built to help Pikesville Orthodox Jewish families have a safer walk to the synagogue on the Sabbath.

For freshman Rep. Johnny Olszewski Jr., that concrete path is an example of the difference between his old position of Baltimore County executive and his new title of Baltimore County congressman: It’s harder to build sidewalks in Washington, D.C.

Not that Olszewski is focused on literal sidewalks anymore. As a member of Congress, the issues are different, with more national implications. But, even as his political office has grown in stature, the transition from being the most powerful official in one of Maryland’s largest counties to one of the least in the U.S. House has been a frustrating experience.

“Relatively speaking to the prior job, you feel relegated to the sidelines,’” Olszewski told The Baltimore Sun. “It’s so different.”

On the surface, newly elected lawmakers enter Congress as powerful people. They are, after all, one of the 535 or so people shaping the laws that govern day-to-day American life. But influence on Capitol Hill — often rooted in a mix of money and relationships — doesn’t grow overnight. In reality, most new members arrive in D.C. at the bottom of a messy heap.

That’s especially true for members who arrive in the minority party, as Olszewski and most Maryland members are, where even experienced lawmakers have little say in what Congress does on a daily basis. But many new members arrive straight from being state legislators. They’re used to the back and forth of a larger legislative body. Olszewski is not.

‘I’m not in charge’

The congressman, widely known as “Johnny O,” was slapping hands with people walking the yard outside the Langston Hughes Community Center last Tuesday. It was Baltimore’s National Night Out kick-off event in Park Heights. Prominent local Democrats — Attorney General Anthony Brown among them — were on site with Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott, who introduced Olszewski with a compliment.

“I am so happy that he is there to bring some executive-level sense to Congress,” Scott said to the crowd.

Although Baltimore city and county operations are independent of each other, Scott and Olszewski talked regularly, collaborating on issues that affected residents on either side of the city limits.

There were big things, like trying to upgrade the area’s failing water and wastewater infrastructure. And there were small things, like snowplow routes — “They used to literally go to the city-county line, stop, and then turn around,” Olszewski said.

But there were always decisions for Olszewski to make, tangible steps to take, things residents could praise or complain about, things of literal substance that he could watch come together and be utilized — like a concrete sidewalk.

The past eight months have taught him that “tangible” is tougher to find in the U.S. House.

“I’m trying to find ways to be as involved in all of it as I can,” Olszewski said. “But it’s hard.”

“I’m not in charge,” he added, “and it’s hyper partisan.”

The GOP holds the House, Senate and White House, and there’s a conservative majority on the Supreme Court. President Donald Trump’s executive actions have reshaped the government, and the legislation that Congress has passed — most of it encompassed by Trump’s “One, Big Beautiful Bill Act” — has had a conservative rubberstamping, with tax breaks and cuts to social programs, plus a bit of defense and border security money on the side.

As the minority party, Democrats have been hard-pressed to stop Republicans from passing their legislative priorities. Instead, they’re focusing on the future: winning back the majority in the midterm elections. Using a mix of social media, public rallies and procedural delays, Democrats have spent the year bashing the policies supported by Republicans, trying to win enough public sentiment to cause a blue wave in 2026.

Olszewski has checked all the boxes of Democratic resistance under Trump. He’s held rallies and news conferences, offered late-night amendments to delay inevitable Republican votes, used social media to bash cuts to social programs and given floor speeches that blast his conservative colleagues. He’s written commentaries and commiserated with federal workers. He tried to enter an ICE detention facility with other Maryland lawmakers, then staged a sit-in when turned away. And most recently, he’s joined the chorus of Democrats calling for the release of the Epstein files.

But, while most Democrats have been relegated to high-profile political activists, Olszewski has found some early legislative success. He’s co-led on two bills with Republican members that have passed the House. One aims to increase the number of small business hires of graduates from career and technical programs. The other would monitor Chinese efforts to build or buy shipping ports in foreign countries that could affect U.S. national security.

Sometimes, in Congress, success results from something unrelated. Like baseball.

Olszewski is a diehard Orioles fan. Rep. Roger Williams, a Texas Republican, played in the minor leagues for the Atlanta Braves and managed the baseball program at Texas Christian University. He coaches the Republican baseball team. Earlier this summer, Williams’ aging sluggers treated Olszewski’s Democrats like a tee-ball team during the annual Congressional Baseball Game.

“Relationships have mattered, still matter, will always matter,” Olszewski said, describing Williams as a good guy whose politics “couldn’t be more different” than his own. “But you have to forcibly create those opportunities.”

“Roger Williams and I get to talk smack to each other in committee,” Olszewski added. “It’s like, we’re both doing baseball, but he also happens to be the chairman of my Small Business Committee.”

‘Buck stopped with him’

After leaving Park Heights, Olszewski visited another Night Out at Central Park in Owings Mills. He was joined by Baltimore County Councilman Julian Jones Jr., an ally during Olszewski’s days as executive.

Jones’ relationship with Olszewski extends past the congressman’s stint as county leader, back to when he was a delegate in the state legislature. From then through Olszewski’s time as executive — and even now on certain issues — Jones has learned what it’s like to work with him. And from outside the Beltway, it’s easy for Jones to see how Congress would be a tough adjustment for someone used to wielding local authority.

“The buck stopped with him as county executive,” Jones said. “Congress has a lot of people there. That’s a big ship to move.”

Beyond the obvious size discrepancy, Jones said there were fundamental differences between how local governments and Congress operate as institutions.

“We like to coin ourselves ‘pothole government,’” Jones said, saying that the council and executive’s primary job is to provide services for people in the county — services that officials also benefit from as residents.

“The difference is it was a small enough body, and we all lived in the community together,” Olszewski said. “We built relationships.”

Even when they disagreed, the council’s four Democrats and three Republicans still had an incentive to work together in pragmatic ways, though their political views diverged.

The opposite is often true in the House, amid a widening partisan gap that often vilifies members who try to bridge it.

The House has had a productive eight months. But it’s hard to find a Democrat who likes what it’s produced — specifically, the partisan “One, Big Beautiful Bill,” which passed solely with Republican votes. The nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office predicted it will cause over 11.8 million people — including over 145,000 Maryland residents — to lose their health care coverage over the next decade, while ballooning the national deficit to roughly $4 trillion.

“We’re choosing to jam things through in a partisan way,” Olszewski said. “It’s unfortunately the evolution of what we’ve seen over the past many years and decades,” mentioning that both parties bear the blame.

Over a year ahead of the elections that could return Democrats to power in the House, his team is having discussions on how they can avoid falling into the same partisan rut should they win back the majority.

“We have to do a better job as a party,” Olszewski said. “And then I need to make sure that I’m being consistent as a leader in calling out the same kind of behavior if my party is engaging in it.”

Silver lining

Olszewski’s face lit up when he talked about his time as county executive. About balanced budgets, housing bills, bulk trash pickup — “I could talk forever,” he said.

It’s a marked difference from the frustration he feels on the House floor.

“Have we passed a couple of small bills out of the House that are bipartisan, that we’ve co-led? Sure,” Olszewski said. “Do I hope it’s a foundation to the larger stuff? Yeah. But I worry that it’s going in the opposite direction.”

Yet, despite all the negatives — or maybe because of them — Olszewski said it’s the perfect time to be in Congress. Even with the partisanship and the division and even as he sometimes feels pushed to the sidelines.

“Do I like it and am I enjoying it? Absolutely,” he said. “Is it frustrating and hard? For sure.”

As Republicans plan a major redistricting push and Democrats threaten a response, it’s hard to imagine the partisan divide shrinking in the future. Nevertheless, Olszewski is looking for a silver lining.

“I’m under no illusions that it’s gonna be like what I did in Baltimore County,” Olszewski said. “It was a hyper-local experience, much smaller legislative body — I get that. But there’s no reason we can’t move much more towards that.”

“I’m now a part of a conversation about, not just who we want to be as Baltimore County or Maryland,” he added. “Like, I want to be part of the conversation of, who are we as a country and where is this country going?”