Sitting comfortably in his backyard, lifelong Chicagoan Liam Stanton, 38, represents a stark contrast to the city's typical career politicians. Raised in Rogers Park as the youngest of eight, the mayoral candidate leverages his deep hometown roots to offer a grounded, authentic voice for a city he feels is slipping away.
Rather than relying on the heavily rehearsed talking points of traditional candidates, Stanton builds his campaign around unscripted authenticity. "Someone gave me the advice, like 'Your're not a politician, so don't talk like one,' and I try to do that," he explains.
That down-to-earth perspective comes straight from the busy household that keeps Stanton completely grounded. Looking down at his wedding ring, he calls his wife, Jackie, a "saint" for managing their two young kids—a family they don't take for granted after a devastating medical diagnosis years ago told them they'd never be able to have children.
Facing that uncertain future, the couple decided to pivot and adopt their now six-year-old Golden Retriever, June. That single choice changed everything, with Stanton calling June their "ultimate good luck charm" after a new home, a new job, and two miracle kids quickly followed.
Having a full house, though, shows the brutal reality of childcare costs, which is why he's pushing so hard for citywide affordability. He notes, "I think our problems and opportunities can be boiled down to hitting the gas: growth, affordability, and safety."
Instead of relying on traditional political networks, Stanton uses local sidewalks as a backdrop to film digital campaign content with his 24-year-old creative director, Tyler. Bypassing mainstream media to talk directly to voters through their phones, he describes their tight-knit operation as a genuine partnership, noting that "there's a lot of like brotherly love between Tyler and I, and we're just doing this because we care."
"I think we're making content that is pushing forward ideas that we're proud of and we think will move the city in the right direction," Stanton says as he reviews sidewalk footage with Tyler. The duo collaborates on low-budget digital content, creating a feed that seamlessly ranges from serious policy talks to reviewing local small business food joints.
Drawing on his background as a local business owner, Stanton brings an aggressive urgency to Chicago's looming budget crisis. Looking at current city leadership, he asks, "The house is on fire. Will you do something?"
Stanton listens intently to a pedestrian after asking "What do you want to see improved about Chicago?" prioritizing raw human connection over calculated campaign metrics. "There is just this like maniacal focus on money that I wish didn't exist, and I'm trying to break that," he insists.
Unintimidated by the political establishment, the Rogers Park native businessman maps out his grassroots strategy with unwavering defiance. "I want way more Chicagoans. Everyone [should] move here. It's the greatest city in the world!" he exclaims.
The candidate's demeanor shifts to frustration as the street-level conversation turns to the urgent reality of violent crime. "We need to get back to public safety [and] public order, so nothing will matter until we do that," he states firmly.
Shaking hands with a local supporter, the underdog candidate seals his promise to the voters by calling for strict mayoral term limits. He isn't looking to use their trust to build a lifelong political career; he just wants to fix the system so he can get back to everyday life with Jackie, his two kids, and, of course, June.