By Ashlee Banks
Special to the AFRO
abanks@afro.com

In a city where meetings stretch into the night and policy fights often drown out personal lives, Rep. Glenn Ivey (D-Md.-4) has found a rare and resonant rhythm, balancing the demands of public service with the quiet duties of fatherhood and family.

Speaking with passion about his purpose and priorities, the Maryland congressman told the AFRO he pours his energy into public service and family, with little room for anything else.

“I love what I’m doing. I’m totally committed to doing it– 110 percent,” said Ivey. “I don’t have hobbies, I don’t play golf, I don’t garden…I love working and I love focusing on my congressional duties when I’m not spending time with the family.”

For Ivey, a Black father and devoted husband to Jolene Ivey, a former state delegate and Prince George’s County Council member, family is not a footnote in his political journey. It is the foundation.

Congressman Glenn Ivey (D-Md.-4), seen leaving a committee meeting on Capitol Hill exemplifies how a Black father and husband can balance the intense demands of public office with deep commitment to his family, choosing service over hobbies and adapting his home life to support a politically engaged household. (AP Photo/Jacquelyn Martin)

In a Congress filled with cross-country commuters, Ivey’s home is within 20 miles of the U.S. Capitol, a proximity he acknowledges as both a privilege and a perspective-shifter.

“It’s a different kind of issue for me,” he said, reflecting on colleagues with young children who travel weekly from places like California or Hawaii.

“You’re spending a whole day traveling each way, and then they’re here for three or four days a week. That only leaves them like a day or two to see their kids. I know that’s not easy,” he told the AFRO.

But, even without the grueling travel, Ivey is honest about how politics can stretch a family thin. When Jolene launched her own political career, Ivey was then serving as Prince George’s County state’s attorney, an already demanding job that suddenly required another set of skills–being a primary caregiver.

“At first, I wasn’t cooking dinner. I was ordering pizza,” he admitted, laughing. “And then, you know it’s bad when the kids start complaining about pizza again. They actually took up a collection and got a cookbook.”

So, he learned to cook and he grew to enjoy it.

Later, when Jolene ran for lieutenant governor, the household burden shifted almost entirely to him. The load was heavy, but he did not complain. Instead, he adjusted, adapted, took the hits and found the humor in it.

“It was pretty much just me,” he said simply, with the practiced humility of a man who has spent decades navigating public life while trying to keep private life intact.

But, the Iveys are not your typical Washington family. Politics is not just dinner table talk, it’s dinner itself.

“Some of our family members who aren’t in politics have to leave the table if they want to get away from the political conversation,” he joked. With both parents steeped in public service and one of their sons, Julian, also holding elected office, the Iveys represent a multi-generational commitment to civic life—and to each other.

In a Congress often defined by brinkmanship, bitterness, and burnout, Ivey offers something different. His story is not just about juggling responsibilities, it is about reimagining what leadership looks like, rooted in service, sacrifice, humor and love.

As lawmakers continue to debate policies on work-life balance, childcare, and family leave, Ivey’s lived experience gives him a front-row seat to the stakes. He is a reminder that behind every vote is a father trying to get home for dinner, a husband who once learned to cook because his kids were tired of pepperoni.