The Message Man: Ferraro Award Winner Matt Corridoni ’13 Helps Political Campaigns Connect

Forty years after Geraldine Ferraro ’56 became the first woman nominated for vice president by a major political party, Kamala Harris mounted her own barrier-breaking run as the first woman of color to lead a major party ticket. And one MMC alum has a connection to them both: Matt Corridoni ’13. Corridoni served as a national spokesperson for Harris’s 2024 presidential campaign, and, next month, he’ll become the latest recipient of MMC’s Geraldine A. Ferraro Award, recognizing achievement in law or public service. He is one of six alums who will be honored May 8 at the College’s Alumni Awards ceremony, held during the 2026 Alumni Reunion and open to the community.

Corridoni majored in Political Science and Theatre Arts at MMC, where he was a Jeannette K. Watson Fellow. After earning a master’s in Political Communication from American University, he began his career on Martin O’Malley’s 2016 presidential campaign. He later held senior communications roles for Pete Buttigieg, Seth Moulton, and Jake Auchincloss, and served as a spokesperson for the Democratic National Committee. Today, Corridoni advises Majority Democrats, a political group committed to reshaping the party, and its sister organization, The Bench, which recruits and supports new Democratic leaders. He is also a Victory Fund Campaign Board member, helping elect LGBTQ voices to public office.

We spoke with him about his work, his time at MMC, and how everyday people can make a difference.

Congratulations, Matt. What does this recognition mean for you?
I was honestly caught off guard by it, and I think that’s part of the point of working in public service. It’s a mission-driven industry, not something you enter with the hopes of winning awards or even making a lot of money. You do it to make a difference—though sometimes, especially in the current political climate, it can feel like you’re not always having an impact. But that’s why this recognition is so meaningful—it’s a reminder that even when you can’t always see it, the work matters.

Geraldine Ferraro passed away in 2011, while you were enrolled at MMC. Were you familiar with her legacy? What aspects resonate most with you?
Both as a student and someone who wanted to work in Democratic politics, I was very aware of who she was, and it was exciting to know she was an alum. That’s special for the College, and she’ll always hold an important place in the Democratic Party. Part of public service is recognizing that the work is never complete, you go as far as you can and pass it to the next generation.

When I think about Geraldine Ferraro, I think about the women in Congress who came after her. Her daughter, Donna Zaccaro, created an amazing documentary about her life that shows how she was one of only a handful of women in the House. Today, there are 128. Two of Geraldine’s early colleagues, Barbara Mikulski and Barbara Boxer, went on to become U.S. senators. Her legacy is understanding that while you might not be successful in the moment, you’re cracking glass ceilings and paving the way for others to carry the work forward.

How do you connect Ferraro’s groundbreaking 1984 campaign to Harris’s run in 2024?
I was at campaign headquarters in Wilmington when my mom sent me a photo of herself after she’d cast her vote for Harris on election day. She was so excited. She had her “I voted” sticker on and was standing beside a photo of my grandmother, the first female mayor in our county in Pennsylvania, whose portrait still hangs in our local polling place. I think about that moment a lot: my grandmother breaking barriers to become mayor, and my mom voting for someone she believed could become the first female president.

That’s the throughline I see between Ferraro and Harris. Each campaign expanded what felt possible. And though neither won their race, it’s important to remember that campaigns have an impact beyond winning or losing. In breaking barriers, both women changed what future generations will consider achievable.

What first drew you to politics? Did your grandmother play a role in that?
Yes, though my grandfather was also a county commissioner. He passed away by the time I was born, but I was very close to my grandmother. Politics was never a taboo topic. There’s that saying about not discussing politics or religion at the dinner table, but we talked about it all the time. My parents took me with them to vote, and I remember trying to stay up to watch the 1996 election results before being sent to bed—my dad came upstairs to tell me when the race was called. My mother also ran for county coroner when I was a kid, so I spent a summer campaigning with her. Politics was always present and something I was naturally drawn to. Given my family history, it wasn’t just encouraged but expected that you’d be a thoughtful, engaged citizen.

What was your pathway into political communications?
Marymount Manhattan College. I was a double major in Theatre with a concentration in Directing and Political Science, and I didn’t know exactly what I’d do with that—I just knew I loved my liberal arts education, learning how to think, and being challenged. Then I took a course called Politics in the Media and realized that was the lane I wanted to be in.

I started researching graduate school programs, and one of the few master’s programs in Political Communication at the time was at American University. It just so happened to be run by an MMC alum, Dotty Lynch ’66. The advisor of our mock trial club at MMC connected me with her, and she invited me to DC for the day. I observed a class, applied to the program, was accepted, and she became my mentor. It was all very serendipitous, and I trace it back to Marymount.

Lynch was also a trailblazer for women, having spent 20 years as CBS News’ political editor. What was she like?
She was one of the smartest people I’ve ever met—one of the kindest as well—and just a very spunky person. She was the first woman to serve as the pollster in a national presidential race and also served as the DNC’s pollster. And she did it at a time when women were not encouraged to have careers, even if they’d gone to college. You know, there’s that old joke about going to school to get the “Mrs. degree.” But Dotty actually wanted to have a career. She wasn’t going to college just to be social or to find her husband. She had a very impressive and distinguished career that she prioritized and was unapologetic about.

Do you find yourself making use of your Theatre degree as you navigate the political world?
Yes, especially the ability to communicate and adapt under pressure. In live theater, when something goes wrong, you just go with it. You also learn how people think, feel, and communicate—whether you’re directing or performing, you have to get inside a character’s head. There’s a lot of that in politics, both in communicating with voters and within a campaign. Theatre gives you a skill set that helps you understand the world in different ways and stay adaptable in any circumstance.

The same is true of a Political Science degree. One of my MMC professors used to say political science is the art and craft of selling an idea—figuring out how to make the world around you work and pitching that to your peers.

In what ways has your MMC education stayed with you?
MMC taught me how to think. It was a small liberal arts college where classes were kept at a certain size and grounded in the Socratic method. We were encouraged to engage different viewpoints, read things we might disagree with, become active readers, and be prepared to debate. We were also encouraged to use New York City as our classroom and to expose ourselves to parts of the world that we wouldn’t have otherwise interacted with. I always loved that there was nothing weird about double majoring in Theatre and Political Science at MMC, because double majoring in multiple disciplines was encouraged. Marymount dispelled the myth that education should be siloed, and I’ve been able to apply that in every facet of my life.

Can you share a particularly meaningful moment from your career?
When I hear that question, my first instinct is to point to legislation—seeing meaningful policy passed on the Hill when I worked there. But it also makes me think about campaigning. During the 2020 presidential primary, I worked on Pete Buttigieg campaign’s rapid response team. Part of rapid response is pumping out positive content in real time, so we were in the war room, watching this speech he was giving in Utah, where a young person got up to ask a question. He told Pete that he was gay and that he had been contemplating suicide until he saw Pete run for president. I remember clipping that moment and sharing it, then seeing the response online and in the media. It was a powerful reminder of how much the campaign meant to people and the lasting impact it would have, win or lose.

What career lessons would you share with MMC students?
Don’t be afraid to move out of your comfort zone, both literally and figuratively. I’ve had the opportunity to live out of a suitcase in states I never thought I’d see, and that created a lot of opportunities. I’d also say don’t be afraid of losing. My first real campaign was Martin O’Malley’s presidential campaign, and we got less than one percent in Iowa—but that’s what started my career, and I made lifelong friends doing it.

How can members of the MMC community play a role in influencing public policy?
Anyone who wants to can make a difference, whether at the local or national level. Speak out. Write to a member of Congress—having worked on the Hill, I can promise those letters get read—show up at a rally, submit a letter to the editor, or volunteer for a campaign. There are many ways to get involved.

And, again, the metric of success isn’t always immediate results. Even if the policy you care about doesn’t pass right away or get the response you hoped for, you’re still moving the needle. Sometimes you take it as far as you can and pass it to the next generation. It’s like football: you’re part of a team. You may not score the touchdown, but if you move the ball down the field, someone else can carry it across the goal line.

Published: April 13, 2026