'I think people are looking for new blood, is what I'm seeing'

It is Friday night, and the New Boston is working the Old Boston at Joe Tecce's.

Sam Yoon, a first-time candidate for an at-large City Council seat, a fifth-place finisher in September's preliminary election, is making his way around the tables at the annual Columbus Day Parade banquet, and everybody seems happy to see him.

''The North End brought you in, and you'll be in in November," Ida Di Pasquale tells him, squeezing his hand tightly.

Yoon's surprisingly strong showing in September is now being seen as a sign that political power is shifting in this city, from the older Irish and Italian constituencies toward newer voters, generally coming from minority groups.

''I can't believe I came in fifth place," Yoon tells an old-timer at one table.

''My first campaign! I think people are looking for new blood, is what I'm seeing."

But old blood makes Yoon a hit at Tecce's on this night. ''I gotta vote for you," says Carmine Colarusso of the North End. ''Sal DiMasi told me. He's a good man, Sal."

Salvatore F. DiMasi, the House speaker, the product of traditional Boston politics, is mobilizing people for Yoon.

Yoon, a Korean-American housing advocate who works at Chinatown's Asian Community Development Corporation is the first Asian-American ever to run for the Boston City Council.

For DiMasi, whose legislative district includes Chinatown, supporting Yoon is as much a matter of showing his constituents that he cares about them as helping someone with whom he has worked closely.

So the classic Boston insider has embraced the newcomer.

At the Columbus Day dinner, Yoon, who is tall and thin and who has the demeanor of an earnest schoolboy, buttonholes DiMasi. Will the speaker host an event for him?

He will. A fund-raiser is now set for Monday, at Anthony's Pier 4 restaurant near the Fish Pier.

Yoon grew up mostly in Lebanon, Pa., in Amish country, after his family arrived from Seoul when he was a baby. His parents demanded much of their three children. His father insisted that Yoon score at least 1400 on his SATs, and his son obliged, hitting that mark on the nose on his first try. He took the test again to improve his score.

That helped Yoon get into Princeton, where he earned a degree in philosophy. He taught in New Jersey public schools before coming here in 1993, for a graduate degree in economic development at Harvard's John F. Kennedy School of Government.

His family's church -- Yoon is a Presbyterian -- was a big part of his childhood, the center of his small Korean community in Pennsylvania. In the beginning, he attended mostly out of duty.

''In high school I had a lot of intellectual doubt about the validity of Christianity," he says. ''Only after I moved to Boston in 1993 did I come to renew my faith. I was struggling over the purpose of my life. ''

It is unusual for candidates here to talk about religion. But Yoon, an elder in Brookline's Bethany Presbyterian Church, is free with talk of his faith on the trail, though he hastens to head off some of the assumptions people might make.

''I support gay marriage and [abortion rights], and those are positions I came to long before I thought about entering politics," he says.

He says he had not thought about entering politics until recently.

''I emerged from the Kennedy School with a cynical view of government," he said. ''I thought it was all about red tape."

In Chinatown, Yoon saw the power of political office when support from DiMasi and state Senator Dianne Wilkerson helped unite the neighborhood behind a plan to return a parcel of land freed up by the dismantling of the Central Artery for low-cost housing. In discussions among various Chinatown interests, Yoon helped build consensus and showed an ability to talk to people on all sides, those involved say. That got him excited, too, about running for office.

''I thought: 'Maybe this is my calling. Maybe I could do this,' " he said.

In 2003, Yoon helped to found The New Majority, a group of minority and immigrant activists who made a priority of reelecting an at-large councilor, Felix Arroyo. The Hispanic candidate's victory was ''an inspiration," Yoon said. After the election, Yoon met with Mel King over a cup of hot chocolate and posed a question.

''What would you think about an Asian-American running for City Council?" Yoon asked.

King embraced the idea.

''He is leadership material; he's a thinker," said King, the activist and the former legislator who ran for the Boston mayor's office in 1983.

Being Asian has given Yoon some advantages.

He has been featured in national Asian publications and on the home page of the Asian American Action Fund, a political action committee that assists Asian and Pacific Islander candidates nationally. Yoon's campaign finance reports show an unusually high number of out-of-state donations, many of them from Asian-Americans.

On the trail, there is still much of the Kennedy School wonk in Yoon: He advocates better ''process" in the city's development projects, and he vows to organize a conference to improve that process to allow for more public participation. He proposes a more aggressive housing policy, and he seeks increased funding to help renovate the city's school buildings. Yoon has been criticized by some for his positions, which they said could have been bolder.

''I'm interested in good governance," he said over decaf and a pear-cranberry crisp at a Fields Corner restaurant. ''It may not fit in a sound bite. Where there are strong positions I need to take . . . I'll take them."

Asked for an example, Yoon offered something decidedly uncontroversial: a 311 complaint line to provide the public with 24-hour, access to city departments.

That caution is hard to shake.

At the Columbus Day Banquet, Yoon parks himself at one of the tables while DiMasi is speaking.

''Hi, Sam!" says a gray-haired man from the other side of the table, smiling widely.

Yoon looks stricken. He raises a hand, tries to pull a memory up, comes up blank.

''I, I . . ." he begins.

''Oh, you don't know me!" the man says. ''I just read your button!"