Icky & Gross
When it comes to local politics, whether it's a grassroots organizer tackling a single issue or a candidate running for office, we need to remember that we have to live where our grenades land.
To be clear, I’m not a politician. I’m also not that interested in politics. But I AM incredibly interested in how people interact within communities, how they perceive themselves and others, and how cities can realize the potential they have of being the single most effective (and comparatively easiest) way to change the world.
And unfortunately I see capable and well intentioned local people set out to do good things within their communities use the tenor and strategy of national politics as a model to get what they want.
My friend Jimmy E. Greene posted this a couple weeks ago, and it tapped into something I think about a lot regarding how we jockey and jostle our places into the changes we want to see:
“I see so many people burning bridges that I know they’ll have to cross again. And the long way around ain’t the best way.”
This “recrossing” of bridges is especially true within our small local communities because of math—there just aren’t that many bridges to choose from.
The scorched earth approach of national politics “works” because the math is big enough to make it work. Burn down a bunch of important bridges and make an army full of enemies and, thanks to the combination of millions of other options and the internet, there is still a critical mass of people willing to be persuaded.
So the prevailing way to win is to burn every bridge to those “not on your side”, identify them The Enemy, destroy their character, say anything even if its incendiary, harmful, and untrue, get your people good and angry to get them motivated, and shout until you get what you want.
But in a local community of only 10 bridges, where can you go when there’s only one left?
Morality and ethics aside, when the smoke clears, small communities simply don’t have the numbers to support that kind of approach.
In a city with ten bridges, if you're really out to do good in the world, bridges will HAVE to be recrossed—whether that’s six months or six years down the road.
A quick win turns into a long-term loss as someone who unfairly demonized every member of a City Council stands in front of them, at THEIR podium, and ask for a vote of “yes”.
A person whose reputation dragged for some extra clout during an election cycle ends up being the critical piece of an important partnership.
It goes on.
Morality and ethics aside, it’s just poor strategy. Friends close and enemies closer, they say. Sooner or later, the most tool to create change are the relationships you have, and unless there’s a strategic advantage to ending one, they're better kept in a back pocket.
Morality and ethics included, it’s just, well….icky and gross. After the little bit of fun and a cigarette, you'll get an entire walk of shame down to your local coffee shop to ask, “I got what I wanted…but was it worth it?”
On the spectator side, imagine waking up every day powerless to a world seemingly infatuated with hating itself...and then see your neighbor across the street, a guy at church, or someone within your city government acting the same way towards your own community?
Icky.
Gross.
While we can’t control how the world behaves, we can control how we behave, and that's part of the beauty of local politics.
We're not trying to revolutionize the Republican party—we have to be nicer on Facebook.
We're not trying to reinvent the democratic process—we're just trying to not lie about our neighbor.
And that at its best, if we want a want better, happier, more equitable, safer world, the people and places within our city limits are the best place to start.
Nothing icky and gross about that.