Unsolicited Testimony

I’ve been a little hesitant to post about some of the things I do regularly, but I’m going to try to open up more about them.

I do a lot of civic work. A lot. And since I’ve been on sabbatical, I’ve been doing a little more than normal. I don’t do it because I want glory, my name in a history book, a statue, or a park named after me. I genuinely want to see the neighborhood thrive. The train work is one thing, but bringing that kind of advocacy to quality-of-life issues has opened up a different set of problems.

This month I went to city council to speak a few times. Most recently, I spoke in support of a right-to-air-conditioning ordinance. Our super neighborhood supported it, and it’s my job as president to speak when residents support something. My council member didn’t recognize me at all, not even a thank you for coming. I got text messages from civic groups all over the city about how he hadn’t acknowledged a super neighborhood president. To me, it was par for the course. But I have to keep going regardless of what he does.

A couple of days later, someone who had been antagonizing me on social media came after me again, this time accusing me of stealing neighborhood money to pay my personal bills. It came completely out of left field. This person has never shown up to a single one of my meetings, has never asked a question, and isn’t a member. To attack my character without a shred of truth behind it was a bit much. I’ve never even requested reimbursement for purchases I’ve made for the organization, let alone taken dollars to pay my own bills. And we share what we spend money on.

Talking to my therapist, it’s been interesting to trace the connection between my character being attacked and the work itself being diminished, how it feels like an attempt to erase me.

It’s so easy to scream online. It’s so much harder to identify a problem and find a solution. It’s easy to be an armchair quarterback when you have little to no education on the issues and the constraints, or when you never come to the meetings to learn more. I spend hundreds of hours a year in meetings, simply learning, taking notes, collaborating with civic-minded neighbors.

To get punched over and over for volunteering to improve your neighborhood is hard. I ask myself if I just have thin skin. I don’t think I do. I’m pretty tough; I take on the railroads all the time. And oddly, in defense of the railroads, they don’t publicly attack my integrity or my character.

I’ve been reflecting on how I’ve always wanted to help people. In junior high and high school, I’d finish my homework during class most of the time and then turn around and help someone else. Some students couldn’t afford flute lessons, so I’d stay after school to play with them and help them practice. That’s been consistent my whole life. I enjoy helping others, not for glory but because I believe in people and think we should help each other succeed.

It’s been a hard week of punches, after months of being publicly antagonized by an elected official. All I can do is take a breath, dust myself off, and keep doing the right thing, even when it all just sucks.