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Commentary: From the Editor
By Diane Dorney
My neighbor Elly and I walk in together to City Hall.
I'm glad she is with me. It doesn't matter how many times I've come through
these doors; I always feel a little bit intimidated.
We walk up the hall and check out the sign-up list, which is on the small
table with the coffee pot just outside the doors to the City Council's
chambers. Hmm - not too bad. Looks like there isn't going to be a huge
crowd like we expected. We both kind of let a little air out.
She signs up to speak; I do the same.
Inside the doors a few techies are getting the cameras ready. Our city
meetings are televised live on a local cable station and then are repeated
throughout the following weeks. The Council members and mayor are making
small talk up front while the audience settles in.
I look to see where we might sit. Good, an aisle seat. Images of me tripping
over someone's feet on the way to the microphone have gone through my
mind more than once at these meetings. We make our way in. I see a few
people I know - good guy, bad guy, good guy, good guy, good guy ... It's
looking promising.
The meeting is called to order.
Our mayor explains that everyone will get three minutes to speak during
citizen's forum. "I have a stopwatch," he says. Ahhh, the pressure
of it all.
I tell myself I've done this before. There was the school boundary battle,
the deer thing, the fight to keep the Target out, the fight to keep live/works
in, and many other issues that got me riled up enough to try to do something
about it. I shouldn't be this nervous. At times, I've gone just to listen
and if all seemed to be going well I stayed in my seat. But I've found
over the years that this isn't the best thing to do. You've made the effort
- get up and say your piece. Numbers matter.
Just before the mayor announces the first name off the list, the door
to the hall opens and I see two people enter, then two more, and then,
oh no, four more! It's the other side, and they've come armed with stacks
of papers. Why didn't we think of bringing some sort of paper? Is that
a handout? Oh, Lord, I hate it when they bring handouts.
Elly and I look at each other. This isn't good. They are going to have
the benefit of speaking last - a tactical error on our part. A fleeting
thought crosses my mind that we should go out and mess with the list.
Nope, too late. I see the list being taken up front. Oh well, nothing
we can do about it now.
The first name is announced. One by one each person walks up to the microphone
to speak for their allotted three minutes. Several others testify for
our side before me, and I make some last minute changes to what I was
going to say - some of it has been covered enough already. I get through
my testimony without any major glitches, thank goodness; Elly does her
bit as well. We are making a very good case, I think. Nods from the Council
members - that's good. Six or so other people speak on behalf of the same
thing Elly and I did. One or two take the other position. Not bad. That's
it for the sign-up list.
The mayor looks over the crowd. "Is there anyone else who would like
to speak?" he says.
Please, please, no more speakers, I'm thinking to myself. Things are looking
so good.
No such luck. One by one the latecomers march up to the microphone and
make their case, just as eloquently as we did. Those darn handouts get
turned in to the Council. I can tell they are making an impact. The Council
is nodding again. It's not over yet, though. A decision is not made tonight.
I write myself a note - "come later next time; bring handouts."
Diane Dorney is editor and publisher of The Town Paper and former president
of the Kentlands Citizen's Assembly.
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