Public Service on a Gravel Road
Montana, not North Dakota, but close enough.
The first time I remember knowing such a thing as “government” existed was when my parents hosted township meetings at our house. If you’re not familiar with a township, it is a civic unit of government within a county. Because I lived in rural North Dakota, our township had just a handful of residents, and people took turns serving in the required board roles. The main order of township business always seemed to involve grading the gravel road that connected our houses to the highway.
There’s no doubt in my mind that the township is where I started internalizing the definition of public service that I still hold onto. I see elected officials as fiduciaries—a word you usually hear in financial terms, but in government its meaning is similar. A fiduciary is someone who holds a legal or ethical relationship of trust in any situation where another person is seeking help or advice (or governance).
This all comes to mind because tomorrow is the first Tuesday of November. Also known as election day. My kids were home to visit this weekend, and they both brought up politics and voting in the communities where they live now. I am incredibly proud of them for taking an interest in their elected officials as part of their acclimation to a new town.
My older son moved to a new state over the summer. Along with registering to vote, he signed up for various elected officials’ enewsletters to get a sense of their personalities and positions. And I know he reads them, because he told me about the inconsistencies and seeming contradictions in one of the U.S. Senator’s missives. He will be voting there for the first time tomorrow.
As for my younger son, he will be serving as an election judge from before sunup until long after sundown. Initially he wasn’t going to sign up because Tuesdays are his busiest class day, but he and his fellow poll workers are all on an email thread, and the other folks were they are talking about how excited they are to get together, even though they are all from different sides of the “political divide.” I thought it was wonderful of them to make him—a 19-year-old college sophomore from across the state—feel welcome and valued.
We often tease this son that he has been interested in public service since before his birth. I was volunteering on a city housing committee when I was pregnant with him. Like the township board back in my childhood, the committee met in members’ homes. I happened to be hosting the meeting eight days before his due date … and my water broke just as we were adjourning. Apparently he had something to say that couldn’t wait!
He plans to earn a major in public policy, and he will casually drop names (like 1800s Supreme Court Justice) John Marshall at random times—like out on a hike. I wouldn’t have even known who that was except that I’d just been listening to this interview where they talk about how influential the decisions made 200 years ago are turning out to be now.
Sometimes we talk about who my sons will vote for, but not always. I trust that their decisions will be thoughtful and informed. Besides, elections aren’t about your candidate winning. They’re about how well we come together as a body of people being governed.
There’s nothing on the ballot in my town this election cycle, so I won’t be going to the polls. But last week I attended my first city government meeting here. (After 12 years, it was about time!!) I was there to be a friendly face for an acquaintance who was speaking in favor of an alderman’s resolution against changing state law to make it harder for voters to initiate the petition process (as they are doing for gerrymandering currently). Its title on the agenda was “A RESOLUTION AFFIRMING THE IDEALS OF ALLOWING MATTERS OF STATEWIDE INTEREST TO BE SUBMITTED TO THE VOTERS OF THE STATE OF MISSOURI.” Yes, in all caps. But that was as close as it got to shouting. There was no direct mention of political parties, even though everyone knew the resolution was in opposition to the Republican governor and supermajority legislature.
The only drama at the city meeting turned out to be about traffic calming measures in my neighborhood. The backstory: Half a million vehicles per year travel the main thoroughfare of my subdivision, which averages out to just under 1,400 per day. Many of those cars speed, and the city is trying to figure out the best strategy to get them to slow down. About a dozen people who live in my subdivision attended the meeting to make public comments. One woman in particular really laid into her representative and the police chief. But most of the others were civil, and the board eventually agreed to delay their next action and study the issue in more depth. The residents went home satisfied.
I’m not hot under the collar about traffic circles and speed bumps on my streets—but the topic took me back to my childhood.
It made me think about national politicians in the U.S. Surveys show that few of us have any confidence in them as fiduciaries. I bet they couldn’t even agree to get a gravel road graded.