By John Tredrea
These government meetings can run long.
Know what I’m saying? Long!
Lately, in a reflection of our economy I presume, much of the discussion centers around things that may not happen for a long time or may never happen at all.
A senior center. A new village near where Pennytown used to stand. Another plan for the Jacobs Creek bridge, etc. You know the drill.
Yeah, they run long. That’s because everybody who wants to have their say can have their say.
That’s our system: inclusiveness. Giving everybody their say runs into time.
It goes on and on, brothers and sisters. It can fill you with a feeling of futility.
But that’s a delusion, of course. It’s not futility at all. On the contrary, it’s a lesson in patience. That’s democracy, too.
Patience. Give them all their say, over and over and over again. Then we go from there when the last one has had the last say at last.
I don’t sit down much at those meetings. I walk around the room. I walk out into foyer, still listening, for a few minutes, then come back.
Last night (Monday), I took advantage of Hopewell Township doing what the Hopewell Valley school board has been doing for years. I walked around and looked at what was posted on the walls.
On the walls of the township’s municipal auditorium are crayon drawings done by local schoolchildren.
“Going green” is the theme of those drawings.
I looked at all of them Monday night and was so charmed by them. By their fruits, ye shall know them, the old saying goes, and we are looking good because of those pictures.
They have wit, insight, flair, kindness, responsibility, a sense of balance, a vision. They made it all seem worth it.
Democracy can seem so slow because it is slow. Such is the price of inclusiveness, but those pictures showed me Monday night that those kids are so on the right track.
D.H. Lawrence, a writer I admire a great deal, once said something like “the community of artists is the greatest community in the world.”
I saw his words Monday night, in those pictures by kids well under 10 years old.
We can hold our heads up. Those kids are good stuff, come what may.
I’ve seen so many other wonderful pictures in the halls of the school district’s administration building where I’ve been going to cover school board meetings for, oh, a quarter-century now.
It goes on and on, brothers and sisters. It can fill you with a feeling of futility.
But that’s a delusion, of course. It’s not futility at all. On the contrary, it’s a lesson in patience. That’s democracy, too.
Patience. Give them all their say, over and over and over again. Then we go from there when the last one has had the last say at last.
I don’t sit down much at those meetings. I walk around the room. I walk out into foyer, still listening, for a few minutes, then come back.
Last night (Monday), I took advantage of Hopewell Township doing what the Hopewell Valley school board has been doing for years. I walked around and looked at what was posted on the walls.
On the walls of the township’s municipal auditorium are crayon drawings done by local schoolchildren.
“Going green” is the theme of those drawings.
I looked at all of them Monday night and was so charmed by them. By their fruits, ye shall know them, the old saying goes, and we are looking good because of those pictures.
They have wit, insight, flair, kindness, responsibility, a sense of balance, a vision. They made it all seem worth it.
Democracy can seem so slow because it is slow. Such is the price of inclusiveness, but those pictures showed me Monday night that those kids are so on the right track.
D.H. Lawrence, a writer I admire a great deal, once said something like “the community of artists is the greatest community in the world.”
I saw his words Monday night, in those pictures by kids well under 10 years old.
We can hold our heads up. Those kids are good stuff, come what may.
I’ve seen so many other wonderful pictures in the halls of the school district’s administration building where I’ve been going to cover school board meetings for, oh, a quarter-century now.
Each group of pictures they’ve shown has always had a theme — not one of which I can remember right now, senior moment there —- but they have been a great pleasure for me to see. They give you patience and hope.
Thanks, kids. And to your folks who helped you be that way.
Thanks, kids. And to your folks who helped you be that way.
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