Participation prizes of a different kind 

There are elections across the U.S. this week. Being an off year there was no big media push to vote for this candidate or to repudiate that one. Our ballots were minimalist. A couple governors, a smattering of mayors, and, in the case of my little burg, a city commission seat was up for grabs.  

For the uninitiated, let me point out that I am a spectator of politics with a verve similar to those who follow sports on a weekly basis. I’ve served with great satisfaction in appointed and elected office in the past. I may do it again one day, too. You can never tell.  

Serving in office is something of a family tradition, I suppose. I’ve got a brother who has been on his town council in New England for well over a decade. My daughter once ran for municipal office. A race she lost, but benefitted from immensely. My grandfather’s older brother sat on the Pinellas County Commission in Florida for many years. There have even been a number of Becketts elected to Parliament in England. Most recently it was Margaret Beckett — although not all of the British Becketts served with the distinction she has.  

Just this past week, a local politician whose name was on the ballot in my town was asking around town for volunteers to stand on street corners waving campaign signs on the Saturday prior to the election. This is a common practice. A bit dull for the sign wavers, perhaps, but not every consequential position necessarily feels particularly exciting or special. This is simply a chance to help a candidate. No more, no less.  

A wide variety of folks agreed. They stood on those corners waving signs, doing their part. In some cases, they stood right beside the candidate, who spent the better part of the day doing exactly what he’d been asking supporters to do.  

The candidate asked for help from a widely diverse group of people. After all, over the course of a political campaign a serious candidate might meet thousands of people. It pays to shake hands, or in the COVID era, fist bump a bunch of potential supporters and engage them in conversation.  

The request went out to ministers and business owners, housewives and store clerks. The ask was open and hopeful. In effect, “Will you help me? I would appreciate it.”  

That’s as neighborly and polite as politics gets. This is the flavor I like best.  

The net was cast wide and included a request to a bunch of high school students, some of whom belong to a flying club I work with. A handful of those students agreed. After all, this was the first time they’ve been asked to participate in a political campaign and the entire effort was only going to take a couple hours. “Why not?” they reasoned.  

What caught my attention however was not the small number of people who agreed to help. I was more intrigued by the larger group who refused. Specifically, the teenagers who declined to participate and the reasons they abstained from participating in the process.  

More than a few said their parents wouldn’t let them get involved, or would be displeased if they participated even peripherally in a campaign. Some just shrugged, indicating they didn’t see the point. A smaller number just moved on without saying anything, apparently not thinking the request was deserving of their time or attention.  

I learned a valuable lesson when I was serving in office: The line of constituents with a complaint is long and enthusiastic. Often impolite. Even abusive. Conversely the line of constituents who are offering a helping hand, or better yet, a potential solution to a problem – that line is very, very short.  

Which constituents get more frequent access to office holders, do you suppose? Which are more carefully listened to?  

Virtually all of us will want something from the government at some point in our lives. A building variance, a zoning change, a pothole filled, maybe even a commitment to keep a local airport open.  

When that issue arises, which line do you want to be standing in? 

Participation has its benefits. Not to the extent that we citizens, or the candidates we support, can or should bend the rules to favor our pet projects. That would be wrong. It is wrong. But there is a wide spectrum of possibility in life, with many of those possibilities running straight through the Mayor’s office, or the City Commission chambers.  

Fees, public access, and even the willingness of the municipality to keep a facility open, or improve it in some way — all those issues come back at some point to the politician who asked us to help in their time of need. If we refuse, if we show the candidate a cold shoulder, is it reasonable of us at a later date to come back and insist the he or she show us a level of support we refused to offer?  

Reciprocation for good or ill is what we can reasonably expect.  

Participation has its benefits. As any political office holder can tell you, the screaming resident hurling insults and demanding action gets far less attention than the friendly face who says, “Hey, wanna grab a cup of coffee? I’ve got a problem I think you can help me with.”  

Regardless of which facet of the community we might come from, if we want to be recognized, if we want to be regarded with respect and given serious consideration, we have to participate in some meaningful way.  

It’s something to think about for next time. Because the next election, the next opportunity to pitch in and make a difference, is never more than a year away.