On Learning to Not Avoid “Politics”

(Photo by Helena Lopes on Unsplash.)

Meet Tiffany and hear from other Strong Towns Creators on a panel at our upcoming National Gathering, May 30-31 in Charlotte, NC. Learn more here.

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Not long ago, I was sitting outside a café in downtown Waco, Texas, taking a break from work to catch a few moments in the sun. A lady I recognized from our local MPO (Metropolitan Planning Organization) office walked up and waved with a smile. I offered the chair across from me, glad for a chance to talk to another person rather than staring at my screen. “We thought you left Waco!” she said at one point, reflecting on my months-long absence from transit-related meetings. 

Last year, in an effort to understand local transit efforts better, I had made a point of going to various meetings organized by the MPO and other agencies. I didn’t really know what I was doing; I didn’t even know what an MPO was. (As I know now, it’s a government agency that coordinates regional transportation planning and allocates federal funding for transportation projects.)

I just wanted to try something. Participation slowed down after I got married because I moved farther away from downtown, but mostly because I had hit a wall: going to all these meetings hadn’t improved my feeling of “doing something” to make transit in Waco better. So I more or less slipped into a “pause” which felt more like a “freeze.”

The Problem 

When thinking about public engagement, I’m sure I’m not the only one to experience this. Sometimes grassroots public participation feels a little bit like landing a plane. The view from 30,000 feet is beautiful, and everything seems clear. As you descend gently over geometric plots of land, winding roads and neat neighborhoods, cities seem (for a change) easy to understand. It may also seem easy to spot problems and possible ways to apply the various wonderful ideas we’ve come across in books, articles and podcasts. As we drop down to 10,000 feet, maybe we start to feel charged up with inspiration. But as we get closer to the ground—5,000 feet, 1,000, 100—things become a little fuzzy. Wait, what is an MPO? What is that Department? Who runs this agency? Who is in charge of this? 

All of a sudden, everything feels just a little bit confusing. The city that once seemed so neat now feels overwhelming. The ideas that once seemed so straightforward in the books and podcasts suddenly feel like pipe dreams. Figuring out how to get started, let alone actually attach your efforts to a meaningful project and see results, seems like the challenge of the century.  

Three “Pillars” of Participation 

Shortly before this encounter outside the café, I had hopped on the phone with Emma Durand-Wood, another Strong Towns writer who has had more progress getting involved at the local level than me. I didn’t have an agenda for the call. I just knew I was frustrated and almost desperate. I had been living in Waco for three years and still didn’t feel like I had a few central activities that I could commit to on a regular basis and that felt connected to making Waco a stronger town. 

Emma graciously listened and asked a few clarifying questions, one of which was utterly simple: “What do you think is your biggest challenge?” Sitting in the car waiting for the laundry to finish, I stared out the window. It took me a while, but I finally found the answer. 

Meaningful participation, it seems to me, requires at least three things to come together, besides personal drive and belief that this work matters.

First, we need to really see our cities. Taking walks, exploring other neighborhoods, switching up our means of transportation, meeting neighbors and local business owners: these are the kinds of actions that can help us go beyond our “automatic” experiences of our city based on familiarity and really look at it through the lens of resilience, safety, and beauty. Part of this step involves wrestling with more philosophical questions like “What is the purpose of the city?” 

Second, we have to learn how to interpret that landscape… and that’s where the blogs, articles and podcasts come in. Learning about infill development, parking minimums, or public finance are all exercises in interpreting the built environment, looking at it through the “histories, policies and practices” lens, trying to understand how our particular city came to have its unique built form and identity. This is the learning phase. It’s an important phase because it equips us to assess how well our community is achieving its purpose (see step #1) and to identify opportunities for improvement. 

But knowing your city and understanding the issues is not enough. At some point, you have to roll up your sleeves and start getting involved. This is the third pillar and perhaps the most challenging because it’s where “rubber meets the road” so to speak. It’s easy to explore your city and to read about various issues. It’s another thing to start applying principles and ideas to your local context. 

This work requires learning to navigate your city’s unique political landscape, both in terms of learning the processes that govern how your city runs and the systems that determine how change happens. This is where activities like attending council meetings, volunteering on a board, or grabbing coffee with local stakeholders come in. It’s the part of the job that requires the most patience and for which there is no shortcut nor quick payoff. It can be the most frustrating part of the job, but it can also be the most rewarding. Through these conversations and activities, you’ll start to build relationships and get to know the story of your city from an entirely different perspective. 

My Blind Spot

Back to Emma’s question then: What was my biggest challenge? Perhaps this was it: I had underestimated the value of understanding my city’s political landscape and had basically avoided it altogether. To be honest, I didn’t want to understand that side of things. It can be frustrating dealing with the confusing jargon, red tape, bureaucratic processes and lack of interdepartmental coordination. I wanted to work on fun bottom up projects. But as I’m sure every grassroots organizer will tell you, at some point you have to integrate your goals and visions with your city’s political infrastructure. 

I hadn’t really prepared for this, which is how I found myself “burning out” after just a few months of meetings. That’s not to say public governance couldn’t improve from less bureaucracy, less fragmentation, or better responsiveness, but it is to say that maybe the way forward was for me to adjust my pace and expectations. Advocating for stronger cities is not just about the issues; it really is about the people. Change happens not by ideas alone but through relationships and conversations. 

An Encouragement 

It took me a moment to process the comment I had just heard: “We thought you had left Waco!” But over the next few moments of our impromptu meeting, it became clear to me that those few scattered meetings I had attended, the few comments I had volunteered and the one time I volunteered to edit a document for a new program: they had actually meant something. This was reiterated at a later meeting with the MPO director who emphasized the same thing: ordinary people shouldn’t underestimate the power of their presence. Most city departments and agencies never hear from everyday residents. 

Coming to meetings, giving feedback, volunteering to help with a project… it all counts. 

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