Town Meeting Comes Shrink-Wrapped this Year.
March 11, 2010, page 8

Hey, with no bottom line it’s hard to know wrong from right But I ain’t ever satisfied . . . I expect the worst, but I hope for the best Oh, I ain’t ever satisfied . . .
-John Mellencamp, I Ain’t Ever
Satisfied

Stephen Brooks caught me outside Charlotte Central after the morning session at Town Meeting. “Edd,” he said with an inquisitive look on his face, “Was that really a town meeting we were in this morning or was it group therapy? I don’t think I’ve ever seen such intense scrutiny of the articles before and such an emotional response to dollars.”

I had to agree with him. Not only was the old gym packed with townsfolk – full west bleachers and all – but people seemed engaged in the discussion of matters to a depth that I found uncharacteristic in my 30 years of attending such festivities.

Very few gathered around display tables in the hallway outside the gym. The pamphlets and pictures appeared lonely as people went inside to hear the discussion. I even found the men’s room locked. I discovered that was because I didn’t know my way to it through the locker room. It took me 25 years to find the potty?

Driving into Burlington for an afternoon appointment, I mulled over what Stephen and I had discussed, and the more I thought about it, the more I felt what we were seeing expressed in Charlotte was some of the global anxiety that had overcome much of America. Washington, Afghanistan, Iran, Pakistan, Beijing, Sudan – we’ve heard so much about these places with people whose minds and cultures work so differently from ours. I think local folk may have asked themselves, subconsciously, over and over, “Where and how can I make an impact on something which I feel affects me directly and in which I might see a result of my action?”

Times aren’t good, economically or socially. Does Town Meeting really provide more than the few standard inquisitors the opportunity to voice their opinions? This year it seemed to. Oh yes, there were the usual voices from the floor, those whom we know will annually bring out budget minutia for discussion. But, this time, glancing around the room as people spoke, I sensed an intensity in the audience I had not remembered in the past.

The sentiment was not verbalized directly other than through several pleas to keep budgets and taxes down. “Are we as a town willing to endure the pain that individuals are feeling? Are we willing to endure budget cuts that will meet the abilities of people to pay?” Yet, that feeling of a certain degree of helplessness underlay much of what people were asking and commenting on.
I don’t know whether it was symbolic, but the more heated the discussion from the floor, the faster the skirting underneath the Selectboard’s table on the stage unraveled and dropped off its moorings.

Trust in government, an issue that resonates on a national level, was being broached in Charlotte. Once people considered reducing the proposed budget to last year’s level, questions arose as to who should make the cuts – we the people or our elected officials.

My hunch is that in the past, handing over the task to the board would have met little resistance. This year I sensed unease with America’s status globally leaking through to small town matters. There were comments to the effect of, “This is the peoples’ town, and we ought to decide where we’ll take our hits.” Trust placed in those we elected to do the job seemed to have dropped a couple of rungs on the ladder of governance, not because committees and boards hadn’t done thorough jobs already, but because Town Meeting provided an opportunity, waning in so many other forums, for individuals to be heard.

A number of people saw the bowl of interactive democracy still sitting on the table but evaporating rapidly, a fading piece of the past that advancing technology hadn’t yet swept aside. They wanted a spoonful now because they weren’t sure what it would taste like next year. It may not be long before we’re confronted with communication inroads among constituents that haven’t been devised yet, and Town Meeting – well, who knows, will we gather on iPods?

In any event, I sensed something different about this year’s meeting from those in years past. I’m thankful that we still hold it. A recent commentary in the Stowe Reporter suggests that it may soon be outmoded in that town due to lack of interest. I asked friends from Shelburne whether they had gone to theirs and got a curious look of why bother?

Heck, I’ll sit through community psychotherapy any day as long as I know there’s pulled pork and hot dogs waiting in the wings.