Give a Little Grace

(Source: Flickr/Jon Viscott.)

At minimum, every good story needs at least four characters in order to work: a hero, a villain (or some kind of obstacle), a guide, and helpers. As we all know, life itself makes for the best stories, so it follows that these four main characters can be found in “real life,” too, not just in the movies. In no rigid or particular order, we may find ourselves encountering (or even becoming) each of these four characters within the various spheres of life and the various relational roles we inhabit.

Personally, I’ve found that being able to identify these four elements at any given season of life adds a sense of meaning and adventure to the world, even when it comes to the most granular, ordinary affairs. Even if it’s just a matter of getting all the chores and errands done and making dinner on time, in one way or another, we are all heroes on an adventure of personal growth. Thinking this way can infuse the smallest affairs of life with an extra layer of meaning.

As I’ve explored before in a past piece about inner resistance, this “hero’s journey” can be especially useful if you’re getting involved in your city on the local level. While we may not be heroes in the life-saving, cape-wearing sense of the word, helping our cities become more beautiful and resilient is truly an adventure. It usually doesn’t take long before you start finding helpers and guides; it’s also not long before you meet a few villains or sources of resistance. That might look like politicians who are invested in the status quo, department heads who are afraid to test new ideas, or staffers who are committed to upholding the bureaucratic processes and norms that give them job security.

As I’ve started getting involved in Waco, Texas, and thinking about cities in general, I find myself wanting, perhaps for the sake of interpretive simplicity, to categorize the various characters I meet along the way. It’s easy to label all of these folks representing “The City” as “The Villain” in our story—and perhaps that’s a well-founded sentiment, given the general pattern of urbanist history (heroic citizen vs. resistant politician). We must realize, of course, that exceptions abound: plenty of innovative, courageous public leaders are hard at work, but these are generally the exception, not the rule.

Yet, as anyone involved in any meaningful community-level change knows, broad labels hardly succeed at capturing the nuanced nature of reality, including people. Something I’ve appreciated about living in Waco is how easy it’s been to get involved with “political” conversations. As an outsider (from New York, of all places), I expected much more resistance, more of a “you’re not from here, East-Coaster” response.

Surprisingly, that hasn’t been the case at all, which has meant a chance to quickly get to know many people who work for the city, whether as an elected official or a staffer. Along the way, I’ve found that quick labels (i.e., “friend” or “foe”) don’t work. Most of the people “running” the city have a mixed attitude toward their town and toward new ideas. The reality behind what drives their work is much more complex than not liking new ideas or the people proposing them. The reality is, their work is shaped by a complicated combination of personal knowledge, industry standards, political goals, and limited resources.

Some Real-Life Examples

Earlier this month, I attended a meeting hosted by our region’s MPO. It was a chance to hear the ideas being pitched by several cities competing for funds as part of the MPO’s Carbon Reduction Program. I and others had worked on the criteria for the applications, so this was a fun chance to see our work in action. In all, three cities pitched five ideas, including two projects for more trees, one for an improved pedestrian signalization, another for a speeding flasher to try and reduce the number of hit and runs on a busy street, and one for increased micromobility. 

Listening to these presentations, I was struck by a few things. First, I was surprised to discover a genuine desire to make life better for residents. The case for trees, for example, was one of those issues I would have suspected to fall under the, “surely no one in the city cares about this,” category, but I was quite wrong. Listening to our Streets Department Manager, I learned that actually trees really do matter. Waco is extremely hot in the summer; for residents like myself who like to commute by bike or those who have to take public transit, what an encouragement to know that the need for improved shade matters to “folks at the top.” 

So, good ideas exist, but here’s a second takeaway: these good intentions and ideas often get caught up in a complicated tangle of budget shortages, compliance expectations, and industry rules that dramatically shape (and sometimes limit) what departments can implement. For example, listening to a neighboring city’s police chief pitch a traffic radar trailer, my first instinct was to write down a bunch of critical questions, thinking specifically about everything we know about the relationship between speeding drivers and the design of a street. For instance: how exactly would informing a reckless driver of their speed force through this tracker force them to slow down? Wouldn’t installing a behavior-shifting design feature like a narrower street or rumble streets be more effective? 

Listening to his answers to my questions, it became clear that this wasn’t a simple case of a department head “refusing” to try incremental traffic calming. The reality is much more complicated. His department wants to do something to tackle hit and runs (the third highest criminal offense in his town), but they’re constrained by extremely limited funds and limited public appetite for “experiments.” 

Here’s a third takeaway: compliance is king. The last pitch of the day was one for funding to increase local micromobility. I was especially excited about this project, but two issues stood out to me: first, the preference for an electric van, and secondly, the integration of accessibility features that would reduce the ridership capacity of each vehicle by 50–75%.

My questions: Given that we’re still assessing the long-term sustainability of electric vehicles and the long-term feasibility of microtransit, wouldn’t it be more cost-efficient to use the diesel vehicles already on hand? Secondly, would it be worth considering integrating ADA-compliant features further down the line when the project was more financially sustainable and we had more data around the demographics of various users (i.e., how many riders are ambulatory and how many use wheelchairs)? 

The TL;DR answer to both questions? To get funding, the agency needed to comply with new standards, either with expectations of electrification on the local level, or with standards of ADA compliance on the federal level. In other words, if this project was going to be funded, it needed to comply. 

Learning to Show Grace

The meeting ended for me with a friendly round of introductions and handshakes, but, more importantly, with a more nuanced view of what it’s like to be on the “front lines” of city government. I still had my questions and critiques, but these encounters challenged me to reevaluate the hastiness with which I might be quick to see elected officials and city staffers as “villains.” Such categorizations can be helpful at some stages in local advocacy (especially when they’re accurate), but they must be balanced by a willingness to understand the complexity and diversity of the real world. 

It’s natural to want to treat politicians, staffers, and department heads with suspicion or with an expectation of resistance. In many cases, such treatment is merited… After all, they really might be the villain. But in other cases, it’s probably the case that their posture towards their city and towards new ideas is a complicated mixed bag. Taking time to graciously see things from their perspective is probably a good place to start.

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