Where’s the Accountability in ODOT's I-475 Expansion Project?
I-475 in Toledo, OH. (Source: Flickr/Doug Kerr.)
Peggy Daly-Masternak learned of the Ohio Department of Transportation’s (ODOT’s) plans to widen Interstate 475 in Toledo, Ohio, by accident. Even though the interstate runs right past her front door, she never received official notice from ODOT. Instead, a councilmember she befriended years ago forwarded her an agency newsletter. She was especially struck by how heavily the newsletter encouraged public participation. “Excessively so,” according to Daly-Masternak.
“They could not have been more emphatic about how they wanted public engagement. I mean, they just went out of their way to make it seem like the public was going to have a part in this,” she added. “Except nobody in the neighborhood got this at all. And they know our addresses from the last time they tried doing this.”
If it weren’t for the relationship she forged with that councilmember, she wouldn’t have gotten word about the plans, either, despite the fact that they’re slated to transform the world right outside her front door.
A similar project fell through several years ago. While some locals like to speculate that their resistance dealt the final blow, it was most likely thwarted by the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic. In any case, Daly-Masternak and her neighbors were relieved when those plans fizzled. That is, until she read between the lines in this latest ODOT newsletter.
Now that the expansion was back on the table, Daly-Masternak was eager to get involved on the ground floor. She wrote to the ODOT Public Information Officer, asking, among several questions, why she and her neighbors were kept in the dark about these plans. In response, she was assured that ODOT has identified a team of stakeholders tasked with representing the community, sharing local updates with the project team, and providing input on project elements. However, Daly-Masternak wasn’t told exactly who has been identified as a stakeholder. At most, she’s told that the individuals chosen include elected officials, local business owners, church community members, and so on.
“So if I'm a concerned citizen, who do I turn to if I don't have a specific name or even a location?” she asks. “Even if I wanted this project to move forward, I wouldn’t know who to get in touch with.”
Frustrated by the opaqueness, she eventually filed a public records request and nearly a month later, received a list of 82 names. First, she noticed that several names belong to individuals who either no longer reside in the region or never have. A former rabbi at the local synagogue was listed despite having relocated three years ago. Representatives from companies located in Atlanta and Chicago seemingly had more seats at the table than the locals.
Next, Daly-Masternak was surprised by the handful of names she did recognize on the list, so she called them up. Phone call after phone call, she was met with surprise. Some knew they were listed as a stakeholder for the incipient ODOT project, but the fact that so many didn’t roused concern. “It's almost as if they said, ‘Uh-oh, we need to come up with a list; let's open the Yellow Pages and see who we can add,’” she said.
Finally, some names she’d expect to see were absent from the list. She wondered—and openly asked during one of ODOT’s public meetings—why some elected leaders were included and not others, especially considering the territory they represented. She didn’t receive an answer she found satisfactory.
Daly-Masternak did not expect to encounter this much confusion when she first inquired about the project’s stakeholders. With her confidence that those on the list could serve as an avenue of communication shattered, she decided: why not figure out how to become a stakeholder, herself. After all, ODOT “went out of its way” to encourage public participation.
Nowhere online was there a form or a deadline. Neither was there any information on how to apply or an email address to contact with any questions. Luckily, a public information session was coming up. To her surprise, at the session she was told there was a sign-up sheet upon entry. Doubtful she missed it, she returned to the front desk only to see a sheet of paper that was flipped, so that it faced downwards.
“I’m signing up to be a stakeholder,” she told the person at the desk. She recalls being met with confusion. “Every time I said the term, I received looks as if nobody knew what I was talking about,” she added. In any case, Daly-Masternak signed her name and provided her contact information on the sheet. As of this writing, she hasn’t yet heard back from anyone.
Across ODOT’s materials and in its public meetings, hearings, and information sessions, representatives from the agency repeatedly underscored how valuable community input would be in the project’s progress. They likewise encouraged “getting involved as early as possible,” Daly-Masternak said. Yet, in her experience, the agency is saying one thing and is doing another. She could not have been more diligent, gotten in touch any earlier, asked questions any sooner, nor been any more proactive.
As a seasoned activist, she didn’t assume her hand would be held and guided, but she didn’t expect to run into so many walls. “I can only see this as a public relations gimmick,” she concluded. “And it still amuses me that even if I wanted this to move forward, they don’t make it easy for me to get involved.”
Asia (pronounced “ah-sha”) Mieleszko serves as a Staff Writer for Strong Towns. A dilettante urbanist since adolescence, she's excited to convert a lifetime of ad-hoc volunteerism into a career. Her unconventional background includes directing a Ukrainian folk choir, pioneering synaesthetic performances, photographing festivals, designing websites, teaching, and ghostwriting. She can be found wherever Wi-Fi is reliable, typically along Amtrak's Northeast Corridor.