One Tired Community Activist

October was a busy month for me, at least for my community activist persona. There were a lot of deadlines, a lot of consultants to talk to, a lot of plans to make, a lot of meetings, a lot a lot a lot. This kind of work does not have the immediacy and sizzle of the coming federal indictments (presumably for Rove, Libby, et al), the Philly city council indictments, and so on, but it is the necessary prep work for knitting the community fabric. It is tedious and always has to be paid foreward. You work on something for years and suddenly it is an overnight success.

The hardest part of it for me is the social face required. I stop by a local government office to drop something off, pick something up, or ask a question, and have a oh-so-friendly chat with an official that would just as soon I fell off the edge of the world or into a fissure in the earth. It isn't personal. I could be anybody. They probably don't remember my name as soon as I leave the room. I stop at construction sites and say "Hey, guys, how's it going?" and they smile and nod and wonder how much fun it would be to run over me with a backhoe. Again, it isn't personal. They know I'm there to check up on them or see if things are being done as Organization X or Group Y that I have been working with wants things to be done. They would rather not have the oversight and suggestions and the nagging that is sure to come if things aren't being done as they should be. I know it and they know it and yet we smile at each other and exchange pleasantries even as we are both eyeing the "must be saved" tree their machinery has just girdled and therefore killed.

Government says it wants citizen involvement and, in theory, it does, but we are always, to some extent, trouble, or at least present extra work. I know that. The official shaking my hand and telling me how wonderful my work is would rather be home with his/her family or somewhere, anywhere, else. Actually, so would I. And yet, these encounters are necessary for things to get done.

It is one of the odd dances we do in this life, and one of my least favorite. And yet, tomorrow I will be doing it again (somewhere in between the job and the family and hopefully some meals and sleep).