One Note We Can Send for a Healthier Democracy
The whole experience was so smooth, it’d be easy to forget. The mind has a way of remembering the bumpy and rough stuff.
I went to the town clerk’s office to vote early. The woman behind the desk explained how it worked to me like I was the very first voter of the season. Which I certainly wasn’t. Early voting had started the week prior.
And this was the same woman who made getting my dog license a breeze. Who was tender and respectful when I needed copies of my mother’s death certificate.
I handed her my ballot. “Want one?” she asked with a grin, holding out the iconic red, white, and blue I VOTED TODAY sticker on the tip of her forefinger.
“You bet!” I stuck it on my jacket and off I went.
Government is like electricity: we tend to only think about it when it’s not working. It’s normal to be irked by erratic postal delivery, but make not one peep when the mail’s showing up at our door just fine.
Most public servants who aren’t elected officials don't make policy; their job is to implement it. And when folks aren’t crazy about that policy, public servants can become the public’s punching bags. Especially when trust is low and anxiety is high.
Few among us are delighted to be at the DMV, and might show more than a little prickliness to the employees there.
It’s easy to take our annoyance about missing curbside leaf pickup out on the dump employee, especially when those leaves in the trunk of our car are starting to smell pretty funky.
Librarians can get an earful when the library has to close on Sundays because of funding cuts. Or the wifi is down. Or someone is being a little too chatty in the stacks.
Most staffers for politicians only hear from constituents when the constituents are royally ticked.
Let’s imagine democracy as like a train. We the people decide where it should go by voting particular politicians into office.
Politicians decide the best way to get there (though we may disagree on the route) by passing bills.
And public servants make sure the train tracks are clear and usable, the wheels are in workable condition, the conductor gets paid, the freight is properly stored, animals aren’t hiding out in the engine room.
Democracy cannot run without public servants.
They are the unsung (often unseen) people who keep the sewers running and the water drinkable; who plow the roads and send up weather balloons to give us a forecast; who inspect meatpacking plants and drive city buses.
They are democracy’s quiet stewards. And I’d bet more than a few feel pretty demoralized these days. Today, I’m writing a long overdue valentine of thanks to the city clerk’s office. It’ll take me just a few minutes, but I bet it’ll stand out for more than a few minutes to her - those kinds of notes don’t come in all too often.
So my invitation to you: join me in writing a thank you to a public servant who’s left you a little better than they found you.
Could be a town councilor who heard you out about property taxes when you saw her at the grocery store. The children’s librarian who is so terrific with your kiddo. The Senator’s staffer who answers the phone with a warm hello.
I’d bet the bank they made that impression on us because they cared. And our democracy could use all the care it can get right now. How wonderful that something as simple as gratitude can help keep caring public servants in the game.