Dedicated to all the cynical and the down-trodden Hamiltonians I've met...and have yet to meet...

The Story of Town Halls and The Do-Nuthin' Bunch That Decided to Finally Do Something

Once upon a time, a Stranger strolled into a city. He could tell from the moment he arrived that something wasn't quite right; the mood of everyone he met was...off. That they were each having a bad day. But soon enough he realized that it was more than just a 'bad day'.

"What gives?" he asked his Server in the diner he had a late dinner in after spending his first day wandering around the city, dipping into this neighbourhood and that community, venturing far and wide...for that is what a strolling stranger does. Even if he may be sticking around for a while. (Or not.)

A sigh and a shrug...and a faraway stare was her response.

Later, when she brought the bill, she didn't let go of it right away, played tug-o-war with him for a few seconds...then sat down opposite him in the booth. "You have to understand," The Server began, wiping the table with her utility cloth. Back and forth and back and forth, shining it mindlessly... "We're a city with no hope."

"Cities don't have hope," The Stranger winked. "People do."

Rolling her eyes, she began to get up.

"Why no hope?" he asked in a kind, conciliatory way. 

And she explained.

There were ten boroughs in the city. So ten Aldermen. And a Mayor. And though the people voted, they decided who were going to be their elected officials, they still didn't really feel that they were part of their own government. They felt ignored. Unheard.

Because Council did what it wanted. Even though everything was done in the name of the citizens, towards the betterment of the city, very little consultation took place, very little actual dialogue was created.

Now, the Aldermen weren't 'bad' people. (For the most part.) But there just wasn't much of a connection between them and those they served. It was like a marriage where neither spouse said much, they just got on with it. (And we all know what kind of marriages these end up being.)

So the people had given up hoping for things to get better. They expected less...and so weren't all that disapppointed when 'less' was what they were given.

"Sounds like a relationship needing some help," he observed, noting how drained The Server appeared now that her tale had been completed. 

All she could offer was a hard-won sigh. 

"Talking helps."

It was clear she didn't understand.

"Anyone ever try getting together in a room and talking?" The Stranger asked. 

"People come in here and talk all the time. Well, it's more 'bitching and complaining' than 'talking," she conceded. 

"No, I mean both parties in the relationship."

"So an alderman and the people from his borough? In a room? 'Talking' to each other?"

"Sure."

The Server cackled such a loud laugh that everyone in the diner turned to look, forcing her to cover her mouth and shake her head. "That would never work."

The Stranger waited.

"Can't imagine an alderman doing that. Be a bit risky. They'd lynch him. Whoever'd actually show up from the borough, that is. I can't see as most could be bothered. Things are so bad that we've become a 'do-nuthin' bunch of-"

"But it's never been done. So you don't really know."

"No."

"So you've never had- Well, where I come from, they're called 'town hall meetings'."

"We have a town hall," she countered proudly. "Even though we're a city."

"Town hall meetings," The Stranger continued, "where people get to find out from their elected representative -ours are called 'Councillors'- how things are, where they can discuss important topics, ask questions, make suggestions... You'd be amazed at how just constructive engagement...discourse, debate, that sort of thing...can transform a community. How it feels about itself, its lot...its future."

"You really must be from somewhere exotic," The Server said, getting up and shuffling off to complete her shift.

But she was back in two minutes. "Could you help organize one? One of these town hall meetings...?"

And he did.

In his own way.

The next morning at breakfast, The Server sketched out a plan for the server's brother, a Young Man who had about him a crackling energy that transported both his intelligence and determination. As the paper slowly filled with ideas, he sat staring at it.

When The Stranger was done, he turned the page around and slid it across the table to the Young Man.

"That's it?" was the response. "That's going to change things?"

"Well, you have to actually do it. But yes; that's it. That's going to change things. Over time."

Scowling, the Young Man scratched his chin, where a rakish Van Dyke facial growth sat proudly. "How?"

The Stranger sat back and winked. "Give it a go, and you'll see, which will be a much more powerful way than me just explaining it all to you. But in the meantime, I'll share some of the things I've learned about what's bound to happen..."

"Hi," The Stranger said, having walked up to the diner's counter, where The Server was scurrying about keeping things in motion.

"Oh, my goodness!" she cried, putting down a stack of menus and reaching out across the distance between them with extended arms. "It's been such a long time!"

"A year and a half by my reckoning," he laughed, charmed by her impromptu outburst.

She straightened up, shaking her head in delight, then, as if she had a massive amount of energy she needed to release, scuttled away to the doorway behind her. "I need to call my brother!" she cried. "Grab a seat! I'll be right over with a menu! He'll want to talk to you!"

The Stranger was partway through his breakfast when The Young Man strolled in. He watched his approach, took in every aspect of it, then raised his coffee mug in salute. "Something's changed," he mused with a smile.

The Young Man sat down. Saying nothing, he merely nodded.

"Do I finally get to hear the story? Your sister thought it would be better if you told me...seeing as you've been in the middle of it all..."

Clearing his throat, the Young Man began. "We had our first town hall within weeks of you and I talking. I kept it simple. Just like you suggested. We held it in a church. It was organized by the local neighbourhood association. We didn't have a media partner, so we just put up posters and did some door-to-door flyering, mentioned the event on the association's website." Here, the Young Man clearly wanted to strut his pride. "We had seventy-five people show up."

The Stranger smiled.

"I volunteered to be the host. To moderate. It was just me and the alderman sitting on the stage...because I took your advice there, too; I didn't want it to be a trial, I wanted something more comfortable, something more friendly. Something neighbourly."

"And was it? More friendly? More neighbourly?"

"Someone had tried to buttonhole the alderman before we began the evening. Before he'd gotten to the stage. But it wasn't a problem; we just promised to deal with the resident's question during the event. Other than that, yes. It was friendly. We set the tone from the start. We were all good neighbours."

"What were the alderman's expectations? Was he surprised?"

"Yes! He'd expected to get lynched. But once we began, he felt more and more comfortable, so that by the time we got to the 'Questions and Answers' portion, he'd gotten up, walked to the edge of the stage and sat down, right there, even closer to the audience."

The Stranger just smiled some more.

"It was a huge success. I'd invited the local newspaper to cover it, so we were in the paper the next day. After that..." The Young Man continued, staring off into the distance (just like his sister) and shrugging, "things just kept happening."

"Such as...?"

"Good morning, Mayor," a customer happened to call out as he passed their booth.

The Young Man said nothing. But he couldn't hide his beaming face.

"More coffee please!" The Stranger called out. "I think we're gonna be here a while..."

"The alderman in that borough had town halls every two months. Some of them were about perticular issues, some were just residents asking questions and him answering them, some were him introducing some information about future plans, some were the residents presenting proposals to him... After the third meeting, we had to get a new place to hold them, something bigger.

"At first, he was alone in doing them. But slowly, some of his Council-mates realized how powerful the meetings could be, how much good press was to be had...and how fewer altercations there seemed to be with residents. With their voters."

"Some."

"Yeah. Some either paid the idea lip-service, or just didn't do them at all. It was a shock to them when residents held them anyway. Without them. Because they're seen how differently everyone had come to feel about what they could expect from City Hall. Even in the smallest ways, over seemingly insignificant issues, they'd begun to see how much change had been effected just by talking."

"And all this began 18 months ago."

"Yes."

"And you've had an election recently."

"Yes."

"And you ran for Mayor."

"Yes."

"And you won."

"Yes! And I won because I knew how to make town hall meetings work. I understood what you'd told me about communication, about establishing and building relationships, not just withing Council, but with the voters, the residents. My constituents. So thank-you."

"You're welcome. How many Aldermen got re-elected?"

"Of the ten, three. The one who got behind the town halls, and two others. The rest were thrown out."

"That explains why the city feels different than it did when I was here last," The Stranger said.

"Hope," The Young Man explained. "We got our hope back."