Politicizing the Pandemic

My colleagues may be speaking for the very loud minority in St. Louis County that has simply had enough of the pandemic and want the freedom to live like we aren't in the middle of a global pandemic.  But I'm speaking for the majority of St. Louis Countians when I say that we feel better with public health officials issuing orders that keep us safe and ensure that our healthcare infrastructure doesn't collapse under the weight of this pandemic.  

By now we all know someone who has lost a loved one to Covid 19.  990 St. Louis Countians and counting have lost their lives.  

Yet our Council sits week after week after week, poking and prodding at the County Executive, making up laws that don't fit in our systems of government, spreading untruths about what our system of government can and should do, all while 990 of our neighbors have lost their lives.  While our hospitals are packed, and our healthcare workers risk their own lives while struggling to keep up to save lives.  

And we sit fighting about power.  

These questions were asked loudly and vociferously in the weeks leading up to the election, and on November 3rd, 60% of St. Louis County told us who they want in charge of this crisis.  And it wasn't the politicians sitting on the Council.  We have a County that will need re-imagining and rebuilding on the other side of this crisis, and all of our energy is better spent finding solutions than continuing to wage an election that was won on November 3rd.  By Dr. Page.  And me.  

accepting what I can't change

Our last Council meeting lasted 16 hours over 6 days.  We received an unprecedented number of public comments (over 2,200, when our prior record was probably 400-ish) in response to a debate all across the state and country: who should be in charge of this pandemic.

In my view, which is the minority on the Council though the majority of St. Louis County, our County Executive, Dr. Page, and our directors of public health should be the ones setting strategy, making decisions, and leading all the rest of us through this public health emergency.  The opposite view believes that politicians should be involved in the decision-making process.

As a general rule, I'd probably agree with that.  But not in an emergency that's exacerbated across our country because those siding with Trump and the republicans have perpetuated some seriously outlandish bullshit about the virus itself and mitigation efforts (including mask wearing and social distancing) intended to control the spread.  Because we're not all on the same page about even the existence of a global pandemic, much less about how we can work together as a community to protect each other, the virus surges uncontrollably outside of St. Louis County. 

The three republicans on the Council were able to convince one of the democrats to join their crusade to strip emergency powers away from our County Executive and directors of our public health department, and their bill passed yesterday.

For weeks, I stressed about this piece of legislation.  I lost sleep over the burning in my gut.  I tried to imagine a compromise and gave advice I thought mind mend some fences.  I even went so far as to consider joining the other side in exchange for dropping a super majority requirement (meaning that it would only require a majority of the Council to continue public safety orders).  This thing ate me alive.

And then the County Executive was like, "I will veto this bill if it passes."  And just like a poof of magic, all of that stress, anxiety, and burn in the gut just disappeared.

And along with it came the realization that, holy crap!, my life doesn't change one iota if this piece of legislation passes.  And with that, I was flooded with other realizations about how I can only control two things in politics.  The first is my vote.  The second is how I use my words and actions to influence others.  What I can't control are others' votes, how others think and view the world, and the ultimate outcome of any piece of legislation.

It's hard for a type-A control freak to cede control, and it's a struggle I've worked on all year.  Maybe this experience with this piece of legislation will open up the door for me to legislate (and live!) completely free of the burden of responsibility over outcomes and others...

common sense gun ordinance

Ann Givens from The Trace gave me a ring a few weeks ago after finding an abc news article from February-ish about the gun ordinance the St. Louis County Council passed just before Covid hit. 

We had a few really great conversations about that particular piece of legislation, what it does and doesn't do, and why it's so important to me that we do more.

Here's her story, https://www.thetrace.org/2020/10/st-louis-county-council-ban-concealed-carry-domestic-abuse/

leading in the age of covid

I have been a member of the St. Louis County Council for a little over a year.  In my first year as a public servant, our county, nation, and every country around the world has been hit with a crisis no one alive has ever dealt with.  In every facet of my life, from mom to global professional and Councilwoman to human being, I have been stretched beyond my abilities on a daily basis.

And yet, I lead.  Every single day in all of these crumbling facets.

I have the unique perspectives of a side-by-side view of how leaders are handling this crisis in both the corporate world (in my day job, I’m a Director of Learning & Development at Bryan Cave Leighton Paisner, a global law firm with 900 lawyers in 25 countries around the world) and in our government.  I see how leaders and constituents behave in both worlds.  

In the former, we are careful with our words, we respect the opinions of others, and we build consensus because the strongest argument, backed by the best facts, and best presentation wins.  In the latter, old grudges, petty games, and loud vitriolic voices not only bully out the best argument, but also cloud judgment, inform decisions, and stoke flames of intolerance.  

I have to remind myself on a daily basis that I’m here to make the world a better place.  I show up because I believe St. Louis County can be better, more equitable, and a place of opportunity for our people.  But the government on display right now won’t be the path to a better St. Louis County.

I have grappled deeply with trying to balance Council oversight with letting the experts lead us through this public health crisis.  I have been listening to County residents who want their kids back in school and sports (as I do!).  I hear, and agree with, my colleagues arguing that our County Executive doesn’t communicate with us, doesn’t share why decisions are being made with us, and that we’re sick of learning about the goings on of our government in the newspaper.  

I’ve tried to weigh data, CDC guidelines, and the decisions and recommendations of our public health experts (an expertise no one on the St. Louis County Council can claim) with our own need to make decisions about the risks to ourselves and others.  

There are no easy decisions here.  

But at the end of the day, when I weigh all of my perspectives, how we’re handling this crisis at my day job, how government is responding, and the narratives, emotions, and facts swirling through all of it, I see only one path forward.

The loudest voices in our community show up every Tuesday, with hours of public comment, reminding us that they don’t care about our community as much as they care about their personal liberty.  

And it is my responsibility to speak up for the quieter voices, the ones exhausted by the bullying from the highest levels of our government all the way down to the leaders sitting amongst us on this dais.  And the ones that will suffer the most loss of life, opportunity, and basic human needs are the most vulnerable of us, the ones not showing up each Tuesday because they’re the ones already stretched, already suffering, already losing their lives and livelihoods, and they don’t have the bandwidth to express their outrage over mask mandates and having to drive to St. Charles for sports.   

I believe we should vote to allow the County Executive and the Directors of Public Health to make the decisions about emergency powers in this Pandemic and all future emergencies, and I really hope my colleagues will too.

legislating in the twilight zone

I couldn't write about last week until this week because there's been so much to process.  Beginning with a rescheduled Council meeting (WTF!?) and ending the week with the news that our governor and his wife have COVID.  

Yes, a rescheduled Council meeting.  Following 20 minutes of a silent webex meeting, our director came on the line to advise us that the meeting would have to be rescheduled due to a technical error.  Turns out our meeting notice (which, by law, requires 24 hours notice) included the wrong webex link.  (To be honest, it's a miracle that hasn't happened before now.  With so many different links for different audiences in each meeting, what a nightmare!)

Then our meeting was...(this is where I'd like to insert the #SMH emoji).  

The Chair was out of town (on a well-deserved holiday), and our Vice Chair ran her first meeting, and it showed.  On top of the unpracticed chair, we had 440 public comments (which, at 3 minutes a pop, would've made for a really long night).  It took 15 minutes just to sort through all of the motions to limit the comments to two hours.  And that mess set the tone for the whole meeting.

The public comments were a perfect example of the me-me-me centricity of our society today.  "I don't care if there is a global pandemic.  My kids need to be in sports."  "This pandemic is being blown out of proportion.  My kids need to play sports."  "My kid will lose her sports scholarship if she sits out the season."

That last one really gets me.  The first two are so fucking selfish, I just can't.  That latter bit makes me the angriest.  If this is true, and sports scouts aren't finding innovative ways to seek out and reward talent, they are deepening the divide between science, humanity, and the sense that we're in this together.  

And to react, our school districts are moving sports to outer districts with fewer COVID restrictions, and teaching our kids (but only the schools that are predominately white and wealthy (while our schools in lower income school districts don't have this option #systemicracism)) that the rules don't apply to them.

Leading in a crisis is hard for so many reasons, not the least of which being no good answers and a very hazy view of what outcome may be, but because this particular moment is fraught with such divisiveness and viciousness, making decisions at all feels impossible.   

hypocrisy by ordinance

This week in County politics, the youth sports crowd is on the offensive, the municipalities find a path to CARES Act money, one of my friends and allies has turned coat, and I find election season vitriol carrying on.  For me (and many others), the biggest issue is an ordinance proposal on the agenda that would limit the County Executive's power in future pandemics.  

For starters, I hope we won't ever need such an ordinance, and that this pandemic is a once in a century kinda deal.  Secondly, one of the primary reasons we elect an Executive is to lead during a crisis.  And finally, the very party proposing this legislation, which incidentally gives them an outsized voice by requiring a 2/3 majority to continue a state of emergency, doesn't even take the current pandemic seriously.

I honestly can't tell if this is simple election season shenanigans, or if anyone in the democratic majority can take this legislation seriously (and the fact that one of the democrats on the Council seems to find fitness here is both baffling and disappointing), but it is truly a piece of trash.

I'll go back to my original points.  A time of crisis is no time to have too many cooks in the kitchen, and giving power to decide whether a pandemic is really an emergency to a bunch of politicians is absurd.  In a time of crisis, an executive can assemble the strongest possible team of experts in whatever the crisis.  In this pandemic, that includes public health experts, humanitarian relief experts, and economic rescue experts.  In the legislative branch, I too can go find my experts, and spend all day every day trying to understand all of these moving pieces...oh wait, no I can't.  I have two kids and another job.  This is the job the executive is elected to do. 

The very best part is that the GOP has downplayed this pandemic since the day it hit our shores.  They have, and continue to, mock mask wearing, flaunt the lack of social distancing, and put their own selfish wants ahead of our collective best interests.  AND they want us to believe they should be the ones making decisions about public policy in future pandemics.  The chutzpah of it all is mind blowing.  

And for the youth sports crowd, I want all of our kids to get back to normal life as soon as possible.  I want the kids in my life back in school, back on the basketball court, and back in the stands supporting each other.  But until we as a society can show that we're listening to public health officials and doing everything we can to mitigate the spread of this disease, and whatever one may come next, I simply do not trust you enough to press to reopen.

Until we can all start being in this thing together, I'm standing strong for the recommendations of the public health experts.

~k

back home on the music box steps

I started this blog during a transformational time in my life.  I was on the heels of a marriage ending, the beginning of a hobby in politics, and learning to live on my own amidst the magic of the Music Box Steps.  

Since that transformation, I've moved to two different time zones, married again, birthed two babies, divorced again, and somehow managed to build a successful career and an equally successful (depending on your viewpoint) hobby in politics.  

As I once again find myself in the middle of a transformation, I feel pulled back to this place, where it all began, and where it fell off when I rerouted my life to become a mom.  

Politics has become a serious side hustle, where I'm Councilwoman on the St. Louis County Council.  It was become all-consuming at times, all-rewarding in others, and a place where I'm consistently awestruck by the viciousness that waits around every corner.  

I need a place to process what it's like to navigate the dirty world of politics, while spending the rest of my time helping people rise to their potential, and to figure out how to see through the haze of hate to stay focused on doing good wherever I can and for as long as I can.

That place is here.  On the Music Box Steps.

~k