Last Wednesday I had a refreshing and uplifting experience. I attended a Brunswick City Commission meeting.
It was the first city commission meeting I’ve attended. In fact, it was the first political or governmental meeting of any sort that I’ve attended.
Politics makes me uncomfortable. Religion, too. Something about people boldly and aggressively proclaiming things that are unverifiable or for which there is little or no evidence rubs me the wrong way. Could be my problem, though. It often is.
I attended the city commission meeting to learn more about the conference center project in downtown Brunswick.
I have developed quite a fondness for downtown Brunswick. Downtown is quaint, pretty and unique. Friendly, too. It has the potential to be spectacular. One day it will realize its potential. Unless we mess up.
The conference center project scares me for a number of reasons. So I wanted more information. Hence, the city commission meeting.
Upon entering the commission meeting room in Old City Hall, I almost forgot why I was there. The room is simple Southern elegance. It’s old. The wood floors are beautifully worn and weathered. As are the wood benches. The ceiling must be twenty feet high. The windows appear narrow because they’re so tall. The walls are stately yet warm.
Almost everything in the meeting room creaks. The floor creaks. The benches creak. Most of the people in the room were about my age, so they creak.
I could sit in a room like that for hours. And did. I got there a little before the meeting started at 6 p.m and left at 9 p.m. The meeting wasn’t over, but I had told my wife I’d be home by 7:30 and so was already in trouble.
My hunch is that last Wednesday’s city commission meeting was quite routine. I’m sure in a couple of weeks I’ll have forgotten most of the issues that were discussed.
What I will never forget is the civility, respectfulness and good manners with which the mayor, city commissioners, other city officials and citizens in attendance addressed each other.
Politics has a way of bringing out the self-righteous blowhard in people. I am by no means immune. But I recognize that quickness to rant and quickness to denigrate are inclinations to subdue and correct, not indulge.
Civility, respectfulness and good manners are not masks that hide who we really are. They are not signs of insincerity or mendacity. They are signs of a mature person. They are signs of wisdom.
In particular, the wisdom is that it is much easier to destroy something good than build something good.
Civility, respectfulness and good manners ruled last Wednesday’s city commission meeting. There were spirited disagreements, to be sure — it’s democracy, after all. The Glynn Avenue zoning proposal is especially contentious.
But the city officials, as well as the citizens who object to the zoning proposal, never wavered in civility, respectfulness and good manners.
During that long city commission meeting, I thought of Alexis de Tocqueville’s “Democracy in America,” one of the greatest books on America ever written. Tocqueville argued that the strength of American democracy is found in towns and town government. For, he wrote, “the strength of free peoples resides in the local community.”
Democracy is always loud, usually rancorous and often ugly. But when its participants are civil and respectful, it’s nice to behold.
Well done, mayor, city commissioners and city officials and citizens in attendance. Tocqueville would be pleased. Me, too.
Reg Murphy Center