Canvassing conversations
As a City Councilor, I get a lot of anger directed my way, and this can give a distorted view of what people are thinking. I like canvassing because that’s the time I get to talk to the average, typically-uninvolved person and get a more representative idea of what’s going on in the city. My last few blog posts have been focused on policies, so I figured I’d change the pace a bit and talk about a few day-to-day conversations.
As an incumbent, I’ve been going door to door and just asking people what their views are on local government or what they’d like to see more of around the city. The most common response is that they haven’t really thought about it, but they’re pleased to meet me, or that they’re doing something and don’t have time to talk. The second most common response is that the roads need to be repaired; I have to explain that we funded three extra positions in the DPW for spot repairs to our roads, but it’s taken nearly eight months to hire them due to contractual issues. A lot of times I run into new people who want to know what’s going on in the city, and I give them an informal rundown of what’s going on politically. Other times I’ll run into a location-specific issue — for instance, zoning in West Medford or the proposed methodone clinic on two streets in the Salem area — and that requires more policy discussion.
Lately I’ve been canvassing in the more conservative parts of Medford (Medford voted blue to red in the last presidential election by about a 3:1 ratio, though if you look at our most recent statewide election results, that varies by ward). Recently I had a conversation with an individual a few blocks from my condo, an older-to-middle-aged man, and it started out with a question that’s come to put me on alert: “are you part of the group?” The group is the progressive caucus, Our Revolution Medford, which endorsed six of the seven current city councilors and four of the six current school committee members, and, of course, I said I was. That kind of question, phrased like that, could either mean a very productive conversation or a very angry one, and I was never sure which. In 2023, I had a guy rip up my literature in front of me because I said I supported bike paths, so if someone wants to make a confrontation unpleasant. But he invited me to sit down, which probably meant he wanted to talk, which was good.
The ensuing chat was my favorite kind: someone who’s not really a supporter but wants to talk. It’s an invitation to build bridges. The man had lived in his house all his life and inherited it from his parents. But he was on a fixed income and didn’t want to move. He was angry about the increasing taxes. We talked about the recent tax override a little bit, though that added maybe a few hundred to his tax bill; the real burden was property reassessments, which added several thousand, and he was aware of that. (If we didn’t pass those, we would have had to shut down public libraries or lay off teachers, like they’re doing in Stoneham and Melrose; besides that, City Council had already passed every measure we’re able to to alleviate his tax burden under Mass General Law.) He was angry, but it wasn’t anger directed specifically at me as much as it was frustration with the situation.
The issue I was trying to address with the conversation was just relationship building. A lot of senior residents know the old guard Councilors (usually because they grew up with them), but not the new generation, so a person like me making an effort to sit down and listen can go a long way.
My second-favorite kind of encounter at the doors is when people have pets. Sign up for my newsletter if you’d like updates on those.
