The other day, a friend told me about a very interesting and promising deal he is negotiating with a major entity in Buffalo. (I'll keep the project and the friend's identity under wraps for now, not wanting to speak too soon.)
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The point here is that this friend spoke to someone who works in a major regional political office, and asked if perhaps their boss would care to sign on to the project. The answer was, "If it goes through, call us. We'll be there for the signing."
My friend explained that the signing would be more likely if there was some more political weight behind it. What was being looked for was support on this side of the project, not a bigger crowd for the photo-op should the signing go through. It was disappointing to my friend to say the least; the unspoken answer being, "We won't help, but we'll put our face on it at the end so we can take some credit."
It sparked a memory of a lesson I'd learned long ago in a children's book--one that has applied to life over and over, in different circumstances, ever since. I immediately went to Talking Leaves and picked up a copy of The Little Red Hen.
For those of you who aren't familiar, the hen in the story is literally scratching for dinner for her children, when she comes upon some seeds. The pig, dog, goat and rat all tell her what she needs to do with the seeds, but when asked to help, they all answer "Not I" to the various chores that need doing.
Though each of the other animals have specialized talents that would help the hen greatly through the process from seed to bread, they won't help plant, harvest or carry the grain to the mill. Once she lugs her grain to the mill herself, the kind miller (who is quite human) not only grinds it, but gives the little hen a jar of jam to boot.
Back home, neither the dog, goat, pig nor rat are willing to help with the baking either, all answering, "Not I" to the hen's final plea for help.
However, when the bread is baked, and it's time for the photo op...er...meal, everyone is available. The hen, with the sun (who looks a lot like the miller) looking on, points her little red wing at the loafers and reminds them how they contributed nothing to the greater good of the community...uh...baking the bread, and then she feeds her family warm bread and benevolent jam. The end.
The Little Red Hen book should be read and taken to heart by every man, woman and child, and it wouldn't hurt to have a copy handy at swearing in ceremonies. Everybody, smile for the camera!
I love this - nomination for article of the month, anyone--?
I've noticed in many of the community projects I've been involved in - and even led - we worked hundreds of hours and even gave hundreds of dollars of our own resources (and sometimes even more in opportunity costs), sometimes with very little (or no) visible support from politicians -- and in some cases, had them put roadblocks or hurdles in our path. Yet when it comes time for the press conference or ribbon cutting, there they are crowing - like a rooster at dawn taking credit for the sun coming up. Which makes me wonder BTW why they didn't fit a rooster into the Little Red Hen story somewhere...
Disappointing, yes, but a maturing reality to recognize and deal with. Politicians want to be associated with things that are successful. End of story. Sometimes a group has to do something, show progress, be successful, and invite the politicians out to the ribbon cutting whether they helped or not, turning a blind eye to the credit-claiming and bandwagonning. Often, that helps get buy-in from the politicians, and if the group or initiative can keep up the momentum, the politicians may step up to the plate and provide some real help with the next project or phase.
So the cold reality for all of us Little Red Hens is that sometimes it takes moving forward on something that needs to happen, or needs to be done, without knowing whether anyone political will ever get on board. That can mean lots of time, energy, and sweat equity, without always a guarantee of success or payoff. Sometimes you just have to have faith that a "friendly miller" will be there to help out at a critical moment, or with a critical piece -- and sometimes that friendly miller is indeed a progressive or thoughtful politician. They are out there - there are several in Buffalo who I'd be honored to have representing me - and should be celebrated and supported. So while it's not fair to tar them all with the same brush, the best outlook when approaching politicians for support is to have very realistic and open-eyed expectations - yet being open to being pleasantly surprised.
Politicians will tell you, as well, that the shoe is often on the other foot. There are times when they need support - especially early on in their careers when they don't have a track record of accomplishment yet - and feel very much the Little Red Hen. Who will go with me to walk a neighborhood--? Who will come to a campaign rally and bring a friend--? Who will host a meeting in their home with some of their friends and neighbors--? "Not I" (or "I'll get back to you") is so often what they hear - yet after they're elected the same people show up and want favors.
Makes you wonder why we even need government involvement at all.