Candidates may disagree, but I’ve always thought that campaigning is fun; it’s governance that’s hard. Once the campaign is over, and the seat is won, the focus must be on governance, working together with other elected officials with whom you may agree, or not.  Federal government shutdowns and presidential assignments of National Guard troops into cities may occupy headlines, but addressing the everyday aggravations of life depends on local and municipal governments.  That is, of course, if those local boards and councils can work together to provide the governing oversight they promised when running for office. During my recent trip to Oregon for a college reunion, two local governments were wrestling with basic governance issues that we rarely see in Northern Virginia jurisdictions.

The Lane County Board of County Commissioners has five members, three men and two women, serving about 400,000 residents.  The county seat is Eugene, and the county’s geography stretches from the Pacific Ocean to the Cascade mountains. Commissioners serve four-year terms and earn $114,000 a year, with no restrictions on other employment.  The commission has been rocked by several behaviors by its chairman, who is elected from within the body and has served in that role since January.  The chairman, a minister, referred to the female executive of a local public agency as “a stripper on a strip pole,” has defied the county’s policies banning weapons and pets in the workplace, and called a female county attorney a “spinster,” an archaic and now derogatory term for an older woman who is not married, according to the county administrator.  That last transgression resulted in a $250,000 county settlement with the woman (plus legal fees), but the chairman’s behavior continues to be defiant, demeaning, and accusatory, outlined in a letter to the chairman from the administrator.  A female commissioner said the issues are serious and “require the board to have a frank conversation.”  Those discussions usually are held in a closed session since they deal with personnel issues, but it would be fascinating to be the proverbial “fly on the wall.”  

About 100 miles north, in Portland, Oregon’s largest city (pop. 652,000), the new city council is “struggling to find its groove,” according to The Oregonian newspaper.  The council structure was overhauled by the voters last year, and 12 new city councilors took office in January.  Members earn $133,000 annually as full-time councilors and are not permitted to hold other jobs.  It took nine rounds of voting among the 12 councilors to elect a chairman and, after eight months of wrangling about their meeting schedule, they decided they should meet weekly but also complained that 18 public meetings a month (not including work sessions and special meetings) are overwhelming their offices and city staff.   Utilizing proper parliamentary procedure for the conduct of meetings would help to keep order and reduce confusion and arguments, but the authority of the gavel needs to be exercised by the chairman both gracefully and firmly. One Portland councilor suggested engaging an outside organization to do some “marriage counseling” and build trust but the council was unable to find the $100,000 needed to hire a firm.  Another councilor said the job isn’t about trusting her colleagues, rather that her “job is to speak for her constituents and weigh the decisions in front of her.”  

It’s really both.  Being part of a governing body is like joining a team.  Sometimes you are on offense, and sometimes on defense, but each member has a role on the team and needs to work together to move the ball and score.  Sometimes your “side” wins and sometimes it doesn’t, but if you can’t develop some trust in your colleagues, build coalitions, and find a “sweet spot,” you are wasting time, energy, taxpayer dollars, and political capital.  There are daily issues and crises in every jurisdiction, and most governing bodies have figured out how to work together and move forward.  Maybe Trump’s National Guard ploy will provide the kick in the pants that the Portland City Council needs.